My sister and I had lunch at a local winery a few weeks ago. To get there, we had to travel for a few miles down a narrow, windy country road. On the way, we passed an old, abandoned house almost hidden behind a huge magnolia tree. On our way home we pulled over to take pictures.
Places like this have always fascinated me. How long has the house been there? Who built it? And why? Maybe some young man bought this house for his bride. And carried her across the threshold. A farmer and his wife moved here with plans to fill the fields with crops and the yard with children. Or it could have been a place of refuge for someone who wanted to be left alone.
There’s no telling. If only the old place could talk. What stories would it tell?
5 Five Flights Up is a 2014 American comedy-drama, starring Morgan Freeman (one of my favorite actors) and Diane Keaton. The film is based on the novel Heroic Measures written by Jill Ciment and was released on May 8, 2015.
Alex and Ruth Carver, an older couple, want to move from their charming apartment because living in a 5-story walk-up is becoming too difficult for them to manage without an elevator. Alex is a painter and uses one of the rooms as his studio. Ruth is a retired school teacher. They have lived there so many years that it and the neighborhood have become intertwined with their lives. Their niece Lilly is their broker and is pressuring them to sell because she believes the apartment is worth up to $1M.
Three other plot lines develop simultaneously with the sale of the apartment. Do they pay for an expensive operation for their elderly dog or do the humane thing and put her to sleep. The second is an alleged terrorist who may be lurking in the neighborhood near the Carvers’ apartment and how it impacts the sale of their apartment. The third is the Carver’s search for the perfect new home.
Their decision in the end may come as a surprise. Or not. But it was a lovely story about growing older and all the things that go with it, both good and bad.
Meatloaf – An economic staple from my childhood made a hundred different ways. This is my recipe. 1 – 2 lbs ground meat, 1/2 a sleeve crushed saltines or bread crumbs, 1 egg, 1/2 chopped onion, 1/2 cu chopped bell pepper, 1/2 cup catsup or tomato sauce. Salt and pepper to taste. Mix together. Press into a loaf pan and cook at 350 degrees until done in the middle (about an hour) Serve with macaroni and cheese and fruit salad.
Floren
rolled around on the ground clutching his shaking belly and laughing like a
hysterical hyena.
Owen glared
at him. “What’s so funny?”
The dwarf
pointed at him, hiccupping uncontrollably. “I can’t help it. The very idea. Owen,
a ranger with the reputation of being the greatest swordsman ever playing mommy
to an orphan baby dragon. Think about what that’s going to do to your
reputation.” He covered his mouth in an attempt to hide snorts of laughter.
Misa threw
up her arms. “I think it’s sweet. Don’t you Calebth?”
The elf had
a point. It was kind of endearing. And the little dragon was so dang cute, and
he started to say so, but when he saw the ranger’s angry expression, he
shrugged his shoulders and shut his mouth in a hurry.
*
* * *
They managed to salvage their supper.
Calebth scraped the burned spots off the fish, and Misa shoed him how to sauté the
mushrooms until they were plump and juicy. After supper, when stomachs were full,
everyone was in a better mood.
Misa handed
Calebth a bucket. “Take this down to the river and fetch some water.”
Floren
snorted. “Sure that’s a good idea? I’m willing to wager the boy can’t do that
without making a mess of things. Anybody game?”
Calebth
drew himself up to his full height and frowned at the dwarf. “Of course, I can.
That’s simple enough for a child to handle.”
Misa patted the
boy on his arm. “Don’t pay any attention to Floren. He likes to think he’s
funny.”
Calebth
walked away from camp and down to the river’s edge, dragging the pail behind
him and feeling sorry for himself.
I’ve got to
stop making mistakes. Misa feels sorry for me. Floren thinks I’m a joke. And as
far as Owen is concerned, I’m useless. He’s never going to teach me to use the
sword if I don’t show him I’m not a complete failure.
He was so
busy trying to think up ways to prove his worth, he didn’t notice the splashing
in the water. Or if he did, he thought it was a fish. He didn’t see the sleek
green head with scales poked up out of the water. Another one joined it. And
then another. Pretty soon there were six pairs of eyes following the boy.
He got down
on his knees to fill the pail, and when he did, arms grabbed him by the
shoulders and pulled him in the water. He held his breath as long as he could before
swallowing mouth full of water, thinking I’m going to drown. One of the
creatures blew a bubble that covered his face, and suddenly he could breathe
again.
When Calebth
didn’t come back to camp Owen, Misa and Floren went down to the river to look
for him.
Misa
plucked and iridescent scale out of the mud at the edge of the water. “Are there
sprites in these waters?”
“Aye.” Floren
shook his head. “They probably took him.”
Owen drew
his sword and called out. “Give us back the boy. He’s worth nothing to you.”
“One of the
sprites popped his head up out of the water. “Of course we will, ranger. For a
price. Give us your shiny gold coins. All of them. We can use them to light up
our home under the water.”
After
a moment’s hesitation, Owen reached for
the moneybag he wore around his waist.
Floren
grabbed his arm and hissed. “You can’t do that.”
“We have no
other choice,” Misa said.
The ranger held
the bag in the air. “Release the boy unharmed, and it’s yours.”
Owen, Misa, Floren took Calebth went back to
camp. The boy sat next to the fire, shivering while Misa piled on more wood.
Four miserable faces stared into the flames.
“What are
we going to do now?” Calebth sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Cold, sopping
wet and depressed. He couldn’t have been more miserable if he tried.
“You tell
me.” The dwarf muttered. “Thanks to you we have no money for a boat to take us
to Dragon Island. And we can’t go back to the mine because it’ll be overrun
with bats. We’re back to square one.”
“Quit blaming
the boy.” Misa waved a branch at the dwarf.
Owen spoke
up. “We’re all to blame. Especially me.”
Everyone
stared at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Misa, either
you or Floren should have gone with him to get water. And none of this would
have happened if I’d been training the boy like he asked.” The ranger was
right. And they all knew it.
When they
camped the next night, Owen gave Calebth his first lesson. Once they finished, the
ranger showed him how to clean his sword while they listened to Misa and Floren,
arguing over choice of weapons and whose was better. Mowg curled into a ball at
their feet.
The elf
waved her wand in the air. “Mine is light and can be used at long range.”
Floren snorted
sarcastically. “Someone could snap it into without even trying. An axe weighs
more and can do more damage.”
“I can do
spells from a 100 yards away. You have to be up close to inflict injury.”
In the
middle of their argument, Mowg jumped to his feet and growled, glaring out into
the darkness.
This is what Wikipedia has to say about Labor Day. In the US, it is celebrated on the first Monday in September. It honors the American Labor movement and contributions that workers have made to the strength, prosperity, laws, and well-being of the country. It is a federal holiday and is considered the unofficial end of summer in the United States.
To me, it means farewell to road trips, weekends at the lake, trips to the beach, camping. By now, we’ve all gotten sunburned at least once, fought off mosquitoes, stayed in the water until our skin was wrinkly and eaten dozens of hot dogs.
Now it’s time to shift gears, and get ready for cooler weather, football games, and sitting out under the stars enjoying s’mores. I’m ready. How about you?
Susan A. Royal 