Tag: Saint Helen

Building for the Wee Folk

Doright Manor is set in the midst of a delightful forest in the Florida panhandle. From our screened in porch we enjoy the shade of oak trees, the majesty of pines, and the splendor of magnolias, along with all of the critters that call the forest home. 

I’ve always thought it the ideal place to offer sanctuary to fairies if we provided a proper home for the wee folk. Studly Doright wasn’t convinced that we needed a fairy home, though, until he saw the one at Saint Helen’s home in Hereford, Texas, on our visit in May.

 

Studly’s brother, Shaggy Doright, built Saint Helen’s fairy house.

When we knew we’d be entertaining our Dallas grandkids for two weeks, Studly decided that constructing a fairy home would be the perfect activity.

And so it begins: 

We each had our respective tasks:

   
    
    
    
  

  
 Mine consisted of documenting the process and staying well out of the way.

We didn’t quite complete the project yesterday afternoon. Studly and I ran out of energy before reaching the finish line. But we made a good bit of headway.

Tomorrow is another day.

Peace, people!

Saint Helen’s Birthday Bash

Studly Doright, the love of my life, was raised by an extraordinary woman who I’ve dubbed Saint Helen. Last week Studly and I traveled to the Texas panhandle to join in the celebration of Saint Helen’s 80th birthday.

The event, held at the Senior Citizen’s Center in Hereford, Texas, on Sunday afternoon was grand, with well over a hundred people in attendance. I turned to one of my children as I observed Helen greeting yet another guest and said, “You’re going to need to hire folks to come to my 80th.” 

I believe said child muttered something about there being no way I’d make it to 80 before dutifully responding, “Sure, Mom!”

Eighty is only two decades away for me, so I better start being nicer to people. Dammit. 

Back to Saint Helen, though…I took a great many photos and while most of my followers are not among her friends I hope you’ll indulge me. She really is a terrific person and the very best mother-in-law imaginable. 

 

This wonderful cake was made of cupcakes with a layer of icing covering them to make it appear like a regular sheet cake.
 
 
Helen, on the right, with her childhood friend Billy Tobe and his wife, Louise
 
My daughter, her middle daughter, and I arranged all of the flowers for the event. Not bad for three novices. 
Daughter Ashley created this arrangement for a memory table.
  
This creation on the reception table was mine.
   

My lovely 11-year-old granddaughter, McKayla took charge of the flowers on the refreshment table.

There was much laughter, tons of hugs, and general merriment all afternoon.   
Saint Helen’s friend, Leona
    
Father Tony bearing gifts of homemade sauerkraut and store bought water guns.
  
Monsignor Bloom with Saint Helen
  
    
Friend Annette.
  
Cousin Leighton.
 
 
Saint Helen with Studly Doright

 
Studly and I with Saint Helen and our children and grandchildren.
 

Two of the great grandkids kung fu fighting. No one was injured in this battle.
  
All of the great grandkids who could be present. Two had to leave early and one missed the celebration due to circumstances beyond his 3-year-old control.

 
My five grandbabies. Nothing makes me happier than having them all in one place.
I can’t imagine a better way to celebrate than with this bunch. 

Peace, people!  

 

  
 

A Poem for Helen

Some people light up the world. Not in a showy, boastful way, or a flashy, sassy way,

But in a deep down, soul-satisfying, love you with every beat of my heart kind of way.

Their spirits are so infused with goodness and grace that they make everyone around

Them feel important and valued and loved. My mother-in-law, Helen is one of these

Extraordinary people who can erase your fears with only words and a calming touch,

Whose faith and spirit make you glad to be alive and in her presence. Today we 

Celebrate her being on this earth for eighty glorious years, and we hope for many

Many more. 

Stopping in Claude

We once lived in this double wide trailer situated on a county road in Claude, Texas, back in the really bad old days.

  
This morning I made a detour on my route between Saint Helen’s home in Hereford, TX, to my son’s home in Dallas to see if it was still there.

It is. I’m not. Life IS good.

Peace, people!

Born a Ramblin’ (Wo)man

After a week watching over our Illinois grandchildren I’m back on the road. The three children, ages 13, 11, and three, were fun to look after while their parents enjoyed a much-needed second honeymoon.  

 

A wintery view of the Mississippi River from the Illinois side.
 
 But Studly Doright and I live an intensely laid back life–no rush or bustle, and going from that to getting three active kids ready for school in the mornings and into their respective beds at an appropriate time each night was a shock to my delicate system. I’m exhausted. 

I’m headed now to Hereford, Texas, where my lovely mother-in-law, Saint Helen, resides. This evening I’m staying in Emporia, Kansas, having fallen short of the halfway point between Rapids City, Illinois, and Hereford. I had to stop and take a nap at a rest stop this afternoon and that put me behind schedule. I HATE being behind schedule! 

Plus, I’ve come down with a head cold, so I’m sitting on my hotel bed, watching American Idol and struggling to breathe. In a few minutes I’m going to take a large dose of Tylenol extra strength liquid nighttime cold medicine and hope that my friend, Insomnia, doesn’t purloin my sleep. 

