The Lodge
I was nine the first time I saw the Peaks of Otter Lodge. That was in 1964, the year it opened. My family was camping, the only way we vacationed, hotels being too pricey for my dad’s wallet. But that was fine by me. Cooking dinner on the Coleman stove, roasting marshmallows over the open fire, using kerosene lanterns, and sleeping on the ground in our green canvas tent made the ultimate vacation for me. And camping in the mountains was best, with the cool air, trails to hike, bears and deer to glimpse, and educational programs led by park rangers. The Lodge was brand new, so we stopped in to take a look. I was awed by what I saw: high ceilings supported by huge beams of wood, shining light fixtures, and a stone fireplace so massive I could walk inside it....
Winery
We just returned from a visit to Peaks of Otter, Virginia, my personal Garden of Eden, and, as always, I discovered something new. The old was there, of course—Sharp Top is immutable and, I expect, will remain for thousands of years to come. For the first time ever, though, we visited the Peaks of Otter Winery and Johnson’s Orchards. George and I were the only guests present, so we commanded full attention from the guy giving the wine-tastings. Said his name was Shannon; later, from their website, we realized his name was Shannon Johnson. (Johnson’s Orchards, remember?) He was keen on knowing our names, which we shared: George and Karen. He insisted that I try his wine, though we had told him I wasn’t a wine-drinker. I tasted one—burned the tip...
Bridesmaid
I dressed conservatively as a teen, never comfortable showing a bit more skin that necessary and avoiding the company of those who revealed too much. Which explains why I made my friend, Alta, change from a tight low-cut top to a more modest one before we went to a basketball game our senior year in high school. She really loved me to willingly put that purple leotard top back in her drawer. Though best friends, our styles continued to differ through college and on to the era of our weddings. Before I even glimpsed the bridesmaid gown Alta had selected for her wedding, she was on her knees begging me to wear it in spite of what it would reveal. The dress, a pale pink knit, was a halter dress, showing bare shoulders with no place for bra straps. A cut-out lace...
Cherry
A cherry is a small round fruit that grows on a tree. It draws attention because of its pretty red color. This handy little fruit has nutritional value as well, contributing to a good night’s sleep, reduced inflammation, and improved heart health. Cherries are good. I just don’t want them growing on me–like the red spots that currently live on my abdomen and thighs. I had to do research to learn that these tiny blood blisters are called cherry angiomas. When you see the word, cherry, you expect a good thing. I can’t say anything good about these spots, except that they keep me from wearing a bikini. For which other beach-goers are thankful. Apparently, these things appear as people grow older which is why, my research shows, they’re...
The Letter
A letter came announcing the Inaugural Event of the Senior Adult Ministry at my church. It’s appropriate, I suppose, since 200 members have achieved senior status. The ministry will encourage folks to serve together and care for each other, keeping in mind the unique interests and needs of this segment of our membership. I don’t need Depends yet—not to say I won’t in the near future. But I think my needs aren’t much different than those of a 50-year-old or even a 40-year-old. Do you know something I don’t know, church leaders? Is that even possible, since I’m older than all of you? Or am I the queen of denial? I’m sure the spirit behind the letter is good, as is the heart of the dear pastor who wrote it. Caring for others is...
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