22 February, 2013

TAKING ONE FOR THE TEAM


The term "no brainer" does not apply for me. Thankfully, breathing and scratching when and where it itches are "hard-wired in" so to speak, because for the most part if I don't keep my head in the game it shows.

Thoughts were drifting as I was in the kitchen opening a bottle of bubbly, which I've done thousands of times. Without incident. Don't know how that exuberant little cork flew from the protective towel in my hands and headed straight for the window. On the window sill stands a plastic child's toy, circa 1950's. Green Army Man as us old folks say. He was unearthed when John and I lived in Wilmington, NC.

This steadfast sentinel has stood watch over us in the kitchen windows of three homes in three different cities. He never wavered as the cork hurtled through space and struck him with enough force to lay him out flat. The window did not break. Duty done. Thank you, Green Army Man. You took one for the team.

And you have now been promoted to Green Army Sergeant First Class - all the way!

Dale

Daytime Duty

Always Vigilant

15 February, 2013

BEADS AND PIGS AND BEARS. OH MY!




Mardi Gras at Chancey Hill Inn was a wild time. Well, moderately. No arrests or police intervention, but certainly not mountain norm. Some of us knew each other. Some did not. No matter. We were gathered for a party, a good time, and that is what we had.

Masks, beads, coins. Plenty of food and spirit with laughter to the rafters.

This innkeeper enjoyed the company of everyone. As a group and individually. I know we'll all party together again. What a pleasant prospect. John and I are already planning next year's Mountain Mardi Gras.

Dale














01 February, 2013

PARTY ANIMAL


Rain, rain, rain - and tornado warnings too. Can't be outside today so I'm doing a little pre-party prep for our upcoming Mardi Gras Carnival. Specifically, I'm dressing Jimma, the monkey (not real), that graces the dining room here at the inn. If you've been here before you know her, and if you haven't I won't even try to explain.

I replaced her Moroccan turban with a gold one, and a purple tiara. She may or may not hold her cigar and martini glass at carnival, haven't yet decided.

This most noble monkey was left to me by Jimmie, John's mother, and holds court from an antique bamboo baby stroller given to me by my mother. Jimma is a smile inducer and always makes me think of the woman who was an excellent mother-in-law, grandmother to my daughter and son, and most of all my dear friend.

Dale