Hannah Rae's Blog, page 23

Why My Cat is Better Than Your Cat: Reason #814

Today I made salmon for dinner and ate it with a big salad. The salad was loaded with all sorts of other vegetables: carrots, mushrooms, black olives, tomatoes, garbanzo beans... There was some additional produce as well, but those are the important ingredients.

Harvey has a (bad) habit of needing to investigate my food. Sometimes, if the meal is appealing to him, he'll stick his little paw in there and try to swipe something. Although this behavior annoys me and I generally succeed in keeping my furry friend at bay, he was successful today.

You're likely not surprised to learn that a cat has a taste for salmon, right? What might surprise you, however, is that Harvey had zero interest in the salmon and instead ate a carrot and a huge piece of lettuce. It's one of the many, many reasons I love him.

Jerry Pentecost is the Man.

A cool thing happened over the weekend and that cool thing was this: Jerry Pentecost, drummer and washboard player for Old Crow Medicine Show, posted a selfie with The Way Back AND the artwork I sent him... and tagged me on Instagram. Fun, right?! Here's the story in a nutshell:

Months and months and months ago, I saw Old Crow at XL Live in Harrisburg with my trivia team. We got really close to the stage (the closest I've ever been -- except for that time I was on the stage at a Bella's Bartok show and the band had the audience sing happy birthday to me) and I threw a book up there for Old Crow.

Turns out, the band never got that book, and I know this because I communicated with both Jerry and Ketch about it. I somehow continued the conversation with Jerry, who is really kind in addition to being a phenomenal musician and hilarious stage presence, and he gave me an address where I could send another copy of the novel. He did warn me that he is not the reader in the group, though, and informed me that he recently had twins and doesn't have a lot of free time. Knowing this, I included a piece of art along with the book. (I think I called it Twin Crows, but I'm not positive about that...)

Then I waited.

I think bands don't check their fan mail all that often. I mean, just take a minute to consider how much touring they do. I sent that stuff before Thanksgiving and just this past weekend, Jerry got the book and the art and posted his selfie and it was just very cool and kind of him.

That's my story. Here are some pictures:

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Running Through the Words, 11

Eleven.

Although the pool has been open since Memorial Day Weekend, Sebastian waits a good two weeks before claiming one of the lap lanes and propelling himself through the cool, chlorinated water. It was Lucy who’d encouraged him to start swimming again—“In addition to taking care of everyone else, you need to take care of yourself,” she’d said. “Make time for something you enjoy.”—and so here he was, taking advantage of the sunny June morning and wondering if he should pick up food on his way to Bert’s.

Having been one of Lake Caywood High School’s star swimmers back in the day, Bas’s brain keeps an automatic tally of how many laps he’s swum. There’s no goal in mind, no distance he’s determined to reach, but when he hits a mile, he pauses in the shallow end and comes up for air, lifting his goggles and gasping for breath. When he’d jumped into the water half an hour ago, the pool had been primarily empty, but now teenagers on bikes and young mothers with toddlers occupy many of the available umbrellas. His eyes scan the vicinity, noticing a girl on the slide, a man cannonballing off the diving board, a little boy eating an ice cream cone… and then he hoists himself out of the pool, dries himself off, and heads back to his Jeep.

His shorts are still damp when he reaches Bert’s apartment, his skin tacky with sunscreen. He waves to Matilda, watering plants on her porch, and takes the back stairs two at a time. Then he raps twice on the glass door and slides it open, letting himself in. “It’s just me, B. Where are you? I brought lunch.” He sets the bag that he’s carrying on the coffee table and walks back the hallway, ears tuned for the sound of retching but hearing nothing out of the ordinary.

Bert is curled on his bed, dressed in loose sweatpants, a baggy hoodie, and thick socks. A navy beanie covers his bald head. “Hey,” he says, offering a weak smile. “I was just resting.”

“Are you cold?” Bas asks, instinctively reaching for a fleecy throw and tucking it around Bert even before he can offer a response. “You look cold. I brought ice cream, but maybe that’s not what you want right now. I can make you some tea or something…”

Bert snuggles further into his pillow and tucks the blanket under his chin. “Ice cream sounds good, actually. Did you get it from Scoops?”

“I sure did.”

“What flavors?”

“Raspberry, pistachio, coconut, coffee, and chocolate,” he answers, rattling off the assortment and noting each selection by way of a finger on his right hand.

“Five different flavors?” There’s excitement hidden in the quiet question.

He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for. Wanna try some of each?”

“Yeah. But don’t give me too much. I’m not that hungry.”

“Did you have a rough night?”

“Not really. Just kind of nauseous. I didn’t throw up or anything.”

“And Russo stayed with you?”

“Yeah. He only left about half an hour ago.”

“I can stay over tonight if you want. We can make prank calls and paint each other’s nails.”

Bas grins and Bert rolls his eyes. “You’re a dork,” he says. “Get the ice cream and bring it back here. I’ll try to find something for us to watch.” His hand snakes out from under the blanket and reaches for the television remote. Sebastian ducks out of the room and retrieves the ice cream from where he’d left it in the living room. It takes only a few minutes to fill two bowls with five colorful scoops, each slightly melted and deliciously creamy. He then grabs two spoons from the drawer and heads back to the bedroom, delivering a dish to his friend and flopping down beside him on the mattress.

“You smell like chlorine,” Bert notes, taking a whiff of Sebastian and following it up with a bite of pistachio. Through a mouthful of frozen cream, he asks, “Were you swimming?”

“Yep.”

“Indoor pool or outdoor pool?”

“Outdoor.”

“How far’d you go?”

“A mile. My arms’ll be sore tomorrow. It’s been a minute since I’ve swum that hard.”

“Fuck. That’s impressive. Lucy didn’t go with you?”

“Nah. She’s throwing pots today. She is the one who told me I oughta start exercising again, though. I guess she thinks I’m getting fat.” He glances down at his flat stomach before flashing a sheepish smile at his friend.

“I think,” Bert says, “she probably just wants you to work off some of your nervous energy.”

“What d’you mean?”

