Wanted: social secretary 08/22/00

It has been a long time since I have had the number and variety of visitors that I have had this summer.  It has been delightful. 

This afternoon, Becky Cooper came over for a visit.  I felt myself getting on edge in the morning, worrying about what if she came and I had not finished my lunch.   

Like a lot of people, when something special is coming up, I get nervous.  At one time, I would have let my nerves get the better of me.  Instead, I found myself thinking that if I was still eating when she came by, we would just talk while I finished.  Progress! 

Another thing I worried about was whether Becky would find me a good conversationalist.  She has done so much with her life.  I live life - especially now - on a small scale and when I read about what she has done and  is doing I think of her as living large.

As it turned out, we had a satisfying conversation.  She would talk and ask questions and I would talk and ask questions.  I especially enjoyed that she is going after her teaching certificate. 

I like being around Becky.  She is forthright, which is a quality I have always admired.  I like watching her as she talks, she wraps what she says in tremendous energy.  It was a wonderful visit and I hope she comes back.  

It is hard for young people to fully understand how it feels getting older and having so many friends unable to visit, for one reason or another.  I miss Gay a lot.  She always brought so much energy in when she would drop by for a visit.  It is lovely to think of her with her Bishop (she liked to refer to Willard as "my Bishop") but I do miss her.   

So visits are precious.  Becky - thank you for taking the time to drop by to visit this Ancient One. 

Speaking of wanting a Social Secretary, we are having an open house here at Squirrel Haven on Sunday, September 3.  It is a chance for people to have what Elsa calls a "gab with the Gramster,"  see the summer tree, wish John & Elsa happiness on their 11th anniversary.  I think it is from 4-6.  Elsa will post information on my web site ...  it is plain, but it is all mine. 

This old Gramster needs to get her face washed, teeth scrubbed and tucked in.

Love to you all -  Katharine Reynolds Lockhart

"Mess 'a Fries" 08/20/00

Kerry, I have taken the liberty of including clanlock on the dist list for this posting because I think Mike will be interested in this topic, a favorite Lockhart late summer supper - a "mess 'a fries" also know as Maryland-Fried Tomatoes.

The summertime wait seems forever.  The dish requires real grown-in-the-garden tomatoes, which don't come in until August. 

We get our tomatoes at a farm just up Buck Road, a 3-minute drive from Squirrel Haven.  Elsa stopped by on her way home Friday night and since then this Gramster has been in tomato paradise.  Tomato sandwiches on Pepperidge Farm Whole Wheat bread, tomato salad, tomato wedges and tonight the ultimate - Elsa whipped up the summer’s first batch of fried tomatoes. 

Elsa has a hard time imagining how I was able to make fried tomatoes for a family of seven.  They are time consuming.  They have to be sliced, dredged in seasoned floor, cooked in butter over high heat, then kept hot until they are all done and the gravy is made by “deglazing” the pan with butter to draw all the bits left after frying into the basic cream sauce. 

A few years back, Elsa accidentally found a short cut.  The two of us were craving a mess 'a and there were only two or three tomatoes.  She fried the few tomatoes we had and made the usual pan gravy, then added the fried tomatoes and served them over rice.  It takes a lot less time than making plates full of the fried tomatoes with the gravy ladled over.  Now, we ladle the gravy ~ chockful of great chunks of beautiful Maryland-fried tomatoes ~ over brown rice.

Some of you may not find this a very appetizing meal.  You are in good company.   Certainly, it is one meal we do NOT eat around John.  Not only has he never found any joy in one of our favorite summer dishes, he makes unsavory comments about its appearance, getting more and more graphic as the meal goes on. 

Whenever I think of fried tomatoes, I think of summertime and the Lockhart family gathered around a tiny dining table in the Come Again Cabin (behind Mira & Lewis Grubb's house), happy and having a grand old time. 

What a wonderful supper - my compliments to the chef - and what a lovely memory on which to sail off to sleep on.    

Love to you all - Mum

Torch ramblings & "bowling" along 08/18/00

A story about bringing a touch of glamour to the Australian Bush (the Out Back) mentioned the birth place of Sir Donald Bradman.  That is a familiar name to me because he is one of the directors of the C.C. Morris Cricket Library at Haverford College in Haverford, PA.  I have seen his name for years and years on the organization's newsletter and it was quite something to see it pop up in the article.  We have great affection in our family for cricketeers*. 

The other unexpected encounter with a familiar name happened in today's - or is it tomorrow's?  This day-ahead business can get me jumbled about - article about the torch.  One of the towns the Olympic torch is passing through is Forbes.  My Australian granddaughter is named Karen Forbes Lockhart.  I am smiling as I dictate to Faithful Scribe, remembering so many happy things about that little girl who is now a woman. 

Two unexpected moments in a row - I am enjoying these articles.  The

Australians are having their try-outs right now, so there is a lot of

exciting reading to be had online, at smh.com.au (The Sydney Morning Herald). 

With happy thoughts about cricket and grandchildren, am off to bed.   

