COFFEEHOUSE CHATTER ~ MOLLY AND LYDIA

A series of essays.....

'THE CASE OF THE MYSTERIOUS NEIGHBORS'
MOLLY AND LYDIA

Courtesy of U of M Medical Center

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

From time to time, our neighborhood friends meet at the corner coffeehouse to relax, sip their favorite brew or concoction, and warm-up their hands and hearts...together!

Some might think of their meeting as a 'cleansing or purification of the soul.' Even though they may share similar backgrounds and values, their ideas and opinions are as diverse as the weather outside of the little shop.

Let's grab a cup of our own, take a comfortable seat, and sit back and listen to what today's chapter of 'Coffeehouse Chatter' has to offer....

                     Courtesy of New Perspectives
                 

Molly and Lydia have been friends since Lydia moved into the neighborhood, several houses down the block from Molly, nearly five years ago. They are young grandmothers who share their love for their families and take pride in their adorable grandchildren. Each Wednesday morning, rain or shine, they meet and walk to the corner coffeehouse to catch-up on activities from the past week. These ladies wouldn't miss their Wednesday mornings for anything in the world!

MOLLY: (Walking up the steps as Lydia emerges from her front door) Grab your umbrella, Sweetheart.....it's going to be a rough morning!

LYDIA: What? Oh, my goodness! Hold on just a second. (A moment later) There, let it pour. I am equipped for beast and foul weather. Bring them on!

MOLLY: No doubt. That thing is enormous, Lydia!

LYDIA: I know. It's Fred's golfing umbrella and the first one I grabbed from the stand. 

MOLLY: Well, let's hope you don't have to open it because, with a proper gust of wind, it could become airborne and lift your tiny little self straight up just like a scene out of Mary Poppins. 

LYDIA: Oh, Molly. Let's just pick-up the pace and beat the rain, shall we? I'm not in the mood to feign an excuse for looking like a drowned rat this morning. Besides, I have so much to tell you I can hardly contain myself.

(Five minutes later they walk into their local coffeehouse)

LYDIA: Let's find a table first so that I can unload this cumbersome umbrella before we order. If Fred ever had to use this thing on the golf course, I swear he could fit the entire foursome under it.

MOLLY: You find a table and I'll go place our order. A croissant for you this morning?

LYDIA: Mais oui. Please ask if they still have their delicious fig jam, won't you?

MOLLY: (Seating herself near her friend on the cushioned banquette) There. Cathy said she'd bring our order out as soon as it's up. Now....you get to go first. I am dying to hear your story. You seem quite anxious about it, Lyds.

LYDIA: I think the neighbors across the street from me have murdered someone!!!

MOLLY: What on earth are you talking about?

LYDIA: Maybe more than just one someone. More like several people, by the looks of it, with so many trips made out to the car over the past few weeks. Get that silly look off of your face, Molly. Fred thinks I'm crazy, too. He believes, or hopes, it's just my writer's vivid imagination kicking in and making me come up with my conclusion of murder and mayhem. 

MOLLY: Well, I conclude that Fred is right. You must be crazy!!

LYDIA: I admit that it sounds crazy, at least. I'm just trying to come up with my own explanation for their strange actions. I apologize for not mentioning anything to you about this sooner.

MOLLY: (Chuckling) I'll be the first to profess that I don't know Tom and Jenny all that well. But, unless you tell me what evidence you're basing this interesting claim on, I will continue to believe you are as loony as they come. Love you. Mean it.

LYDIA: (Smiling) Hold that thought, my friend. Here comes Cathy with our goodies. Ah...thank you, Cathy. You did have the fig jam today. Perfect!

MOLLY: Thank you, Cathy. (Diving into her oversized cup of frothy cappuccino with delight) Now that I can think straight again, I want to hear all about your story. God, that jam does look good, by the way!

LYDIA: Here. Take some. It always reminds me of being in Provence in early autumn.

MOLLY: Don't change the subject. Spill the beans, Missy!