Bert guides another bite of ice cream into his mouth—this one coffee flavored—and goes on to explain, “Maybe ‘nervous energy’ is the wrong term. I don’t know. You’re just… doing a lot. For me, for Rex… even for Nol. I don’t wanna see you burn yourself out.”

Sebastian swirls his scoops of chocolate and coffee together, combining the flavors. “For Nol?” he confirms, obviously confused. “I’m not doing anything for Nol.”

“You’re letting her stay at the house again this weekend, aren’t you? That’s something.”

“It’s her house too, B. She used to live there.”

“That was over fifteen years ago!”

“Is there a statute of limitation that I don’t know about?”

“Yes!” Bert laughs. “There is!” And then, more seriously, he adds, “I mean, I totally get that she’s, like, the easiest houseguest ever… but you’re still going above and beyond for her. You’re definitely going above and beyond for me. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to, you know? I’m not your responsibility.”

“But you are my best friend.” He reaches over and rests a hand on Bert’s beanie-clad head, petting it affectionately. Although the boys never talk about it, his mind goes to the memory of that night on Lake Caywood University’s campus, right after The Bedsheet Ninjas stormed the stage and right before Flannel Lobster was offered the opportunity of a lifetime. He has no doubt that his actions that night resulted in what Bert truly believes to be Sebastian’s greatest friend move, but for some reason the instance has never been revisited. And it bothers him. Bas has often wished it was something Bert felt comfortable talking about because there are questions—Bas has so many questions—but he hasn’t any idea how to go about broaching the subject. The last thing he wants is to be unintentionally offensive.

“Best friend or not,” Bert says through a yawn, “just know that I don’t expect you to keep sacrificing things for me. Like tonight. You don’t need to stay with me; I will be fine. And if the band wants to tour, you should tour. I can find other people to stay over on nights when—”

“We don’t wanna go on tour again, B. Not without you. Finn doesn’t want to. Russo doesn’t want to. I don’t want to. But you know what I do want? I wanna crash here tonight. I wanna order a big greasy pizza and make milkshakes and maybe even split a beer while we watch some old stupid movie that we used to laugh at when we were in high school. But if you don’t want that…”

“I do,” Bert assures him. “I do want that. But I only want it if you want it too.”

“I want it too,” Bas says simply. He slips the empty bowl from his friend’s hand and eases himself off the bed, smiling down at Bert before disappearing to clean the dirty dishes and heading home to pack a few things for tonight. “Get some sleep, alright? I don’t want you napping later while we’re trying to watch Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.”

“I’ll try my best,” Bert promises.

“Which is all I can ask,” Bas concedes.

Trivia Recap: 2/16

The Players: Hannah (English teacher), Mary (English teacher), Darren (math professor), Ben (not a psychic), Alex (coffee shop owner), Brock (graphic design and web design aficionado), Danielle (bartender)

Hint of the Day: Pockets

Opening Category: Murder, She Wrote

Tonight started off in a peculiar fashion in that Ben was the first to arrive. This made him the one in charge of finding a table and getting seats. Ben has never been responsible for such a task before -- he always arrives right on time, never first -- and we were all flabbergasted. He did a great job, though! He brought chairs in from outside! Therefore, I think we should all take a moment and give praise to Ben. From afar, please give the boy a round of applause.

Round 1:

Darren knew the Murder, She Wrote question because he understood that Magnum PI did a crossover event with Jessica Fletcher. It was a solid start. Other things we got right were: This is a "Hot" One (this was a three-part question and we got all three parts, largely thanks to Darren who was the only one to know "Hot Rod Magazine"), Nonhuman TV Characters (Ben and Darren knew Knight Rider, but we did not know what KITT stood for), A Little Alliteration (it was "finger foods," not "handheld"), and Biochemistry 101.

Round 2:

Cover Songs was a little bit tough, but Ben recognized both "Eric Clapton" and "Fugees" as artists covering Bob Marley songs. Fortunately, Danielle knew the other song was by "Beyonce" and we not only got the answer, but earned the 2-point bonus AND our 5-point bonus points. Last Word, First Word was gotten by Mary ("Alexander the Great Dane"), Boxing Champs was figured out by Darren and Ben, Brock knew that Ben Affleck was in Dare Devil, and we all worked together to figure out that "Q and B" are the only two letters not used in any 2-letter state abbreviations.

It was around this time (a little before, honestly), that Brock offered me his pickle. And then a few minutes after that, Danielle came over to see if she could clear anything from our table and Darren was giving her his plate but asked if anyone wanted his pickle and I jumped on that because I love pickles! (Dill pickles, that is -- not sweet pickles.) As it turns out, Ben wanted half of Darren's pickle. Unfortunately, Ben (who is apparently not a germaphobe) is deathly afraid of my germs because he does NOT like to consume anything after I've touched it, apparently. I offered him half of my (Darren's) pickle, but he said it was at that point covered in my germs and he wasn't going to eat it. I am apparently a very filthy person..? Who knew. Anyway. This comes into play later.

Halftime:

We got 20/20. On the top, we had to identify the movies that had masked characters. On the bottom, it was something to do with politics. I went for another beer knowing that Ben and Darren would know all the answers. They did.

Before Round 3 began, I purchased a pickle for Ben and requested that Danielle make sure absolutely no one handle it. I said, "Could you please make sure it's in a very clean bowl because Ben is apparently very fearful of germs." I then walked over to our table and tapped his shoulder with my filthy-dirty hand and said, "Benjamin? I bought you a gift." And I presented him with a pickle. And, I mean, I think he appreciated it a little bit... even though he nearly flung half of the pickle onto the floor and just barely managed to save it by catching it in his bowl. [Insert eyeroll here.]

Round 3:

Darren and Ben knew the answer to Film Characters, Ben knew I Am An Explorer with impressive speed (James Cook), Mary knew more than one would expect about the Periodic Table and thanks to my eighth-grade science teacher, I remembered that AU is gold's symbol because one would yell, "Ay! You! Come back with my gold!" if someone was stealing his/her gold. Modern Authors was easy once we heard JD Robb (obviously, that's Nora Roberts) and Darren knew Native Americana was "Navajo."

