Still Prickly

Okay, so I'm probably getting a little obsessive about this drought related fall color thingie. The photo here shows sweet gum stars behind the white trunks of the sycamore.

I'm used to fabulous color of the star-shaped leaves but sweet gum balls are supposed to be brown! . . . and prickly! They stick to the dog, are horrible to rake up and most people hate them. However, they can be used to make fun things with a little glue and glitter, but that's another story.

They are NOT supposed to be such a lovely array of colors -- not gentle pale green nor sharp chartreuse edged with the pinky orange of old Mercurochrome nor subtle beige washed with mossy green nor the orange-red of winter pomegranates.

I picked up a few to share.

Oh.

They are still prickly.

AAB

What Do They Know?

They do it every day -- tell us what the weather will be tomorrow and the 4 or 5 or 7 days after.

Using their best resources, latest gizmos and phone calls from neighborhood weather watchers, they put the numbers together about wind direction, average temperatures, and expected rainfall. Sometimes I think they just look at the weather in the next state and say, "Hum, I think that's what it's gonna do here tomorrow." However they come up with the prediction, it is believable – right or wrong -- because it is delivered with confidence and humor.

This year, the weather folks have had the added bonus of the severe drought. They have discussed water tables and lake levels, watering bans and conservation measures.
And they even got into leaves.

They predicted that there would NOT be a great show of fall color because of no rain. So it was surprising to me to spot beautiful hardwoods among the pines last month on our "Girls' Day Out."

At home, I discovered the wonder of the blazing color on the Chinese Pistach (another photo) which ranged from chartreuse, lemon and orange all the way through red to hot pink and magenta.

I realized that the fig tree had never shown such brilliant yellow and that the crepe myrtles had thrown shimmering copper and gold coins on the ground. (Lucy threw them at me!)

And while I marveled at these discoveries, I wondered if they were always there.

And I thought about the meteorologists. No color!?! What do they know!?!

Sometimes I think we don't need to know the peak leaf viewing season. We just need to know the current temperature and if it might rain tomorrow.

Sometimes I think we don't need to drive hundreds of miles to see some trees. We just need to observe the fig tree from the kitchen window and the crepe myrtle leaves on the sidewalk.

Sometimes we don't need the latest trends, the newest colors, the possible contract or the latest supplies, the newest motivational books, the cameras with the best lens and mega-pixel capabilities and the best computer software. We just need to make some intuitive decisions and we need to deliver.

Right or wrong. Just deliver with confidence and humor!
And that's What They Know.

AAB

Understanding Two Things

My little country house is on the grounds of a church campground which means that three times a year, our time there coincides with planned events. It means there are more friends, family and guests to prepare for, but also more times to be quiet with music and words under the big open air tabernacle.

This weekend was one of those times. While the summer week has been a tradition for almost 200 years, the fall weekend was my mother's idea and she has guided its program for 15 years. She gives much thought to how the musicians and speakers will balance each other for the services under the big open tabernacle and assigns everything from altar flowers to sausage biscuits.

My assignment is usually Saturday lunch for the ministers. In a primitive cottage with no hot water and sawdust floors, meals need to be easily prepared and served. This year, a few cool days called for a huge pot of vegetable soup, some biscuits, saucers of butter and a couple of pies. No one cared that I used frozen, not fresh, vegetables in the soup pot (a big pot roast cut into bite-sized pieces gave them flavor), that I used fat canned biscuits which were baked in my electric skillet ('how did you get them so crisp and brown on both sides?') or that the lemon and chocolate silk pies were thawed just before serving! A centerpiece of pots of chrysanthemums and fall figurines, an assortment of antique dishes which have collected in the cabinets and big soup bowls added to the ambiance, and laughter filled the chairs around the big table for much longer than usual.

On Sunday morning, as I drank my coffee and watched the sun coming through the trees. I thought about the times when those Saturday menus have been complicated and 'from scratch.' I don't know that the food has been any better or that the meal has been any more satisfying.

In the quiet morning, I understood two things: Complicated process is not always best. Successful shortcuts are learned through practice.

Two things which work in a simple place;
two things which work in the studio.

AAB

Colors of the Day: Green and Gold

This is the season when spring colors give way to hot summer, students don caps and gowns and families join together to celebrate milestones in crowded arenas. We haven't had a high school graduate for a while, but this year there are my nieces (Michelle and Lily) and a cousin's daughter, Tiffany.

