A Cautionary Tale, Part 2

 

 The very clever map below was found on Facebook. Hats off to whoever came up with this one. (Please note the Cancun area is marked "Gulf of Little Beaches." I believe the suggested name of the gulf just south of New Orleans comes under "universal language.")

 

 With all three girls off to college, Susie (no longer blonde) and Mike

 had to get a friend to take this year's Valentine photo.

 A Cautionary Tale, Part 2*

or

How Not to Drive the Grandchildren Home 

from the Singing Christmas Trees, Part 2

 

*slightly revised from original version posted in 2011                        

At the end of Part 1, you may recall, all seemed to be well.  The three little girls and I had finally arrived home (one hour after leaving the church - on what should have been no more than a 30-min. drive).  We ate supper and were watching a movie when . . .

Mommy turned her phone back on and called to say that the concert was running longer than expected and could I please take the children home and put them to bed.  I was still nerve-wracked to the bone, but food had helped, so I only twinged slightly at the thought of putting the girls back in the car and driving three blocks.

I loaded everyone back into the SUV and arrived at their gated community a few minutes later.  I reached for the gate clicker I assumed was on the visor, and . . . oh-oh.   No, the girls didn’t know where mama stashed the clicker, but they assured me I could punch in a code.  Alas, I had to tell them that the code only worked until six p.m.  After that, you have to have a clicker or someone has to be at the house to buzz you in.  ( I recalled one memorable evening when my son-in-law climbed the gate, all eight feet of it, at 1:00 a.m.)

“We can go in your car, Gramma,” said one of the girls.  (They knew I had a gate-clicker on my car.) So we turned around and headed back to my house.  But as I drove toward my house, it occurred to me that if we were in my car, we wouldn’t have the built-in garage-door opener on the SUV.  Without which I’d need a key to my daughter’s house.  And it seems that I no sooner have a key made than my daughter sends someone to borrow it.  So if I drove the girls home in my car, we could get through the gate but might not be able to get into the house.  

Believe me, at this point if I hadn’t already decided I had a few thousands words to say to my daughter when she got home, this would have been the final straw.

We pulled into my driveway and the 6-year-old said, “Gramma, why don’t you just get the clicker from your car?”  I sat there behind the wheel and gaped.  Out of the mouths of babes!  (No transferring all three from car seats in the SUV to the car seats in mine.) Wow! Entering the house problem solved as well! I parked in my driveway, told the girls to stay put, went into my house, around to the garage and pulled the gate clicker off my visor. Eureka! Back we went to my daughter’s house.  Didn’t need the garage opener, after all, as the 7-year-old was gung-ho to try every key on my ring to see if she could open the front door.  Which she did while the rest of us stayed in the car and watched.  

She yelled for us to come in, and then proceeded to turn on the Christmas tree and the many other Christmas lights throughout the house so I could see them.  Special moment after all we’d been through.

When my daughter and her husband finally got home, the girls were in bed, their halos still shiny, and I laid out the whole tale, woe by woe.  My daughter looked at me and said, “Oh, I’ve been using the hand brake because the car keeps getting stuck in Park.”  Not that she’d told me that any more than she mentioned there was no gas.  I had, of course, been putting the car in Park all night.  Sigh.    

I’m not sure I’m going to the Singing Trees next year.  The memories of 2010 may haunt me forever.

~ * ~

 Sad Note:  The First Baptist Church's Singing Christmas Trees was a marvel—one year they had a real live camel!—but Covid shut it down (all those singers packed shoulder to shoulder on two towering Christmas trees).  As far as I know, the tradition has not been revived. 

Update on the Grandchildren:

The 7-year-old is closing in on a degree in Astro Engineering from UCF, with her eye on a job on the Space Coast.

The 6-year-old is on full scholarship to Stetson, though she asserts it was not her all As in high school, but her skill on the euphonium that won her the free ride.

The 4-year-old is at Florida Technical Institute, continuing both studies and flight training in her goal to be a commercial pilot.

~ * ~

 This Week's Featured Book:

 Regency England meets Peru.

 Miss Madeline Lacey—world traveler and spinster—is a far cry from the other young ladies making their debut in London society. But instead of wilting into an aging wallflower, she attracts the attention of a wealthy country gentleman and a newly made rough-around-the-edges earl. Except one lacks an adventurous spirit and the other is allegedly betrothed to the daughter of a marquess. And then there is the problem of what to do with the many artifacts Miss Lacey's father accumulated during eighteen years of exploration, as well as the deep, dark secret that Miss Lacey is not as penniless as society assumes. Disaster looms as sheer stubbornness on the part of both hero and heroine threatens the possibility of Happily Ever After.

~ * ~

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

For Blair's Facebook Author Page, click here.*

 

For recent blogs, scroll down. For Archives, see the menu on the right.

