dinner was fried chicken livers, fried cornbread, cooked cabbage, black eyed peas splashed with hot pepper vinegar, green beans, lemon ice box pie (oh, the joys of food consumed in the deep south!), all washed down with sweet iced tea (thank you katie, for putting that bug in my ear)
prolific poop factory, seen every morning on my walk through mama's neighborhood with walter
magnolia blossom - i picked two or three every early evening or morning to bring in as a gift from daddy to mama, through his daughter. for those of you who've not had the heady pleasure of drinking in its lemony scent, i hope you will have that privilege in your lifetime. they make me remember daddy with a fierce pining.
the road that led me home again; i'd spotted the black skies that were just ahead and thought i'd pull off the main road for a walter pit stop before the bottom fell out. i've passed this spot hundreds of times on my way back home, in northern georgia, but had never pulled over right here. the light in this beautiful spot was incredible, sunlight washed over everything in my immediate vicinity, thunder clouds hovering over the rest of my journey, and home.
bed, where i collapsed late last night. i've finally given in to instagram. not sure quite yet if i get what the big deal might be, but i'm willing to try. the artwork peeking out of my book is from my potter/painter friend julie whitmore, and makes a wonderful bookmark where i can see her sweet work every night.
i drove down to alabama the saturday before mother's day, which also happened to be the one year anniversary of daddy's passing. that sunday, the day of celebrating motherhood, it was just my mama and me, going to early service at her sweet little episcopal church (i wore a lavender frock), spending the afternoon lazing around her house savoring one another's company. she finally reached a point where she was ready to search for another canine companion, urged me to get online to see what i could turn up in the corgi world. look who i found:
doesn't she look worried?! callie is a four year old pembroke corgi, from a small country community outside of jasper, alabama - a three hour drive north from montgomery, where we drove on thursday to pick her up. i've tried (in vain, three times) to contact a blogging acquaintance who has a treasured cardigan, but never have heard back from her. anyone out there who is familiar with this breed, i'd love to hear from you. do they always look worried, like this? will she stop snapping and snarling at poor innocent walter, as time goes by? is there a chance that she might stop chewing with little pointed teeth on things that are not hers, such as walter's beloved grollie?! regardless, we love her; i love her for coming into my mother's life at this late date, for being there to keep her company. it was a wild week, full of dog preparation, long drives, appointments made, engagements kept. i stayed quite a few more days than i had anticipated, so that i could be there to help in any new-mother-way that i could. just look at this photo that i snapped a couple of nights before i left:
i want to call her callie mae. i think that is a lovely name for a southern gal, the mae being my contribution. she did come to us in the month of may, after all. here's what we've gleaned about corgis, or callie, in the few days we've spent with her: she loves to be around people, and is fond of meeting new folks. she is territorial about her food. she flopped down in pine straw and refused to get up, so i'm guessing she lived in a barn where there was hay. she pushes her food bowl around on the floor with her nose. she has grown to tolerate walter. thunderstorms terrify her (i've ordered a thunder shirt to send to my poor mother, for callie mae). she loves laps, and sofas. and treats. her bark, from the little we've heard, is firm and bold. here is what i never thought about, with a tailless dog: there is no tail wagging, ever. i think my mother will miss that; i know i will. we've not seen any displays of herding, but i'm sure that will surface, in time.
walter and i have finally made it back home again, where the rain settled in and refused to leave until this morning, 36 hours later. my four legged fella is thankful to be back in his domain, where no one protests anything that he does (within reason, i add). the threadbare tennis ball was quietly placed on the ottoman before me, yesterday morning, as i sat on the sofa and wrote some notes. dear walter. dear callie. dear mama. dear old longtime friends, dear south, dear life. xo