A Summer BBQ

         Yesterday we had a BBQ here at our mountain home. We invited some of our neighbors and some family.

         In the first row, left to right, is me, our neighbor Rosie Kipp, and cousin Rosemary Cosentino.

         Second row is a friend of cousin Joe's, whose name is also Joe and his wife Stacy. Then it's cousin Joe and Rosemary's husband Carmen.

         Third row is....

         Hmmm....

         Is Jon Robinson standing next to his wife Stephanie or behind her? Let's say behind her. So third row is neighbor Steph Robinson, neighbor Lamar Kipp — yes he's got the same last name as the lady up front, in fact, that's his wife, then it's cousin Justin on the end.

         Last row is Jon Robinson, my Mike, and my brother Richard.

         "Wow! Your brother is tall," you say.

         Yeah, well not quite that tall. He's standing on our hillbilly side table, aka a stump — but it's not just any ole stump! It was a piece of a tree that came down in the Kipps yard a few years ago, so it has sentimental value.

         As Mike and I were getting ready for the BBQ, I got out all the glass I'd made and decorated the patio with it. I took each piece out of its wrappings, held it up, and thought how pretty it was, then I'd hang it on a nail that Mike put in special for me. Everything sparkled in the sunshine and threw pinpoints of light around the patio. The chimes made the prettiest tinkle in the slight breeze.

         As people arrived and I greeted them, I told them, "Now, you see all my pretties hanging around?" and I pointed them out.

         "Yeah," they would say.

         "I want you to check them out while you're here and take one with you when you leave, as our gift to you — if you want one, that is."

         As BBQ's go, this one was pretty average. Mike grilled burgers, hot dogs, brats, Italian sausage, and chicken. Then, with all the sides I'd made and the sides people brought, there was so much food it was ridiculous! We'll be eating leftovers for a month of Sundays!

         Justin brought corn on the cob and even steamed it for us. It was tender and sweet and a great addition to the BBQ. Then he set up horseshoes, got a team around, and they played a game.

         Mike left the game early because he couldn't take the sun, and Steph, being such a good friend and neighbor, teased him unendingly about it too!

         "Rosemary, you wanna play a round of Quiddler while the guys are playing horseshoes?" I asked.

         "I almost brought my Quiddler game not knowing you had a deck," she replied.

         "Com'on Rosie," I invited on my way through with the cards and dictionaries. Then to Rosemary I said, "She used to be a school teacher, she likes words."

         "Really!" Rosemary exclaimed and looked to Rosie. "What did you teach?"

         "English."

         Rosemary laughed.

         "We don't stand a chance against her," I quipped.

         We'd only gotten a couple of rounds in when cousin Joe arrived and we stopped the game to visit with him.

         When Joe was getting ready to leave, I invited him to pick a suncatcher, if he wanted one. With guys you never know. He looked them over and chose a red, white, and blue American heart.

         Once he had gone, Justin picked up the Quiddler cards we'd left on the table and examined the beautiful and unusual design. "What kind of game is this?" he asked.

         "It was your mother's favorite game!" I exclaimed.

         "I thought her favorite game was Pinochle," he said confused.

         "It was," Rosemary responded. "But I couldn't get the hang of it so I taught her how to play this."

         Richard didn't want to play but he rounded the table many times as he looked over the shoulder of — and offered advice to — whomever's turn it was, and he had a great time doing it too!

         When the Kipps were picking out their suncatchers, Lamar chose a three piece Dangly. "I want this one," he said and took it down. "It must be mine because it has my picture on it."

         I was surprised and confused until I saw the center piece was a mirror and then I laughed at his good joke.

         Before Carmen and Rosemary left, they passed out gifts of their own. Rosemary made these beautiful trash bag holders for the car. The loop goes over the gearshift where it's close at hand and it stays open so it's easy to use too! They were all different and I chose the puppy dogs for myself.

         Speaking of gifts, I just have to brag on this beautiful piece that I received as a birthday gift.

         Rosie Kipp painted this saw for me. It's got a chickadee sitting on my mailbox, a red barn in the background, a rabbit in the foreground, a sumac as well as other trees, and lots of pretty flowers.

         I can't tell you how much I love this gift from the beautiful heart of a beautiful — and talented! — woman.

         "How are your fingers?" you ask.

         Well thank you for asking. My fingers were doing great — until I smacked them with a hammer. Man-oh-man! Did that ever hurt! It broke it open and made it bleed a little but luckily that was before the stitches were out.

         "Well Peg!" you exclaim, "What did you do that for!"

         Let me tell you what happened.

         I've been going barefoot for quite a while now, toughing up the soles of my feet and sunning away the sock line.

