Star struck … no mayo


Color version on Megashot and soon on Flickr

Still snowing but the skies are clearing; I don’t recall it ever snowing this many days in a row.
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My favorite pick-me-up snack sandwich is grape jelly and mayonnaise. I like the two ingredients mixed, but will eat them laying side by side. This is a treat my grandmother made for me when I was a little sprat. I remember once being outside enjoying one of these delights when somehow a yellow-jacket bee got into my mouth and it stung my tongue and roof of my mouth. I cried …
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Thirty-odd years ago a bunch of us partied a lot; the happenings would be at my house, or at Fred’s and Alice’s, or at Ken’s and Brenda’s, or at one or another of our friends houses. Mostly beer drinking for us–wine for some of the ladies– and maybe a cookout in summertime, music of various sorts would be on the turntable, and there was always someone attempting to dance. At one such party in Fred’s and Alice’s finished basement, I became a little weary of the goings on and wandered outside. The house is situated on a fairly steep bank which had been back-filled and at the corner below where the carport is located, there is a small nearly level area which falls away to the main backyard. That summer night I went out and sat at the level place, contemplating the stars and life in general. In a few minutes, a young lady wandered from the party and sat down beside me, a very pretty girl with long, dark hair and even darker eyes. I was about 33 years old at the time and she was a mature looking lass of just 16 summers. She asked me why I came outside and what I was looking at and I told her I was just getting away from the hustle for a bit and was looking at one of my favorite views; a moonless, crystal clear night sky. She sat with me for a long while and we spoke very little, at last both of us got up and went back to the party. At the next party at my house, I did the same and went out and lay my body on the grass of the front lawn, again enjoying the stars of a summer evening. In a few minutes I was joined by the same young lady where she lay on the grass beside me. She asked a few questions about star names and constellations and such, but mostly we just sprawled quietly for awhile before going back to the shindig. Next time it was at Ken’s house and the same girl followed me out where we sat alone beside the house. Nothing romantic ever happened between she and I, but I think we both felt very close to each other; maybe a karmic connection or such. Finally the summer party season crawled into cool autumn nights and my outdoors excursions ended for the year. The girl and I saw each other at many parties throughout the winter and early spring, and we would usually give each other a quick smile and even danced together a time or two. When the nights again grew warm enough for sitting and mentally conversing with the stars, I found myself alone; the girl became engaged and married over the “off” months, and it just would not have bode good for her to be seen sitting beside me when she should be with her new husband. The thing that pleased me the most about her was having her company on those special evenings, and the fact that the man she married was about my age; against everyone in her families wishes. Too old for her, they said. I suppose she is nearly 50 years of age now, he is in his mid-sixties and, as far as I know, they raised a family and are still together. Last time I saw her was at a funeral where we again smiled our own personal smile to each other and for a moment our fingertips brushed together. It was more than 30 years ago we first sat with each other on the grass at Alice’s house, but sometimes on warm summer evenings when I am on the porch, I think of those moments together and wonder if they were as important for her as they were for me. Moments are the little things which define our lives.
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Tomorrow I have a date with the R.A. doc for a checkup and to get my weekly fix, therefore I may be absent from the blog until Saturday.
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Have a Thursday!

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Published in: on January 13, 2011 at 1:15 pm  Comments (7)  
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7 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Maybe it was love; very gentle love. Beautiful memory! Thanks for it. 🙂

    • Probably more like teacher/student or big brother/little sister. If I ever see her again, I might ask her. Thanks, Jola. 🙂

  2. http://www.amazon.com/Pomaireware-Clay-Bean-Pot-Quarts/dp/B001F5PLYO

    Ken, Tell Carolyn that I use this pot for my beans and they turn out fabulous every time. I start them on top of the stove w/ H2O and a bit of pig lard or hamhock and pop them in the oven until they are creamy and tender. I love this Pomaireware and have several pieces in my kitchen. It ages much like cast iron with a lovely “seasoning” on the inside. It is simply clay but cooks beautifully. I also have a LeCreuset cast iron pots which are good but very very expensive. This may be worth a try but I can understand her desire for a good cast iron pot.

    I like your little story. Sometimes souls just meet and connect even if just for a moment. Perhaps in another life you were connected as well.
    Maybe your gramma only had jelly and mayo in the icebox and it ended up on your white bread. I like a tomato and mayo sandwich. yum. your fingers must be feeling better as you gave us a story today.

    • You have her looking at the clay pots, Tammy.
      I too love fresh maters and mayo sandwich.
      Most of the sore has left my digits, but they are still stiff.
      Thanks, my friend.

  3. It seems everyone west of the mountains have been getting a whole bunch of storms.
    I am sure many are ready for spring.

    I love peanut butter and bacon sandwiches.

    There are often little moments where two humans have a special connections for whatever reason and

    • Peanut butter seems to go with everything; I sometimes eat peanut butter and baloney. The bacon sounds good but I am too lazy to fry it.
      Moments; a good definition of being human.
      Thanks, Mark

  4. those moments are some of the great treasures of life. I am waiting for the next one to come along.


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