Lightning

I found out that one of Grandpa Bob’s nicknames was “Lightning.” Not because he was especially dangerous or quick, or even because he had some kind of bizarre white streak in his hair, but because, apparently, when it came to work, he was extremely slow.

Cousin Karen told me she’d heard that when Grandpa worked at the Oliver Farm Equipment Company, which was located just a couple of blocks east of Grandma Ginny’s house in The Ville, he had quite a reputation for taking his own sweet time at work.

“They used to call his name over the intercom: ‘Lightning, bring those blueprints up to the front office’ — and you could hear them all the way down at Grandma’s house,” Karen said. “Then, 15 minutes later, you’d hear them say, ‘Lightning, bring those blueprints up to the front office!’ again!”

: )

Speaking of lightning: It is raining here, tonight, for the second Monday in a row. I love it!

: )

On the way to see the puppies Saturday, I noticed, again, all kinds of chicory growing along the highway. I told Delra I was going to have to take some pictures of it on our way home; she seemed less than thrilled, but what could she do? I was the one driving!



Then we got to the end of Aunt Janie’s lane, and to our left, we saw this glint of pink. I threw the car into park (it rolled just a little, giving Delar a bit of a scare) and scampered off to the top of the hill to see what kind of flower it was.

Turns out it is something called a Deptford pink.



I nearly fell as I was coming back down the hill. Debra wasn’t even looking.