         Tuesday was a warm and sunny morning. I'd had a box of hangers in the wayback that'd gotten dirty and rusty so I took them to the patio to clean and salvage what I could of them.

         "Just throw them away and buy some more," Mike said. "They're not that expensive."

         "No!" I just don't see the point in being wasteful.

         I had a few pretties that had been hanging there on the patio for a couple of months now and the wind had taken one down. Glass. Concrete. Yeah. It broke. I'd picked it up, hung it up again, and never thought about the shards of glass left behind. Me and my bare feet found one such shard. In my heel. Right where I couldn't see to dig it out.

         Rosie and Lamar stopped by on their morning walk that morning and Rosie looked at it for me, but couldn't see anything.

         "Put tape on it and it'll draw it out," Lamar suggested.

         Mike looked at it and he couldn't see anything either.

         Every time I put pressure on my foot, I'd get a stabbing pain. I was convinced there was something in there. I put tape on it in hopes it would pull it out. In the meantime, I had exercise class that night and if I couldn't stand on my foot — I wouldn't be able to exercise.

         I sent a text to Joanie, one of my workout gals. If I can't walk on it, I'm going to skip class tonight.

         Oh no, Joan texted back. I have to put you in a bubble girlfriend!!!

         A minute or two later I got another text from her. When Faith (her daughter) was a kid, she had a piece of glass in her foot and Lamar said to put adhesive tape on it and it will draw it out and by George, it did! And we cancelled the surgery she was scheduled for.

         That sounded promising to me. I told her I'd give it a try and we went on to talk about class that night.

         I have a key to open the door. You soak the foot and try to draw it out... Class won't be the same without you! Joanie said.

         I know, right! I thought. It would be the first class I've ever missed, and I could use the time to get more chores done, but more importantly.... Soak? No one ever said soak before! I texted back to Joanie.

         Seems like you should to make sure it's clean with Epsom salts and it may possibly draw it out easier.

         I told her I'd give it a try. In the meantime I walked on my toes. I walked on my toes all afternoon! Every time I'd forget and put pressure on my heel, it hurt. It felt like I was being stabbed. And back up on my toes I went.

         "Do you want me to look at again?" Mike asked.

         "Would you?" Nothing like answering a question with a question.

         "Sure."

         We set up a couple of chairs out in the sunshine and Mike dug around in it for as long as I could stand it.

         "It looks like it's cut but I think there's something black in here," he said.

         "When I went back to see what I'd stepped on, I found a small piece of concrete with blood on it," I told him. "Maybe it wasn't glass after all."

         "Well, try to walk on it now."

         I got up and took a few tentative steps. I grinned real big! "I think you got it!" Boy, was I happy. "Thank you babe!" I could make it to class after all! I started walking normally and, "OWWW!" stabbing pain again. I was crestfallen.

         It was getting on to suppertime and since I wasn't going to class, Mike and I decided to go to Robbie's for a calzone. On the way home from dinner we got behind Steph who was on her way home from work. Steph is a good splinter-picker-outer. She's picked out many a splinter of glass for me, usually my fingers though, and she is very gentle and hardly ever hurts me.

         "Do you think she'd pick it out for me?" I asked Mike.

         "I don't know."

         "I'll call her," I said and dialed her cell. She has Bluetooth so she'll answer a call while she's driving. She didn't answer. "Maybe she's talking to Jonecca." That's her daughter.

         "We'll follow her home and see if she'll look at it for you."

         We followed Steph up her driveway and parked behind her. "Hello, little lady," she said cheerfully as she climbed out of her SUV.

         "Were you talking to Jonecca?" I asked.

         "No. Why?"

         "Cause you didn't answer my call."

         Steph started looking for her phone and realized it had slid down between the seats and she never heard it ring.

         I walked over on my toes. "Will you look at my foot for me please?" I asked.

         "Sure, come on in."

         Steph got the needle, and the tweezers, and the alcohol, and I lay on my belly on the floor, and put my foot in her lap, and she looked and looked and looked! "Peg, I don't think there's anything in there. I think it's just the cut that's bothering you. Try soaking it in Epsom salts."

         Two people said Epsom salts, I was going to try Epsom salts.

         I thanked her for trying and limped out to the Jeep.

         "Do we have any Epsom salts?" Mike asked.

         "I think so."

         When we got home I opened the cabinet under the sink... and there was a bag of Epsom salts. I could see the top was open. It's been under there at least a year, maybe two or three! I reached in, snagged the top and pulled it out. It was rock hard! I looked inside and guess what! Some little mouse had decided to use the open bag as a pantry and there was a handful of Kentucky coffee tree seeds inside. We are finding those things all over the place!

         I laughed.

         And dumped the seeds out.

