Category Archives: People

In which we visit Rivendell

Jill and Gordon are two of my favorite people. Although technically my mom’s friends, I think of them as my own friends as well. I used to babysit for Jill’s kids, when I was in high school and college. Gordon graduated with Dean’s older brothers, Danny and Dennis. So Jill and Gordon are about half-way in age between my mom and me.

I remember Dean and I being invited to their house for dinner once, long ago, before we’d ever entertained (formally) ourselves. I don’t recall what we ate — something grilled, I think, but I do remember Gordon pouring me a glass of wine — it was probably the first time I’d drank wine that wasn’t sweet and cheap. Knowing Gordon, it was probably pretty good wine. I remember having a grown-up conversation with them and feeling really good about it.

We see them occasionally when we visit Elgin — more often now that they raise alpacas.

Gordon is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. When he talks to you it is as if you are the most important person in the world at that moment. He really listens. He’s also very smart and can converse on many topics and levels. Jill is a trip and a lot of fun. She always has a story to tell, and it usually involves waving hands and various decibels of voice loudness. She also always has a smile on her face. She also cares deeply about her friends and will do anything for ones in need. They compliment each other — Gordon is calm. Jill, not so much. I love these guys.

In or about 2000 they moved from California back to Plato Center, Illinois to help with Gordon’s folks. They moved into Gordon’s childhood farmhouse and soon began raising alpacas. I don’t think I knew anything about these beautiful creatures before Jill and Gordon began raising them, but when you visit Rivendell Alpacas, you can learn as much or as little as you want. Jill and Gordon love to teach people about their herd, as well as alpacas in general.

This past summer we heard that one of the alpacas living at Rivendell farm (a temporary border — not one from the regular herd) had just given birth. I’d never seen a newborn alpaca, called a cria, before so we jumped at the chance to see one.

Rivendell Farm has several pens that hold the resident alpacas. One near the house held the male alpacas and when we walked over to see the rest of the alpacas the males stood so they could get a good look at the females. I was waiting for the wolf whistles from these boys.

The Boys

We saw the newborn as soon as we walked into the pen that held some of the females. The mother made small warning sounds, but didn’t get too upset when we got near her baby.

Two females and the 1-day old cria

I was surprised to see the youngest alpaca walking around so confidently. I also expected it to be much smaller. I don’t remember why it had its ears wrapped in white gauze. Maybe Jill or Gordon will comment and remind me. Right behind the baby is the communal poop pile (I’m sure it has an official name).

The Cria

We visited with the alpacas in this pen for a while, feeding them grain from a bucket. Some got close to us, close enough for us to bury our hand in their soft coats, but some stayed farther away. Before we moved on I caught a shot of Jill and the tiny alpaca nose-to-nose.

Jill and a friend

When we went to the next pen we were treated to two young alpacas — born earlier in the summer — who loved to pick on each other. Gordon picked up one of them and brought it to us to feel and admire soft coat. Jill and Gordan gave us a primer on the types fleece and which kinds are preferred. Some are smoother than others — some are crinkly. All, I think, are warm.

We visited with the herd for a while longer then moved on to tour the rest of the farm. We picked blackberries — which I later made into a rather tart pie, played with the kittens and checked out Jill’s latest works of wearable art.

My mom, feeling generous that day, bought all of us a souvenir from the visit. Clare chose a felted fleece hat, Dean and Andrew each chose knit hats with braids (Alpaca, but not made by Jill), Brandon picked out some wool gloves, also not made by Jill. I found beautiful a scarf. Not alpaca (bamboo!), but made by Jill.

[Note: Gordon explained the white tape on the ears of the cria on my facebook page and added a bit about the youngster:

The cria in the picture was born with his ears folded back, and the tips were turned inside-out. A week with the tape restored the ears to their “normal” shape.

This little boy belongs to our friends the Davis’s. We were alpaca-sitting for them when he was born. He’s one of the friendliest alpacas we’ve seen, as the picture demonstrates.]