6 - 4 - 2:

I forget the clue that went with this, but the answer was "William Shatner" and we got it right for 4 points.

Round 4:

Country Music Awards was fun because "Old Crow Medicine Crow" was one of the answers and we once made that our opening category when we won trivia but weren't going to be there the following week because The Educated Friends were going to see Old Crow Medicine Show instead of playing trivia. And then I reminded Adam (the DJ) of all that and he remembered and smiled. So that was fun. The other categories were mostly fine too: Can I Have a Beer? (Yes, you may... and it'll be a Sam Adams); 3 Clues, 1 Country (Alex called "Peru" right from the get-go); Dick Vitale (whom I originally thought was Dick the Tally, like that was his codename and he kept tallies on sports teams... but Ben set me straight), and TV Quotes (Ben remembered many, many things from Game of Thrones).

Somewhere around this point in time, Adam played a Blink 182 song and Ben and I had our standard Blink 182 conversation:

Hannah: Ugh. This band has the nasaliest voices.

Ben: But really only one of the singers is nasally. The other isn't that bad.

H: I think they're both bad. They're too nasally.

B: No, one's definitely better than the other.

[Everyone at the table is rolling their eyes by now.]

H: I just don't like this band.

B: No, me neither, but one singer is better than the other.

H: You know they have a record label or something called PooPooPeePee, right? Just because they wanted grown-ass men who were working for them to have to have serious conversations with corporate bigwigs and say things like "The guys in Blink are adamant about PooPooPeePee representing blah blah blah." I listened to that podcast Ben told us about. When he drove back from out west over the summer.

B: [Looking surprised, even though this is the fifth time I've shared this information with him] You listened to "60 Songs"?

H: Yeah.

B: Which ones?

H: Just the Blink 182 podcast.

B: I didn't listen to that one.

H: I know.

B: Were they nineties? They weren't two thousands?

H: Late nineties. Like, ninety-nine.

B: Yeah, that makes sense. When I was in college, I played Madden Football on PlayStation, you know, and they had a worse song than this. [Ben then proceeded to make his voice very nasally and sang part of the song, which we all remembered as being awful.]

Brock: Maybe we could just request that Adam not play anymore Blink 182, ever, so we never have to hear this conversation again.

***Ben and I will have this conversation forever, every time Blink 182 is played in our presence. And it will always be funny.

Final Category:

We wagered 12 points because we were in the lead and the question was something like, "Which person received an unprecedented FIVE most beautiful person awards in People Magazine?" The answer was Julia Roberts and I was the one who suggested it and my team liked my answer and we used it and we were the ONLY team to get it right, so that was fun. We won and got to choose next week's opening category, but much of the team has other plans next week so Mary and I went with Fahrenheit 451 the novel, not that new stupid movie that's all wrong.

I forgot to take a picture. Sorry. Here's what our scoresheet looked like:

A Brie(f) Post

Early this week, I had a dream in which my other mother Amy and I went on an adventure.

In the dream, I had watched a segment on the local news about a shop in northern Pennsylvania known as the Briehaha (which is funny because the brewery in Just Whistle is called the Brewhaha). The difference? The Briehaha specialized in brie cheese instead of brewed beer.

Amy loves a good brie, so we obviously drove to northern Pennsylvania (in the dream) and visited the shop. I found a tower of brie that stood about three feet high and cost $1000. I thought this seemed steep, but Amy encouraged me to buy it and share it with my coworkers. I said, "Hell, no! I refuse to spend $1000 on cheese just to share with my coworkers! That's insane!" I didn't buy the cheese and we went to a nice dress store instead, where we each bought a matching dress in teal that cost only $94.

Yesterday, in real life, Amy and I got together for sushi. She came to my house and had in tow a large wheel of brie. Turns out, she accidentally bought two and wondered if I could use the bonus brie next Saturday at the book club I'm having for Come and Go So Quickly. I can, definitely!

Weirdly, yesterday my dentist called because there was a cancellation and they could squeeze me in before the appointment I had to reschedule for April. (The dentist is very popular!) I took the appointment, obviously, and had my teeth cleaned this afternoon by -- wait for it -- Bre! Isn't that wild?

Three brie/Bre's in one week! What are the odds?!

I got a really nice card in the mail!

My mom recently gifted her friend Dawn a copy of my novel The Way Back and Dawn wasted very little time in reading it. The other day, I checked the mail and saw I had received a note from her.

Spoiler Alert: Her message does contain a comment about the book's ending, so if you haven't finished reading The Way Back yet, maybe you shouldn't read what Dawn sent to me.

Isn't that the nicest?! I love receiving feedback regarding my novels -- especially when it's positive! That's not to say I can't learn and improve from some constructive criticism, though! I appreciate that too (most of the time).

One of my students, whom I shall call Unique Spelling, is actually reading Just Whistle and she made it through a bunch of pages this past weekend. On Monday, Unique Spelling came into class and told me that she's really enjoying the novel, and that so much of what Charley says and does reminds her of me. I was flattered, of course, because I adore Charley! I also think almost every single one of my characters (with the exception of two: one in Just Whistle and one in Running Through the Words) has a lot in common with me... because, you know, I wrote them.

It does seem to be Charley and Jenny whom most folks tend to associate with me. I don't know that I feel like I connect to those two characters the most -- there are definitely some others I feel I have more in common with, both thought- and personality-wise -- but it's always fun to hear what readers think!

I can't wait to learn what Unique Spelling thinks of the end of the novel!

Grading Papers with Period Four

Generally speaking, grading papers isn't fun, but if there's one thing capable of making such a task enjoyable, it's stickers.

I much prefer grading things on paper to online documents. Not just because paper allows me to use stickers, but because paper also allows me to use colorful pens and write comments that my students will actually read. Plus, sometimes the kids include funny little doodles and I love that, you know? It shows me a side of them that isn't necessarily volunteered in class discussions.

Lately, my sophomores have been doing quite a few pencil-and-paper worksheets and it's been great fun for me because I recently stocked up on stickers at Rite-Aid.

