high school – The Hermits' Rest

Time for Bed after a Fine Day

What’s your favorite time of day?

I’m positive that my favorite time of day is the hour before o go to sleep, when I read and blog. I love the transition from one day to the next.

This is what I did just before bedtime – showing off the temperature blanket

Before bedtime, I had quite a fun day with my high school friend Kathy, who drove up to see me today. After getting my antibiotic, which I hope make me feel better, we went on a little hike to the lovely Rainbow Lake.

There were some interesting challenges, like a log crossing over a creek, but we made the trek and found the lake.

Thanks to Kathy’s excellent rain prediction skills we got back to the car just in time for the rain to start. it rained off and on the rest of the day, but not badly.

We had a great lunch at Blue Stag, a place with much game meat on the menu. It was great, especially the green salsa, and we met a nice baby. Fun shopping followed. It’s always better to shop with someone!

After going back to the condo and knitting a bunch, we walked in the rain to the Mexican restaurant close to the condo and ate and talked and talked. I just love catching up with old friends!

Two drinks, trying to wait out the rain.

More talking and knitting ensued back at the condo, and by the time I went to bed I was wiped out. I fell asleep blogging. I did re-read the first part, in case it wasn’t coherent.

Today I’m getting throat lozenges and a new toothbrush (so as not to reinfect myself, and laying low. I sound like I’ve been a smoker for 50 years.

Meet My Friend Anita!

Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.

Hmm, already I am wondering if it was a good idea to do this project where I answer the daily prompt for the month of September. I was stumped about who I could interview that wouldn’t take forever and would be somewhat interesting.

Then I realized I have lots of friends who are good writers, and that actually, everyone is interesting; So, I narrowed the list of possibilities down to who I figured could type fast and was bribable. Okay! So, I promised to pay to take Anita to the Barbie movie if she’d introduce herself to all five of you who read this blog!

And if you want to answer these same questions, you can be a blog post, too. It’s like the blog will practically write itself.

All About Anita

(In her own words)

Where were you born? Did you stay there long?

Stoneham, Massachusetts. We left after 6 months because my dad’s mother died and he wanted to go back to Delaware. And probably also because I crawled out the front door of the house and into the front yard without anyone noticing for a good while. I distinctly remember doing this. The first, but certainly not the last, time I tried to run away from home.

Where were your ancestors from?

Scotland, England, Ireland. I am as White as White can be.

Any siblings?

I had an older brother who died in 2007 of brain cancer. On Mother’s Day. But before that, he spent a lot of time tickling me, holding me up to the ceiling, or hanging me over the toilet and threatening to flush me down, all of which I thought was great. He was a very cool guy with a dry sense of humor and great taste in music.

Share three good or funny memories of high school

Uhhhh, hmmm, hanging out with you in your bedroom, playing records and talking and writing; skipping class to go to the beach in Boca Raton; cutting up confetti and bringing a giant black sign with the middle finger painted on it in white to high school football games (of course, I got in some trouble for that; The Man also didn’t like the confetti much. Huh.).

Share the three things you liked least about high school.

9th grade English: My life was threatened a number of times by a classmate, and also the teacher was incredibly incompetent. A certain “friend” who thought she owned me. The snobbishness and rudeness of some of the more well-off kids toward those of us who were considered weirdos or were living in poverty.

Where did you go to college? What was your major?

East coast South Florida. My initial major was journalism, but the program at my upper-level school was garbage (and my time working at a major newspaper kinda ruined it too), so I switched to Film, which I loved and still love to this day.

What kinds of jobs have you had as an adult?

Somewhat boringly and consistently, I have been an editor in the hard sciences all of my career. I’ve also rehabbed some houses, one in keeping with local and national standards of historic preservation (it was a 200+-year-old house).

What’s your favorite kind of food?

I love Mediterranean cuisines. And Indian food. And sushi. And a good brownie hot fudge sundae.

Tell us some of your collections.

Oh my. Pez, CDs, old movie DVDs. Pueblo pottery, southwestern/turquoise jewelry, books about strange/controversial subjects, cacti, rocks/minerals, glass balls, magnets. diner memorabilia, oddball Xmas decorations, objects from Baltimore. I think that’s it, but I’ll probably think of more later.

What’s your spiritual path? Your philosophy?

I believe there is a creative force or energy in the universe not named God or Jesus or Allah or whatever. It is not an old bearded White dude, sitting on a throne, telling me I have to be good or I’ll go to hell and suffer for all eternity. I believe the world would be a better place if we could be our true selves, without all the worries, pain, and suffering society puts on us. I want to live in harmony with nature; I don’t always succeed, but I try. I will hug a tree, dammit.