 Hopefully tomorrow will be a better travel day. In the meantime, here’s a little Allman Brothers’ tune to inspire us all.

http://youtu.be/68X8o0S7vJc
Peace and quiet, people!

On The Road My Friends

At some point this morning I will have departed from Doright Manor to take a trip of epic, dare I say Odyssean, proportions. Having packed my bags with everything from winter boots and a parka to capris pants and flip flops I should surely be prepared for any eventuality.

My first destination is a point north of Nashville, Tennessee, for an overnight stay. From there I’m bound for our daughter’s home in Rapids City, Illinois, where I will be baby sitter-in-chief for my daughter’s three children while the parents go to cavort in the bright sun of a Mexican beach.

  
  
After a week in Illinois I’ll head south to the Texas panhandle, the place that no matter where on earth I roam will always be home. I’ll stay with the lovely Saint Helen who gave birth to Studly Doright and hopefully get to commune with the rest of the panhandle-dwelling Noyes bunch. 

  
Once they’ve chased me out of town with torches and pitchforks I’m off to Dallas to spend a night with our son if we can get our schedules to sync. Then it’s on to Houston, that most intimidating city, for a couple of nights with the oldest of my two younger brothers and his wife. They’re taking me and Studly’s eldest (she’d say prettiest) sister to a big event. I’m sure I’ll blog about it afterwards. If I’m still capable, that is. 

  
  
I have another event in mind for the Houston stay, but I’ll save that for another post, as well. 

When my brother finally kicks me out of his home I’ll begin working my way back to Doright Manor. Somewhere on that stretch of road is a wonderful little outlet mall that’s been calling my name for awhile now.

  
I’ve been writing like a mad woman to stock my blog with pieces to post daily during my trip. I’m sure there will be times I can post something from the road, but just in case I can’t, the blog must, and will, go on! 

Any prayers, blessings, positive thoughts, etc., offered up for my safe travels will be greatly appreciated. And as always, peace, people.

Anagogglin

My vocabulary was enriched this week by the addition of the word, “anagoggle.”

 

Saint Helen at the historic capitol building in Tallahassee.

Saint Helen and I were exploring the little community of Colquitt, Georgia, and had walked quite a distance from my car. When we realized we were both fairly tired of walking in the heat we decided to begin angling our way back to our starting point. 

“We’ll just have to anagoggle our way back to the car,” Saint Helen said.

“Huh?” I replied in my most articulate manner.

“You know,” she said, demonstrating a zig zag pattern with her hands. “Anagoggle. You’ve never heard of that?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Must be a New Mexico thing,” said Saint Helen.

“Indeed.”

By that time we’d anagoggled over to the car and I’d conjugated the verb successfully: I anagoggled yesterday, we went anagogglin, we can anagoggle. 

 

Me before I knew anything about anagogglin.

Peace, people. 
 

Colquitt Silos

Yesterday I posted photos of the murals in downtown Colquitt, Georgia. Those murals pale in comparison to the silo murals in this small Georgia town.

Neither Saint Helen nor I claim to be professional photographers, and our only cameras are on our iPhones. Hopefully, though, our photos will convey at least an idea of the scope and beauty of these larger than life works of art:

   
    
   
Every crop grown in the area surrounding Colquitt is depicted on the silos.

We stopped in at the Colquitt Chamber of Commerce before heading downtown, and the women there were full of lively conversation and helpful information. In a future post I’ll share the town’s Cotton Hall Theatre schedule. I’m hoping that Studly Doright and I can attend one of their Swamp Gravy performances in the near future.

Peace, people!

Colquitt, GA

Saint Helen and I visited the quaint community of Colquitt, Georgia, today. We had a scrumptious lunch at the Tarrer Inn, and then wandered around the scenic town square. 

At one shop we purchased some lotion that’s purported to help alleviate the pain of arthritis. After one use Saint Helen was pleased to report that she had no pain in her hands. Of course she then had to sheepishly confess that she hadn’t actually had any pain in her hands to begin with. See why I adore her?

Colquitt is known for its murals, and for good reason.

 

Saint Helen

   

  

 Each corner building has its own mural depicting periods from the town’s history. 

Once Saint Helen shares her photos of the town’s beautifully painted silos with me I’ll post them, as well. Of course, if her hands are giving her trouble she might not be able to hit SEND on her iPhone.

Peace, people!

It’s a Jungle Out There

  
Saint Helen (my mother-in-law) and I were enjoying our morning coffee out on our newly completed screened-in porch when this magnificent bird made an appearance. 

Saint Helen grabbed her iPhone and quickly snapped this photo as the bird flew away to handle some noisy business just around the bend in the lake. Our imaginations have run amok:

  • The bird is fending off an alligator
  • The bird is protecting a nest
  • The bird is attempting to establish its dominance over another male
  • The bird is trying to impress a female
  • The bird is auditioning for an episode of Swamp People.

Heck, we aren’t even sure what kind of bird this is. Maybe an egret? A heron? An ostrich? If any of my readers can identify it I’d be grateful.