Yesterday, we celebrated with school's gold and green at a family party for Michelle. (Lily will graduate next weekend in South Carolina.) Michelle's favorite part was the presents. Lucy had worn her party outfit and loved the balloons, but her favorite part was the special diploma cake.

After lunch, everyone loaded the cars and headed to the arena where they joined other cousins and heard Tiffany give the salutatory address. There were tears of relief and joy along with anticipation for the next steps.

We DO know that when their next milestones come for these three girls, the colors might be different, but the family will be there to congratulate and encourage. It's what families do.

(Poppies, like our grandmother used to grow, line the walk at my sister's house. A green and gold send-off for her daughter.)

Rooted in the Past, but Growing

The annual Homecoming weekend was one of those which is sometimes special; sometimes just short of the mark. A portion of the drive, through a country landscape of pastures and small town football which was lit by a full harvest moon, was the high point. Then, we found that our usual hotel was lacking some amenities. The restaurant presented lovely food with many apologies for the much too long delay. And, with this year's focus on football, some old alumni traditions were discarded while new ones were created. The weekend never quite met our expectations. It was simply 'off.'

This year, there was a formal Convocation
for the presentation of classes in reunion -- it tugs the heart-strings to see the joyous faces in classes who have come back to their alma mater for their 50th, 55th and 60th years. The Convocation also recognized this year's group of Outstanding Alumni: an economic developer who has contributed to the growth of his state; a former pastor of the Church-of-the-Year who now works in healthcare; an artist who has co-founded a contemporary art museum; a musician from the Class of '44 who accepted her award in a fabulous pair of red shoes; an educator who emphasizes volunteerisim with his students; and a founding partner of a major Atlanta law firm. This school has a 175 year history of sending students of this caliber into the world. But this year the focus was FOOTBALL!

So I thought back to last year's Homecoming. All of my family was with me as I was named to the Wall of Outstanding Alumni. It was a very special weekend. When I came home I reread the presentation which was made to me by President Gulley last year. (You wil find it here: http://www.annettebush.com/film/remarks.html) I realized that although I haven't started a museum or a law-firm, written a best seller or discovered some scientific marvel, I can be pleased to be in the list and can be satisfied with the words. I realized that every year is not a banner year, but my Alma Mater and I go back a long way and we both have a long way to go. . . . I won't be playng football, but I will be trying new things.

The photo: Smith Hall was my dorm in 1961. It stood on this spot in 1861 and overlooked a continually changing Quadrangle. It's precious window which was scratched with initials to check for 'real diamonds' is on display in the alumni house and it's drafty old dorm rooms are now sleek and functional offices and meeting rooms. It's formal parlor hasn't changed.

Random Acts of Seasons Changing

It has been a while since I have posted. I really meant to write some things down. I have some pretty cool notes, a few odd sketches, a photo or two, but it has been the last of summer and the first of autumn. . . . Here are a few observations.
1. The last of the summer concerts brought good crowds to the outdoors just as the evenings became comfortable for listening. Now, the new schedules fill the mailbox with lovely formal programs or funky combinations of styles promising longer selections, better paid guest artists and, sometimes, tables for eight. No more dogs under the chairs, blankets spread for picnicking or mosquitoes adding their own brand of music to the evening. Perhaps a new outfit or two is in order.

2. As the days grow cooler, the cats who slept stetched out long and skinny during the dog days of summer, make cat commas throughout the house and begin to scout out spots for winter naps. Fred likes a lap or Lucy's pillow; Greene loves a box, Vinnie nestles in a dining room chair just under the table cloth, Boomie likes the cushion in the chair at the top of the stairs and Maggie the deaf kitty hids in spots where she will feel safe. They are getting ready and they don't have a calendar or a weatherman.

3. The big yellow school bus blows its horn each morning and empties the neighborhood of children's voices, mammas' scolding and teenagers booming music. Some days it is almost too quiet -- until the afternoon when the bus lumbers down the street to return its cargo.

4. In the bird bath, there are red seeds from the magnolia pods at the Widow's Home down the street and the Asian ladies are watching the ripening fruits on the soon-to-be brilliant golden Gingko trees -- hints that it is time to prepare a Celebration of Moon Viewing.

5. Homecoming and Reunion weekends are planned for Alums to return to their Alma Maters to see old friends and professors. This year, we will -- for the first time in 175 years -- have a football game on the schedule.

Random Acts of Seasons Changing. . . .

Like Fred, I have just enjoyed without really paying attention and I don't think I'm ready.