As if these stickers weren't already fun enough, they proved to be majorly enjoyable while I graded a stack of A Raisin in the Sun worksheets both yesterday and today during fourth period.

The students in fourth period are working on creating a piece of scientific writing about capaill uisce. (If you don't know what these are, I can only assume that you've never read The Scorpio Races.) As they were designing their pamphlets/posters, I was reading about direct characterization of Mama, Beneatha, Walter, Ruth, and Travis. Each time a sophomore turned in a perfect paper, I added a sticker to the sheet, but before adding a sticker to the sheet, I'd pose a question to my freshmen. Here are some examples:

If someone came to the door right now and offered you a chocolate chip cookie or an ice cream sundae, which one would you choose? If someone came to the door right now and offered you a tomato or a pickle, which one would you choose? If someone came to the door right now and offered you a pineapple or a cinnamon roll, which would you choose? If someone came to the door right now and offered you pickles or eggs, which would you choose? If someone came to the door right now and offered you Swiss cheese or bacon, which would you choose? If someone came to the door right now and offered you tacos or a cupcake, which would you choose?

Yesterday, I learned these things:

Chocolate chip cookies are quite popular! The Smile prefers them to ice cream. Mr. Read Aloud, however, opted for ice cream, but only if it had peanuts. Turns out, he's allergic to other nuts (walnuts, pecans, and almonds). Pickles are well liked by my period-four students, and both Poseidon Jr. and Mr. Read Aloud are self-proclaimed "tomato haters." Mr. Read Aloud does like most vegetables, though... but he's never had chickpeas. Mr. Great-With-Accents loves chickpeas and Family Friend really enjoys hummus. Weirdly, Mr. Read Aloud has never had hummus so I'm thinking we may need to have a hummus party in class sometime soon. We'll see if any of the students read this and force me to follow through on that idea... Overall, period four is quite healthy in that nearly everyone playing the "If someone came to the door right now" game chose pineapple over a cinnamon roll. Poseidon Jr. did require that the pineapple be cut ahead of time, but I figured that was a reasonable request.

Today, I learned these things:

As much as period four likes pickles, they like eggs more! Wheezy Guffaw makes her own deviled eggs and they sound really delicious: she garnishes them with olives. Swiss cheese is almost as popular as bacon! Both Family Friend, Miss Basket, and I all voted for Swiss, along with a few other kids in the room. Tacos are overwhelmingly more popular than cupcakes, and True-Crime Lover then proceeded to show me all the food she ate while recently visiting Cozumel. She ate tacos (obviously, as that's what started the conversation) and quesadillas and mango soup and peach soup and a big tortilla with some sort of interesting something spread on top of it and a melting cake served with ice cream and very fat French toast that I'd never heard of or seen before!

Anyway. That's my story about grading. If ever my students are wondering about great Christmas or birthday gifts for me, stickers are a terrific option... as are chickpeas. And coffee, obviously. A girl needs a lot of coffee to make it through the day sometimes!

My Friend Annie

One of my very best friends in the whole wide world is named Annie and she says some really funny things... which is what today's blog is about. Here are three of my favorite Annie sayings:

September 2, 2022

On this day, while eating lunch at school, Annie and Mary and I were talking about Mela. If you've not been there and you live in the Gettysburg area, you REALLY must go because the food is phenomenal. I highly recommend the brussels sprouts if they're on the menu, the fried artichoke hearts, and the vegetarian smashburger. Yum!

Mela's wings are really delicious too, and I believe we were talking about Mela's wings because I commented on how Josh Fidler (that's the owner of Mela; we graduated from high school together) does something magical to his blue cheese because it's the best blue cheese around. Annie said, "Their blue cheese is obviously homemade. I could just roll around in it and play in it all day."

I love that quote so much that I actually used it in a book. I forget which one... but I think it might be Come and Go So Quickly. I do remember that I gave the quote to Lucy, but in reality, Annie said it. And isn't it such a wonderful quote? What a way to describe blue cheese!

November 22, 2022

Sometimes teaching is hard.

Sometimes, right before holiday breaks, teachers talk a lot about drinking. This past Thanksgiving was no exception and as Annie, Mary, and I discussed plans for our upcoming time away from school, we learned that Annie would be trying a new recipe. I forget exactly what it was, but it involved wine and vodka and maybe something fruity... and sparkling water, I believe. I vaguely remember it being a bubbly beverage. Anyway, in gearing up for the end of the day and going home to pour drinks, I believe the conversation went something like this:

Me: I'm definitely drinking wine tonight.

Mary: Me too.

Annie: I'm gonna put vodka in my wine.

That's a great quote, is it not? I love that lady so much!

Date Unknown

Last but not least... here's my favorite Annie saying:

I have a buddy who's real name is Nicole, but I call her Buddy and she calls me Buddy and it's really a wonderful thing that we do. Buddy is unique in a whole lot of ways, but one thing she does is make recipes in the order in which they appear in her cookbooks. And then, even if she LOVES the recipe and thinks it's the greatest thing ever, she can NEVER make it again. She once baked these delicious chocolate cookies and I asked if she'd make them again for my birthday some year and she said "No." Then I asked if she'd bake them again if I was dying and it was the only thing in the world that could save me and she said "No." But... we remain friends despite this.

Side note about Buddy: If you've ever read Like A Flip Turn (by me!) and met Axa Montague, she is based on Buddy.

Back to my story, though...

Buddy once made this chipped beef dip (I think that's what it was; I didn't eat any because I don't eat red meat) and Annie ate some and ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT. And then, to emphasize how much she loved it, Annie said, "Oh my gosh... I just want to rub it all over my thighs!" It is, hands down, the greatest thing Annie has ever said and as I type this now, years and years after the fact, I am laughing out loud!

Buddy, if you are reading this, maybe you could find that recipe and I could post it as a blog entry because now the people are undoubtedly going to want to know what a thigh-spreadable dip tastes like!

Running Through the Words, 10

Ten.

