Peggy's Jibber-Jabber: Time Stops

Time stops for no man — or woman, and just because I got myself a little behind in my storytelling doesn't mean I can stop time and catch up, although I might want to — just for a little while.

And that reminds me of a book I read a hundred years ago. In a synopsis, it's about a young couple living together and so in love that whenever they touched, time stopped. They grew old in their little apartment and died in their bed. Eventually, their skeletons dried up and fell apart. Once they were no longer touching, time started again. The neighbors were dumbfounded with the discovery and told the police, "A young couple just moved in there a week ago!" A week passed for some, a lifetime for others.

It took me two weeks to write about one and in the meantime, time marches on. I have a bucket-load of new pictures to show you and new adventures to tell you about.

Monday when I went out to check the mail, I met the Kipps on the road. They were coming back from their walk with Maggie, their Bernese Mountain dog. I decided to walk with them a little ways and spotted these little yellow flowers all over the roadside.

"Are those dandelions?" I asked going over to check them out.

"No, the petals are different," Miss Rosie told me. "But I don't know what they are. There doesn't seem to be any leaves."

These, my dears, are the flowers of the Coltsfoot plant. The hoof-shaped leaf will come on after the flower is gone and this low-growing perennial is a member of the daisy family. Coltsfoot leaves can be made into a decoction (liquor) to treat upper respiratory problems such as cough and sore throat. The flowers can be made into a poultice to provide relief from skin problems such as sores, eczema, ulcers, and inflammations. Some parts of this plant can be mixed with other herbs and smoked to treat lung problems such as asthma, bronchitis, and whooping cough. Coltsfoot flowers and roots contain pyrrolizidine alkaloids, which can cause liver damage. The leaves contain a small amount of it too, but a large part of these alkaloids are destroyed in the boiling process and is safe to use in low doses. You need to be careful with this plant, even if you're buying it over the counter, or better yet, stay away from consuming it.

I've been growing my hair for three years now and had Mike take a picture so I could show you how long it's gotten.

It occurred to me that how long my hair has grown in three years is relative. If my hair was shoulder length when I started then this might not seem like so much. But I've worn my hair pretty short for a good part of 12 years. I went looking for a picture of me and stumbled on the pictures of when our daughter died. It made me sad. I never did find a picture. Then I saw a frame of pictures stuck behind my desk on the floor, and there I was, smack dab in the middle of them — with short hair. My Missouri gal Linda took this when we were out walking one day.

I used to have my hair cut every four to six weeks and the back was clipper-cut so it's even shorter than the top. And that's where I started from. My hair is about 14 inches long now and I'll tell you what! It's a pain in the patootie. There's long hair all over the place and Mike won't let me wash my hair in the shower.

"It'll wrap around the grinder pump and mess it up," he tells me.

I used to wash my hair in the shower before this no washing your hair in the shower edict was passed. We've got a drain wig in the shower and when I went to replace it, the chain snapped. Mike pulled the top off the drain and I got my grabbers out and went fishing. I'll tell you what! The clump of hair pulled from that shower drain looked like a small animal had crawled down there and died!

—And no, I did not take a picture for you.

"Why did you decide to grow your hair?" you ask.

I was tired of having my haircut, not only the frequency I had it cut to keep it looking nice but also the expense. And since I didn't have a job to go to anymore I decided to grow it for Locks Of Love.

"Just don't put it in a ponytail," our friend Margaret said to me. "I hate that."

Unfortunately, there isn't much you can do with long hair. Ponytail, braid, or bun — or let it loose which then it gets in your face and eyes and I ain't doin' that. So my hair is more often than not — ponytailed. But I have to tell you that it's getting to the point where I'm thinking about getting the clippers out and shaving it all off!

Speaking of birds...

LOL. Just kidding.

I told you I take my camera with me when I go out for the mail. One day as I was coming back, I caught the finches squabbling at the thistle feeder. I stood still and they ignored me. I took a bunch of pictures but I like this one best.

Speaking of birds, it must have been a wild night at the Luby feeders on Wednesday night. Thursday morning, as I stood at the sink drawing water for my first cup of coffee of the day, I looked out and saw two of my feeders were gone. I grabbed the binoculars from the shelf and spotted one of the feeders on the ground.

I couldn't see the other one which was a suet cage. It's green so maybe I just can't see it in the grass, I thought. When I went out I discovered it wasn't just camouflaged in the grass someplace, it was gone. Just gone! I walked all up and down the brush line and all around the yard in every direction and I can't find it anywhere. Maybe a coon carried it off, I thought.

"More likely a bear," both Mike and Miss Rosie said when I told them.

Birds on a wire. That was a movie you know, Bird on a Wire with Mel Gibson and Goldie Hawn.

And check out these little sparrows. They appear to be reading the sign posted above a birdhouse.

Mike and I were sitting in a parking lot, waiting for the clock shop to open, and I passed the time watching these guys outside a Birds Unlimited shop in our small town of Dallas this past week.

No, no, no. Don't worry. I didn't forget your road pictures, they're coming up. But I was highly entertained just watching all the birds coming and going, not only from the birdhouse but from the neon roof sign. They were busy carrying grasses and twigs in to make their nests.

