Category Archives: Personal

Posting again

Maybe you are as shocked to see a new post from me here as I am.  Maybe not.

It has been a long time since I even considered posting here on this longest running of all my blog attempts.  It’s not worth the time to rehash or go back and try to analyze what was going on.  It’s best to see my posting this entry as someone walking in the door and calling out “I’m home.”  The only salient fact is that I’m back, not how long I was gone or for what reason.

Life has moved on for me, but I am back here and vocal again.  For better, I hope, or worse, if need be.

Why am I home again?  If I answer that honestly, I’d say it’s because I took a look at again, and I was delighted by the improvements that the Automattic team has made to the interface for writing a blog.  Everything is easier to do than it used to be.  I can focus on adding the content and what to say, and pretty much whatever I want to do (at least so far) I have been able to do intuitively and with remarkably little effort.  I so liked the interface, I decided to use it for this entry.

And so I’m back.    Welcome back me.


I lie in wait.

woods - squirrels

Ever since I came back from New Mexico, I’ve had a running battle with the squirrels that live around here, but it’s their fault.  They started it by deciding to set up housekeeping inside the walls between me and my neighbor.  They just tunneled in and started reproducing.

I’m just sayin’

I ain’t washing tomorrow. Oh, I’ll take a shower, but I mean I’m not washing clothes. Nope. I’m getting that done today.

Not that I really believe that old legend commonly thought true (audio version by yours truly) by those adults in my world when I was growing up that if you wash on New Year’s day, it’s bad luck and someone in your family will die during that year. Not that I believe that, but at my age, I’m really hoping that none of my relatives feel an urgent need to start the new year out right by cleaning up all their dirty laundry.

It can wait one more day folks. Give it a rest, please!

And maybe you and I both will celebrate next New Year’s Eve.

In Santa’s wake

The visitors have gone. Recycling to do. Stockings no longer hung. Crumpled wrapping paper in plastic bags everywhere. Managed to enjoy ourselves amidst and despite the stresses of the season wrapped as they were in a whirlwind schedule nobody could control. Ate, drank, sang, laughed, talked together. Exchanged gifts as seen on TV. Played with toys. Wasted almost no time on sleep. Wallowed in the pleasures of having visitors whom I love in my home.

Not unexpectedly, acquired three almost-certain-new clients for my tech support help who were no doubt sent by Life to help me learn even more patience.

Thanks All for giving me the gift of your visit to my home.

My kind of cooking show

Something about the simplicity of this video really appeals to me.

It does a good job of simulating how daughters and sons learn to cook from watching their fathers and mothers. Learning to cook is more about trying things than it is about following a recipe. As I typed the first sentence of this paragraph, I was aware that not just daughters, but also sons, learn not just from their mothers, but also from their fathers, how to cook. It serves to remind me that as time goes on, roles and families evolve.

For instance, my son Mike who lived with me from his 14th birthday forward learned to cook by participating with me in preparing our meals. Today he is the primary chef in his home and he enjoys the role. A funny aside from Morgan the other day was the one in which she asked, “Mom what did we eat before Mike was here?”

He has said he’d like to run a restaurant but I’ve always heard that is a terribly demanding occupation. Maybe Mike is channeling my uncle Pat Ross who ran Pat’s Place there on Main Street in Stone Mountain from my earliest youth until he passed away. Uncle Pat was almost always at the restaurant. I never knew of him going to a baseball game, or to a dance, or to church or going hunting or fishing with my dad; in other words, I don’t think Uncle Pat had a hobby outside of his restaurant. I suppose that is why it had better be a labor of love if one chooses to open a restaurant.

Connor Sings his ABCs

Mike posted this milestone moment on his Flickr photostream, and as a proud grandpa, I almost felt entitled to snap it up and post it here too without asking, but I did the right thing and called Mike and got his permission to post it. I’m sure you’ll find it one of those “Awwww, moments.”

Note: Please leave a comment if for any reason this video does not play for you. It is designated as “Friends and Family only” on Flickr, so I’m unsure whether everyone will be able to play it here on my site. So let me know, please. Thanks.

Today is my anniversary

home_0687 Looking out my office window, I can’t help drifting off into the memory that Carole and I were married on August 25, 1962, a mere 47 years ago today, at the Decatur (GA) First Christian Church.  Dr. Charles Schwab performed the ceremony during which, in a move similar to that of Chief Justice John Roberts who muffed the oath of office to President Obama last January 20th, he asked me “do you Nelson Perry … etc.”  But despite that glitch the sun shone brightly on our wedding day. 

We left the church in the car that had been “decorated” by our friends but we switched cars a mile or so away from the church before leaving for our honeymoon in Gatlinburg, TN. And there we stayed for a few days at, where else?, the Ogle Cabins. 

Our first night together , however, was spent at the Riviera Motel on Peachtree at I-85 in Atlanta.  I failed to take note of the room number, I’m now sorry to recall.  It’s funny to me that details such as that are interesting this far removed from the event.  The remaining details of our first night together were buried with Carole on June 10th and my memory grows dimmer by the moment.  Yes, I know, but I ain’t tellin’.

So today I’m going to celebrate the anniversary of my wedding day by painting my ceiling. I’m a Romantic, don’t you think?