 

Thanks for stopping by,

 Grace (Blair Bancroft)  

A Cautionary Tale, Part 1

 

 

Photo by Ann Kone out her window in Brooklyn, NY, early February 2025

 

The grandgirls around the age they were in story below

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bridesmaids at their babysitter's wedding, 10 years later

I began Grace's Mosaic Moments in January 2011 with a 2-part blog about something I had experienced only a few weeks earlier. The story—true in every detail—is the epitome of how what should have been a simple act was compounded by a series of minor incidents into a Perfect Storm of Aggravation and Grandmotherly Distress. I mean, all I was supposed to do was drive my three grandgirls home from a Christmas program at First Baptist Church in Orlando (on the west side of Orlando when we lived on the east side).

Uh, huh . . .  

Even if you've read this before, you might want to look again and be reminded how easy it is for things to go wrong, particularly if you are responsible for children or grandchildren. 

Below, please find A Cautionary Tale, Part 1:

 My daughter is a blonde.  She is also CEO of a Real Estate Investment company.  This does not mean she does not have blonde moments.  

Each Christmas my daughter and her husband take the extended family (about fifteen relatives and employees) to First Baptist Orlando’s Singing Christmas Trees, a truly superb presentation in a church that seats about 5000.  This year, my son-in-law also bought tickets on the same night for a concert in downtown Orlando. So it was arranged that I would drive their three girls, ages 4, 6 & 7, home in my daughter's SUV, while she and her husband drove directly to the concert in downtown Orlando. Sounds simple, right? I even had help from others in the group to get all three little ones into my daughter’s SUV through the crush of 5000 people attempting to leave at the same time.  So far, so good.  

By the time the girls were settled into their seat belts, there weren’t many cars left in the lot.  I buckled up, started the engine . . . and the car didn’t move.  I tried again.  No movement.  My daughter had set the hand brake in flat-as-a-pancake Florida?  I looked where the hand brake is on my car.  Nothing.  I looked where the brake was on my old car.  Nothing.  It was, by the way, nearly pitch black in the parking lot.  The 7-year-old put on the overhead light for me, but I still couldn’t see any hand brake.  

I got out of the car and called to the one couple still walking toward their car.  They kindly came over, but they too could not find the hand brake.  By this time people were getting into the car in front of me.  We had a five-way consultation, the two couples and I, and the husband of the new couple gave it a try.  Took him about ten seconds, while the rest of us stood by, red-faced.  I like to think he was more familiar with a Honda SUV than I was. With profuse thanks to all, I climbed in.  At last we could go home.

Figuring the couple who had been parked in front of me knew the way out better than I did, I followed them.   Which took us out a different way than we’d come in.  (Oops.)  No problem, just turn right and right and . . . except in all the traffic I ended up in a Left Turn Only lane.  (Double oops.)  After two or three blocks I figured I’d better make another right and right and hopefully end up on the road I should have been on in the first place.  Except . . .

We were instantly in a residential area, and that’s when I had time to glance at the dashboard and notice the Gas Light was on.  Houses, houses everywhere, and not a sign of a thoroughfare with a gas station.  And at that dire point, the 7-year-old said, “Gramma, do you know where we are?”

Uh, no.  But of course I didn’t say so.  I just kept doubling back until I saw—oh, joy—a stoplight.  And at the intersection, a GAS STATION.  Before pulling up to the pump, I tried calling both my daughter and my son-in-law.  I was not happy!  Lucky them, their phones were off.  They were enjoying their concert at the new Amway Arena.

The children, fortunately, knew which side the gas tank was on, so we managed to pull up with the pump on the correct side.  I popped out, stuck in my credit card, and the silly machine wanted to know if it was a debit card.  When I said no, it cancelled the transaction.  I tried again.  Same result.  To say my blood pressure was soaring would be putting it mildly.  There I was with three small children in the car, and I had to go INSIDE.  Fortunately, we were right in front of the door.  I told the children to stay put and dashed inside, where the attendant managed the transaction while I kept looking out the glass door.  

Put ten dollars worth of gas in my daughter’s car and headed out, the children completely angelic or I might have lost myself along with the car.  We did a couple more turns, looking for lots of lights signaling a major road.  And there it was.  Kirkman, the road that runs past Universal Studios.  I was so turned around by this time that I simply chose a direction, knowing either north or south would lead me to a major east-west road that would take us home.  And, sure enough, in less than a mile there it was, the 408, Orlando’s East-West Expressway.  Yay, hurray!

But, no, this isn’t the end of the story.  The night’s “annoyances” will be continued in my next post on Friday, January 21, 2011.

~ * ~

Featured Book:

The so-called Hero in Menace at Lincourt Manor is possibly the least likable of all my main male characters. Descended from an aristocracy older than England's, he tends to be overly arrogant, oblivious to his wife's needs, possibly even uncaring. I am happy to say he manages to redeem himself, but it's touch and go 'til it's almost too late.

 Violet Larrabee, a merchant's daughter born in India, achieves her greatest dream, marrying the man she has loved since childhood (the great-grandson of a Bengali rajah), only to have her world plunge into a succession of nightmares. Abandoned by an all-too-busy husband, she must cope with a dilapidated house, hostile servants, and a succession of escalating events that culminate in multiple murders. Murders that might possibly have been committed by her husband.