To be aware of oneself while coming into existence was unusual, but that’s exactly what happened to the house as it was “born.” One day, things suddenly began to occur. One day, it just felt important to take notice of the world.

It started with a hole, and that hole caused a stirring, and before too long, that stirring had become a full-on awareness. The house, in its own way, could see. And what it saw was mostly joy, with a smattering of heartbreak.

---

Spencer Henry

I weren’t lookin’ to move north, necessarily—least ways not so far north as Pennsylvania—but it sure is where I ended up. Ye see, down in Georgia, which is where I’m from, I made me a decent livin’ pickin’ peaches for ol’ Mr. Casper. Started when I was… oh, let’s say ten years old or so. He paid me right well. Always had a sorta soft spot for me, I guess, because as I got grown, he started teachin’ me extra things. I helped him to erect a barn once, which weren’t no small feat, and round about the time I turned nineteen or twenty, Mr. Casper, he told me I was the best damn worker he’d ever had in his employ. Told me, too, that he’d met with his lawyer and put it down on paper that his farm’d go to me once he were gone. See, I didn’t know it ‘til then, but ol’ Mr. Casper were dyin’ of the cancer. Sure, I knowed he coughed a lot and smoked more’n he probably should’ve… but I ain’t never really thought much about cancer ‘til then.

Now, I don’t wanna say I were happy about the news because I weren’t, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I weren’t eager ‘bout the prospect of ownin’ my own plot a land. Ye see, my family didn’t never have much. Growin’ up, my grandpappy were a slave for a fella by the name of Mr. Waylon Sikes. I knows you don’t usually hear ‘bout slave owners bein’ called decent, but Mr. Waylon treated my kin right well considerin’ the times. After the war, in fact, my grandpappy sharecropped for him… and then my daddy did the same. I woulda been tendin’ to the fields, too, if it weren’t for the day I passed Mr. Casper on the road that run by my family’s house. I’d walked into town for a ice cream with my youngest sister; it were her birthday and mama’d given us two nickels to spend on somethin’ sweet. Cassie choosed ice cream. Strawberry, if I’s rememberin’ right. Anyway… on our walk back from town, we come across a overturned cart and three bushels o’ peaches rollin’ round the ground. Mr. Casper, who’d I recognized just from knowin’ his farm were down the road a piece, were rubbin’ his temple and swearin’ a blue streak. Said his horse done got spooked for no reason at all and took off ziggin’ and zaggin’ for a long stretch. Didn’t stop ‘til the buggy she’d been pullin’ hit a rut and turned right over. So’s I says, “I sure is sorry to hear that, Mistuh Casper, sir,” and sets to helpin’ him collect his crop… which is bruised and dirty and not lookin’ real good at that point. Cassie, she try ‘n’ help too, but she only ‘bout six years old and’s more worried ‘bout eatin’ her ice cream cone than helpin’ a white man. So’s Mr. Casper and me, we clean up the mess and righten the buggy and I loads everything back onto it for him, talkin’ real sweet to the horse because she still lookin’ a little timid. And that’s when Mr. Casper says I’s a real good boy and he could use some good help over on his farm. Says he’ll pay me a respectable wage and to ask my daddy if it’d be alright.

‘Course, my daddy was skeptical at first, but he come ‘round to it ‘ventually and I started workin’ right down the road for Mr. Casper. That man, he done teached me a lot… Ain’t never woulda thought no white man could love a dark-skinned boy like his own, but Mr. Casper weren’t no normal fella. He showed it when he left the farm to me. And I woulda been happy to tend to his crops for the rest of my days if it hadn’t been for his daughter, Bonnie Claire, and her uppity husband Sterling Dixon. When theys find out Mr. Casper’s land been left to me, they faces turned ‘bout the same shade a purple as a pickled beet. “I ain’t tryin’ to cause no family upset,” I remembers sayin’ to the lawyer. “I knows it ain’t real conventional what Mr. Casper done, and if I’s not able to inherit the land, I’s got to accept that.” But the lawyer, he were one o’ those fellas saw things as real black ‘n’ white. I don’t mean black ‘n’ white in the way of skin color neither. I mean black ‘n’ white in the eyes of the law. And that lawyer—I wish I could remember his name because he were a real nice man—that lawyer say he’d uphold the law and make sure I were given the deed to Mr. Casper’s property, but he also say he worried about my safety if I done stay in Georgia and take care of Mr. Casper’s crops. And then he say that Mr. Casper been worried about Bonnie Claire’s husband and what he gone do when he found out, so’s there were a backup plan in place.

What I ain’t told you yet about Mr. Casper were his ability to up and disappear sometimes. Didn’t make no sense, really… but it never seemed magical neither. It’d just be sometimes when he’d go in the barn and I’d be lookin’ for him, wantin’ to ask a question about what he want me to work on next or whatever, he’d just be up and gone. And then he’d turn up a while later, jolly as always, tellin’ me I just didn’t look hard enough. That he’d been in the barn the whole time.

So’s when the lawyer mentions a plan number two, I be the first to say I weren’t real thrilled to learn it involved a check and a piece of wood. Now don’t get me wrong… the check weren’t nothin’ to sneeze at. The number wrote on it were a substantial chunk of cash. It’s just that I been lookin’ forward to ownin’ some land o’ my own. And the wood… The wood ain’t made a lick o’ sense. It weren’t big—couldn’t o’ been much bigger’n a book, really—and it had some funny symbol carved into it. Looked a bit like a door, but it weren’t real clear anymore. That wood was old. Real smooth, like it’d been handled by a thousand hands, and dark. Anyways… the lawyer tells me he don’t understand the wood neither, but that Mr. Casper give ‘im a message to be delivered to me if Bonnie Claire’s husband put his foot down ‘bout me gettin’ his father-in-law’s land. And the message was “Go north, use the money I left you ‘n’ buy some land, ‘n’ when you builds your home, be sure ‘n’ incorporate this piece of wood in the structure’s bones. It gonna protect you.” Didn’t make no sense to me, but I trusted Mr. Casper and figured it couldn’t hurt to listen to ‘im. I figured it couldn’t hurt to use that wood at the base of a doorway or somethin’. So I did.