Mississippi


Mississippi stopped being on my list of places to visit after I got over the thrill of being able to spell it. Even when my Aunt Nancy and her family moved there in the 1970’s it held no appeal to me. I had no desire to ever visit to a state whose reputation for racism was so pronounced. In fact, I pretty much avoided all Southern states until we actually moved to one, but since Alexandria it was the Northern part of Virginia I didn’t think much of it.

This is not to say that I had lots of opportunities to visit the South. Sure, I could visit my relatives in Mississippi, but I chose not to. While I remembered them from my childhood, I didn’t feel the closeness with them that I had with, say my Aunt Ginny. I had mostly vague memories of my mom’s sister, Nancy and her family at family events. Then they moved to Mississippi and we’d occasionally see a few of them at a time when they went north to visit.

When my Aunt Ginny moved to Mississippi a few years ago, I knew that a visit there was in my future. She talked of how nice people were there and how much they liked living there instead of living in Illinois. We planned to visit them as a family for spring break, 2007, but Aunt Ginny wasn’t feeling well so we went to Savannah instead.

My Aunt Nancy was diagnosed with lung cancer a while back and went through chemotherapy which left her weak and feeling bad most of the time. When the doctors told her the cancer was back and suggested chemotherapy again, she said she’d had enough and wanted to live what she had left of her life without feeling sick all of the time. I knew that this was a good time to visit — to see my Aunt Nancy again while she still felt OK and to see Aunt Ginny again. I was also looking forward to seeing all of my cousins again.

So I made plans to drive to Mississippi the week Andrew went back to school and before Labor Day weekend. I also thought it would take my mind off the trauma of dropping Clare off at college. I eventually decided I’d spend Labor Day weekend in Mississippi — drive down on Thursday and drive back on Tuesday — hopefully that way avoiding any holiday traffic.

The trip to Mississippi was very smooth. I felt great as I drove down Interstate 80 and looked forward to driving through Tennessee and seeing the mountains. I also was excited about adding two states to my list of states I’d visited: Alabama and Mississippi. I spent the night in Chattanooga, Tennessee, knowing that showing up around midnight at my aunt and uncle’s house would not be appreciated — besides, I was a little tired and hungry.

I rely heavily on my GPS to get me around, even in my town, so was happy to have the familiar voice instructing me where to turn. I was a little worried when the voice instructed me to exit before the town my aunt and uncle call home, but followed his directions and after a slight scare on a gravel road, found a main road and eventually my aunt and uncle’s home.

The day before I left for Mississippi my Aunt Ginny called and said that she was in the hospital. I took a few hours do decide if I was still going to go to Mississippi, but decided to go ahead with the plan. I’d still get to see both my aunts and perhaps could help out somehow. When I got to my aunt and uncle’s house I pulled up near the boathouse and was excited to see an armadillo having a drink of water from the waterway on which my aunt and uncle live. I’d never seen an armadillo before, so didn’t know they usually don’t come out in the daytime nor are they usually surrounded by a horde of flies. When Uncle Jack saw it he figured it was doomed — the flies were probably attracted to a wound on its side.

Wounded armadillo

After taking some photos of the armadillo I called my aunt in the hospital, thinking that my uncle was there too. I was in the middle of telling Aunt Ginny how lovely I thought her view was when Uncle Jack came outside to welcome me to their home. Along with Uncle Jack was a noticeably lactating white dog with a large head and strong jaws that I’d been warned about. Never having seen a pit bull before, I would not have worried when I saw her, but knowing her breed, I was a little wary. I didn’t have anything to worry about, however, she was a real sweetheart and liked the treat of organic goldfish crackers I gave her (they’d fallen on the floor of my car as I turned the corner onto the street where my aunt and uncle live).

The not-very-scary pit bull, PD

After settling in a little, Uncle Jack and I drove to Tupelo where the hospital my aunt was staying was located. Her doctor said she could go home with us, so we visited a while until she was discharged and went back to their house.