After reading the sign, one of the sparrows went into the house while the other waited on top. In this picture, the one in the hole is getting ready to launch himself and once gone the other sparrow went into the house.

So I mentioned that Mike and I were sitting in a parking lot waiting for the clock shop to open, didn't I.

Mike hauled a couple of more boxes up from the way-back and guess what he found?

"Um.... more clocks?" you hazard a guess.

Yep. More clocks. These clocks are all of a nautical theme and the batteries were never removed so we took one to the Ye Olde Clock & Gift Shoppe to have it repaired.

Road pictures?

Why yes! I have a few.

Our first stop was to drop off the trash and recycling at Brown's, our garbage company.

One of these things does not belong. Can you find it?

They're putting a gas well in at the edge of the fairgrounds.

We'd gotten to the clock shop early before they'd opened and that's how I came to be sitting in the parking lot watching birds.

Inside the clock shop, Mike opened the clock to show them what happens when you put a clock into storage for 12 years without removing the battery.

"What is that?" the lady asked.

"I think it's just corrosion from the battery," Mike told her. "I don't think it'll hurt anything but the clock doesn't work. Do you think you can fix it?"

"We'll have to ask Tom."

I think Tom was the owner's name — forgive me if I'm wrong. But just about that time, Tom came wandering up.

"Tom, can you fix this clock?" she asked.

He came over and took a look. Seeing the corrosion Tom said, "That looks like a piece of art all its own." He'd noticed my camera hanging from around my neck and now he turned to me. "You should take a picture of that." So I did.

Then he inspected the clock with his expert eyes. "Oh yeah. I can fix that. $35. A couple of days. Melanie will give you a claim ticket." And he turned to walk away.

Well! If Tom thought he was going to get away from Mike that easy, he was sadly mistaken. Mike engaged him in conversation and before I knew it, Mike had gained access to areas normally off-limits to the general public. Tom was showing Mike his workroom with some really cool clocks. I was fascinated with the tools and old things and pieces and parts all over the benches. Everywhere I looked I saw the possibility of a beautiful picture. I hesitated to take any pictures until Tom, seeing the interest in my eyes said, "You should see this over here," and he pushed the door part way shut to reveal a shelf full of brass behind it.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed. "Can I take some pictures?"

He laughed. "Sure!"

I didn't want to be intrusive or take up a lot of the man's time trying to frame the perfect shot so I just fired off a few quick shots.

"I have to show you this," Tom said. "I think you'll appreciate it."

Mike and I followed him to the office where he pulled a matted photo from its place on a shelf.

"A photographer friend of ours took this one. He arranged all the pieces."

"It's beautiful," I told him and took a picture of it.

"By the way," Mike asked, "Is there a coin shop anywhere around here?"

Tom didn't hesitate. "Ochman's, right up the road."

"Up the road?"

"Yeah, just go past the Weis store and it's right there on the right," Tom explained.

"I'm not sure where that is," Mike said. "I'm not familiar with this area."

"Come on, I'll show you. You can see it from here." And the three of us paraded out the front door. "Right there," Tom pointed. "It's right on the other side of Weis. You'll see it."

"Thank you," Mike expressed his gratitude.

Now that we were outside, and Tom's truck was parked against the curb in front of the store, he remembered he had to finish unloading it. "Let me show you the newest member of our family." He reached in, pulled a pet crate toward him, opened the door, pulled out this little sweetie, and I melted into a puddle right there on the sidewalk.

"This is Ella. She's almost 10 weeks now and we've had her a week. I'm trying to bring her to work with me every day to get her used to it."

I assumed he was training her to be a shop dog but I didn't ask. I was too busy gushing over Ella. "You're such a pretty girl," I told her and stroked the soft fur of her head.

"Last week when we got her I took her in the tub with me. Then this morning she wanted to jump in the tub with me, so I gave her a bath," Tom told us, equally smitten with this little girl as I was.

We took our leave and headed for the coin shop. Tom was right; we didn't have any problem finding it.

Mike has a few coins he had some questions about and while he spoke with Joe, the gentleman behind the counter, I wandered, looking at rings, necklaces, bracelets, and watches. There was another lady there helping another customer, and Joe interrupted her a couple of times asking her things Mike had asked him. She's obviously the brains of the operation, a manager maybe, I'm thinking. Mike was sitting on a stool at the counter and I stood beside him while he picked Joe's brain. I watched as the lady was grading a bag full of old jewelry for her customer. Some of the earrings she tossed back in the bag almost as quick as she pulled them out. She could tell they weren't worth anything just by looking at them. A few times she put some fluid on a black square and rubbed an earring across it. Sometimes they went back in the bag and sometimes they went into a little pile. She finished, gathered her pile together, took some cash from the register and gave it to him. She knew his name, he must come in often. He said something about the money going to the church and I wondered if it was jewelry donated for a church sale. When he left the store, she joined the conversation with Mike and Joe. I stood by, thinking maybe I could get a quote for my Humans page and when she walked away from the guys, I engaged her in conversation.