It were a few years ‘til I settled down in Lake Caywood, but I guess I bought me this property in the mid- to late-nineteen twenties. Can’t remember the exact date. I just knows I wandered into town in the springtime, saw the way the sunshine hit the water and turned the fields golden with dew in the mornin’, and knew I’d found me a home.

There were a tiny shack on the land when I first come here and that’s where I lived for a while. Thanks to Mr. Casper, I gots money enough to pay for the land and get a start on plantin’ some crops, but it were a while ‘til I had the means to build the home I been picturin’ in my head. So’s I worked on the land first. I planted me some orchards and put in a garden… Mr. Casper, he done always organized his crops in alphabetical order. Don’t know why, but that’s what he done and that’s what he teached me. It seemed fittin’ for the apples to come ‘fore the apricots, and the peaches to come ‘fore the pears. Plus, it were my way of memorializin’ Mr. Casper. So’s that’s what I done.

‘Long about the time I started diggin’ the foundation for this ol’ farmhouse, a pretty woman wandered into my life. Went by the name of Zelda Tillman, but by the end of that year, she’d changed it to Zelda Henry. We wanted us a big family, but Zelda… she struggled. Took a few years ‘fore we found out she was pregnant. By then, the farmhouse were ‘bout finished and we were livin’ on the first floor. Ain’t had no runnin’ water or nothin’ like that, but it had good bones. And I done what Mr. Casper tol’ me to do: I nailed that piece o’ wood he done give me to one of the stairs. And then I cover it up with another board. Didn’t make no logical sense at the time, but I weren’t opposed to listenin’ to ‘im.

Zelda, her belly got so big ‘n’ so round! She glowed like summertime sunshine all through that pregnancy… We was excited to meet the little one growin’ inside her. I thought it were gonna be a boy and wanted to name him Preston. Zelda, she kept insistin’ it were a girl. Said she wanted to call her Willow if she were right.

As it turn out, we were both right. Twins! Neither one of us knowed o’ twins runnin’ in our families, but when the doctor come over on the day o’ delivery, he done pulled out two little chillun. They’s both supposed to be wailin’, but only one of ‘em was. Preston, he come out blue. The doc worked fast, cuttin’ the umbilical cord from around his throat and pattin’ ‘im hard on the back. It took a while, but he come around. Ain’t never quite right in the head, though. Willow, she gots enough brains for the both of ‘em, and she always so sweet about tendin’ for her brother. They’s thick as thieves, even though she need to be real patient ‘bout almost ever’thing. It just take Preston a lot longer to figure things out. He a good boy, though. Real kind.

Zelda and me, we didn’t try for no more kids after the twins. We was happy with two. But wouldn’t ya know, the universe had other plans. This time ‘round, her pregnancy weren’t easy. She been sick a lot and didn’t much care ‘bout leavin’ her bed. Said she felt hollow inside, which were a strange thing to say ‘bout a life growin’ in a person… but it made sense later ‘cause Zelda didn’t survive that pregnancy. Neither did the baby. The doctors tried they damnedest to save her—I rushed her to the hospital soon’s she collapsed on the bathroom floor that mornin’—but there was nothin’ to be done. That was a real hard time in my life. I don’t much care to think about it if I don’t hafta.

For a time, I thoughts ‘bout movin’ south with the twins, back to where my brothers and sisters still lived with theys families, but Preston were real attached to the orchard and Willow liked the town and her friends. Uprootin’ ‘em right then seemed wrong, so I ain’t done it. And that turned out to be a smart decision ‘cause I didn’t know it at the time, but Mr. Sterling McReynolds were lookin’ for me. Turns out, that piece o’ wood meant somethin’ to his wife and she weren’t thrilled ‘bout learnin’ it were gone. Cassie were the one to alert me to the news. Sent me a long letter sayin’ folks back home were sure hopin’ Mr. Sterling weren’t so invested in a ol’ piece o’ wood that he’d be willin’ to travel north. Explained that that ol’ piece o’ wood was somethin’ Mr. Casper picked up from a derelict itinerant floatin’ along the Chattahoochee. The story goes that Mr. Casper was down by the river waterin’ his horse and eatin’ his lunch when the fella, half-starved and dirty beyond belief, paddled over and ask if he might have a bite of his sandwich. “I do you one better,” Mr. Casper done said, and I can just see ‘im smilin’ in that happy-go-lucky way o’ his when he offered to take the fella back to his house for a hot meal and a hotter bath. Short of the clothes on his back, that itinerant had next to nothin’ to offer… but he did reach into his pocket and pull out an ol’ block o’ wood. “It got magic,” he done told Mr. Casper. “Got it from a gypsy a while back. S’posed to open things up where things ain’t s’posed to be. S’posed to make rooms that ain’t really there. You keep it. I ain’t someone who likes walls to begin with. You keep it.”

Bonnie Claire knowed the story ‘bout the wood. She also knowed her daddy had planted it in the barn all those years ago whens I helped him build it. And right around that time period, she also comed to know that her daddy done give that ol’ magic piece o’ hoodoo wood to me. And she wanted it back.

It must o’ been the nineteen forties when all that happened. Willow were a grown woman and not livin’ at home no more. She done met a man, got herself married, ‘n’ moved to a home of her own. Preston, he stayed wit’ me and helped ‘round the farm. ‘Til the day Mr. Sterling show up on our land, I ain’t never seen any sorta magic from that piece o’ wood Mr. Casper done give me, but it sure come in handy that day. I been standin’ in the kitchen when I heared an unfamiliar car bumpin’ up the lane. I ‘member ‘cause Preston just brung up a big ol’ basket o’ strawberry from the garden and he washin’ ‘em real good at the pump outside. “Preston!” I holler, goin’ out on the porch. “Come on in here, boy.” Don’t know what it was that told me to be wary… there was just a feelin’ I had. Somethin’ in the air.