G'day -  Nan

*  from the C.C. Morris Cricket Library web site - -  Bart King is thought by many (J.A. Lester, P.H. Clark and numerous other contemporaries) to have been the best American to ever play cricket. He was a devastating fast bowler. For many years, Bart held the single-season English bowling record of 11.01 set in 1908 against county level teams during an extended summer tour.   (There is a very rare photo of him batting.)  Overshadowed by his bowling reputation, he is not as well known for his exceptional batting, but he does hold the US record with 344 in an innings and had 39 centuries during his career.  Many of Bart King's trophies are on display in the CC Morris Library."  (added 08/18/14 - in 2008, the magazine, Mental Floss, named Uncle Bart one of Ten Sports Heroes You Won't See on a Wheaties Box)

Uncle Bart's obituary, as it was written up by the Cricket Quarterly - -"John Barton King   17th October 1965     From: Cricket Quarterly,EV911-C91, 1966, page 61

He was one of the greatest cricketers of all time and he died within two days of his ninety-second birthday in the City of Brotherly Love where he was born: two months after his contemporary and bowling partner, P. H. Clark.  Those left to attend the funeral who had played with him were few indeed:  it is remarkable that there were any. Yet when MCC last played in Philadelphia in 1959, no fewer than 8 of the last first-class Philadelphian team to visit us, fifty-one years ago, came down to watch the match: it is impossible to refrain from the speculation that cricket, by virtue both of its physical and of its ethical demands, had prolonged their lives…   He married Miss Fanny Lockhart in 1913, whom he survived for a year or two, the marriage having lasted happily for fifty years. 

flits & feathers 08/17/00

As I sat in the big chair in the living room, looking out the picture window, I saw a big beautiful butterfly flitting about the bushes!  It was the first big one I have seen this summer.   It was yellow, with black edgings.  I have seen the small yellow ones flying around.  They are pretty, too. 

I had another unusual experience today.  Two birds, one after another, hurled themselves at the window.  They saw themselves reflected in the window and thought it was an enemy -  poor birds.   I was feeling sorry for them and hoped they were okay. 

Then I saw a big, handsome red cardinal taking his ease on the rhododendrons.  I felt Pete near and felt comforted.

That big, beautiful butterfly reminded me of a summer over 50 years ago.  We were at Lake Wallenpaupack when I saw the Great Luna Moth.  There it hung, on the door of Odhner's Cabin, its exquisite wings slowly weaving back and forth.  It was a pale cream color.  It was so lovely, it seemed to belong to the other world.

Before I say good night and head up the wooden hill to bed, I want to welcome a new member of our merry little band - Rebecca Cooper.  When I think of Becky, it is with awe for all that she has accomplished, in addition to being a wife and mom.  I am no longer an active participant on a discussion group she belongs to. To compensate, I took the liberty of adding her to the Mindwalker crew.

Nite nite - am off to the land of Winkin, Blinkin and Nod!  Grammie Kay

Thoughts & prayers 08/17/00

My thoughts & prayers are with the loved ones of the Kursk's crew. 

Special hugs to you all - Grammie Kay

Uplifting evening, bang-up day 08/16/00

Peter called last night around 7:00 p.m. to see if he could stop over with pictures of Whitney's wedding.  I thanked him for the opportunity and explained that I was going to a gathering at Emily Jane Lemole's.  I have come a long way when a chance to see Peter – and see pictures of Whitney’s wedding - does not automatically override other plans.

There are two things I would like to share about that gathering last night.  One is very down to earth and sort of "unmentionable" but is important to share.  We left for Emily Jane's right after dinner and I did not get a chance to "visit" Lamb (my commode), which is unheard of.  Yet, I was so focused on what I was going to do and then being there that it not cause any problems.  Wonder of wonders! 

The other is how wonderful it was to sit in the sphere of that beautiful house chapel.  I was seated in the far corner, with my back to the wall and several rows of people in front of me and I did not feel the least bit claustrophobic, which - looking back at it - seems unimaginable.  I am extremely claustrophobic.  My only reality was the sphere of peace and love filling the chapel, not that I was tucked in a far corner, blocked by the wall on two sides of me and people on the other two, and had not made a bathroom pit stop since before supper.

Although I was not able to catch more that bits and pieces of what the woman who lead the devotional service said, I could hear the cadence of her words and look into the faces of the people around and across from me.  What an interesting group.  Directly in front of me and to my right were five or six husband & wife pairs. 

One of the things that touches me deeply with this discussion about evolving roles within our church is the diversity.  I do not recall anything quite like it.  There is a wonderful sense of openness to the Lord and a deep desire to be lead by Divine Light. 

The singing was heavenly.  It was fun for this "youngster"  to learn a new song.  At the end of the service, a young woman that I have known and loved since she was in high school showed how the Africans worship God, raising her arms about her head and swaying. I would have joined in, except they would have had to call an ambulance. 

As I told Emily Jane when we parted, I would not have missed it for anything. 

By the time we got home, I was very tired.  Peter was heading in the door as we drove up.  My heart sank.  I did not have the energy reserves to look through photos.  All I wanted to do was head up the wooden hill. 

Peter seemed to sense that - maybe it was my stumbling to my knees heading up the steps to the front door - and said he would check back later.  He is not available evenings - and he wants Elsa there, for some unknown reason, since both she and I get the strong sense she gets on his nerves, so workday mornings and afternoons are out.  He suggested 7:30 a.m. on Saturday.  Now, that would be something - this "lazy bones" doesn't get up until 9:00 a.m. at the earliest and I slept until 11:00 a.m. last week.

Last night's sense of weariness continued into today.  This afternoon I took a tumble in the kitchen.  My legs just gave out.  It was good luck that I landed with a great !plop! on a bag of recycled newspapers - had I fallen to my left instead of my right, I might have taken a flyer down the steps to the den.  Frightening thought.

John was down from his studio in a flash, full of reassurances and great bits of humor as he helped me to the big chair in the living room.  I was shaken and felt like I might burst into tears at any moment.  I still felt that way when Schatzi got home from work. 

It was scary! 

I had her take a look at my banged-up left arm.  I suffered mostly bruises and one nasty abrasion, which she cleaned off, disinfected and bandaged up.  I wish I had some of that wonderful liquid Arnica, which is almost miraculous in its healing powers.  If anyone out there knows where to get some, please tell me.

Am more than ready for bed and a good night's rest.   

Love to one & all - a spiritually uplifted, physically banged-up GRAMSTER