Candy Crush Saga - June 19, 2014

Candy Crush Saga

I have a life long friend,

Who has meant the world to me,

We've always stayed in touch,

No matter where we'd be.

Camilla was my dorm mate,

Over fifty years ago,

In our freshman year of high school,

Which we said we hated so.

 In spite of being very strict,

With three study halls a day,

We  forged the strongest friendships,

And got in a little play.

We were together only 9th grade,

But if we were ever near,

We always saw each other,

And years seemed to disappear

During January, I visited Atlanta,

Spending five days with Camilla and Dave,

We shivered and reminisced together,

In the throes of an icy cold wave!

We had yummy venison sausage,

And martinis fit for a queen,

But she turned me into an addict,

On something totally unforseen.

Every night, she got out her computer,

And started frantically playing a game,

It's called "Candy Crush Saga," she said,

When I demanded to know the game's name.

But don't ever start, she admonished,

You will never be able to quit,

How right she was with her warning,

I am really having a fit.

I admit I am playing quite often,

And I don't find it very much fun.

No matter how fast my fingers are racing,

I can never pass twenty-one!!

Thanks a million, Camilla.

Carmen Henesy

Copyright June 2014 by Carmen Henesy

BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir, Atlanta, Georgia - January 27, 2014

It seems that, even 7000 miles from India, that country I love remains part of my 

life.  During my visit to Atlanta last week, my friend, Camilla Arthur, took me to

see my mother.  Leaving Lawrenceville, she insisted we make a stop in 

Lilburn to visit an incredible Hindu temple that absolutely took my breath away.

It was bitterly cold so we did not do an inside tour but drove about the perimeter,

in awe, marveling at its beauty.

A mandir is a Hindu place of worship - a center of cultural, spiritual, and social 

life - a place of peace.  The BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir opened in August,

2007 - the result of 1.3 million volunteer hours, built in only 17 months.  It is 

comprised of Turkish limestone, Italian marble, and Indian pink

sandstone.  More than 34, 000 pieces were handcarved in India and reconstructed

in Lilburn, a beautiful part of "the country of my heart" in the state of my birth.

To learn more about this incredible Hindu temple, visit their website at:

http://atlanta.baps.org/index.html.  It would be well worth a visit if you are in the

Atlanta, Georgia area.

The Grout is Out - Magpie #20 - Tuesday, June 29, 2010

The Grout is Out - Magpie #20 - Tuesday, June 29, 2010

She wasn't very happy when Mrs. Howell had rung yesterday afternoon to tell her to open up the house  for the summer.  She would be relegated to the maid's quarters once again and she had gotten used to playing mistress of the manor in the opulent master bedroom, with its sweeping verhandah and views of the Atlantic.  She had even helped herself to Mrs. Howell's luxurious silk nightgowns and, on occasion, when Mr. Howell stopped off briefly "to check on things at the summer home" - something that his wife never did - Clarissa helped herself to Mr Howell. 

Of course, they could never go into Charleston to dine at the elegant restaurants but he would have lobster, Louis Roederer Champagne Cristal Brut, fresh strawberries, pate, fresh asparagus, and other gourmet delicacies delivered from the gourmet shop sixty miles away.

For one or two days, she reveled in the good life, forgetting that she was merely a maid and had been so at Cypress  Cove for three years now.  She was seventy miles from town and well paid but she was almost finished with her online degree and wanted more for herself.  For the

next two months, Mrs. Howell and the children would be here and she would not be able to have any intimate contact with Mr. Howell. 

Cypress Cove would be like Grand Central Station.   The full time cook would arrive, along with a nanny, the butler, and, probably, a tutor.  The gardener would be about more often and the pool boy.  She loathed being relegated to hired help status, especially when a small emerald pendant lay nestled at her throat and she had been given a modest but very elegant Movado watch.  She had enjoyed a luxurious week in Bermuda last month, another gift from Mr. Howell.

He had made it clear, at the beginning, that she could not expect any type of real relationship

from him, yet here she was, wishing for more.

As they lay in bed later that night, Clarissa turned to look at Mr. Howell.  He was dazzingly handsome with the moonlight on his bronzed face, his muscular body reflecting his obsession with his workout routine.  He didn't look forty-years-old, no, indeed.  He had married into Southern royalty ten years ago and was a major financial success himself.

For this reason, she didn't hesitate and plunged ahead, telling him she wanted to stop working at Cypress Cove.  "I want you to get me an apartment in Atlanta....somewhere you might be

able to come every week, even if it's just for a few hours.  I feel like I deserve that.  We've been carrying on like this for two years now and I've seen no one else.  I hate being ordered around by your wife.....sometimes I just feel like screaming that I'm sleeping with you!"

Clarissa felt Mr. Howell tense up beside her but he merely smiled and said, Perhaps we'll consider it.  Now let's get some sleep.  I have an early start tomorrow."

After breakfast in the morning, he reminded her, "The other help will be here on the weekend and my wife and the kids arrive Monday.  That gives you three days to get to work cleaning.  Remember, Mrs. Howell will be checking the bathrooms, especially.  Make sure the tiles are

sparklling.

He took her in his arms, kissed her, and was off.  No mention of an apartment, no talk of a future, just clean the damn bathrooms.  In a rage, she changed into shorts, tied her hair back and started in the downstairs bathroom. 

Armed with cleaning supplies, she climbed into the fancy tub, with the worn toothbrush and began scrubbing furiously at the tiles.  "When I'm done", she thought, "there probably won't be any grout left"!  She was so engrossed with the task at hand, she never heard Mr. Howell enter the bathroom until the pillow was pressed against her face, cutting off the air to her lungs.

I am participating in Willow's creative writing Magpie Tales - join in the fun.