LYDIA: Okay. First of all, standard disclaimer, I never thought I'd be looking out my window spying on my neighbors and drawing conclusions about their activities. Having said that, for several weeks now I've charted their strange, repetitious behavior and it has sparked my curiosity.

MOLLY: Like what activities? Oh, Lord, she's getting me hooked, isn't she?

LYDIA: Oh, stop it! Well, Jenny will get into their SUV and Tom will come out with a large, soft-sided cooler on wheels and place it in the back of the car. The blue bag appears to be quite heavy because he has to pick it up with both hands to hoist it up into the back. 

MOLLY: Simple explanation. No big deal. They love to go on picnics. Probably have several bottles of good Rhone Rosé in there besides all of the edible delights. I have heard that Jenny has taken French cooking lessons while living in Lyon a few years ago.

LYDIA: Well, you might think so, however, when they return home each time, the bag seems just as heavy and cumbersome as when they left a few hours before. I will admit, I can't quite figure that one out yet. If they are taking body parts out in the cooler it should be lighter when they return. But, Tom struggles to lift it out from the back, just the same.

MOLLY: You can't be serious, Lyds. Are you serious?

LYDIA: Do I think they murdered someone? No. It's just that this has gone on every weekend now for weeks. Sometimes twice a day, too. My curiosity is piqued and I swear Tom's eyes shift back and forth as he's loading the cooler into the car as if he can feel my eyes boring a hole straight through him.

MOLLY: That's simply your own guilt haunting you for being so nosy. 

(She shifts her weight on the banquette and stares at her friend) Have you thought of going over to ask them outright if a rich, old aunt has come up missing within the past few weeks? Maybe you should ask if they're growing medical marijuana as a side business and selling it on the open market. You might be eligible for a share of the profits if you promise to keep hushed about it. It's possible that they're selling priceless stolen artifacts they've acquired during their many trips around the world in the black market. They use the weekends to distribute the goods and collect the money from the sales in large sums of cash....

Then, of course, there's always my picnic idea.

LYDIA: Oh, Molly! I love it when I get you going like this. You come up with some amazing storyline ideas for me when I place scenarios out there for you to ponder. 

MOLLY: (With her voice raised) So, you're just using me again for ideas? I fall for it every time, don't I? 

LYDIA: Sorry, but seeing Tom and Jenny lug that huge cooler around for weeks coincided with a story I'm writing for 'True Detective' magazine this month. You've given me some interesting plot lines.

MOLLY: (Sipping the dregs of her coffee) Okay, smarty, but have you any earthly idea as to why the cooler lugging, the shifty eyes, and the consistency of their actions across the street from you happen? Or, did you make all of that up just to solicit ideas from me?

LYDIA: (Chuckling to herself) Oh, that part is true enough. I've already asked Jenny what's up. She told me she'd mentioned to Tom that they must look very suspicious each time they leave with the cooler in the car; leaving the house with more body parts to dump. Simply, they had no choice in this summer's heat but to bring oversized ice packs in the cooler every time they went out on a Halo Top run. They didn't want the pints of ice cream to melt before they made it back home. Often they couldn't find the flavors they wanted so, they had to run from store to store all over town until they did.

MOLLY: (Laughing out loud) All of that for Halo Top ice cream? You've got to be kidding me!

LYDIA: Yep! All for the love of ice cream. It is extremely good and almost guilt free. My favorite is Caramel Macchiato, of course!

(Both friends laugh out loud until tears begin to cloud their vision)

(The skies have opened-up outside and promise to saturate the little corner of their world for quite a while longer)

MOLLY: (Calming down a little) I'd ask you to open up that enormous umbrella of yours and walk me home except it's much too nasty outside right now. I suggest we enjoy a second coffee and wait it out.

LYDIA: Sounds like a good plan to me! Besides, I've taken up most of our time with my little story. Now it's your turn...

MOLLY: Exactly what this morning is all about. Another cappuccino, an espresso, two buttery croissants, and fig jam coming right up. I really enjoy our Wednesday mornings together!

LYDIA: I do, too!

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

HMM....THE POSSIBILITIES OF HOPE!

 A series of essays.....

 ~ HOPE, DREAMS AND INFINITE POSSIBILITIES!~

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

After living on God's wondrous Earth for several years, you occasionally find yourself attempting to explain the phenomenon of life to those you meet along its uneven, cobblestone pathway. Sometimes you feel quite comfortable because your audience is interested in your apparent 'words of wisdom.' For example, your grandchildren. There are times when your listeners are tough customers and wish to ignore the layers of experience and the excellent examples you have to offer. Your own children, perhaps? Then, there's always going to be that one student in life whom you'll find difficult to teach, challenging to understand, and often makes you question your trust in them. That person is....yourself.

As a woman, I sometimes question how I survived high school in the sixties, attended college, became a wife and mother, enjoyed close friendships along the way, and still made time to plan and dream? The answer is, hope. My conclusion is that we're nothing without it, even though some of us may think we've lost it along the way, somewhere deep between the dusty cobblestones, it's there. We just have to look for it.

Hope. It is a very hushed sounding 'four letter word' with an archaic ring to it, used to impart an old fashioned flavor of a much earlier, now distant, time in our life. 

On the contrary, dear friends. Every day of our life we utilize our options of hope in ways we don't even consider significant as in the thought that the traditional male role of breadwinner is no longer relevant within today's social norms. Our hopes and dreams may fluctuate with our current age and lifestyle to a certain degree, however, they should always remain very much alive and well. 

You see, if we lose all hope, if we deny the fact that we continue to dream, if we misplace the longing or desire for something accompanied by the belief in the possibility of its occurrence, we become lost souls. I know we continue to hope right up until the moment we pass from this world and into the next as I recall my father's smiling face upon seeing his four children together, by his hospital bedside, after so many years of separation. I believe his last desire, his final hope, was to see our faces, side by side, once again. He passed away a few short hours later.

~TOTALITY~

Hope came rushing out from the television screen like a colorful waterfall during a spring thaw as thousands of people observed 'totality' during the eclipse this past Monday. It was a spiritual experience that many found difficult to deny. Loved ones were held tightly and the expression of awe on people's faces was followed by tears of joy and delight as they were, collectively, exposed to the miracle of the universe we inhabit. My hope was that we were all capable of pocketing this marvel of the cosmos for future reference and continue on a daily basis to learn important lessons from the experience. Only time will tell.

Yet, even with the strength of knowledge, amazing life experiences, and pledges to see the value of our hopes and dreams take us far into the future, we, as students of life, can fail to see how relevant we are as individuals within the grand scheme of things. As I said before, there's always going to be that one student whom you'll always find difficult to teach. The reality is that if we don't believe in ourselves, life can become futile. Even when others see our potential, we may not accept this truth and become lost for a very long time. 

Am I good enough, strong enough, smart enough to compete in this world for everything I want to achieve? Well, that novel won't be published until it is completed. Those extra pounds won't disappear all by themselves. And, you'll never work at the job of your dreams if you can't figure out what it takes to get there. Even tiny miracles need a strong push in the right direction every now and then! 

One thing we can and should always understand and teach ourselves is how important it is to help each other; be there for one another, whether it's to help feed the underprivileged or hold a hand during a time of crisis. You will never know if or when the tables are turned and you may need to feel the solidness of a good friend or even a stranger in your own life. There is no room in this world for pure selfishness, the denial of basic human rights, or the contention that some of us are even, remotely, superior to others. 

As time continues to layer my world with plans for retirement, dreams of making the world a better place in which to live and love, and ideas for opening up new opportunities and possibilities to ponder along the way.....I cling to hope as my lesson well learned. 

NEVER GIVE UP;
NEVER GIVE IN......!

Hope is fragile. Hope can be very personal. There is always Hope! It can help bring communities and even great nations together once again. This is, precisely, my hope as I write this today. And, as my mid-life dream involves a good, healthy life for my husband and me, my children and their children, my compassion for others and satisfaction for a life well lived revolves around the Hope of even Greater Things to come, as individuals and as a nation. Fingers crossed!

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

HEATHER.....AN ANGEL IN DARK TIMES

 A series of essays.....

~MICHAEL CAVNA TELLS US THAT HEATHER'S FAVORITE COLOR WAS VIOLET~
A SIMPLE NOTE THAT OFFERS A PRIVATE LOOK INTO
THE LIFE OF HEATHER HEYER

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I've noticed that each time I connect with my Facebook Timeline and scroll down reading everything I can, an interesting thing happens that I have absolutely no control over. You may have experienced this, as well. 

At first, I am concentrating so diligently on each post that I'm oblivious to it. Then the broiling inner emotions make me feel physically ill and I can feel my facial expressions taking on an unusual life of their own. It takes me a while to even begin to understand what's going on. But, when I do, I can feel my face twisting and contorting, my lips begin to pucker and purse, and my eyes crinkle and squint as my forehead wrinkles like the loose skin of a wrinkly Pug puppy. 

~WRINKLY PUG PUPPY~

This, as I understand it, is not acting; this is reacting. I am responding, frame by frame, to the content and extent of the information that has been presented to me and in such a way that my acknowledgement of this information adopts its own style. My emotions are captured, dare I say, possessed, by the most egregious and flagrant violations of human rights and decency that our country has recently experienced. If you don't count the early morning hours of November, 9, 2016, that is.

Heather Heyer.

As if I were watching an M. Night Shyamalan movie, the Indian American film director known for making movies with contemporary supernatural plots and surprise endings, firmly entrenched within my own set of fear and fascination, I become impervious to my surroundings. My attention is focused on the next move on the screen, a black shadow flickering in the upper left-hand corner, the dark, dense feeling in the pit of my stomach, and (once again) my facial expressions as my brain takes in the multiple nuances chronicled in each scene. A pronounced squint becomes my preferred mask-like face for the next hour and a half.

This is, precisely, my reaction to the posts on Facebook from the past several days! If truth be told, within the past year or more.

How does it begin? Will it ever end or, at least, be contained enough to not be as blatantly and brazenly splashed before our eyes like acidic liquid the deep, crimson color of blood? Hatred...unrestrained by a sense of shame; rudely bold, and justified by many while they tout the uniform (white polo shirts and khaki pants) and carry a burning torch in the day or night. 

HER BEAUTIFUL FACE.....!

Hate is a word we teach our children not to use. Hate is an emotion that, if allowed to control us, has the power to turn us inside out as if our internal organs were exposed and we begin to associate the natural beauty and goodness of our world as a 'punch in the gut.' Hatemongers misinterpret the love of family and friends as reprehensible behavior and disassociate themselves from them with the need for a more tangible cause; one that justifies the sense of power bursting forth like molten lava from deep within their darkening souls.

Heather Heyer.

While under the influence of hate, they seek other haters because hate in large quantities helps to substantiate their cause. While strengthening their beliefs and affording themselves more power and more intense reasons to hate, the haters find safety in numbers; justified by the comfort of an administration that clings to them as life supports within a churning sea of dissolution and destruction of the 'law of the land' as we know it.

Even writing about hate right now has gotten to me and I feel my face contorting into 'facial yoga' expressions that I usually reserve for driving alone in the car, protected by the thought that what happens in the car stays in the car. Silly me. Vestiges of 'The Scream' painted by Edvard Munch begin to dissolve before me as I, too, feel a whiff of melancholy while sitting here thinking about his accompanying poem, "I remained behind - Shivering with Anxiety - and feeling the infinite Scream in Nature." Edvard Munch

'THE SCREAM'
"FEELING THE INFINITE SCREAM IN NATURE"

Her beautiful face, from childhood to maturity, a face that projects being deeply loved by her parents, friends, and coworkers alike, flashes before me so often that it's as though I've watched her grow up before my very eyes! Heather Heyer. Post after post after post recalls a very strong, very opinionated young woman who “made known that she was all about equality," according to Alfred Wilson, her boss at the law firm where she worked. Before she was cut down by hate, she was helping people through bankruptcy and telling them, "It's going to be okay."

Heather Heyer could be my own daughter, my friend, the girl next door. For each of her thirty-two years on this earth, I thank her that many times over and over for holding the goodness in life to a higher standard than the sadness of hatred and strife. For this alone, Heather is a hero. Little did she know that she would be making the ultimate sacrifice for all that she believed in and held so dear to her heart by
giving her own life towards the justification of equality and compassion.

As I type her name again, Heather Heyer, not wishing to forget it...ever, I am becoming more conscious of my emotions. The inevitable tears are welling up, rising to the surface, ready to flow. My facial expressions soften, become more relaxed this time, and my breathing is deeper, more sustained. 

Repeating her name, Heather Heyer, out loud is calming. Her kindness, sweetness, and caring for others is like an invisible salve spreading across the earth; angel wings floating above the weak and the wretched, the loving and kind spirited, alike. I don't know what Heather's voice sounds like and, I, more than likely, never will. But, I do know this for certain...when we close our eyes and feel the love, experience the hope, and hear the voice of comfort, we will know it is Heather's and she is telling us not to worry, it's going to be okay!

REMEMBERING YOU....ALWAYS, HEATHER HEYER!
WITH OUR LOVE, AMERICA!!!

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved 

A WORKING VACATION

A series of essays.....

DAN AFTER A LONG, HARD, AND
HIGHLY PRODUCTIVE WEEK OF CONSTRUCTION

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Never doubting Dan's ability to create something out of sticks and stones, using hammer and nails, and topping it all off with waterproof membrane and shingles, we headed up north two weeks ago so that he could do just that.....

Riding in his Ford F-150 is comfortable and practical, too, because we had so much 'stuff' to haul up in the cab including tools, kitchen floor tiles, and bits and pieces from our house in Orlando that would lighten the experience of moving when that time comes. Let's not even discuss the amount of books that will be involved in this move. Downsizing from a twenty-four hundred square foot home after having lived here for over twenty years will be no small feat, I assure you!

FOUNDATION OF NEW FLOOR SPACE

BUILDING UP THE NEW FLOOR

COMBINING NEW WITH OLD FLOOR

NEW FLOOR DECK

The running gag that epitomizes his eventual retirement and our move up to Michigan is, "I need my kitchen. I'll move up when my kitchen is finished." Janis, my sweet friend from high school days, could tell you how often I've referenced that phrase over the past year. Well, we're diligently working on my kitchen now and that brings our immediate future into a proper perspective. Our 'little yellow cottage' is, finally, taking shape and we now have the bruises, swollen ankles and lingering fatigue to prove it! All done with love, of course.

Driving straight through for over nineteen hours isn't the most pleasant experience, however, it gets us there in good time with our own bed waiting for us at the cottage. The first evening was spent at our friends' home in nearby Richland where we feasted on exceptional cuisine, drank a crisp French white, and basked in the warmth of meaningful conversation and the comfort of good friendship. It was a delightful way to begin our week and we thank you, dearly, Michael and Marsha.

REMOVING 1941 KITCHEN

By Sunday morning we were raring to begin. After all, it was 'demo day!' The old kitchen had to go and that twenty yard dumpster taking up space in our small driveway needed to be filled up. Demolishing a kitchen from the 1941 era is no small task considering the multi-layers of flooring  and stuff in general contributed by multiple owners and time itself. By the time the dust settled and the tons of trash was hauled out by hand from the back of the house to the dumpster out front, we called it a day....well spent.

Leo, Dan's younger brother, was scheduled to arrive from the Traverse City area to help out and we welcomed him with open arms early Monday afternoon. Considering that Leo had, virtually, no experience in construction before, it was a joy to see him and Dan working so well together, side-by-side. He was Dan's 'left-handed' wonder because many of the spaces Dan couldn't reach as well, Leo was there to pound away using his left-handed prowess. 

