My granddaughter is visiting this week and we’re having some cousin fun with my nieces. Going to rerun some of my favorite blogs so I can devote myself to her this week. Happy reading! New blogs start Friday morning.

Back home today, pondering in the swing. The sky is maya blue as I sit down in the swing. I put the color chart up against the sky and it matched perfectly. The color of water is considered maya blue. Gonna be bold and call the clouds stratus clouds. They are quickly coloring over my blue sky. The breeze is cool but not strong enough to cue the wind chimes into joining the bird singing symphony.

The funniest thing just happened! I heard a woodpecker drumming on the oak tree and when I looked up to see where he was, part of the rotten limb he was hammering on fell off the tree. I had just been standing there earlier filling up a feeder. Almost hit Fatty. He quickly scampered away. That would have given me a big headache!

My yard is full of birds, plus Fatty, stuffing himself under the feeders. I think my birds have missed me! A male cardinal perched on the porch railing and watched me for a minute. A wren sat on the swing chain trying to decide who to fuss at next. I think I’m first on the list. And a titmouse sat on the scuppernong trellis and we studied each other for a minute. That little bird looked right in my eyes. His bright eyes were so dark and intelligent. I wonder if he was curious about where I have been.

I have an old wheelbarrow full of pansies near the bird feeders and when I glanced over at the wheelbarrow the handles were full of yellow goldfinches. Looked like they were going to push the wheelbarrow away. Course they all flew when I tried to sneak a photo of them. I moved over to the other swing and again a male cardinal sat on the bannister and watched me. Might be Chief because they say cardinals are sent from heaven.

Today is Chief’s 88th birthday. If he was with us I’d have a big chocolate cake on the dining room table and a new gallon off vanilla ice cream in the freezer. The table would be set with presidential china and Waterford crystal. The candles would be waiting for their matches. There would be a basket full of garden plants mixed in with seed potatoes and some onion sets. There would be envelopes with gift certificates to Awbrey’s and Abernathy’s, his favorite farm stores.

He would always tell us about his favorite birthday cake on his birthdays. When he was a little boy he saw a picture in a magazine of a birthday cake with white icing and orange slice candies on top. He asked his mama to make the cake and he was thrilled when he saw the birthday cake.

I met Chief in 1979 at a job interview with Russell Corporation. He was editor of the company’s then 60 page monthly newspaper. He immediately stood up when I entered his office. Always a gentleman with true Southern manners. He never failed to open the car door for me even when he had trouble walking around the car. Manners were just ingrained in him.

After the interview he asked me if I drank coffee. I said no and he seriously said, “I don’t know if we can work together if you don’t drink coffee. How do you write without drinking coffee?” We worked together for almost 30 years and I made two, sometimes three pots of coffee a day, every day, for him and never drank a drop. Years later I discovered I liked a little coffee with my sugar and creamer and became hooked on coffee, too.

Before the interview he told me the Russell construction crew had tied him to a wrecking ball that morning and hoisted him up so he could photograph the installation of an atrium at the new sales office. Seems so out of character for him. I’ve wondered how he took a photograph and holding on, reached for the little notepad he always had in his pocket for notes. Sometimes he’d come back from some event and tear those little pages out of the notepad and hand them to me to write the article. We worked together so well together lots of people didn’t even realize we were married.

I believe he had a photographic memory. If someone wanted a copy of something that had been printed in the paper, he always remembered which year and issue it was in and could usually remember which side of the page it was printed on. He was a perfectionist in his work and labored over his monthly column till I’d lie and tell him the Print Shop had to have the column that day. He always covered all the activities of all three shifts of the mills even when the plant managers told him they weren’t coming to the third shift activities and he didn’t have to come either. Chief always told them all three shifts were equally important and we did our best to equally represent the shifts. He walked around in the mills so much they called him, “The man with the camera.” And most of them knew he carried a little notepad.

I think Chief would be described as compassionate and tender hearted, and kind and gentle, and generous to a fault. He always fought for the underdog to win. He was a great storyteller and a great teacher. He was intelligent and loved reading encyclopedias. He had a child’s curiosity for knowing people. He loved growing things and saving seeds. He recycled plastic bottles and aluminum cans. He loved the history and architecture of state courthouses and capitol buildings. He hated air conditioning and could never tell a joke. He didn’t appreciate technology and typed on a manual typewriter. He’d catch crickets in the house and take them outside. He loved his clowder of cats and our little dog Penelope. He could identify only two song birds, cardinals and mocking birds.

He loved and worshiped our children and when our daughter died, her death knocked him down to to his knees. Our faith in God and our love for each other helped him stand back up.

You could never have a more faithful friend than Tom Byron. He was a passionate man, a gentle man, and always in all circumstances, a gentleman.