“I ain’t done washin’ ‘em, Pa,” Preston had grumped, but he weren’t ever one to disobey a order. He done wiped his hands on his pants and got to his feet, leavin’ the berries behind and moseyin’ over to me. I ‘member puttin’ a hand on his shoulder and guidin’ him inside, tellin’ him not to worry ‘bout trackin’ mud into the house. “But Pa,” he started in, ‘n’ I shushed him.

I locked the door, o’ course, but it ain’t made no difference. Mr. Sterling ain’t even knock. He just barge in like he own the place, hollerin’ out that he lookin’ for me and he knowed I was there. Preston, he got real scared at that point. Looked right pale and started to tremble. “We okay,” I tell him. “We gonna be just fine.” And the reason I knowed it was because I suddenly seen a door that weren’t a door I built. And I ‘membered the story my sister Cassie done shared and thought o’ the wood Mr. Casper give me and I just knowed we was s’posed to enter that room. ‘Cause that room weren’t s’posed to be there.

We eased ourselfs inside real quiet-like, and I shuts the door so soft ain’t even a bat be able to hear it. Preston look ‘round, big-eyed and nervous, takin’ in the room he knowed ain’t s’posed to be there either. “Where we at, Pa?” he whisper, but I just put a finger over my lips ‘n’ let ‘im know we need to be quiet.

I seen that room many times now, but then… I be ‘bout as bewildered as Preston. The walls, they painted this real deep shade o’ purple. Kinda like a eggplant, or a black muscat grape. It were real tiny inside, but there were a round table and three chairs. A wild-patterned rug, too, and three skinny windows. Two o’ those windows, you could look right through ‘em to the garden below, but the third window… it were stained glass and it had a big ol’ fish on it. A catfish! And boy did that please Preston. That boy… he was always takin’ his fishin’ rod down to the pond and tryin’ to catch himself a catfish. He’d seen a real big one down there once or twice, but all he ever seemed to hook were bluegills, so’s lookin’ at that window with the blue and green catfish quieted him down right quick. The fact that Mr. Sterling was marchin’ through our house, searchin’ for a ol’ piece o’ wood and tearin’ things apart didn’t bother him none at all.

I ain’t knowed how long we was in there, but the fact Mr. Sterling didn’t have no luck in findin’ us only proved to ‘im that the wood was doin’ what it were meant to. He ain’t come back again after that, though. I knows what he’d o’ liked to do is ‘timidate me with the law, but ain’t no lawyer in his right mind gonna charge someone with stealin’ a piece o’ magic wood. He done realized that well enough, so’s I ‘magine he gone back home with his tail betwixt his legs, admittin’ defeat.

I be lyin’ if I say I weren’t livin’ each day with a touch o’ fear after that one, but for the most parts, Preston and me got a good life. We worked our land ‘n’ harvested our crops ‘n’ made a fine livin’ doin’ what we loved. Now ‘n’ again, the house’d show us a room we weren’t expectin’, but most times I knowed it as the home I built. Lived right here in it ‘til the fall o’ fifty-two, which is when I took myself a walk in the apple orchard and just never come home. Ain’t sure ‘xactly what it was done me in. I weren’t never one for the drink, and Mr. Casper’s demise sure done show me the evils o’ smokin’, but I can ‘member bein’ down there among the trees, munchin’ a apple warmed by the sun, when all the sudden a real sharp pain just sorta hit me. It knocked me flat. I landed on my back, ‘n’ first I was starin’ up at a real clear autumn sky… but then the view sorta shifted ‘n’ I was lookin’ down on myself. Lookin’ down on myself ‘n’ on my son, Preston, who come runnin’ when I stopped answerin’ his calls. That’s the part that hurt most, ye know. Not the pain o’ dyin’, but the pain o’ watchin’ the people I love as they grieved for me.

But… it ain’t all bad. I gots to see how they made out. Willow, she invite her brother to live with her and help tend the chillun. Got five of ‘em. Two of ‘em be twins. And Preston, he happy enough to go along with her. They’s right old now—older than any age I’s ever reached—but I see ‘em when they visit this ol’ farmhouse. It don’t happen often, but it do happen. When Charley ‘n’ her friends opened the Brewhaha a few years back, I spied Willow and Preston at the grand openin’. And when they’s walkin’ down that hall that lead to the catfish room? Well, I asked the house to show it to ‘em. Preston, he recognize it right away. And Willow… Well, I knowed she knowed the story. It meant somethin’ just then. It meant somethin’ to know they knowed I was still around.

I guess it weren’t ‘til after my death that folks start wonderin’ ‘bout the ol’ farmhouse. It weren’t ‘til I ain’t around to ask no more that folks start formulatin’ tricky questions.

---

When it came to understanding its ability to create rooms, the house had little understanding of its power. It just knew that if one of its people was in trouble, it had the ability to step in and offer assistance. And after a time, it also came to know that the rooms could be summoned for all sorts of reasons; those reasons weren’t limited to danger.

TopHouse is Top Notch

In a blog earlier this week, I mentioned that a lot of really good things had happened that day. One of the things was this: I was unable to purchase tickets for a concert I wanted to go to because the website wasn't working. After attempting to purchase tickets at several different times, via several different browsers, and on several different devices, I messaged the band through Instagram and asked if the show was sold out or if the website was just broken. About an hour later, I received a message from who I now know to be Joe, saying, "Hey! Hmm I am not sure.. but I'm just gonna add y'all to the guest list so you can get in free. "

Now, friends... I have been an honorary groupie of The Fat Handsome, a band I love love LOVED in college. I have so many stories about The Fat Handsome that I could write a series of blogs about them (they even performed at my house!)... but I won't. I have also taken a band home with me (Bella's Bartok) and then proceeded to host them every time they visited the area. I have met many musicians (I once bumped into the boys of Homegrown in Wal*Mart, weirdly enough), have corresponded and spent time with Aaron Barrett of Reel Big Fish fame (I understand the fame is not Taylor-Swift level, but RBF is my favorite band so hanging with Aaron, in my opinion, is infinitely cooler than hanging with Tay-Tay), and have been on a tour bus with both Reel Big Fish and Goldfinger (which sounds much cooler than it was). Do you know what I had never done before, though? Been on a band's guest list and gotten into a show for free. Thank you, TopHouse! That was very cool.

Before I go any further, I think it's important to summarize the reasons why you should purchase all of TopHouse's music immediately:

They are seriously the nicest guys. Of all the shows I've ever been to, their stage show is the funniest. And friends? I've seen Old Crow several times now... and Old Crow is hilarious. Truthfully, there's absolutely no reason that TopHouse shouldn't be touring with Old Crow and opening for them right now. They'd also make a great opener for Caamp and Trampled By Turtles. Gosh... Can you imagine that show? I'd travel great distances for Caamp, Trampled, and TopHouse! As musicians, they are PHENOMENAL. Seriously? Their live music sounds identical to their recorded music. It's beyond impressive.

Onward and forward. Here's a rundown of the evening:

I have an eye for musicians. I spotted William early on in the night, on the streets of DC. I said to Mary, "That guy's in the band." Then, when we got to the venue, there was Will playing hacky sack with Joe and Jesse. (Andy is also in the band, but he wasn't playing hacky sack.) I didn't know everyone's name at that point, but now I do, which is why I'm using them. Anyway, Mary and I introduced ourselves and thanked the guys for putting us on their guest list and then after talking to them for a couple minutes, we went inside.

The venue was called Pearl Street Warehouse and it was even smaller than the Chameleon Club! There was an upstairs with table and a downstairs with a few tables and a lot of room for dancing. The opening band was called Gooseberry and they were fun. The lead singer (Asa; he's a palindrome too!) was pretty amusing on stage and the bass guitarist looked like a young, semi-stoned version of my superintendent. I took a video and intend to share it with my superintendent the next time I bump into him.

Before Gooseberry played, Mary and I met up with Joe while he was in line at the bar and we talked to him about things for a little while. He likes to read, but hasn't read my book yet. This may seem like a random thing, but it's not because I actually sent TopHouse a copy of The Way Back. Joe has it on his TBR stack and has promised to get to it within about a month. He's also promised to post a selfie if he likes it; I'm hoping he does. I'm supposed to send him a message and make sure he completes this task because he did pinkie-swear it would be done... and one knows that if a pinkie-swear is broken, bad things happen. I always tell my students that if they break a pinkie-swear, their teeth will fall out, but that's a made up thing. (Joe, if you're reading this: Don't worry. I doubt you'll lose your teeth. But still... read the book. )

As fun as Gooseberry was, TopHouse's show was off-the-charts. You can just tell from their stage presence that they are humble and kind and educated and hilarious. They remind me of Flannel Lobster, which comes into play later... and is also probably the highest praise I can give a band.

Let's talk about the show, shall we?

The first thing that I loved was the way William moved. Many of you have read about my terrible terrier Arlo, yes? I mean, he gets his own blogs from time to time because he's an absolute handful. Two handfuls, really. Possibly more. Well, Arlo has this thing that he does when his back is being scratched. He likes to stand between a person's legs and lift his back legs, one at a time, like he's dancing. It's really ridiculous and it always makes me laugh. Like Arlo the Airedale, William lifts his legs while playing violin. I took a video so you could see:

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/58cc22_c9c85b1b41474b3495ab970b1d1a9375/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

Jesse gave the best introductions to the band's songs. He talked about homeschooling a lot, and his mom, and poked a lot of fun at Joe for always needing to tune his banjo. I lost count of the number of times Mary turned to me and said, "These guys are hilarious!" But they were -- and are -- and it was a little bit like attending a comedy show while also experiencing musical excellence.

Here's my favorite song that TopHouse performs. It's called "Chicago," not like the band, and I really love it:

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/58cc22_2568eaf25e554a3ca5dc86f759213ca3/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

Even if you've never listened to TopHouse before, if you own a television, you will probably recognize this next song. William's "Arlo legs" are really good here as well! (Andy gives some hilarious intros to songs too, but his are a bit more dismal. "This song's about a dead dog," he said at one point, essentially killing the vibe for about ten seconds. When he introduced this song, he described it as being about a man who died in a cabin, I believe... Andy's humor is quirky and off-the-wall.)

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/58cc22_460ce0fa6ace432c9928e4b848283628/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

And here's my other favorite song, "Sirens." This one always reminds me of Sebastian and Lucy, which is also a big compliment to TopHouse because Bas and Lucy are probably two of my three favorite people to think about (Bert being the third). I mean, of all the things I think about in a day, Bas and Lucy and Bert definitely receive the most attention.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/58cc22_ca56affa43324a9db74b20901eede68a/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

So after the show, Mary wanted to get a t-shirt and we both wanted to thank the band for putting us on the guest list and getting us in for free and for also putting on such an excellent performance. This meant we got to talk to Joe and Jesse for a bit, and we got some pictures, and while we were talking, I told them these things:

If/when Joe reads The Way Back, he will see that Flannel Lobster, my favorite band, essentially did for Jane what TopHouse did for us. Jesse appeared to love the band name Flannel Lobster (which I, in turn, loved) and wondered if maybe TopHouse is the real version of Flannel Lobster. I think this is possible. Both Joe and Bas play the guitar and the banjo. (Sebastian's banjo actually has a name, which you will learn when you purchase and read Running Through the Words on April 8.) Obviously, because I am not a musician, I have no idea what the actual melodies of Flannel Lobster's songs are, but I sure do know a lot of their lyrics and I could totally see Flannel Lobster sounding a lot like TopHouse. If/when that one person with all the connections finally realizes my talent and decides to turn my books into a Netflix series like Daisy Jones and the Six, I promised TopHouse that I'd pay it forward by putting in the contract that they must appear in at least an episode. Wouldn't that be the coolest? I mean, they may already be HUGE by then -- they deserve to be HUGER than HUGE by then -- but I think it would be so neat to be able to pay it forward like that. Here's hoping someone with sway and followers eventually realizes my worth and helps me out!

That was the night in a nutshell. If you've never checked out the band before, get on that right away, and if they come to a town near you, buy a ticket because they're worth every cent.