Thursday, February 18, 2016


Maya at her playdate playing pretty princesses though her socks detract from her look. Her friend will go to the neighborhood school with her next year and lives in our old neighborhood. Maybe they won't be the only African-Americans in their class then. Surprisingly, her friend is just as tall if not taller than Maya who is our beanpole weighing not much more than Allie

Commercially grown roses, many from Ecuador, are thornless. They are also devoid of fragrance. For a lovely story on the search for scented roses for Valentine's, see from Elephants Child.
more pretty get-well flowers from a friend
A rare door bell rings not long after a friend arrives (with soup and mums). We do not receive many unexpected visitors here. So far just two sets of Jehovah's Witnesses; not even a treat or treater in the year we've been here unlike the unwanted foot traffic we had at The Albatross. This is a big plus to living in the middle of nowhere.
An unwashed woman about ten years younger than me is at the door. She is looking for a horse farm that is about 12 miles NE of me. I quickly tell her the fastest way to get to the edge of the community she is looking for.
Oh Six Mile, that sounds familiar.
Six Mile doesn't have a South Lyon address. It starts at 7 mile and goes all the way up to 14 mile and covers parts of 3 counties. I need to know which mile road you want to help you.
It became obvious to me that she wasn't from SE Michigan to whom these mile roads are very familiar. I asked her to call the farm to get an address and then I could help her. She was from Ohio.
I lost my phone.
Her plan was to follow some car that looked like it knew where it was going and hopefully it was going to the same place as her, nevermind that it went east instead of north. The car turned into my neighborhood, which sort of looked like the neighborhood she wanted (though no horses here). Somehow she turned into my driveway. From her viewpoint, her plan worked because it led her to her 'angel' (me) who fixed everything. I invited her in because we would need the internet to help asking her to leave her manure encrusted boots at the door (still some fell off to Steve's later puzzlement why we had pieces of crap around the door). She wore no socks underneath revealing feet encrusted with grime. She apologized over and over for smelling like a horse. She was going to a farm that specialized in lessons riding Tennessee Walkers. Maybe they are ridden differently. She had horses of her own. Armed with a few bits of info, I found her target horse farm and called them to say she will be late for her lesson. Eight Mile was what she needed. I drew a map with detailed directions.
Some people are very prone to getting lost. I am not and make a point of knowing where I am, what direction I am facing, etc. Steve on the other hand will get lost even in cities that are basically grids (numbered streets running east-west; numbered avenues running north-south). We went for a walk in his sister's neighborhood recently and he was completely unable to figure out a way back on his own despite the grid. Washington DC is on a half grid plan. To make it easier, I pretend the lettered streets go east-west (they really go at a 45 degree angle). There are very few streets that hit them at a 90 degree angle. The avenues are all names after states and go every which way. Once you get north of the single letter streets, the alphabet names are single syllables, then double syllables. Where my friend lives, the names are three syllables. He is tucked into the far NW corner. A few blocks west or north of him, you are in Maryland where there be dragons figuring out where to go (I did get lost in the middle of the night finding myself on some dark parkway with NO exits)
Still I would not go to another state by myself without a map, tom-tom or a phone. I am prepared though a few weeks ago due to blood loss and trying to stem the flow with bags of frozen vegetables, I was not much help trying to navigate the Bay Area trying to get medical help.
I returned home after my sweep of the senior day resale places (some finds, I am getting more picky) to find the sun did burn a hole in the snow cover so I could run outside. I am so much more energetic in the morning but I had to wait until late afternoon. 30 degrees! I was able to run without my fleece overcoat and without hat and gloves. Now everything is covered in rime so I am waiting again for the sun to work its magic. Winter is almost over. Happy days.

Below: the Golden Gate Bridge taken by my niece:


Elephant's Child said...

Thank you for the link - and for your perfect comment on the post.
My partner has no sense of direction. None. Nada. Zip. I am constantly amazed when he gets home safely from his trips overseas.
Your unexpected and needy visitor has a lot more faith in human nature than I could muster. How lovely that she found you to help.

Sue in Italia/In the Land Of Cancer said...

What is really funny is that I was stopped today while running by an elderly woman wanting to go almost to the same location. She had no idea what direction she was heading.


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