Pretty Women

Just yesterday, we (and by “we” I mean Mums, my sisters, and I) were sitting in Caribou as we always do on Tuesday mornings. Knitting our different projects, and sipping our different beverages, we enjoyed the woodsy atmosphere that only ‘Bou provides.

To our surprise, an elderly man stepped toward us with a smile and confidently said, “You have been voted the most beautiful table in Charlotte.” [well, thank you very much.] He continued to tell us about how much Charlotte is changing. [and the segue was...?] He said that his father started Central Church of G-d, and having grown up in Charlotte, he had seen the congregation grow from 22 people, to 10,000 people. [the man's practically famous!] He remembered a time when, from the Coliseum to Monroe, there was only one traffic light. [ah, the good ol' days .] Once he finished, he again stated that we were in fact the most beautiful table in Charlotte. [<blushes>] Then he left.

Gotta love those spontaneous compliments and conversations from random strangers at coffee shops. [yeah really! how often does that happen?] ;-) But, that’s not all… get this:

Not ten seconds later another man walked up, “My mother is 90 years old,” he said nostalgically. [haha, very funny.] He continued, describing the knitting experiences of his mother trying to teach his wife, and how knitting is a lost art. [wait, you were serious? wow.] He encouraged us to pass it on to the next generation, as it is “so good to see young people knitting.” [so true! hey your wife should come here to knit sometime.] We thanked him, and he too left.

Wow! I know, pretty unexpected, let me tell you. And of course, with HaShem, there is always a reason… [not really sure what it was yet, but we know it must have been something!]

It’s All About Us

We left Charlotte Thursday afternoon and headed north to spend the Fourth in a cool place and a cooler climate. I mean… with my grandparents at their estate in The Virginian, Bristol, VA.

My parents did a pretty good job containing their excitement at seeing all five of us leave, but we knew they were practically holding their collective breath until we were out the door, down the driveway, and on our way out of town.

The temperature was 95 degrees as we left Charlotte; an hour later it was 85. An hour later, 75. Since the drive is four hours north, I started to worry Bristol would be in the 50′s.

I suggested having a gluten-free oatmeal cookie for dinner, but that didn’t go over well with the passengers, so we were forced to stop along the way. Julianna insisted we couldn’t eat fast food. “No,” she said, “definitely not fast food. Something like Chick-fil-A, or Arby’s.”

We arrived pretty much on time. My grandparents were surprised to see us. “Wow,” they commented, “we didn’t expect you yet.” Last time we came the drive took about six hours. I don’t know why. Maybe we were going the speed limit or something.

In our initial conversation Thursday evening, we were encouraged to elope. Just saying. So if we ever do, everyone will know whose suggestion it was… Nana.

Interestingly, both of my grandparents have books in the making. As in, ones they are writing or planning to write. My grandfather has started his memoirs, cleverly titled “It’s All About Me,” purportedly containing the vast wisdom he has gleaned over the years.

Nana, on the other hand, is planning a fictional novel called “Lagoon,” to be a thinly veiled autobiography of her fascinating life and adventures; somewhat, I imagine, in the style of Nicole Ritchie and Lauren Conrad, although hopefully with a little more intrigue.

We can’t wait to read both.

Our first full day has been delightful. We visited “A Likely Yarn” in Abingdon, which didn’t remember us, and then the infamous 50-foot cliff in Holstein Dam, which did. The water level has changed so drastically since we were here last year that the cliff we jumped from (or rather, fell from – and it felt like a 10-story drop… speaking of which, anyone know the rate of free fall? 32 feet per second squared. Trivia courtesy of my brother.) is now a mere 15 feet from the lake, and the small island we climbed on is… gone. Only a few brave trees poke through the water.

Everytime we try to help around the house we are told firmly to stop. We know this will later be translated into, “We had to wait on them hand and foot…”

At this point in the early evening, Mary is reading a cosmology book that none of us really understand; Christine is writing thank you notes for the myriad of graduation gifts she received; Julianna is flipping through her London/Paris scrapbook; Peter is playing a diverse selection of contemporary piano pieces, and as usual I am observing the group.

(I included that paragraph for the sole purpose of using the word myriad.)

To close this post, I asked Pete if he knew a Pengal proverb that meant, “so far, so good.” He didn’t.

So instead, we’ll have to conclude with a most apropos statement.

Happy Birthday to Me!

The Waiter

by Julianna Squicciarini

Some of you heard the humorous and interesting story about Tim the Waiter at Maggiano’s Little Italy. How his excellent service, charm, and depth took us by surprise. How we vowed to return and request him, since he was so good.  It has recently [as in, yesterday] come to our attention that Tim the Waiter no longer serves the general public at Maggiano’s Little Italy. He is gone without a trace; he has vanished into thin air, never to be seen or heard of again. We don’t even have a last name…or a phone number…or <sob> an email address! And so ends our fascination with Tim the Waiter, sadly. At a depressingly dead end. We’re close to offering a reward…

Spontaneous Combustion

Julianna and I (have the last few posts *all* started with “Julianna and I”? We must do a lot together!) had our last horseback riding lesson yesterday. You have to picture this: there’s a specific dress code for these lessons, and it basically consists of jeans, a sweatshirt, and boots… as if we’re coming prepared to clean out the stalls. Pleasant thought there.