         I laid the rock-hard Epsom salts on its side, on the butcher block, held the top shut with my left hand, reached down under for the hammer that had been living there since my bracelet making days, and I hit the block of salt with it. It worked, but using the small face of the hammerhead didn't seem very efficient to me. I laid the hammer on its side and whacked it again. Now we're talkin! That was getting the job done! I whacked it again and again and ....

         "OWWW!" I screamed. "Dagnabbit!" I shook my hand, then grabbed my poor middle finger and applied pressure.

         "What?" Mike asked from the couch where he was watching TV.

         "I hit my finger!" I released my finger and looked at it. Blood was rising through the Band-Aid. "It's bleeding," I reported. I didn't have the nerve to take the Band-Aid off and see if I tore a stitch or just what happened. I shook my hand a few more times until the pain eased, then I drew a dish tub of hot water, poured some salt in and sat at the table to soak my foot.

         What a mess I am, I thought. After a bit I pulled the Band-Aid off and inspected the stitches. They were all still there but I'd added a new small cut on my knuckle and opened a bit of the original cut.

         Joanie texted me later that night. How's the fingers coming along?

         Great until I smacked it with the hammer, I told her.

         OMG! I DO need to put you in a bubble. Just for a few weeks until you recover!

         The next day my calf muscle was sore from walking on tiptoes all day. Late morning I put my shoes on and walked the dogs up around the property and that's when I realized my foot wasn't hurting anymore. I could walk normal! Yeah! Right! Now I had a hard time not walking on my toes! You ever want to teach someone to walk on their toes, just put a pin under their heel, I thought. Pain is a great motivator.

         Later, when I was barefoot again, I'd get the same stabbing pain. It didn't hurt when I had shoes on, it hurt when I was barefoot. Through the power of deductive reasoning, I'm guessing it was just tender and I'd been stepping on a little stone or something to cause the stabbing pain.

         Thursday was day ten. That's stitch removal day. Steph stopped on her way home, snipped, and pulled the stitches out. Last night my fingers were itchy but they're lookin good.

         How about some photos I've taken through the week.

        

         The moon over our place.

         A beetle on boneset.

                                        Teasel.

Burdock in bloom.

         A tiny little tree frog was on the burdock leaves and caught my attention as I was photographing the burdock flowers. I hardly ever see the tree frogs although I hear them all the time.

         I don't know. I'll look it up one day.

         I didn't realize the smartweed actually opened into flowers.

         Another shot of burdock flowers, on another day, and a bee with saddlebags full of pollen.

         Joe-pye is blooming.

         Something came up out of the ground. A leftover from what this place used to be, I guess.

  

  

      Little Miss Feisty sitting in one of the concrete leaves I'd made. She's my current desktop photo.

         They're working on our bridge again. They're welding new crossbeams under it.

         "Will that increase the weight limit?" Mike asked him.

         He shook his head and said, "Naw. It'll just keep it where it's at."

         After setting up the living room with the necessities, we'd pulled the old humpback chest out of storage. The bottom was loose and those stinkin' mice made nests in the old antique quilts. If you know anything about mice, you know they chew and they don't care where they go to the bathroom. Some critters are much neater and won't foul their nests, but obviously, mice have no such qualms!

         I took the quilts into the yard and thoroughly saturated the urine stains with water. There were two afghans in there and the urine just rinsed right out of those.

         There was a tablecloth in there too, and I thought I'd practice removing the stains on that before I tackled the antique quilts.

         I put it in the bathtub with hot water and a half-gallon of vinegar. A few times a day I'd agitate it. Nothing seemed to be happening, so the next day I let out all the cold water, refilled it with hot, another half-gallon of vinegar, and I added washing soda and a little laundry soap. And again, I'd go in several times a day and agitate it and rub the spots a little. After four days of repeating the process, the stains were lighter, and I'd had enough of fooling with it. I decided it wasn't going to get any better.

         I drained the water, transferred the tablecloth to the washer, and washed it on the gentle cycle.

         Two things were rattling around in my head.

         If the stains aren't out, don't put it in the dryer. That will set the stains.        That came from the internet.

         Don't discount the sun.

         That tidbit came from the beautiful and smart woman I call Momma.

         I hung the tablecloth on the clothesline and after a few days of sunshine, I have to hunt for the stains! They're almost completely gone.

         Encouraged, I put an antique quilt in the tub, and since I didn't want the colors to run, I used cold water.

         The colors ran. It don't matter though, it was ruined anyway. So on the next water change, I used hot water and vinegar. After a couple of days I washed it in the gentle cycle and it was still pretty bad.

         It's hanging on the clothesline as I write and we'll see if the sun improves it any.

         If anyone has any advice for me, I'm all ears.

        

         How about another sunset photo?

         And let's call this one done.