This coaster has been on my office desk for as long as I can remember – the office has been in five different homes over the past twenty-three years, but the coaster lingers on. Clearly worse for the wear, and not nearly as clever as Marla Wood’s images, but I remember how “Big” Dear Abbey was back in the day and still get a chuckle whenever I take time to digest the sentiment.
Totally unrelated to Pride
– except the pride Pretty and I have for our granddaughters four-year-old Ella and two-year-old Molly. We were at their house this past week, and the girls love to pretend to be Princesses in their dresses so their dog Sadie stands guard while Ella directs the play. The role of the Prince is often assigned to yours truly; Ella continues to believe I was born for the part. Bless her heart.
This card was sent to us at Christmas years ago by our friends Cindy and Sandy who immigrated to Tennessee and became Lady Volunteer basketball fans during the Summit era. Pretty had saved it somewhere in the deep recesses of her treasures and recently retrieved it. I had to laugh again.
another Christmas card from our past – this is pure Pride
Happy Father’s Day to all proud dads everywhere!! Hope your weekend is festive and filled with pride in your children, their children, and all children to come.
When I finally closed my eyes last night at a quarter past 11 o’clock, my favorite candidate Francie Kleckley was behind by 16 votes in what was a nailbiter in her primary election returns. I can add it was the same 16 votes all the news outlets had been reporting for the past couple of hours. Good grief, Pretty said to me, what can be so hard about tallying votes in those remaining four precincts?
More importantly, I answered, which four precincts are still outstanding?
(I have cleaned up this exchange for “family” readers.)
Five hours later I awoke for my nightly bathroom call and retrieved my cell phone to see this update from local CBS television news WLTX-19 online. I was so groggy at 3 a.m. I thought Francie had lost by 40 votes. After rubbing sleep from my eyes to look again, I realized she’d WON!
I got so excited I whispered to Pretty she won, she won! Pretty slept on even when I raised my voice and repeated the good news. Pretty can sleep through tropical storms, dogs barking, small earthquake tremors. It’s a special gift.
When Pretty was unresponsive, I texted Francie at 3:09 to congratulate her. Thankfully, she was also unresponsive.
This morning’s results from the State newspaper online also offered insights into the Republican incumbent Billy Garrett’s primary.
Watch out, Buffalo Billy – there’s a newcomer coming after you in November.
Still think your voice doesn’t matter? Think again. Vote.
Oh gosh, the old gray mare ain’t what she used to be. She thinks it’s December – not June, right? Sad.
Not to worry or despair, o ye cyberspace friends and followers. Blame Pretty for this one because yesterday she found a large decorative storage box full of Christmas cards we hadn’t looked through in twenty years. That’s right. Twenty years. As I waded through the memories, I found two rainbow greeting cards sent by two gay men named Chuck with different last names in different years, both of whom are now deceased.
That struck me as more than a random coincidence as we begin to celebrate Pride during the month of June, 2024.
So in memory of two friends who are no longer with me, Chuck Heath and Chuck Bowen, I wish you all a Happy Pride! Celebrate the season wherever you are.
Thanks to Pretty for establishing our annual Memorial Day weekend tradition and to our favorite daughter-in-law Caroline for collaborating with Pretty on invites, venues, food, fun, festivities every year when we pack our bags for a vacation in the upstate of South Carolina in the Blue Ridge Province of the Southern Appalachian mountain range. Guaranteed good times, but never forget there is a Chief Worrier in the group, and that would be me.
This year we had two major worries: the oven from hell in the kitchen of our Airbnb that refused to turn off Saturday afternoon when I placed Pretty’s vegetarian lasagna on the top rack of its preheated 350 degrees to cook for 25 minutes. To my horror the oven door refused to open at the end of 25 minutes or for the next twelve hours, the oven continued to bake throughout that time, and my Chief Worrier self kicked into high gear by suggesting we call 911 for the Fire Department at nine o’clock Saturday night – wherever the Fire Department might be for Hogback Mountain. Thank goodness for our calm son Drew who staged an intervention, urged me not to panic, talked me off the ledge on Saturday night, assured me the door handle was cooling, until the oven door finally opened Sunday morning. Repeat: Sunday morning.
Sofia (left) and Molly waiting for breakfast while Ella and I raid refrigerator
three-year-old Sofia brought her big sis Lily plus her parents Bryan and Nicole for the weekend
(they were all a great addition to the mix)
Sofia, Ella and Molly play on the beach at the nearby lake
how do you say salamander?and what are they anyway?
an unresolved mystery until Papa Williams (Pretty’s father) called to say
without salamanders, but her favorite new saying was
Go Away!
Go away, Neena and Naynay – but when we got up to leave, Molly would get up, too,
and say, I go with you!
The window seat in the living area of the Airbnb was a favorite spot for the girls.
she thinks she’s the only one who can have a Unicorn
that Unicorn belongs to me and only me, says four-year-old Ella
oh, man – make her give me back my Unicorn – I’ll trade for sunglasses
ok, let’s trade
just kidding – I’ll keep the sunglasses and the Unicorn
Remember I said two worries? The second one came when we were leaving Monday morning in the midst of a very strong storm on the mountain. Winds actually blowing ferociously, rain pouring on us as we carried our girls and belongings to the cars. I knew my Chief Worrier needed to be summoned when normally calm Drew shouted, Be quick – we have to get out of here – there’s a tree down on the road! Our little caravan of three vehicles left the house in a hurry on the small gravel road we had to use to come down the mountain. Not far from the house a power line was down across the road which meant we had to turn around and take a different direction. Whew. My nerves were a wreck by the time we reached Landrum where we met Papa Williams for lunch.
Guaranteed good times, you bet! High drama an unexpected twist in 2024! I wouldn’t trade sunglasses or anything else for the time with family and friends this year. I’m grateful to the service members who made the ultimate sacrifice for us to live in a free country where we can celebrate their memories in special ways on Memorial Day.
God bless the United States of America, and God bless our troops.
I'll Call It Like I See It 
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