I just looked back at two or three of these ButtonDowns, and if I’m not mistaken, I managed to not complain about the awful hot weather we endured the past few weeks. Good for me, eh?

Late last week, it finally broke and it’s been gorgeous. And getting gorgeous-er, so much so that I just now closed a bunch of windows and put on heavy winter socks. My computer “task bar” says it is currently 57 degrees. I’m fine with that; I can always put on more clothes, right?

I decided a few weeks back that - because of my dementia - I’d keep a Word document with a running list of things to share in the next ButtonDown/Tinyletter. As of tonight, here’s the list:

Tall dog and my supper
Jett Williams
Lewy Body Dementia and Charles Schulz and me and Lucy and Perry Como (my first boyfriend)
Wolf spider in the dog dish
Junkie – office supplies, tools
Kitchen cabinet notes and fortunes
Yard guy fired
Uncle Freyher WWI to archives; Burlington NC connection
Penny collection
Petoskey stones
Dr. Bailey and Parnells and Hen Pecked Hill
Elderberry taffy – the Gregory State Tap during Prohibition candy store

So, as you may have guessed, this will be a rather long tinyletter. Let’s hope I can get through it without any more bourbon than what’s in the glass in front of me. (Although I must say, traditionally - the more bourbon, the funnier the tinyletters tend to be - at least to me. I’m always happy for your feedback.)

I can’t remember which of the taller dogs I was boarding, probably somebody new, because I left my uneaten supper plate on the counter momentarily and when I came back, the plate was empty. That’s never happened before, and I will henceforth be vigilant with new tall dogs!

When I lived on a houseboat in DC and worked at the National Theatre (built 1833, the same year as the NuWray Hotel!), I came home one day and there was this long, cool wooden boat docked at the end of my pier. It was probably the vintage of the Sequoia, the president’s yacht. Looked a lot like it but smaller. Very classy in any event. A day or two later, there was a big banner tied to it that said, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JETT!” Jett was the owner of the boat, and was a nice person. I think I told her happy birthday, but I’m not sure…this was probably in 1985-ish, and these days, I’m only good at remembering things that happened when I was a young ‘un. I found out much later that she is Hank Williams’ daughter, and was born after he died. She looked more like Hank Sr. than Hank Jr. does.

Lewy Body Dementia, etc. I did an online search to find names of famous people who have/had Lewy Body Dementia. Among them are/were Perry Como (my first boyfriend), and Charles Schulz (creator of the Peanuts cartoon strip). I’d learned years ago that Schulz started drawing Peanuts in 1952 (the year I was born), and patterned the character Lucy after his daughter Meredith (my middle name).

The wolf spider in the dog’s water dish out on the porch this morning lay motionless in the middle of the full dish, and I thought he might have drowned. I’d found out years ago after my Ex had killed a wolf spider in our Florida house that was freaking out an Up With People student who was staying with us. I swear it was as big as my outspread hand, and I was all about killing it. I think Ex accomplished that by bashing it repeatedly with a broom. It was only later that we found out that they subsisted on “palmetto bugs,” which are the biggest damn cockroaches either of us had ever seen. I’ve never killed a spider since. In fact, less than an hour ago, I saw one freaking out on the windowsill in the master (mistress?) bathroom and while closing the window to keep the cold air out, I left enough room for him to have the option of staying in or out. I try really hard not to kill insects willy-nilly like I used to.

I’m not sure why I had “Junkie - office supplies, tools” on the list. Maybe I meant to tell y’all to not buy any of that stuff until you’ve checked with me. I love office supplies, and more than that, I love tools. After Helene, I invited over a couple of friends who had lost everything. We went down to the shed and I told them to take what they needed, and they did. Bizarrely, when I look at the contents of the shed, I can’t think of anything I’d miss. Being a junkie is weird. I’m happy to loan tools to friends.

One of my kitchen cabinets has glass panels. Right after hurricane Helene, I’d put a sticky note on my front door that said, “Trying to make things as close to normal as possible. Thanks, LD” Some of you know what we’ve gone through - and are still going through, and will continue to go through for the rest of our lives. It’s pretty insane to even contemplate. Underneath that sticky note, I taped fortune cookie “fortunes” - which of course don’t predict anyone’s fortune, One one side, they have my “LUCKY NUMBERS” which of course I ignore, and this is what the other sides say: “A reunion with a loved one awaits you tonight.” (It’s past midnight; is he on his way?) “You will advance socially, without any special effort.” (I tell everyone I meet here that they owe me a drink; sometimes it works.) “Your greatest fortune is the large number of friends you have.” (Thank you all; it’s bizarre to remember that when I was a kid, I was so shy I would cross the street to avoid coming face to face with somebody I knew!) “Your health will improve in October.” (That’s just scary.)

Yard guy. Oy. We have an online community bulletin board here called the Celo List. It’s a fabulous resource to find something you need or want to give/sell, services, general information. Hard to describe, but a wonderful service (thank you, Robin!). I’d seen a post about someone who did yard work, so called and hired him to - biweekly -do what needs to be done. After walking around the property (all of it, not just the yards near the house), we agreed on a price, and he came back a couple days later to start in. Well … one of the very first things I showed him on the walk-through was a mullein plant, which is regarded by many as a weed, but is in fact a fabulous food source for pollinators. Guess what? Yup, on his first (and last!) trip here, he weed whacked it down. I was pissed, and texted him to let him know I’ve made other arrangements, so he didn’t need to come back. (I haven’t made other arrangements, but if any of you here in Yancey County have a recommendation, I’m listening.) I paid the fifty bucks he expected, even though he was on the property just a hair over an hour, not the two hours we’d talked about. Lesson learned.

A couple of years ago, I donated (with her permission) the letters my sister Bridget hand sent to me when she was on a Red Cross ship (USS Sanctuary) off the coast of Vietnam during that conflict. Well, when I was a kid, my mother would go to visit her sister a few miles away, and while she and my aunt were yakking in the kitchen, my aunt’s husband Freyher Williams, who was a WWI veteran, would show me his scrapbook. I really didn’t understand what he was talking about; I was young and he was old, but I knew I was to sit there and look and listen. Well, I’m not sure why or how, but sometime after my aunt died, I inherited Freyher’s scrapbook. I’d found out that he was born in Burlington, NC, which is where my late friend Ken Hoke was from. Ken and I visited Burlington a few years back, and with the help of a librarian there, located the house Freyher was born in. I contacted the War Letters Archive in California, where Bridget’s letters now reside, and asked if they’d be interested in some WWI postcards and photos. They said yes, so I am sifting through Uncle Freyher’s cards and sending off the ones that reflect best the sights a 24-year old soldier would have seen.

My father was an avid penny collector. He’d get all the pennies after the Sunday church collection, exchange them for other coins, and bring them home to add to his blue penny folders. I’d help him, and he gave me my own set of penny folders, and helped me build my own collection. Dad’s last contribution to my collection was in 1989. I’d left home in 1970, so he kept them up for me for almost 20 years. He died in January 2001, so I think that’s when they came to me. For some time, I’ve been tossing loose change into an un-topped Homeplace Beer Company can (the Faith Healer, which is my favorite beer can design by local artist Chad Fox). I don’t like beer, but I’ll hoist a Faith Healer once in a while. Anyway, I’ve been separating pennies from my other change lately so that I can “finish” the penny books Dad started for me. I’ll have to order new books for anything after 2008, so that’s on my To-Do list.

Petoskey stones: I’d heard about them - these are stones found on the Michigan side of Lake Michigan. I’d never seen one until today, when Winter (the big white dog I take care of sometimes) was picked up. His folks are from Michigan and they brought me a couple. They’re beautiful, and now I can stop wondering what the heck a “Petoskey stone” is!

Now, this is super interesting - at least to me. The house I live in was built in 1900 by William and Kittie Parnell. They also built just up the street another, smaller house. These are the oldest houses on the street, which is now named Summit Street, but used to be called Parnell Hill. Naturally, I would absolutely love for this street to regain its original name. So I reached out to Dr. Lloyd Bailey, a local historian who has a column in our weekly paper. His latest column was about Parnell Hill/Summit Street/Hen Pecked Hill. I asked him if he could tell me why and when Parnell Hill was changed to Summit Street. I think “Summit Street” is boring. We shall see.

Lastly, elderberry taffy. I bought was supposedly was elderberry jelly from a local farmer. Well . . . I can’t get it out of the jar. It set up so hard that I can’t even get a butter knife into it. But I don’t want it to go to waste, so as soon as I can recruit my neighbor Mary, I want us to scoop it out, butter our hands, and pull it into taffy.

I remember my Dad having us pull taffy when we were kids. Mom would melt sugar and I’m not sure what else and cook it until it was really thick. Then, somehow, it would end up in our hands, hot as hell, and Dad would coach us into pulling it until it was cool and hard and opaque. Then we’d snap it into smaller pieces and have treats when we deserved them.

Dad’s dad owned a tavern in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin. The family lived upstairs. When Prohibition closed the bars, Gregory’s State Tap became a candy shop. I’m trying to find out what it was called. Apparently, that’s where Dad learned to make taffy, and I plan to learn how as well. Somehow. When I have nothing else to do. Right?

And now I can start a new list for the next ButtonDown/Tinyletter….

Take care,

Lucy