That afternoon Uncle Jack and I drove to a town south of their house to pick up something at their pharmacy. I wondered why they drove there when they could have gone to a closer town, but when I saw the pharmacy I understood, immediately! It was a small drug store that I would not be remiss in calling an apothecary. When we pulled up I saw a bright sign in the window. “Mammogram Magic”. I was slightly shocked, then impressed that the store was being so forward in making sure they got the word out that mammograms save lives. I didn’t say anything to Uncle Jack, but later, as I took photos of the building, noticed the sign again — this time on top of a marquee that gave the time and temperature. Only then did I realize that it said Monogram Magic and not Mammogram magic. I took a picture anyway — and told my uncle my mistake. He thought it was funny.

Monogram, not mammogram

My aunt and uncle live on what is called the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway or Tenn-Tom for short. It connects the Tennessee and the Tombigbee Rivers and is about as wide as a medium sized river. Quite a bit of boat traffic, from individually owned recreational boats to fancy yachts to huge barges, goes up and down the waterway daily. There is also quite a bit of bird traffic. As soon as I got out of the car the first day I heard a belted kingfisher’s rattle. Later in the visit I saw geese, cormorants, an osprey, herons and egrets on the water. It is really lovely there — even during a mayfly swarm. Never had I seen so many mayflies as the first day I was there, if I’d ever seen one at all.

A Mayfly

The second day, Saturday, my uncle and I drove to Etta, Mississippi to visit my Aunt Nancy and her family. When we got there, Don came out and greeted us. It had been such a long time, I had to ask him who he was. After that people told me their names (whew!). So during my visit I saw all of my Aunt Nancy’s children except for my cousin Ron, who doesn’t live nearby. I had a great talk with my Aunt Nancy — she seems the same as she was the last time I saw her. I always wished she’d written down her life-story. She is a wonderful writer and I used to love to get letters from her.

On the way back to Aunt Ginny and Uncle Jack’s house Uncle Jack and I stopped to pick up a pizza at a newly opened Italian restaurant in Tupelo. Uncle Jack said that he and Aunt Ginny had talked about getting a pizza from there someday — that it looked good (they said that pizza in Mississippi was usually a disappointment). This restaurant had the neatest thing I’d seen in a restaurant — a wine-dispensing carousel that doled out small portions of wine if you inserted a smart-card into a slot.

The rest of my stay was wonderfully relaxing and pretty much uneventful. It was so nice to spend some quality time with my Aunt Ginny — she and I have always been quite close. I also saw a part of my Uncle Jack that I’d missed before because I wasn’t looking or perhaps he’d hidden it in the past. He’s a gentle, kind and loving person. He took care of Aunt Ginny when she needed it. He cooked all of the meals (and seemed to enjoy doing it) and has taken over the laundry duties. He’s also feeds a squirrel who sits on the railing and waits for him to notice her.

Jack’s Squirrel Friend

I’m so glad I went to Mississippi. The people I met were all very nice. I learned that not all pit bulls are scary. I got to see some relatives I had not seen in years and I spent some time with one of my favorite people in the world.

Whaddaya Know?

When I first noticed actor David Thewlis in Mike Leigh’s Life is Sweet (see it if you can find it), I knew there was something about him I liked. Until recently I thought it was because he resembled Bob, a guy I met in London to whom I was a little attracted.

David Thewlis in Life is Sweet

I’ve seen many films that Thewlis has been in and have always liked his performance when I do. Even Naked. (another good, but disturbing film to watch)

I knew he played the Nazi father in The Boy in the Striped Pajamas and I knew he’d do it well because he is a good actor. It can’t be easy playing someone as hated as a Nazi, especially one who sent so many people to their deaths. I cannot say that I liked the film (I didn’t like the book), but I liked his performance.  He plays a loving but preoccupied (and naïve) father who is also a Nazi death camp commandant. 

A scene from The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

In one scene he asks his children about how they like life at their new home. I kept on looking at the character he played and was sure I’d seen that face before. Yeah, it was David Thewlis, but I finally knew who he reminded me of. No, it wasn’t Bob.

He resembled another man — one of the all time favorite men in my life: Grandpa Green. Of course it is the haircut, and the set of the lips and the chin. Maybe the nose too. I imagine the photo of my grandfather is from around the time of World War II. I’ll have to watch the Harry Potter films again to see if I see Grandpa in Lupin (Hmm, another werewolf).

Grandpa Green walking in Elgin