Do you believe in true love?

I did once, but “life” had other plans for me. And that is heartbreaking to me at times.

Which of your past pets is or was the weirdest?

Wow, they have all been super-weird in some way. Fiesta, a cat I had with my ex-husband, was a complete lunatic, but adorable. Pickle, my current dog, has many, let’s call them, quirks.

Introvert or extravert?

I would say both, depending on the situation and my state of mind. I am not a natural at parties/gatherings where I don’t know the people. I can be rather shy. But if I know you and I like you, I’m pretty much all in. I’m a strong believer in telling people you love them. You just never know when your last day together will be and you don’t want to miss the chance.

Favorite color?

Green green green all the day long. And then orange and yellow.

Thanks so much! I love you too, my long-time friend.

My Favorite Luxury

What’s the one luxury you can’t live without?

Ha ha, today’s blog prompt has saved me from posting a picture of a caterpillar and a horse, and that’s it. Now I can answer this! I’m not averse to luxury, I have to say, but I don’t need it to be happy. Well, perhaps I need the expensive horses for my sanity…

That’s right, she needs me and my vet bills, body work, dental work, training, and supplements. Because I’m fun. (Apache is getting bodywork in this photo, with Jackie hiding behind him.)

But I think the luxury I need the most is my nail polish. I think I’ve loved nail polish as long as I’ve loved horses. Mmmmm. Nails.

I just love changing out my nails and growing them long. It’s like they’re a crop I grow for myself then make decorative. I guess there are reasons why I’ve always kept my nails fancy, even though I don’t see myself as fancy (just well coordinated).

When I was a kid, I had anxiety (duh) though I think we said I was nervous. I bit my nails to calm myself. The whole family pointed out how awful this was (though it was apparently fine that my brother bit his and as far as I know still does). I hated that I bit my nails but I sure loved it.

The women of the family prided themselves on nails. Natural nails. My grandmother on Mom’s side had long, painted nails. My mom always had beautiful red nails. My much older half sister always had really long nails painted a shade of mauve I hated. Okay, Granny Kendall bit her nails, and patted me while she said I had little stubby fingers , just like hers. She was a wonderful woman, but I didn’t want stubby fingers. I wanted to look elegant.

So, when I was ready for high school, which was a new start for me with mostly new people, I decided I’d try to have polished nails for the first day of school. I managed to grow my nails for three weeks by knitting and crocheting a lot to keep my hands busy. I had red nails for the first day of school. And a popular boy said they looked nice!

I never bit a nail again. By the end of 9th grade I had talons. It took me a while to learn to keep them a reasonable length. And oh wow, did I change colors a lot. My friend Lynn and I must have spent all our tiny allowances on cheap nail polish. Well, it kept us out of trouble.

I did go through a few years with no polish, but not many. I just like it. I did do gel nails for a year or so, but I had to stop when I realized it was messing up my nails big time. So, it was back to Essie and OPI, which lasted much longer than 1970s polish. Until a friend had a Color Street “party” or whatever those are called. It used to be Nail Bars.

Yeah. Nail polish strips with glitter, flowers, ombré effects and more were right up my alley. There are other similar brands, but these are made in the US and have great quality control. This luxury is a lot less than going to a salon. So I’m sticking with them.

They do have calm, solid colors. I just never pick those.

That’s enough advertisement for something I don’t get paid to endorse. I’m not a great influencer, I guess. But if you’d like to learn more, use this shopping link (through the end of June) and order a set. Or I can hook you up with a free sample. Again, this is just because I like the product.

In other news, both my horses are doing well, according to Jackie, who worked on them today. We had a good talk about stuff we gave to improve on for horse shows and promised to film each other if we can (we are in the same class, so we often are warming up or unsaddling when the other is riding).

I shared this lady week but our happy faces are worth sharing again. We were glad we survived.

We were thrilled that there was a breeze and it was a little cloudy today. It’s very hot already.

I did see some nature! This feller will grow up to be a gorgeous white spotted salt marsh moth. It was on a dandelion.

Rainy Day Memories

We are still going through boxes from my old house. Lee has been bringing up things from deeper and deeper in the past. For example, he brought in a box I instantly recognized. It was a shoebox covered in contact paper that looked like wood.

I used to love woodgrain contact paper. I covered a dorm fridge and a wall telephone in it while in college.