So we look like… farmers (no offense to farmers anywhere) or country people (certainly no offense to country people), and we’re driving up Providence Road toward 485, having our standard conversation (ex: “What are your feelings on the state of our economy, Julianna?” “Well, Morgan, if the President changes his economic stimulus plan as expected…” etc) when she says to me, “Hmm. My ‘check engine’ light is on. Do you think that’s a problem?” She pauses, and adds for fun, “Do you see any smoke?”

I just had to revel in the moment… a younger sister asking for advice, knowing of my considerable experience with cars, trusting my wisdom…

So I responded reassuringly, “ummm, I’m sure it’s fine” …and that, naturally, was the moment when her car abruptly died. We looked at each other in horror, and then together we watched the stoplight above us turn from red to green. There may… have been a very brief moment of panic. On my part. (Julianna is very unruffled when you least expect her to be.) The panic was followed by a calm certainty. “Someone is going to run into us,” I said confidently. “Your car is toast.”

The worst part was that we had to emerge from the car, in full view of the thousands of people driving by. I was in my favorite striped snow hat, with large white sunglasses that make me look either like an alien or an international celebrity, depending on who you ask, anxiously holding my phone (as if that would magically summon aid) and my exotic Himalayan bag.

Help arrived, first in the form of three heroic strangers who appeared out of nowhere to get her car off the road, next when Christine valiantly picked me up (yay! You are a lifesaver, Christine!), and finally when a brave tow truck came on the scene to rescue Julianna.

You know they say that problems are inevitable. (Especially with cars, which are more untrustworthy than computers, in my opinion.) But it’s the way you deal with adversity that defines who you are and what you’re made of. I was proud of Julianna – she’s levelheaded and responsible, even in the worst of times. It’s nice to have someone like her around when you’ve got a basket case like me!

Who Knows Where We’ll End Up?

Last Wednesday, Julianna and I headed out to attend the Charlotte Symphony Business Meeting. This was our first year of membership with the Charlotte Symphony. The meeting was to be held at Blumenthal, naturally, with a reception and subsequent rehearsal of Carmina Burana.

On our way to the business meeting, we stopped at Northlake Mall (exit 18 off Hwy 77)… which is not quite “on the way,” for those unfamiliar with the greater Charlotte area. As we walked toward the mall entrance, we were met by huge crowds of people exiting the premises. We discovered from one helpful woman that there was “some kind of scare,” and firemen were clearing the complex. Our highly colored imaginations surmised a bomb threat… which lent some excitement to the affair, as potentially dangerous elements oft times do.

After hovering nearby for a quarter hour or so, we went back to Northlake and found calm normality had returned. It was after completing our errand there that Julianna began to ask philosophical questions… not about our reason for existence, but our reason for going to the Charlotte Symphony business meeting.

Charmed by the atmosphere of this lovely summer evening and our elegant surroundings, we were inspired to skip the meeting entirely and dine at an establishment promising “Cucina Italiana,” called Bravo. We lingered over a delicius dinner of crisp Caesar salads and light penne pasta tossed with feta, spinach, and sundried tomatoes.

Conversation with Julianna and I, spiced as it is with humorous reminiscences of our childhood, most times leads to merriment and jocundity; however, this occasion was thoughtfully quiet as we spoke seriously of plans for the future. Sitting outside at this lovely resturant in the strange land of far North Charlotte, it felt a thousand miles away from the business meeting at Blumenthal and even our own home.

After leaving Bravo we strolled leisurely through Borders next door, observing the new releases and laughing over comedic biographical titles. The unplanned evening ended as we drove home… returning to reality, as it were. As we say, and take pleasure in proving, Squicciarini is synonymous with spontaneity (so long as it fits into our schedule).

A Tour Through the Town

Friday April 25

This morning we slept in late because of the fabulous concert last night… not to mention one of the funnest receptions afterward at Fuddruckers. We left the house at 9:00 sharp. The participants included: Allyn, Morgan, Julianna, Christine, and Mary. Aunt Stephanie, our special guest from New York, joined us on this beautiful morning.

We went to La Peep for brunch, and ordered some of the best ‘unleavened’ food on the menu. I think everyone agrees, it was fantastic! From omlettes to crepes, and breakfast banana splits… everything was superb! We spotted some friends in a cozy corner of the restaurant and chatted for a few moments until we had to leave.

Afterwards, we stopped in at Dazzle to browze around, and actually ended up with many purchases, including gifts, and even snacks. I convinced Morgan to pick up those ‘Sunny Seeds’… chocolate dipped sunflower seeds, which are surprisingly tasty (and addictive). I like to think of them as a very healthy treat!

After Dazzle, we headed over to Trader Joe’s, to pick up a few necessities for the weekend. We got some dried Apple Rings instead of our traditional Fuji Apples… they were out. Too bad, but I’m sure that these will be a favorite as well. Aunt Stephanie got some ‘thank you’ wine from North Carolina to show her appreciation to the people who watched her cat (and moved her car). She even got the little wine bag to go with it.

After Trader Joe’s, we left and went home through Matthews, stopping on the way to look in at the Peace of Yarn. Aunt Stephanie thought it charming, and had some great ideas about combining the library and the knitting lessons for a joint effort. Very cool stuff. After the long morning, we left and came home for a relaxing time around the house.