Violet faces her problems with courage and determination, seldom faltering as she proves herself far from the shy, shrinking flower for which she was named. Until, with the solution to her problems almost at hand, a dramatic stumble nearly puts an end to her life and all possibility of Happily Ever After. 

~ * ~

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

For Blair's Facebook Author Page, click here.*

 

For recent blogs, scroll down. For Archives, see the menu on the right.

 

Thanks for stopping by,

 Grace (Blair Bancroft)  

Need a Good Insult?

 

No Caption Needed

The absolutely brilliant photo below was taken in Pensacola by Dan Dunn during the record-setting snowfall in Florida's Panhandle (10"). Previous record:  4"
 

~ * ~

While searching through my personal files for a Choir file that needed updating, I ran across a title that made my eyes pop. It is likely something that turned up on Facebook, but so long ago I forgot I saved it. And as far as I can remember, I have never used it. But in these times when practically everyone I know is grinding his/her teeth—when it looks as if Democracy has been replaced by Dictatorship in less than ten days—we need a more unique way to express our displeasure. Well, here are some ways to do just that. (Sorry, no attribution given.)

INSULTS WORTH READING

                                  

These  insults are from an era “before” the English language got boiled down to 4-letter words.

 1. "He had delusions of adequacy ” Walter Kerr
 2. "He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.”- Winston Churchill
3. "I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure. - Clarence Darrow
4. "He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.”-William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway)
5. "Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?"- Ernest Hemingway (about William Faulkner)
6. "Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I'll waste no time reading it.” - Moses Hadas
7. "I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.” - Mark Twain
8. "He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.” - Oscar Wilde
 9. "I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend, if you have one.”   -George Bernard Shaw to Winston Churchill
10. "Cannot possibly attend first night, will attend second... if there is one.” - Winston Churchill, in response
11. "I feel so miserable without you; it's almost like having you here” - Stephen Bishop
12. "He is a self-made man and worships his creator.” - John Bright
13. "I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing trivial.” - Irvin S. Cobb
 14. "He is not only dull himself; he is the cause of dullness in others.” - Samuel Johnson
 15. "He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up. -  Paul Keating
16. "He loves nature in spite of what it did to him.” - Forrest Tucker
17.  "Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?” - Mark Twain
18. "His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork.” - Mae West
19. "Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go.” - Oscar Wilde
20. "He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts... for support rather than illumination.” - Andrew Lang (1844-1912)
21. "He has Van Gogh's ear for music.” - Billy Wilder
22. "I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But I'm afraid this wasn't it.” - Groucho Marx
23. The exchange between Winston Churchill & Lady Astor: She said, "If you were my husband I'd give you poison." He said, "If you were my wife, I'd drink it."
24. "He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know." - Abraham Lincoln
25. "There's nothing wrong with you that reincarnation won't cure." -- Jack E.  Leonard
26. "They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human knowledge." --  Thomas Brackett Reed
27. "He inherited some good instincts from his Quaker forebears, but by diligent hard work, he overcame them." -- James Reston (about Richard Nixon)

~ * ~

Inside Info on Grace's (Blair Bancroft's)s latest book. 

As anyone who has read The Abandoned Daughter may have guessed, I grew very fond of the major who suffered from what we now call PTSD. So much so that I built on that character to create the hero of my next book. I was planning on another Gothic with multiple phantoms; in fact, my book sections are headed, Phantom 1, Phantom 2 . . . Except my reincarnation of Major Benedict Hawley refused to take back seat to a bunch of ethereal characters, no matter how long they might have been lurking in Lark House, Wiltshire, not far from Stonehenge. New title: The Stone Soldier and the Lady. (Nor is the lady a shy miss who kowtows to either ghosts or hardened spies.)

So, if you haven't yet read The Abandoned Daughter, a Mystery/Adventure/Romance set in Bath, you might want to check it out so you can appreciate the transformation of Major Benedict Hawley to British spy, Captain Hugh Fox.
 

 Isabelle Bainbridge—abandoned by her gamester father, leery of the young lord who claims he is rescuing her—is more than a little surprised to find herself employed as companion to his grandmother in Bath, who treats her more like a ward than an employee. A near idyllic situation, until Isabelle discovers a young woman's body floating in the Kennet & Avon canal—an alleged suicide—soon followed by a series of murders that shake the tranquility of the beautiful city known as a refuge for the elderly and infirm.
Although Isabelle is determined to despise her rescuer—the viscount who won her home in a game of cards—she is forced to rely on him as she is stalked and it becomes apparent she may be next on the killer's list. There are several surprises, as well as moments of terror, before this Gothic adventure finds its happy ending.

~ * ~

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

For Blair's Facebook Author Page, click here.*

 

For recent blogs, scroll down. For Archives, see the menu on the right.

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft)