RT has his own small airplane, and today we put it to good use. I wanted to go visit my mother in Georgia, but it’s a three and a half hour drive. I had bought her a wireless laptop computer for Christmas, but it didn’t arrive in time for Christmas. Of course, it arrived the very day AFTER I got back home from my trip to visit my mother a few days after Christmas. So another trip was in order. I wanted to drive down and then come back today. I couldn’t stay but a little while because I have a couple appointments for tomorrow that I can’t miss.

RT said he’d fly me there. It had been over a month since he’s flown the plane, and it needed to be flown. So around 12:30, RT and I took off in his airplane - landed in my mother’s town an hour later. My sister, Debi, and her son, Jonathan, picked us up and drove us to my mother’s. Jonathan - a sophomore in college who is very adept with the inner workings of a computer and who had promised to set up the wireless connection for Mother - started working on getting the laptop and printer set up. RT and I, Debi and my mother visited for about 45 minutes. Then, we asked Debi to drive us back to the airport. First, though, I had RT snap a photo of me with Debi and Mother.

Carol, Ruth, Debi

We landed back in Nashville at 4:00. In the time it would have taken me to drive to my mother’s house (three and a half hours) we flew there, visited and flew back home.

Ahhhhhh. Very nice.

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Another poem by RT - about me. I think it’s pretty cool to be almost 60 years old and still having my man writing poems about me. There may be snow on the roof (figuratively speaking) but there’s still fire in the furnace.

Today You Appeared

Today I waited

Today I longed for you.

Built a fire

Thought of my desire.

Then you finally appeared,

My quest and heart at peace

With you by my side.

My wait now over

As you rounded the curve.

And walked with me back

Up the hill.

11/22/08, RTJ

Now for the background - which might take away a little of the poem’s romantic feel. I left the house earlier this morning to get a manicure and pedicure, then by RT’s office to pick up a print I had bought and left there for my daughter to look at. I took the print to Michael’s and picked out the matting and the frame and left it to be framed. Then I was off to Pier 1 to see if I saw anything that appealed to me for the house - I didn’t. I walked out empty-handed. Then I was off to Sam’s to get some paper towels, toilet paper, a few things for the next time our church packs boxes to send to soldiers, and a ham to cook for tomorrow’s church potluck dinner. Then I headed by Publix to pick up a few groceries. By the time I got home, it was approximately 5 hours after I had left.

In the meantime, RT had been at home all day. He had decided to burn a HUGE (no exaggeration) pile of brush that we’d been accumulating for a year and a half. When I say huge pile of brush - I mean a pile probably about the size of the barn. In addition to dead trees that we’d pushed together while building our house last year, our son’s landscaping company had been adding clippings and other brush to it for the past year, too.

Once RT started the fire, he couldn’t leave it unattended. So he was stuck at the bottom of the hill watching the fire all morning and into the afternoon. Lunchtime came and went. He was hungry. Now realistically, he could have walked up to the house and made a sandwich while watching the fire out the window. However, he preferred to wait for me.

Meanwhile, I was blissfully unaware of his “need.” I stopped mid-errands and got myself some lunch and enjoyed it at my leisure.

So RT was anxiously awaiting my car to round the curve in the driveway so I could come inside and fix him some lunch. I think having lunch prepared for him was the “desire” he referred to in the poem. Shortly after my arrival home he was happily munching on a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of chicken rice soup - and composing poetry.

The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach - no truer words were ever spoken. RT graduated summa cum laude from college. However, he is a smart man in other, nonacademic way, too. For one, he is always appreciative and complimentary of whatever I make. He is quick to tell any-and-everyone he meets that he loves my cooking. And then he writes me love notes and poetry. As I said, he’s a very smart man. If I had someone willing to cook for me, I’d wait, too.

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This morning I mentioned to RT that he had some comments on the poems of his that I had published here a few days ago - here, here and here. After I read the comments to him, he said, “Random Cabin” might be calling soon.

“Random Cabin?” I asked - totally clueless about what he was referencing.

“Well, Random House might not be interested.”

It is obvious that I was meant to be with RT because I am still laughing. I so “get” his humor.

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RT’s on a poetry kick lately. Here’s another of this morning’s poems:

What’s deep?

Deep is not defined by inches or feet.
Deep can get deeper and deepest
Without a rule to check it out.

A well that is deep to the weary digger,
but has not hit water,
Is not deep at all to a thirsty traveler.

A hurt that wounds another soul may be
Only a ahallow word but cuts deeper than a sword.

The deepest deep is deep love.
Deep love pours out and just keeps pouring.

Deep love injures not another.

A Mother’s love for her child is never measured
But runs deeper than any river ever flowed.

Don’t try to measure love nor deep
Just know when deep grows it gets deeper.
When love grows, it becomes lover.

Now that’s deep.

RTJ, Copyright 2008

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Here’s a poem RT wrote this morning. I like it!

What’s Funny About That?

Funny is funny.
No explanation needed.

When funny happens,
Laughter explodes.

What’s funny is not a question to ask,
If it is, it is.

Isn’t God a bit like funny?

What’s God is not a question to ask,
If God is, God is.

God put a lot of funny in creation.
Look around for funny.
See it. Let it happen.

Get funny.
You might just get God
With no questions asked.

RJ. Copyright 2008

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This evening RT wrote a poem to me. Here it is:

Thank God I Saw You
My Beautiful One

First, you caught my eye,
With your long blonde hair
Emerald eyes and shapely legs.

You were my first real love
And have always remained my only real love.

You have made my life complete by giving me the greatest gifts that
Life and love can provide—

Yourself to become with me Ourselves
Our children together to become our family
And branch into our blessed and precious Lily and Sophie.

First you caught my eye
In time you captured my soul
And with the power of your love you set me free
To be all I could become.

Like the deep faces of a diamond’s inner core
You reflect light and inspiration back to me that lifts and supports me
With a “go for it spirit”.

With you I can fly
Reaching far up into the sky
On love’s lifting wings

The spark that caught my eye in you
Was the love of God
Shining thru the beauty of you.

RTJ, 11/14/08

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Sunday morning RT and I woke up and decided to have a day together. So often RT and I spend much of weekends going our separate ways taking care of our individual errands and interests. We decided that whatever we did on Sunday, we would do it together.

Although Sunday School and church are things we always do together, we decided to skip them both. Instead we got on the internet and found an apple orchard that was just an hour away. We got in the car and headed east where we visited Breeden’s Apple Orchard in Mt. Juliet, TN.

There we bought four bags of apples, a half gallon of apple cider, some sorghum and molasses, and various jams and jellies. We left there and stopped by a country cafe for a “home-cooked” lunch of fried chicken, vegetables and sweet tea.

Then we headed southeast of Nashville to Henry Horton State Park for nine holes of golf.

Neither of us had ever played that particular course, and it was beautiful. We played the back nine holes - and had much of the course to ourselves. We didn’t keep score and had a grand time. We joked and laughed our way through the course. We had some great shots and some not-so-great shots. Mostly, we enjoyed the beautiful day, the cool breeze and the breathtaking scenery. The golf course is surrounded by beautiful wooded areas - just gorgeous.

After golf, we headed to the opposite side of the park to their skeet-shooting range where I “pulled” as Ron went through six boxes of shells - missing very few of the targets.

Afterwards we headed back to Nashville - drove by my school to pick up my lesson plan book so I could refresh my memory about whether or not I had a particular lesson to do today. (I did.)

Then we swung by the grandgirls’ house to share our apples with them. While we were there, they were eager for us to see the work they’ve done on their rooms. . . Well, the work their mom and dad have done on their rooms. Their rooms looked great, and they were thrilled to have the apples.

And finally we headed home again. What a wonderful and relaxing day.

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RT and I were walking in our woods yesterday and found a persimmon tree loaded with ripe fruit - with lots of fruit on the ground underneath. We decided that we wanted to use the bounty from our land to make something.

We settled on persimmon jam, and RT went back and picked a basket of the fruit this afternoon.

He washed the fruit and mashed them. Then he pushed the fruit through a strainer to get out the seeds. He ended up with about 2 cups of pulp. To that we added 3 cups of sugar and then boiled the fruit/sugar mixture for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, we prepared canning jars in boiling water. We added one package of powdered pectin to the persimmon/sugar mixture and boiled it for about a minute. Then we ladeled the mixture into the jars. It made about 3 1/2 jars of jam - 8 ounces each.

Needless to say, RT is very proud of his first efforts at canning.

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RT is very good to me. Today he had the use of a skid-steer, and so he spent a good chunk of the day clearing more walking paths throughout our property. There is plentiful poison ivy all through the property, and so during the spring and summer (and much of the fall), I have to stay compleely out of the woods.

However, now there is probably close to at least a mile (or more) of walking paths winding through the woods of our property.

Our son has his four-wheeler parked in our barn. So this afternoon after I walked the new paths RT had blazed for me, I spent about an hour riding the four-wheeler over all the paths. Repeatedly. What fun! It’s so nice having RT make the trail just for me.

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If RT and I had remained married, today would have been our 39th anniversary. However, we divorced after 28 years of marriage - remained divorced for 8 years and then remarried in 2006. So now we have two anniversaries. June 7, 1969 and September 5, 2006. When people ask us how long we’ve been married, it’s hard to give an answer. At one time I thought we should take the 28+ years we were married at first - and count how many days from the day our divorce was final to when 29 years would have been. And then start with the second marriage and add those days until we get to the number that would make 29 years - and whatever day of the year that is - let that be our anniversary . . . It’s complicated, and I have never taken the time to figure it out. It does make for some awkward moments, though, in casual conversation. No one wants to hear the long, drawn-out story of why it’s difficult to know exactly how long we’ve been married. So I stick with the easy answer: More than 30 years.

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