Buried Treasure - Magpie Tales - Tuesday, 5-18-10

Melanie got home about midnight, exhausted.  She missed the wonderful cool San Francisco temperatures and the diversity of the city by the Bay.  Her year at the California Culinary Institute had gone by in a blur and her series of jobs at mediocre restaurants since her return to Atlanta had been nothing but disappointments.  Ben still hadn't arrived from his evening shift as a concierge at the Buckhead Ritz Carlton.  They planned an early start to head out into the country in hopes of finding something suitable to open as a bed and breakfast.  They  put every cent into savings for this purpose and, when Melanie's father died, the sale of his small house was earmarked for for the bed and breakfast fund as well.  Their wedding, once again, was postponed.

Every weekend, for the past six months, they had looked at real estate ads and driven to see properties within two hours of Atlanta, that showed any promise of fulfilling their dream.  Nothing was ever suitable, mainly because the prices were so exhorbitant.  They got up at 7AM on Saturday and, after a delicious spinach, gruyere torte and strong French dark roast coffee, ventured out into the blistering heat.  Three hours later, spirits sagging, after seeing  three disappointing old houses, they turned down a road, overgrown with kudzu and blackberry vines.  Wild honeysuckle grew everywhere and the heady fragrance hung heavily in the hot air.  They passed a large lake, then turned down a wide, rutted dirt drive lined with oak and magnolia and there before them was a huge house.  It had white columns and and a large verandah that ran the entire length of the house.  The second story had several balconies, two that clearly needed repair.  Melanie drew in her breath.  It looked like a scene from "Gone With the Wind."

The realtor met them a half hour later and took them through the house, an antebellum home that had been built in 1850.  The male members of the original family had not survived the Civil War but the home had been kept in the family until World War II.  The house had been sold to

five buyers since that time but had been empty since 1980.  There had been some vandalism

in the years since and the old mansion definitely needed renovation.  The current owners were asking $150,000 for the house, the outhouses and the ten acres of land.  Melanie and Ben did not hesitate and immediately put in an offer.  They knew it would take them a great deal of work but they could see the finished product, with its ten bedrooms, the huge ballroom, the parlor, large kitchen, dining room, and spacious grounds.  They would do a good deal of the work themselves and, eventually, Magnolia Manor, would open to paying guests.

A year later, their savings were nearly exhausted but most of the work was complete.  Melanie and Ben had taken on the task of  making a back garden behind the house. They were digging in the yard near the old root cellar when Ben's shovel hit something.  Several hours later, they had unearthed four trunks.  Fading gold initials on each showed the monogram, JLM, the initials of the wife of the owner of Magnolia Manor.  Excitedly, Melanie and Ben opened the trunks and went through the contents.  One was packed with twenty-four place settings of exquisite blue Minton willow china, complete with two dozen serving pieces.  Another trunk held a beautiful lace wedding gown and veil. Inside the third trunk lay two dozen pieces of what appeared to be very expensive jewelry.  It was later appraised at $300,000 in value - an incredible diamond and ruby necklace with matching bracelet and ring, a beautiful diamond solitaire ring and matching band, a diamond tiara, an emerald and diamond necklace and a matching bracelet and ring.

On New Year's eve, Melanie and Ben were married in the ballroom at Magnolia Manor.  She wore the dress and veil that had been hidden in the buried trunk at the start of the Civil War and the diamond solitaire and diamond band were on her finger.  The first Manor guests  feasted on the Willow china that week, dining on a superb menu prepared by the resident chef, Melanie Bowman.  It seems that dreams really can come true.

Georgia

I went out again with my friends last night....will post those pitures later.  I am really enjoying getting to spend so much time with them.  Tonight, we're going out for Greek food!  I am also accomplishing a few things for my mother as well.  In two weeks, thanks to Dale Wommack and St. Mark's Church here in Columbus, my mother will get a hot meal daily at lunch, from Monday to Friday, complete with a beverage and dessert - she loves butttermilk so I am sure that will be her choice.  Also, she finally agreed to see her doctor and I am taking her, first thing Monday morning to Dr. Fussell's office!  That is the biggest relief of all to me.  She has been off her medication for hypertension for over a year.  At the very least, she needs blood work and I am sure he will do that!

The best news of all is that my brother and his wife sold their home in Florida and will move back to Atlanta, into their new home there, on Thursday.  They will be only about a hundred miles from my mother which will take some of the burden off of me, 2500 miles away.  They always lived in Atlanta until my brother decided he wanted to be near the beach about eight years ago, much to my sister's dismay ( she's always felt like a sister to me, not just a sister-in-law ).  Like a good wife, she humored him and, finally, he agreed to move back home.

I would never move back to Georgia myself, not even to Atlanta which is quite a nice city.  It's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter but I still feel a lot of love for my home state.  I penned this poem not long ago and I wanted to put it out there, especially for my Georgia friends who are now reading my blog and for those of you who are not familiar with this state.

Georgia

I think of you with fondness,
This state of my birth,
With your Chattahoochee River,
And deep red clay earth.

In the spring, you're abloom,
With dogwoods and azalea,
And you claim that famous onion,
That comes from Vidalia!

Long known as the Peach State,
You're known for peanuts, too,
And before the boll weevil,
Huge fields of cotton grew!

You are a part of our history,
One of the original thirteen states,
You can boast the sea and mountains,
In the list of Georgia's greats.

There is Southern hospitality,
And giants of industry, too,
Amd a mix of U. S. military,
Thrown into the brew.

Georgia has so much to offer,
And no matter where I roam,
I'm proud to say my roots are there,
You will always feel like home.

Carmen Henesy

Copyright©2008 Carmen Henesy. All Rights Reserved.