LaFern Stiver Archives

September 24, 2020

Hair Apparent

When I got to thinking about it, I calculated that I hadn’t had a haircut since sometime in February. You can click on the photos to make them larger, but I’m not sure I’d encourage that.

It was already getting serious in May

I took this silhouette going down the basement staircase on May 14, 2020. I bought myself some time (I thought) by wearing a cap everywhere.

St. Louis Shari and Jim Stone

Ten years ago, high school friends Shari Stiver and Jim Stone came to Cape for an impromptu visit. They both returned to Cape last week, my first visitors since the lockdown this spring. Unfortunately, they missed each other by a day.

She was my first girlfriend. Like so many first romances, this one didn’t end well. I think you could use phrases like “crash and burn,” “down in flames” and “train wreck” to describe my reaction to the inevitable breakup. We spoke only when absolutely necessary for the rest of our high school careers and, not at all for the next 40 or so years.

Jim was the one who convinced me that I needed to escape Cape or I’d be a One-Shot Frony forever. I followed him to Ohio University my junior year.

“Can you use the round scissors?”

Shari, who I knew more for her cutting tongue than her tonsorial talents wanted to know why I hadn’t gone for a haircut.

I explained that I hadn’t peeked in the window to check out my regular barber’s safety protocols, so I wasn’t taking any chances.

She claimed that she was an accomplished hair chopper, and her mother, LaFern Stiver, vouched for her.

Won over, I gave her the OK, but I preferred that she use the safe-to-run-with rounded-end scissors. She demanded that we go shopping for some scarier ones.

‘Taper, taper, taper’

With much trepidation, I allowed myself to be strapped into a chair in the living room, with a towel clipped around my neck. “Wife Lila always says I’m supposed to tell the barber, ‘Taper, taper, taper.’ I don’t know what that means, but I always say it.”

“I do, and I will,” Shari promised, as she started waving the scissors around, eventually causing enough hair to fall on the towel to knit a small kitten.

I hopped onto a Zoom session the other night, and Wife Lila, unprompted, said, “Nice haircut.” Nice to have her approval (or the image was fuzzy).

September 19, 2020

Two Sunsets in One Day

St. Louis Shari and her mother, LaFern, and I were headed down Highway 74 south of Cape when I suddenly whipped off to the side of the road with my four-way flashers blinking.

“What’s the matter?” LaFern asked, with some concern in her voice.

“Never mind,” replied Shari, shaking her head. “That’s just what he does.”

I took 49 frames, but, as is so often the case, the first shot was the best. (You can click on it to make it larger.)

An unwelcome message

Moments later, my phone gave a chime, followed by a robot lady, who toned, “You have a text message from Lila Steinhoff.” There was a pause while she interpreted Lilaese, then, “I am just sick. Ginsberg died.”

“Crap” is all I could say.

We continued on down to Advance where the El Mexicano restaurant had more cars and people than I had ever seen before. We elected for carryout.

We killed time waiting for our order by driving around Advance, a town that was almost as dark as my mood.

October 18, 2019October 18, 2019

Pine(coning) Away for Mother

Pine Cones and Memories of Mother

I ran across a couple things that stuck me this week during what would have been Mother’s 98th Birthday Season. We’ll get to them in a second.

Back in 2014, Mother and I went trekking for pine cones that we could use as fire starters. She took to it like a kid on Easter morning.

Today, I took Road Warriorette Shari and her mother, Senior Honorary Road Warriorette LaFern, to an undisclosed location for a similar hunt. (“If anybody asks what we’re doing, tell them we’ve been sentenced to community service,” I told them.)

When we were through, I said we’d make a side trip over to New Lorimier Cemetery to wish Mother a Happy Birthday with a pair of our pine cones. I mean, flowers are so ordinary.

Gregory Lincoln’s Thoughts

Gregory A. Lincoln administrator of Facebook’s Cape Rewound, a popular group with 5,311 members (and counting) recently lost his mother. He shared this with the group:

Sitting in my bed enjoying the pretty full moon shine through my bedroom window. 🙂. It’s been a very rough weekend. It’s hard to imagine her gone. All my life she was very tough and fought death and seem to always win except that final battle. I don’t understand. I assume it’s a battle we will all lose sooner or later. I guess she knew in her heart it was her time. Her birthday is approaching so please excuse me if I share a memory, a photograph or heart touching song.

About the same time, I was sorting stuff that had buried my desk, deciding what I wanted to keep, and what would be good fireplace fodder now that the weather is turning chilly.

Memories Sneak Out of My Eyes

In the stack was a letter from Brother Mark. It was a rambling thing, all full of non sequiturs and whimsy. On the last page, in the last paragraph before reaching a photo of Mother in one of her signature red coats, he wrote, “As I find myself at the bottom of the page, I couldn’t decide which to end with, so you get both. Put it in context, if you will.

“My memory loves you; it asks about you all the time.”

and

“Sometimes memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.”

July 21, 2013July 21, 2013

Snakes Alive!

I have a number of places I take visitors and friends for a ramble. A week or so ago, I took Friend Shari and her mother, LaFern, on a ride that paused at Horseshoe Lake near Olive Branch, Ill.

The little park and spillway at the south end of the lake is almost always pretty. Shari stopped to use the restroom – it’s an outhouse, but Friend Claire pronounced it acceptable on our visit last year. Shari also gave it a passing grade.

While she was otherwise occupied, LaFern and I checked out the spillway. I saw a huge fish chasing minnows as soon as I got there, but he disappeared, never to be seen again on this visit.

There were plenty of turtles, including a softshell with a neck a foot long who was snurfulling along the top of the water until he spotted us.

Snake

This guy cruised by to the base of the spillway, then disappeared. His coloring and rounded head makes me believe he was harmless.

Moccasin, maybe?

I was less sure about this one. His body was thicker and his head was more triangular. I was ready to label him a water moccasin. Either way, I wasn’t about to dip my toe in the water.

I’m happier with turtles

I was happier to see a batch of turtles looking like they were playing on a seesaw. I count at least five on this log. (You can click on the images to make them larger.)

Ernie Chiles and I rode our bikes around the lake in 2009.