"Is this your store?" I asked.

"No. It belongs to my mother but I run it for her."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Maryann."

"Maryann," I repeated and handed her one of my cards. "I do a blog and I wondered if maybe I could get a quote and picture for my page."

"Oh I look terrible."

"You do not!" I honestly told her.

"I do. You know I didn't do my hair yet or anything." Maryann reached up and fluffed her hair. "How about Joe, he's a better-looking guy."

"Next time we come down." I thought she was more interesting. "What I'm looking for is some little gem that you're going to give me, you know?" I have no idea why I phrased it that way. I don't think I ever did before.

"Okay... you mean a gem of information or a gem like a gemstone. I have no problem giving you a gemstone."

I was so surprised at this turn in the conversation I could do little more than laugh. Maryann opened the door behind her and disappeared for a minute.

What she had just said ran through my mind. I could see it on my page already. "A gem like a gemstone?" I imagined. That would be a perfect quote for my blog," I called into the open doorway.

When Maryann came back she put several gemstones on the counter. "Which one do you want?" she offered.

I only had eyes for one of them. "Has to be purple," I told her and tugged my purple shirt.

"Oh yeah. It was meant to be."

I picked up the pretty purple crystal and Maryann reached to take it from me. "You want me to put that in bubble wrap for ya?"

I surrendered it. "Sure."

She wrapped it in bubble wrap and handed it back to me. "There you go."

"You are so sweet and that's so very kind of you," I told her. "Thank you so much!"

"We'll stop the next time we're in town," Mike told her and we left.

"Should we head over to Sam's Club?" Mike asked once we were back in the Jeep.

"Okay but I want to have lunch before we go shopping."

Mike put Sam's Club in our GPS, (the Chinese restaurant was right next door) and we followed the route she mapped out for us. We headed into Scranton to get on the highway. I was on roads I've seldom been on. I almost said roads I've never been on but I don't know that that's true. Mike and I've been to Scranton a few times so I very well could have been on these roads, I just don't remember them.

How about a few cityscapes?

"There's a lot of trash on the roads down here," I noticed.

"There's more people down here to throw trash out on the road," Mike replied.

A cow on a skateboard for their logo.

"It doesn't look like it's open," I told Mike. The parking lot of the Teppanyaki Grill & Buffet was strangely empty. We cruised past the door and I snapped a picture so I could read the hours. It should have been open at 11 and it was 11:30 according to the dash clock.

"How about a hot dog at Sam's?" Mike asked.

"Fine by me. I like their hot dogs."

We had lunch, did our shopping, and headed for home.

At home, Mike hung the brass nautical clocks and barometer on the living room side of the post.

"Is that okay?" he asked.

"Absolutely!" I told him. "It's our house and no one else has to like it."

Now here's something you don't see in everyone's living room. Mike hauled our reproduction gas pump out of the way-back this week, cleaned it all up, found it a home by his desk, and plugged it in.

"Is it okay If I put it there?" Mike asked me.

Again, and a million times again, "Absolutely! It's our house and no one else has to like it."

We actually hit the 70's this week. I hooked up Ginger and took her for a walk. Mike was on the patio when I walked out the driveway and he called Rascal back so he wouldn't follow me. It was such a beautiful day.

When I got to the Kipps' house I saw they weren't home. I walked down to check out the apple tree the beaver had started to cut down but it doesn't look there's been any activity since last fall. We walked down to the creek and I let Ginger wade in and get a drink.

I thought the water was just over the beaver dam but it's more than that. The dam is in total disrepair.

"If you look up the creek a little ways you'll see his new dam," Lamar Kipp told me later.

I made it a point to get a picture of our single lane open grate bridge. There are plans in the works to replace it in the next two years and you know what we'll get then don't you? One of those ugly old concrete ones with no character.

I'm not sure where this Chevy hubcap came from but there it is, decorating the end of our bridge.

Ginger and I crossed the bridge. There's just enough pieces along the edges without grate in them that Ginger can cross the bridge on her own.

On the bridge, looking downstream I see the beaver started gnawing on a couple of other trees.

I scanned the roadside as I walked but didn't find any flowers other than the Coltsfoot. The lilac bushes have buds on them so it won't be long until they bloom. I love the lilacs — and the butterflies and bees its wonderful fragrance calls in.

A truck with a trailer was coming down the road towards us. I was trying to wrangle Ginger in when my phone rang. It was Mike. I swiped the answer icon but didn't put the phone to my ear. Instead, I held it in my hand as I talked loud enough that I hoped he'd hear me. "Wait a minute. There's a truck coming and I have to get Ginger off the road." Once the truck passed and all were safe, I put the phone to my ear. Mike was already talking. "What?"

"Where ya at? The Kipps or the other way?"

"The Kipps, just past the bridge."

"Alright," and he hung up.

I thought he was going to walk down and join us for a walk on this beautiful warm day since he'd been talking about doing just that. I headed back toward our house excepting to see him any minute. Back across the bridge I went, around the curve, up the slight hill, and I could see my house but no Mike.

What in the world? I wondered.