The box contained my high school diaries, 1972-1975. See why it’s no surprise I like to write blog posts? I’ve always loved journaling. There have been very few years of my life that didn’t have journals, diaries, or some record.

Deep stuff in here (actually, remarkably little deep stuff and remarkably many boring details of what happened in my classes)

I remember writing these diaries and I remember that everyone I knew was aware that I did. What I didn’t remember until I opened the later diaries was that I wrote them in Spanish. As I posted on Facebook, not only did I protect my family from reading it, but also future me.

From my reading of the exciting year of 1974, I came to a couple of conclusions about teen Suna. One, she was driven by hormones. I sure read a lot of details about what various young dudes said and did. They apparently spent more time asking each other who they liked than actually dating, however. I was insanely jealous of two girls my “dream date” seemed interested in. On the other hand, I had plenty of hormones left over for numerous high school band members.

In addition to my secondary theme of what Anita and I bought at the mall, I did something that I’m pretty sure I’m still doing today. I wrote things down partially to convince myself that they were true. Every week it was either “Dream Date is NOT for me,” or “I feel all gooey when I look at Dream Date.” I think I tried very hard to convince myself that person wasn’t important at all to me, but I was lying. I mean, shoot, that guy is STILL someone I am dazzled by even though we broke up in 1985 (all my fault).

Just reading the stuff I wrote gives me an impression of myself that isn’t very good. I don’t think I’d have liked me very much. We were all pretty mean to each other, we had horrible nicknames for teachers and fellow students, and we were overly cliquish. I’m glad I’ve spent the last 50 or so years trying to be less of an asshole, even though I still fail at times.

Any Other Memories, Suna?

Yes, I have memories that are less harsh on myself that showed up in these boxes. There were a lot of old photos that somehow missed my anal-retentive storage organization system. I was charmed to find photos of the playhouse my dad and maternal grandfather made for me and my brother when we were little. Those two mathematical geniuses decided to build it with no right angles, anywhere. Oh my gosh they had fun with their protractors and saws. We loved that thing.

The photo of Dad and Pappy working on it is a treasure. I barely remember my grandfather, because he died soon after this,

The playhouse eventually became Dad’s tool shed after he built us a “treehouse” that we used as older kids. The playhouse still stands.

Another creation of my dad’s that I found pictures of the fishpond. He built this himself of his own design. The photos below were right after he finished. Later he added a pump and turned poor Saint Francis into a fountain. Water came out of the bird’s nest he held (Dad also thought it was Saint Frances for many years – hey, the saint had long hair and wore a dress, plus Dad had a sister named Frances). Lucky for Francis, dad later found a cool rock to be the waterfall, and the birdbath went back to its original purpose.

That’s water hyacinth in there, before we realized it was invasive.

That pond was a real thing of beauty and a highlight of our home. We had huge goldfish and catfish Mom had fished out of Newnan’s Lake as babies. Mom’s favorite story was that a little boy came to visit, wandered behind the house and came running up to his dad, saying, “Good God, Daddy, they gots a LAKE in their back yard!”

The back of the house. Notice the pots and pans on the patio. Mom set the leftovers out for Wendy Pace, the neighbor springer spaniel.

On that note, I’ll just share some photos that gave me warm fuzzy feelings. First, it’s no surprise that I like horses. I unpacked my china horses and giant plastic draft horse and this photo of me embarrassing my dad and kids.

And we can’t forget my first dog, Gwynneth. I got her because that’s the kind of dog I thought would fit our family best. That dog sure barked a lot, but we did love her for 15 years. Even when she was blind!

Happy Reunion

Today’s highlight was a visit from a high school friend, Kathy Herzog Evans. I’m so glad these interesting people keep reappearing in my life! It was so kind of her to drive over to see me from where she lives.

We are laughing because the sun was blinding us.

We had a great time catching up on the past 45 years and finding out all we have in common. We knew we were both knitters, but many other things popped up, like being too fond of jewelry and cowboy boots.

We wandered through parts of Breckenridge that I hadn’t seen before and neither had Kathy. We found an artist area, the county courthouse and many more old houses.

Some shopping also occurred.

We had a good meal at, of all things, a barbecue place. It was up to Texas standards, though! And the old fashioned made from local bourbon was heavenly.

Our waiter was a spitting image of Mandi’s son, Matthew. He even talked like him. I enjoyed making him talk. Plus, he took our picture and was patient with our knitting and chatting.

We came back and talked and knitted for four hours. It was a real pleasure sharing experiences and thoughts with Kathy. What a good day!