That first day of measuring, sawing, and hammering away left the deck covered in inches of sawdust and various sizes of wood scraps and bent nails. But their progress was phenomenal! Dan and I had decided to expand the existing kitchen out and doubling its size by utilizing a summer porch at the back of the house. This new portion of the kitchen will have a nine foot ceiling and expand up, as well as out further enhancing the size of the room. I love it!

COTTAGE ON A HILL

GUYS HARD AT WORK

ALWAYS REMOVING
THE OLD LAYERS

Tuesday we met Dan and Leo's cousin, Gerry, whom we hadn't seen in years, for lunch. She is an amazing person and she and I, unabashedly, refer to one another as our CBM or, cousin-by-marriage and I thank Facebook for opening up the doors of communication for all of the long, lost CBM's and others who are roaming around out there in the world hoping to reconnect with family and friends.

RAISING WALL NUMBER ONE

WALL NUMBER TWO

CONSTRUCTING
WALL NUMBER THREE

We were blessed with exceptionally good Michigan weather each day until Friday rolled around, the day Leo was to leave, and it began to rain and the temperature dipped down into the fifties. I believe the turn in the weather proved to be Dan's nemesis as it instantly took a vengeful bite out of his stamina and spirit and accentuated the toll his week-long physical labor had taken on him. The dark circles beneath his eyes told me that the plans we had to meet friends for dinner in downtown Kalamazoo that night might have slid into the 'optional' category considering how exhausted he was. It was, literally, his call and he did call to, unfortunately, cancel our dinner plans. 

COMFORT ON A CHILLY
MICHIGAN NIGHT

We did what was necessary and got something light to eat, started a roaring fire in the stone clad fireplace, and cuddled beneath a pale green afghan on the living room couch. We talked about the week's activities as we luxuriated in the warmth given off by the dancing flames and listened to the crackle of our nurturing fire. Dan needed down time and this opportunity was perfect.

PLACING PLYWOOD OVER HIS
HANDMADE RAFTERS

GLAD THEY'RE NOT
AFRAID OF HEIGHTS

THIS NEW KITCHEN IS
GOING TO BE AMAZING!!!

No, work was not over yet! This new bump on the back of the house needed to be wrapped, sealed and protected head to toe from potential rain and bad weather and we spent hours nailing plastic sheathing around its belly and a thicker plastic membrane atop its head (pitched roof) before we could call it a day. I don't know where Dan found the strength to go roof climbing and yielding additional hammer swings, but he did. Necessity has its way of working things out.

By the time we cleaned up after our endeavors, showered, packed-up, and headed over to our daughter's house, all I could think about was having to drive back home to Orlando with the idea that Dan wanted to be back to work bright and early on Monday morning. Having left a bit later than originally planned Sunday, we pulled into our driveway around four o'clock on Monday morning. We slept soundly until around nine when we crawled out of bed to shower, make coffee and I was saying good-bye to Dan and watching him drive away for work by nine forty-five. 

BROTHERS ~ DAN AND LEO AFTER A JOB WELL DONE

I know for a fact that Dan could not have accomplished all that he did last week without the capable assistance of his brother. Leo was more than happy to learn what he could from his older brother about construction and Dan was grateful for his younger brother's determination, input, and stamina. What a team! Thank you for being there, Leo.

Although Dan's retirement from his current position with Roger B. Kennedy Construction remains to be determined and, while he is keeping all of his options open for the time being, he has proven once again how determined, flexible, and loyal he is as a team member for Kennedy. Dan's work ethic has always been based on his strong moral principles and I, for one, have been very proud of him for this.

Bottom line....that was our vacation. It was a bit different than last year's when we spent ten days experiencing the history, people, terrain, and exquisite beauty of the South of France. But, that's okay. As a team, we continue dreaming, hoping, planning, and balancing out our lives so that the future will hold many more adventures for us. One of the greatest adventures of all will be, eventually, becoming a pivotal part of the Kalamazoo community, meeting new friends, always appreciating current friends, enjoying our grandchildren, and thriving in our 'little yellow cottage.' 

EVEN AN ACORN FROM ONE OF THE OAK TREES IN
THE BACKYARD SEEMS PERFECT TO ME!

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

Photos Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes