Sasebone

Alzheimer's, the thief!

2011-05-17T14:38:00.000-07:00

When did it happen? Was this the reason, a few years back, you announced to me with a sly grin, “I’m not cooking anymore!” I thought you were kidding, but you weren’t. You went on to say that you have cooked all your life and you figure it’s about time you quit. I didn’t question it; however I was sad I wouldn’t be eating your cooking anymore, and figured it was a passing stage, but in retrospect I did notice you were requesting fast foods more and more. We just assumed this as a passing phase of life.

Then, we noticed you didn’t change clothes quite so much, but you always did wear the same things over and over, so again, you fooled us. I’m sure you knew something was wrong. If we deny negatives, they will go away! It would turn around - - something would happen and you would realize it was just a fluke. When, did it happen that you realized something was dreadfully wrong with your memory? Did you have an inkling it was possibly the same disease that plagued your brother Jack? Was it the same thing dad’s sweet sister, Opha, and their grandmother had? I wish you had told us you suspected you had the same disease so we could have prepared. Prepare! Is there ever a way you can prepare for an eraser in the brain?

Kathy and I thought perhaps your loss of memory was stress related when we finally admitted something was amiss. We asked everyone to move out of your house to make a calmer home for you. Your memory kept erasing! Now, when we came to visit you were wearing layers of clothes. You would shiver and say you were cold, even on hot days. You sat and watched ballgame after ballgame with dad (a first), and something women who hate sports would never do when in their right mind! You were always hungry, eating constantly, but never really gaining weight. I wish we had known, but what could we have done? Alzheimer’s is the culprit from hell!

I have prayed for your healing, looked up every research topic I can find on the Internet; tried to think of ways to mend your erased memory and bring it back up like a Smart Board - - replug, reload, activate, blast off, but nothing is working; although one day recently Kathy and I took you to the Sonic in Gunter and fed you ice cream and a real coke and you came more alive that we had seen you in months. We thought perhaps we had found the cure - - Caffeine! Wouldn’t that be such a simple cure? I wish? We love you and who you are, who you were, memory or no memory, it just pains us in the heart and our own brains to see you this way. Our once strong mom who cared for EVERYONE and now she, herself, needs to be cared for. I only wish we could turn back the hands of time!

A Tribute to Dad

2011-03-21T18:57:00.000-07:00

Dad, I remember no matter what happened over the years you always said, "I love my beautiful bride". At the end of your life you and mom had your final hours together, though it was not at home and that I regret, but you were together.

I worked so hard to get you and mom in the same nursing home where you could Rehab and be cared for, and she could be there with you day and night. Dad, you worked hard that first day to get your land legs back. You lost the strength in your legs during your short stay at the hospital when you were diagnosed with pneumonia. I stopped by Homestead to visit with you. You were so tired! "I worked hard today so I can get back home.", you stated. I didn't say anything and you said, "Mom's worse isn't she, but if I can't go home I want to die."

We knew you were sick but you always rebounded. We were hoping for that same scenario again. This time that miracle was not to happen. Your desire was to live to care for mom--"my beautiful bride" of nearly 68 years. I started working on getting her to Homestead so you two could be together.

Mom spent 2 nights in the clinical decision unit and 3 nights at Wysongs. The last night she was at Wysongs, the nurse at Homestead came into your room and said you had to go to the hospital because you were in critical condition. Mom was to come the next day. You said, "No hospital, and no dialysis." I backed you up, knowing mom was coming. The nurse went to her station to record this information and see if you were going to be allowed to remain at Homestead rather than have an ambulance take you back to the hospital. I went down to the nursing station and asked her what was going on. She told you were in critical condition, but "bottom line" it was your decision to make. You stayed waiting for mom to get there.

Wes and Randi were there to receive mom at Homestead. Chick and I had driven Holly to a facility where she would live for one year to get her own life back. Holly was such a help with mom and dad while she was here. I hated to see my daughter leave us at that time, but knew she needed this "breath of a new life" for herself. It would be a selfish act on my part to keep her here though she offered to stay. Kathy had to work that day.

Dad,even though you were so sick when mom arrived at Homestead, you raised up on your elbow saying, "There is my beautiful bride." Randi captured the kiss on her camera- -yours and mom's last picture together in life. This was March 1, 2011

Dad never did get better, on March 6, 2011 he left his family. By accident we were all there, never dreaming it was to be his last day. He seemed to be in such deep pain and unable to stay awake and visit with any of us. The past two days he had mostly slept, would not eat, would not drink, and grimaced with pain and groaned. Mom sat by his bed all day rubbing his arm. March 6, 2011 she went outside of the home, the staff called it an elopement. It may have been too much for her to handle to watch dad so sick. Kathy and I arrived by 3:30 p.m.

Kathy forgot to give Colton his key to the apartment; she texted him to come by Homestead to get it. I texted Laura to come since I couldn't get hold of Wes;and texted Melissa to let her know dad was in really bad shape. Laura arrived; Wes and Harry arrived, Melissa and Francesca arrived. We were there when dad's soul lifted from his earthly body and floated around us and then on to heaven. Mom had told him the day before just as clear as she ever talked, "I hate to see you go!", but she knew he was in pain and indicated (in her way) he could be released from his worldly responsibilities.

Good-bye dad, we love you forever!

Bee Hives

2011-01-27T08:15:00.000-08:00

What a unique name for a hair do that clearly resembles a "bee hive" in the swirly way it is teased about 10 inches from the base of the skull. It was the rage in the early 60's. According to my research it was inspired by a hat owned by Margaret Vinci Heldt. She was the creator of the beehive hair style and was being honored on January 7, 2011 on the 50th birthday of the hair style. This hairstyle lasted a decade and we all suffered from the style.

I remember my bee hive! I was one of the girls who made a weekly appointment to get that lovely hairstyle. I went for my weekly style at one of the local beauty salons. Pam Hamilton and her sister, Vicki, plus a few other hair stylists have put up many a bee hive for me. I have the fondest memories of the bee hive up-do. Here are a few I'll share with you.

When the bee hive first came into vogue I immediately had mine done. I loved it, it was lacquered and hard as a rock, but I was so in! It stayed up until we chiseled it down each week. I learned to do what everyone else did, scratch your scalp with a pencil being careful not to mess the hive up. How could it move? You could be in a Hurricane and your clothes blow off, but yet, the beehive would still stand!

I had a beehive on my wedding day. The veil pretty much covered it in the wedding pictures. The hair never moved, not one strand, throughout the honeymoon and possible 48, nearly 49 years later if I hadn't washed my hair, it would still be standing. I did learn you had to wrap the style in toilet paper before going to bed so I bought colored paper the color of my negligee's so it would look more like a turban and pinned a brooch type pin in the front with some of the hair sticking out.

One night I had wrapped about a roll of toilet paper around my hair when the door bell rang. I peeked out and it was our friends from Hillsboro. Quickly I unwrapped my hair (about 15 minutes) and went to the door to greet them. They had their 4 children and their dog with them. Later we ran out of toilet paper and I had to give up my pink paper for the other end of the anatomy for our guests. Always the hostess!

I recall another time when I left my "real" Christmas tree up until February. I came home and decided it was time to take it down. Oh my gosh - can we say PORCUPINE????? I had bleeding fingers from removing the ornaments and when I pulled the fire hazard, dried out tree through the narrow living room door, barbs flew every where. For days after that I was picking out pine needles from my beehive.

My sister in law called me and told me about a job I would enjoy. It was my chance to get on where she worked and where some of my friends worked. I must look my best so I went to the Beauty shop for a bee hive redo and the beautician put this blue stuff called Roux Rinse on my hair to tone down the blond. When they finished with me, I looked in the mirror and my hair was the color of lavender. I went through so much getting this style; we were poor and I was shy-- too shy to speak up. I just went home with Lavender hair hoping it would tone down by morning.
The day came for my job interview at State Farm Insurance. I thought I looked fantastic, but did notice the lady who interviewed me kept looking at my hair. A couple of weeks later I received word that the position I applied for wasn't a glamorous job - - file clerk. I was embarrassed years later when I think upon it, but also it makes me laugh to know what a young wet behind the ears girl I was then, 19 years old with no clue how to dress for an interview!

Then came the time I was helping move a piano from my mom's house and had a new white fur jacket on and, you guessed it-- my bee hive hairstyle. The truck we were transporting the piano on got stuck in the mud. I tried to help push the truck out of the rut, and the tires spun around throwing mud up on my fur jacket and yes, my bee hive! Can we say dripping?

When our older daughter Angie was about 3 years old we carved her a pumpkin for Halloween, and yes, I was still sporting a bee hive hair style in 1968 (still popular) and I arrived home wearing my new blue trench coat when I spotted the rotten pumpkin still sitting on the air conditioner in our front room window. It looked sad, sort of leaning to the left a lot. Maybe because we were already in the middle of November. I scooted the trash barrel around to the front of the house while complaining to myself. I placed the can right below the porch and the oozy jack-o-lantern was dropped from about 3 feet to the trash. Plop! It exploded and blew up all down the front of my new blue trench coat. Strings of rotten pumpkin and seeds were dripping from my bee hive!

Later, the shag hairstyle came into vogue; I was free at last--no more bee hive for me! Last night while watching the news the latest and greatest bee hive is coming back! I hope Charmin still makes colored toilet paper!

A Christmas Surprise-2009

2010-12-10T10:57:00.000-08:00

Two sisters felt defeated, beaten down; couldn’t pull up the Christmas Spirit no matter how hard they tried. It was a clear, beautiful day filled with sunshine, but a cloud hung over the sisters hearts as they desperately tried to revive the spirit of Christmas from long ago before their family fell apart.

The evening of the day was drawing near, when they decided to pull over at a little community lake and just lay back in the van to feel the days last rays of sunlight on their faces hoping for some solace on their souls. Joggers’ braved the cold of that December day, running with the ear buds of their IPOD’s in their ears, only seeing what was in front of them to accomplish their weary, daily tasks. No one seemed to notice the two sisters sitting in the van wishing for a miracle to lift them out of their funk.

The golden and red leaves of yesterday’s trees, which only a month ago surrounded the lake were now gone, the day seemed starkly wintry and cold. The sisters sat in silence and rested not speaking; suddenly out of the corner of their eyes they both caught some motion which started at the West end of the lake. They stared in that direction - watching, waiting, and wondering. What was it?

It was birds! Nothing unusual at the lake, however these birds were paddling up the lake, closer, and closer to the van when suddenly they started spreading their wings. These were not the typical ducks in the lake, these were majestic geese,rising, lifting,and honking as they passed by the two sisters in the van. The geese dappled the sparkling water with the tips of their wings, dipping from side to side in unison, as they glided directly in front of the vehicle, rising in a perfectly formed V. The sisters felt such wonder as they watched the geese until they were out of sight.

Sadness fell like a stone from their shoulders. Through nature God had given the message to two sisters to rise up from this gloom and lift off. An unexpected gift had been given to them as joy welled up in their hearts.

When someone loved becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure

2010-10-11T11:37:00.000-07:00

Of all the memories I have of my sweet friend, Janell, this one stands out in my mind. First of all, I have to move backwards in order to go forward. This was way back when my girls, Holly and Angie, were still living at home.

My older daughter, Angie, has always had a passion for animals. Our daughters both were animal lovers and over the years they would pick up strays and bring them home. Angie had achieved what every teen wants: a driver's license. She was 16 and her sister was 8 years old. Angie was her sister's babysitter and would keep my car most days, during the lazy summer of 1982, so they could go to Juanita's Maxfield's swimming pool and other places. They picked me up at 5 p.m. every day after I finished with my work day.

I was looking out the window, waiting to be picked up when I saw not one head, not two, but three heads in the car. Of course when someone is sitting in the car all you can see is their head. The 3rd head was a very red hairy looking character. Ummmm! As I walked to the car I saw Angie slide over to the passenger seat while I opened the door and took the wheel. The very hairy redhead I had viewed from the window had a very hairy body connected to it. The hairy head had a pink tongue that was dripping saliva at an amazing rate. The mutt, I was looking at with disdain, had crusty eyes, and was very skinny. Angie was performing her sales speech at a very rapid rate, and I wasn't buying into it. She and Holly had, on a whim, been to the city pound to find themselves a pet.

I said, "Angie, we are not keeping that mangy, sore eyed, skinny dog! You have to take it back to the pound tomorrow. It could have rabies or some dog disease, and besides you didn't ask our permission." Angie looked sad, "but mom, we went out there to just look and she came right to us as though she knew us. It was meant to be - - besides she is a great dog." I came back at her with a firm, "No, tomorrow she goes back to the pound as soon as you drop me off at work, end of story!"

However, it wasn't the end of the story. I happened to glance back in the rear view mirror as this dog laid her head on my shoulder. I locked eyes with hers. This dog had the most expressive, kind, loving human eyes I had ever seen, and she was smiling at me. Yes, smiling! Before I drove up in our driveway, I said to my girls, "Well, I think this dog looks like her name should be Sally." Sally she became!

A little over a year later Angie married her childhood sweetheart Bill, and left our home, but Sally stayed. We moved to Fairview and our dog loved having all the space to freely roam about, chasing rabbits, squirrels and birds on the acreage. Our driveway was about 2 acres long and she would run up that driveway when she heard our cars coming up the road. She would be running along with her ears flopping behind her and her pink tongue lolling out to the side of her smiling mouth. She would beat the car to the house and proceed to wait for us. She loved us and we loved her. She was part Irish Setter and mutt!

Over time our friend Janell moved in with us. Sally loved Janell as much as she loved us, and Janell loved her. Sally added Janell to the car following, tail wagging, tongue lolling daily ritual. Janell always leaned down to pet and talk to her - - a partnership was born.

One day, Sally failed to meet my car, and I wondered where she was. I found her lying in the garage looking lethargic. She lifted her head and smiled and tried to get up, but couldn't. We worried she might have been hit by a car. We checked her all over. She didn't wince or act like anything was broken or out of place, but it was all she could do to drag herself to the grass next to the garage to relieve herself. She drank water from our cupped hands. My husband carried her to the vet who ran tests and diagnosed Sally with advanced heart worms. He said it was too late to treat her with medications and suggested it was best to have her euthanized or take her home and let her live out her final days.

Every day Janell would stop and place her hands on Sally's frail body and pray for healing. Sally continued to smile at us and wag her tail, but laid there. Janell never passed by her that she didn't stop and lay hands on her and say a simple prayer of healing. One day I told Janell to save her prayers because Sally wasn't going to make it. She continued to pray.

Not long after we brought her home, I was driving up our drive when out of the corner of my eye I saw a red blur. Did I see what I thought I saw? I looked again. It was Sally running down the driveway to meet me; her ears flopping, her tongue lolling and her tail propelling her along. She was her old self. I choked up with tears of joy. Our woman of Faith, Janell, prayed the prayer of faith and Sally understood. Janell believed it could happen. Sally lived in good health for two more years. What a gift!

Recently Janell, who had been having the best time of her life, called me to let me know she was diagnosed with cancer. We didn't have any fear. We both knew she would conquer this - - our Faith and hers would prevail. A short time later, Janell went home and her healing was complete. I believe when Janell walked into God's light she saw a red blur named Sally, with her tail wagging, pink tongue lolling, big dog smile, running to greet Janell on September 28, 2010, as they moved forward to the gates of their heavenly home.

Remembrances by Dad 7/7/10

2010-07-21T16:23:00.000-07:00

When I was a young man of 16, my brother came home from boot camp to Hosmer, Indiana. He was 18 years old at the time. He pulled off his uniform and hung it up on a hanger, on a nail in the wall. I admired that uniform, and couldn't wait to try it on. It just fit. As I looked in the mirror I saw a boy transform into a man, handsome and mature; visions of travel, women, money to send home.... I couldn’t get those thoughts out of my head. All I could think about was going to the Air Force; wearing a snazzy uniform like George’s. What did I have to lose? At the time I was a sophomore in high school, on a fast train going no where. Mom was having a difficult time trying to raise the last two children, me and Dot, and this would free her up somewhat. But I'm ahead of my story, let me backtrack a few years.

Henry Price, my dad, had a stroke and was unable to work the farm for 3 years. He died a young man in 1935, and the 36 acre farm work was left up to me, my sister, Dorothy, my brother George and our mom. Our grandfather, George Alstadt, moved in the farm house with us and continued the farming along with our help. In 1938 he got sick and died. We didn’t know what we were going to do, mom did the best she could as a single woman; when the taxes came due on the farm - -a house, a barn and 38 acres of land, we just didn't have it to pay. My older sister Opha and her husband, Ishmael, pulled together the tax money, approximately $200 or less to save the farm and now they had bought the farm- - lock, stock and barrel. Opha, Ishmael, and their baby, Dickie, took possession of the farm in 1939.

My brother George left home. He moved to town to live with my sister Delores and her family. While there he met a neighbor girl, and as passion would have it - soon she was pregnant with his child. Delores and her husband, Clark, told George to go enlist in the service to get out of this responsibility. He evidently didn’t want to marry the girl and this was his way out. He enlisted in the military service, and was gone for 6 years. As for me, I couldn’t get the thoughts of how good I looked in that uniform of George’s after he left. I decided I was going to the service. It was 1941 and I was 16 years old. I begged mom to sign for me to go to the service. She refused. I told her I would forge her name. She gave up and signed for me. It was February 1940, winter was upon us, I immediately packed my few belongings and gathered enough money to catch a bus to Indianapolis, Indiana where I signed up and was sent to San Antonio, Texas for training. I was there for “boot camp” - - 6 months. I trained to become a medic.

My next stop was Long Beach, California and there was where I was, in my smart uniform I might add, when war broke out. I didn't buy into that, but here I was a young man treating soldiers for venereal diseases at the time. On of my clear remembrances were the Japanese famililes in Long Beach who had their businesses shut down while they and their families were rounded up, as though they had anything to do with the war, and sent to internment camps. Yes, here in the U.S.A.

My next assignment was Bakersville, California to sit all day watching the flight line. I was a medic and the pilots were training to fly. If they crashed or bailed, our group was to take care of these young pilots - - that is, if they made it out alive! My brother, George, was in the signal corps stationed in North Africa when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. By then I was flown (my first and only flights) to Palm Springs where General Patton trained his troops. I did guard duty while surrounded by the mountains. I remember being so cold in California, while I walked my guard duty time. I couldn’t get warm, but it was beautiful with the mountain backdrop -still hard for this farm boy to believe California was that cold. Then I was flown back to Bakersville. Now that we were at war, I wanted to do something more; Airline mechanics were needed. I put in my paperwork to become an airline mechanic; going to Nevada to wait for my next assignment. It was there I was to meet my future brother-in-law. Red Barnett, a young man who worked in the office. He laughed lots, was fun, and started hanging out with me and my buddies. There were about 6 or 8 of us that clicked and became pals. Red wanted to go with us to train as airline mechanics. We all were sent to Dallas, Texas. Love field!

While there we hung out at Grady’s, a little hole in the wall place to eat, drink and dance. A good place to meet girls and enjoy a cold beer. Grady’s was where Red and I met our future wives, Jimmie and Ruth Green. We were smitten! They worked at the Pickle Factory on Denton Drive and lived with Bonnie (a friend of theirs) and Katy Green, another sister.

I knew I was in love in a short time, and in war times you had to make your move fast. Jimmie’s folks lived in Van Alstyne, Texas then. I asked her to marry me. She went home on the Interurban and her dad hit the ceiling. He wanted no part of this. Grandpa wouldn’t let her come back to Dallas, so I caught the Interurban and your mom picked me up at the station in your Uncle Jack’s car or Uncle Bill’s car, can’t remember whose car now, but Othel was already married and had your cousin Don and they lived in Val Alstyne too, so I’m remembering it may have been their car. Your grandpa Green had left the house because he wasn’t going to meet me or be asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage. He wanted no part of me. Your grandma Green gave her permission for me to marry your mom. Grandma said she did the very same thing against her parent’s wishes so she wanted to bless this marriage. Eventually Grandpa Green liked me, and I was happy about that.

Elmer Dodson from Kentucky went to the Dallas Courthouse with us to get married on May 17, 1943. I went back to my barracks and your mom went back to her apartment. Our next assignment was Sioux City, Iowa. Red went too. When I sent for your mom, Red said, “Tell Jim to bring Ruth with her” when she comes. Ruth and Mom arrived in Sioux City, Iowa and they got an apartment. Red married Ruth in Sioux City, Iowa. You and Jerry (their son) were born in Sioux City, Iowa at the Catholic Hospital. You were born during a blizzard and we had to take an ambulance to the hospital. It was February, in the throes of winter. Back then a woman stayed in the hospital for 2 weeks after having a baby. Your mom’s legs were weak from being in the hospital and I had to carry her up the stairs to our apartment while Ruth carried you.

Red and I were working on airplanes, in training still. I was a crew chief and had people under me. I remember I had a sore foot and couldn’t wear a shoe. I can’t remember what I did, but standing on my feet may have been the reason my foot was sore. I just don’t remember - - too many years have passed. While we were in Sioux City I had to go to Patterson, New Jersey to learn how to change engines out in airplanes while Ruth stayed with you and your mom. When I returned I was told to go to Salina, Kansas. We took a train and rented a room in a house. I stayed 2 weeks, but didn’t know we were only staying two weeks until we got our orders and I had paid a month’s rent. We were working on the new B29’s. It was 1944. We had left Ruth and Red behind, and she was still in the hospital after giving birth to her first born, Jerry. They took possession of our apartment there because it was bigger than the one they lived in. Grandma and Grandpa Green were coming to stay with Ruth after she got home. At this point Red and Ruth no longer were in the same places we were stationed.

My next assignment was San Rafael, California. Mom went back from Kansas to Van Alstyne, Texas on the train with you. When I was settled in for my new assignment, I took the train back to Van Alstyne and rode back 3 weeks later with you and your mom. I went AWOL. I just never reported when we got back to California; however I did go on post to buy supplies and cigarettes. Our landlady reported me and I went to the guard house, lost my rank and was there for 4 months. During that time the guards took me to see you and your mom every day.

I didn’t go overseas because my only brother was over there fighting with General Patton. He was involved in setting up communication on D day. When the war was over we had $300 to start a new life. Although I was offered a job in San Rafel, we moved to McKinney Avenue in Dallas, Texas and I begin working for the meat packing plant. We had lots of ham to eat during that time. I remember one of the people who lived in the house with us (there were 5 or 6 couples living there) was named Buck Duvall. I’m sure he is dead now.

My oldest sister Opha wanted me back in Indiana and wrote me a letter to let me know International Harvester was hiring. We picked up and moved to Oakland City, Indiana and I went to work for International Harvest. We lived in an apartment connected to Dorothy and Earl Rowe's home. They had 3 children, Charlotte, Tommy and Earlene. Earlene was profoundly retarded. They were like family to us. Your mom was very homesick for her sisters, brothers and parents. By the way, the old shotgun we have was from Dorothy’s dad. To get closer to work we moved to Evansville, Indiana and lived in Gatewood Gardens for a year or two (memory escapes me). My mom, Laura Price, moved in with us to keep you until, your sister was on her way, born in 1952. We were living on Faires Avenue when we brought your sister home. We moved to Tennessee Street to a larger house and finally bought a house on Roosevelt Drive in Evansville, Indiana. I worked for International Harvester until they were bought out by Whirlpool and then the trouble began. They let go of all union workers and hired new employees. Now I was out of a job.

(to be continued)

Deja Vu

2010-05-29T07:45:00.000-07:00

I was on my way home yesterday after work when I noticed a Fairview policeman going the opposite direction. I was breathing a sigh of relief because a year ago I was pulled over for having an expired inspection sticker. Today I had no reason to fear the police pulling me over - - all my sticker's are good, I have my seatbelt on, and I'm within the speed limit. I glanced at my sticker, oh no, am I seeing correctly? It shows 4/10 and now May is nearly over. That can't be right, can it?

I look in my rearview mirror to see if there are any red lights following me. I hurry home knowing when I start worrying about things that could happen I pull the law of attraction to me. So immediately, I begin thinking about the clouds, the sky, the lottery - - anything but the fact my INSPECTION STICKER is a month out of date and I just passed the law! Not again!

Last year about this same time my inspection sticker was 6 months over due and I didn't even realize it was so far gone. I had gone to El Dorado Chevrolet for my van's routine check up and was told my inspection sticker was way overdue. I said, "What? This can't be true because my dad or my husband always lets me know ahead of time." The man from El Dorado Chevrolet says, "We can inspect it for you now." I figured they would charge an arm and a leg and I needed to take it to someone else. I said, "I'll get it done tomorrow." and left. He says I hope you don't get a ticket in the meantime.

On my way home all I can think about is I hope a policeman doesn't see this before tomorrow, and then I think, I've driven this van 6 months without anyone stopping me so why would they notice it now? I pass a Fairview police car heading South while I'm heading North towards home. Oh no, the police car is turning around. I was looking in my rearview mirror thinking, "They must be after someone else because surely my luck can't be that poor." Remember - - law of attraction? No other vehicles were on the road. I pull over and it is a police woman. I told her I just found out a few minutes ago that the sticker was out and was on my way home and then tomorrow I would get my car inspected or today if she would not give me a ticket. I showed her the paperwork I had gotten from El Dorado Chevrolet and how I had just discovered this registration sticker was out of date. She said it was my responsibility and how could I not know it was 6 months past due, that it is not El Dorado Chevrolet's, dad's or my husband's responsibility to tell me when my inspection is due. I begged her not to give me a ticket. She glanced at my blonde hair and let me go. Thank you Lord!

I drove straight to Hwy. 380 to a shop and had my van inspected right that moment, no more waiting. Someone had mercy on me, I felt so relieved and swore to myself not to let that happen again, and not to depend on a man to handle things for me from now on. I vowed then to become an independent woman and make my own way and care for my own things. I would be a WOMAN who handles all the things she used to depend on a man to do. Yes, that is what I'll do.

Okay, my husband took my vehicle in today and now I have a sticker and the oil changed, the water checked, etc. See, I took care of it just like a woman. I am WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!

Molly, the shredder Schnauzer

2010-04-22T06:49:00.000-07:00

Learning about Schnauzers is the title of the book , so I open it and read when we first get our dog. While reading, I find a Schnauzer has high anxiety when its person or persons leave the house. They don't like being alone, and this is an understatement. Five years into this dog/person relationship we have experienced the anxiety of a Schnauzer named Molly.

When we leave the house we look back and pick up every piece of paper we can find that Molly can get in to, because she will tear paper into more pieces than you can imagine. It looks like she won the dog of the year contest when we return and find confetti in bazillions of tiny pieces all over the floor. I fully expect to see a tiara on her head.

She runs to the back door when she hears the key in the lock. She's excited! She wants us to see her shredding project. We walk in and wonder "Where in the heck did she find this paper towel?" She will search, when we leave--as though she is part bloodhound, until she finds a piece of paper. Can you imagine if she could stand up and reach for a roll of paper towels off the kitchen counter? Makes me shiver to think of it.

Let me get to the root of this particular story, for you see, I see everything as a potential story - - EVERYTHING! Last Saturday our town had a "trash off" and this was the perfect time to rid ourselves of "stuff" in our falling down shed in our backyard. First of all, my husband loaded the truck with lots of "stuff" he wouldn't even let me look through; I'm a hoarder you see. He comes in the back door ever so often, asking me to recycle things he thinks is in the shed. Okay, first recycle a Barnum and Bailey size tent we camped in a few times. By the time we got the tent up with all the stakes and found an area large enough for the tent we were ready for our nap in the tent. That tent was old! The last time we went I vowed never to camp again. Sand was in every crack and crevice of our bodies, the car, the kids (and that was a long, long time ago). What does this have to do with a Schnauzer you say? I'm getting to it folks.

I get on-line run a recycle ad for the tent we haven't used or seen in eons. I recycle the golf clubs and the bag. I recycle 2 weed eaters (one with a hole in the tank). Then, he comes in and says the tent has been eaten in totality, not a bite left. RATS! I write on recycle, Tent taken. This is not a lie. The tent has become recycled alright by momma rats making numerous nests for baby rats. The shed is inhabited and has been for a while. What is wrong with those feral cats we let live here and feed?

Golf clubs were gone immediately - - some recycler took the clubs and the bag. We told the recycler with their new found treasure to use hot soapy water and clean those clubs and the bag up really good. Now for the weed eaters - - gone, not in the shed. We have no clue where they went, probably recycled them the last time we cleaned up the shed. Another "taken" email to recycle!

Chick finds a treasure. A box of love letters from all my service pen pals and old friends and loves from 1959 when I moved from Indiana. Most are eaten up and gone, some are salvageable. I wrap them in a small paper bag to read later, and placed them on the end table. We left to go eat lunch. When we returned - - some of these treasures, 51 year old letters, were now (you guessed it) confetti. Rats and Schnauzer's - - who needs a shredder?

April 19, 2010 -- visit with mom and dad

2010-04-19T12:55:00.000-07:00

April 19, 2010 - - visit with mom and dad
Very overcast day - -high 64 degrees

Chick and I went over for a short visit with mom and dad today to check out the tomato plants in the garden and take them some banana nut bread I had baked this morning.

Mom was in the kitchen and dad was sitting in his chair in the living room. I placed a slice of banana nut bread on their plates and sat down to talk to them. Dad had the television on NASCAR so loud I thought I might make this a short visit and mom wanted to talk but couldn’t find the right words. I kept trying to help her but nothing was coming out right. She has been talking about Decoration for a couple of weeks, not wanting to miss it at Stony Point. I told her to mark May 1 on her calendar when I talked to her on the phone this morning. She asked me again, when it is. I asked why she wants to go so badly and she said to make sure her mom and dad have flowers on their graves.

We went out on the porch and she pointed at the handicap ramp the neighbors have with rails. Their home health nurse fell this morning when leaving mom and dad’s house and mom wanted rails like the neighbors. I told her we’d check into it.

Today was a chilly day and she said she was cold, so we left the front porch and went back inside. She sat down close to me and said she wanted to tell me about her dream. I waited, thinking I would have to help supply the words for her to tell me the dream.

This is the dream: “I was at a funeral and there were people all around me. I don’t know whose funeral it was but these were people who are now deceased standing around me - - people I once knew. They were all around me when the back door opened and here comes Billy Jack Webster holding a little girl’s hand. He was laughing as he walked to the front of the church. I said, “Billy Jack, why are you doing that, laughing, at a funeral?” He said, “Because someone kicked the bucket and I always do that when that happens.” I said, “Who was the little girl", and she said her head was blotted out so she didn’t know, but she could clearly see all the other people there. She said, “I don’t know why I dreamed that dream.” I had goose bumps hoping it’s not a premonition of her death.

Musings!

2010-04-13T06:32:00.000-07:00

I wonder why the woman was holding up a sign in front of the Opthamologist office I was driving up to? I just changed from the very doctor she was accusing of ruining her eyes. Fate! I don't know for sure what made me change doctors. Perhaps God said, change doctors, not sure.

Anyway, I pulled by her as I was parking and saw her sign. A sign warning people not to have surgery by Dr. Rudolph Churner who actually saved my eyesight 30 years ago when I first began to have problems. The sign read, "I had surgery by Dr. Rudolph Churner, ask me about it - - not good!" I intended to go back and speak with her when I finished at the office; however two hours later as I was leaving the office and blind as a bat from the dilation drops, the lady with the sign was gone. Now I had to wonder what happened. I thought if anything I might be able to soothe her. I know she was going through a major crisis. I wanted to tell her how Dr. Churner had helped me so many years ago when I was scared to death I was going blind. I wanted to tell her perhaps if she went in and talked to him in a human way and let him know how scared she is of being blind, or looking forward to seeing better again and after the surgery it didn't happen, perhaps he would explain to her what went wrong or perhaps he did all he could do but her eyes just couldn't be corrected. I don't know what I wanted to tell her. I care too much for people and their dilemmas. I can't fix the world. I need to learn that lesson. I can't soothe every one's ruffled feathers, and sometimes when I make that attempt to "fix things and make it all better" things get worse instead of better. Words can heal or hurt. It depends on the hearer of the words and how the words are perceived.

I came on home and thought about driving back tomorrow to see if she is still out there. Alas, I am sitting here in my gown and still wondering if I can help that poor soul who may have lost the windows to her world.

A Mellow Hour with Mom

2010-03-04T07:59:00.000-08:00

I went by for a short visit today with mom and dad and to bring banana bread to them. Mom was sitting in the living room watching television; dad and Wes had gone to take dad for his weekly iron infusion which lasts about 4 hours. Mom enjoyed a slice of the bread saying, “These pecans are good.”

After we put some clothes in to wash; we meandered out to the back porch. Mom wanted me to look at spring breaking forth – her daffodils were in bloom; the second sign of spring. The first sign was before the last snow we had when hundreds of Robins came for a visit. We walked out to her flower garden and sure enough, the yellow heads of spring were above the ground with their faces towards the sun.

I walked to the van and got my camera out. “Mom, let me take your picture with your daffodils.” She (like always) grabbed for her hair and said she didn’t look good enough for a picture because of her hair. I said, “Mom, your hair has always been your excuse for no pictures, no company and staying in the house”. I told her I would have inscribed on her tombstone, “I went to the grave with dirty hair, but I have a clean, shining soul, and that is what counts in the end.” So here is my beautiful mom with her beautiful caring ways she has always been our leaning post in this family. Now she needs to lean more on her children.

As we walked in the house, we both smelled something powerful. I said, “Cat shit!” We both had it all over the soles of our shoes. Now we had created another job for us to do. The cats had enjoyed the garden too.

Banana Nut Hushpuppies

2010-02-01T16:46:00.000-08:00

I have decided anyone can make up recipes. I did it today by mistake. Mom and dad have said they like the banana nut bread I make so I was going to make a couple of loaves. Instead I had enough bananas for one loaf. Okay, so I dig out my wonderful Richard Henry’s recipe, the ingredients and pull the flour and baking soda from the refrigerator. The last time Chick fried fish (last Monday) to take to mom and dad he put the flour and the cornmeal in the refrigerator so we wouldn’t hatch little beetles.

I dig out the container marked “flour” chop up the pecans, and mash the bananas and put all the other ingredients in. Flour is added last in this recipe. Oh, I could nearly taste it and knew mom and dad would enjoy a slice of this loaf of bread in the morning with their coffee. I poured the cup and ½ of flour into the mixture, buttered the loaf dish and poured up the larruping mixture. Then I set the timer and laid down for an hour to nap on the couch with my little dog Molly while our delicious smelling Banana Nut bread baked.

Ring! Ring! The timer went off. I got up and took the loaf out of the oven. I couldn't wait to sample it. I waited a few minutes and realized it needed to set a little longer. Back into the oven –turned the dial off, laid back down, and 15 minutes later checked it again.

Now it was firm. I cut a slice and partake of it, nearly salivating from the anticipation. Hummmm, it tasted strangely like hush puppies or a fish fry. I wondered where that came from. I took another bite just as my dear husband came in the back door. I thought it still tasted like fish; he grabbed a slice and thought it tasted fine. The texture was sort of mealy. I asked what he put in the container marked flour and he said, “Flour,of course”. I took another bite - - still tasted like I had stopped at Hutchins’s for fish and was eating Banana Nut Catfish.

Ummmmm, could it be? I said, “Chick did you put the hush puppy mix away that the boys bought you for Christmas?” He said, “Yes” and I said “Where did you put it?” He said, “No wonder the banana nut bread tastes like hush puppies. No, I will not take the new recipe to mom’s though some people might enjoy it. You’re thinking, “Does’t she know the difference between flour texture and cornmeal texture?” This is a special kind of mix with both flour and meal from the Oouchita Mountains. I'll bet the Oouchita Mountain people would get a kick out of this. Uh oh, I wonder! Would anyone want this recipe for Banana Nut Hush puppies? Might win a Blue Ribbon at the Fair!

Aging

2010-01-31T07:08:00.000-08:00

January 31, 2010

Pondering about momma this morning.

I stepped outside this morning to a cold, frosty morning to chase away the neighbor’s great Perinese dog who loves to come do his number on God’s Little Acre. It was a frosty 30 degrees and we were just coming out of the deep freeze of winter. I started thinking about my momma who is still living but can’t find her words when she needs them. Come to think about it. I can’t either!

While standing at the kitchen window, I thought about momma and how she would get out her old skillet and start the bacon and eggs, get the bread out for toast and start the coffee every morning of her adult life. At this moment I wish my momma was here. I feel hungry today. I feel hungry to see my momma this morning and all I have to do is get in my vehicle and go over. I will watch her struggle to make her coffee and get her clothes on for the day. I’ll watch my dad get his self together for the day and act like nothing is amiss with momma. She’ll go in the kitchen and fumble for the coffee. She’ll pour the water in the back of the pot, and pour a handful of coffee in the pot. She’ll figure out how to make the coffee after she has done several different processes, like pour the finished coffee back into the reservoir in the back and run it through again. Perhaps she’ll stab a hole in the filter and let the coffee fall into the pot and eventually, she’ll pour she and dad a cup and they’ll drink it and spit out the grounds.

Momma still tries and dad still eats and drinks whatever is placed in front of him. They seem to think all is well in their world and they are content for now.

Our Friend Denise Cooper - - See you later!

2010-01-26T06:36:00.000-08:00

I met Denise when this Collin Community Corner group started. I noticed this woman named Denise the Accounter, who always encouraged each and every writer in the group to connect and communicate. Denise was always welcoming to the new people in the group and she was instantly likable. She was like a warm blanket wrapped around you when you were at your lowest. You could feel Denise’s spirit in her emails to us. She was helpful, loving, and kind to everyone who came her way. She and I began to write personal emails and send funny forwards to one another. Sometimes there were serious moments we needed to talk to a friend about. I know she befriended everyone and had a real personal interest in each of us. She was discreet and you felt you could tell her anything.

She was a good weather woman. Whenever the sleet was pelting against her window, we knew it. If it was raining she told us. Snow, we knew how much in her corner of the world was accumulating. Denise and I loved to tell everyone about the weather as though no one knew about weather stations on television! In fact, I think we all have that tendency. If it is hot, we say it’s hot today. If it is cold, we say it is cold or snowing or whatever is happening outside because we want to connect with one another even when there is nothing but the weather to talk about.

Denise loved animals - - mostly horses and cats. Those are the animals she talked about most of all. She loved to eat at Bill Smith’s – Gravy and Biscuits. She loved Fuddruckers hamburgers, and she loved Richard’s recipe for Banana Bread. We could smell it vicariously when she baked it. Then I had to bake a loaf as well. How many more of you did the same? You could almost hear her humming as she waited for the prize. There was so much more to Denise - - so much. She had many interests and loved the outdoors; flowers, gardens, sunrises and sunsets. She loved us, she loved her family and she trusted everyone. She loved with abandon.

Denise and I were of the 60 Club and wondering what we would do the rest of our lives. Well, Denise went on home to be with the Lord and she doesn’t have to wonder about what she is going to do the rest of her life now. She is walking with the angels, her loved ones and others gone on before us. Denise is not crippled with pain nor worried about tomorrow. While her smiling face and wonderful laughter is not with us any longer her spirit of love is still here and she will not be forgotten by those of us whose lives she touched during her lifetime. Denise we celebrate your life today in the way you would have wanted us to and girl, we are missing you!

Multiplication

2010-01-22T06:49:00.000-08:00

The past few years the mice found our house. Not good! The winter of 2004 we were overrun with the little creatures. Cute little furry critters with long silky whiskers, tiny little feet, tiny little noses and teeth like a shark from the looks of the damage they can do…chewed up paper, holes in pajamas in the drawer. I hate MICE!

Chick was in the hospital and I was working full time, we had our two young grandsons living with us. It was 2005; I had to get rid of the mice. What to do? Our 14 year old cat, Furly walked out of the house one morning to do his do and never returned. This is when the mice found us. I could write more about the cat, the mice, the kids, but this is about THE CATS!

It is 2010 and we wished back in 2005 for some feral cats - - a couple, no more. We didn’t promote cats to our house but we talked about trying to get a couple of out door cats to control the mice population during the winter months. My mom always said, “Be careful what you wish for!” I used to wonder what she meant. Over the years I have learned what she meant.

In 2007 I began to see a blur of gray. Out of the corner of my eye would be a streak of gray but by the time I cut my eyes to where the streak had been it was gone. Then the streak of gray slowed down and I named her Sophie. She is a big gray, long haired cat with beautiful green/yellow eyes. She would hesitate at the corner of the porch and wait. We bought food for her. MISTAKE!!!!!

Sophie went out into the woods and talked to her cronies. Now, this winter, we see a blur of black, and several grays and multi colored cats on our porch. The only friendly one is Sophie. This morning I smell cat urine, but the mice are gone. The menagerie moved under the front porch. Time to get an outside dog and soon! The dogs chase the cats the cats chase the rats; the rats chase the cheese…the beat goes on.

New, not really!

2010-01-02T06:52:00.000-08:00

New Year’s Morning 2010

I went to bed with great expectations after reading all the Facebook Happy New Year Greetings wishing everyone a better year than last year. Like Scrooge when he went to his home on Christmas Eve I went to bed at a decent hour December 30, 2009, and pulled the covers over my head and looked forward to the New Year coming tomorrow morning.

ZZZZZZZZZZZ’s a plenty; 8 hours later, I woke and realized I slept off the old year and was waiting to see what the New Year had brought me. After all, everyone wished me a better year than last year as they always do. It had to happen didn't it? DIDN’T IT?????

I opened one eye and pulled the cover back. The sun was already shining in my bedroom. That is a good sign! I opened the other eye waiting for the new fantabulous year to jump all over me. I crept up out of the bed. I sneaked past the Old Year into the living room and there still sat my old furniture, my box type television and the dust on the fan blades just like the old year I left behind last night.

Ummmm, maybe I have to make the “Shiny as a new dime New Year” become different. As different a year I can make it myself. Perhaps we all need to make some changes in our attitudes; in our lives as much as we can. We can’t wait around and expect changes to fall from the sky or surround us when we just sit here doing nothing to make those changes. Okay New Year, I think I’m about ready for you. I have to adjust some things first. Come forth! Let’s go and write this New Year and see what the tally is at the end of 2010.

Duh!

2009-12-15T17:18:00.000-08:00

Good Grief Mr. Greenspan,

I just sat and watched you on the George Stephanapoulos Show and you were talking about the loss of jobs. Okay, it’s pretty much right there in front of our noses; much of the problem could be remedied much in part by bringing back the American manufacturing jobs to America!

Since when did our country think we had enough wealth to share with the entire world? Do Americans who are not computer whizzes, teachers, coaches, entrepreneurs, accountants, bankers, actors, writers, builders, insurance administrators, doctors, nurses, have the opportunity for jobs? A big No! The jobs for the middle class Americans are nearly extinct like the dinasaurs. Do you want a job? Go to China, Japan, Mexico, India, and the other countries where America manufactures products and brings them back for our citizens to purchase at huge prices! American companies are full of GREED! Those companies didn't move elsewhere to help others, those companies manufacturing sites were moved for use of slave labor; same old concept of the South when slavery was alive. We moved the companies for cheap labor, not because we wanted to share the wealth.

Americans are depressed! Americans are overworked on the few jobs that are available. How many of the American companies have gone to another country? How many? Are there any statistics on that? Other countries send their children here for their great college educations: “Get your free education in America and take it back to your home countries!” Look around you folks and wake up, it’s not the debt we’re talking about leaving our grandchildren; it’s the loss of jobs; however loss of jobs means debt. Look where everything is made that you buy - - other countries! Find out - - protest, write your letters to Washington, D.C. It is as plain as the noses on our faces; we are sending all production jobs that built America after World War II to other countries. This has been going on for a long, long time.

When I was a young woman I remember Krushev saying, “I’ll bury you from within”. You didn’t have to Mr. Krushev, we did it ourselves by sending all manufacturing of any significance to other countries that turn around and sell these products Americans used to build, sew and produce to care for our own. Trouble is: there is no middle class to buy these products. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist Mr. Greenspan to figure out we need to bring Middle Class, blue collar work jobs back to the U.S.A. And we need to save our farmlands and put our farm families back to work so we can feed our country healthier.

(Side note: I wrote this back some months ago after watching Mr. Greenspan on television)

Happy Birthday Holly

2009-10-06T07:55:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday Holly! So now you are 36 years old. I woke up this morning thinking about that day 36 years ago, and how I dreaded going to the hospital to have another baby. I was eager to bring you into the world, but dreaded the pains of childbirth since I hadn't done this in 8 years and I could remember the 3 days of labor when I had Angie. Scary!

Well, I decided not to ever have another child and Angie was going to be our one and only and yes, she was worth it, but I didn't want to have that same experience again. However, as I felt my biological time clock for having another child was running down, I opted to have another child, at the old age of 29. I laugh now when I think of that! Women of today wait until their 40's to start a family, but back then it was a different time. I lay there in pain, waiting, feeling more confident, knowing it would be different this time. I had a new doctor, I was familiar with childbirth, new hospital, all was different. It would be quicker! The routine, and all mothers know it now including you, is to dilate which I couldn't do with Angie. It was a slow drawn out process and all mothers have to feel the pain and push! Eventually I pushed and my tailbone broke as you entered the world eight hours from the first labor pain. Afterwards I had to sit on a cushion for months, but the love I felt for you when you arrived was enough to deal with the pain and another beautiful little baby girl made it worth it all.

In the past 36 years of your life we've experienced, joy, laughter, love and many trials and tribulations together, and it continues. Me at your side always rooting for you. I remember you dancing because of your little crooked legs, and how hard you worked at it. Me, sitting through 2 day recitals and performances watching all the children of every age until it came to your performance and how proud I was of you. Later, you graduating from high school early and going off to college with hopes and dreams of becoming an English teacher - - how you loved to write! Then, you came home and got a job and continued on with your education, then the world turned black for you. You stopped growing, you found a pit and jumped in it with others and somewhere between 19 and 36 you lost your way. I kept the light shining hoping you would find it again, and continue on with your dreams, but the light grows dim and I wonder if you will ever get back on the path of life again.

I hope this coming year you begin to grow again, and the sun finds you and lights up your life so you can move forward in the path you started so long ago.

Love,

MOM

Bling, bling, bling! Oops!

2009-08-09T07:53:00.001-07:00

Wallace Malone, Plus Parvin and John Templin, my husband, were about 13 years old when they hitch hiked into town on a Saturday afternoon. Each one of them had a job "chopping cotton", "pulling boles" or working at the Cotton Gin in Prosper. The boys worked only 1/2 a day on Saturday. Then...Saturday night at the movies! It was a long way to town by foot, but they even did that when they couldn't find a ride, but most of the time they found a willing party to hitch to town.

They were on their way to the movie on the square in McKinney. As my husband tells me, "We just wanted to be where the girls were.". He said they would arrive in town about 1:30 or so and walk around the square stopping in the little shops on the square. This particular Saturday they all bought a money clip for about a dime. My husband said they stayed at the movie theatre until it closed at midnight, watching the movie over and over and smoking cigarettes in the balcony. They got their money's worth for sure!

Back to the Cotton Gin on Monday with the money clip in his pocket and $5 attached to the money clip. He felt "big" and important with $5 in his pocket, John Harvey was ahead of the game for next Saturday night on the square!
Well, it seems his job was to suction the cotton up out of the trailer and send it up a tube. He said the suction was on a ball swivel and you could move it around and make the cotton blow upwards to the stands to separate the lint from the cotton. (I'm now interested in knowing more, and I'm driving him crazy trying to figure out how the seed went one way and the cotton another, but that is another time). Let me get back to this story.

This little 13 year old boy was busy doing his job and he suddenly heard bling, bling, bling, clatter, clang and he knew. He KNEW! His heart sank! Five hours of labor just hit the fan! Yes, he knew his fortune and new money clip was no longer his.

Happy Birthday Boys!

2009-08-09T07:42:00.000-07:00

Here you are reading your cards and enjoying life. Happy Birthday Boys! Micah is now a double digit 10 years old and Logan has become a 7 year old. Life has been changing fast for you and it's so fast and so remote that I don't get to see you as much as I did. I knew the time would come when we would not be "the most important people" in your lives and that is the way it is supposed to be. I know you both had special birthdays!

Loving you always!

Memaw and Paw Paw

An unexpected gift...

2009-08-09T07:29:00.000-07:00

Smells! How mysterious is it that certain smells can conjure up a memory from the past.

After a long day of not too pleasant things happening in my life, I dropped my sister off at her apartment and noticed the gas gauge on my vehicle was on empty. It was getting late, my knee hurt, I wanted to get home to my refuge. I was thinking about my family situations and one problem after another which drove me to crave a pecan, cherry ice cream in a waffle cone for comfort. I was close to Braum’s and no matter how I wrestled my steering wheel to go left, it turned right towards Braum’s, taking this already overweight body to get some comfort.

As I was licking my ice cream cone and feeling, by the way, much better, I looked at the stinking gas gauge again and it was hovering right above EMPTY. I ate the ice cream faster than I wanted to so I could get out in the 90 degree heat and pump some gas into my whining vehicle that would refuse to run without it.

I ate the last bite of this delicious morsel, and hauled my self out of the van. I put my charge card in the slot, and the nozzle into my gas tank and waited while it ticked away my money.

While standing there waiting I drew in a deep breath of the night air. I closed my eyes. I could smell a mix of gasoline and dirt. I was back at my grandparents’ store, 7 years old, lightening bugs all around me. Listening to the crickets sing, my whole life was in front of me. This gas and dirt smell was a delicious smell to a child who was so loved by her grandparents, who always felt so safe and restful while being there for 2 weeks every summer.

All my gut wrenching troubles lifted and I didn’t want to stop this beautiful feeling, but suddenly the gas pump came to a halt. The precious restful haven moment in time was gone.

Prosper/McKinney Hometown boys 1959

2009-06-23T12:24:00.000-07:00

While sitting and trying to watch a documentary today on girls who are in the Israeli forces it prompted my husbands memory of when he and several others joined the Army reserves. He said I remember when I joined the Army Reserves back in 1959. I asked why he joined and he said because the draft was still in force and the boys his age were rushing up to join the Army Reserves to keep from being drafted and having to serve for 2 full years of active duty. We had no war or rumors of war then and I couldn't figure out why he would object to 2 years away from his little hometown of Prosper, Texas. I would think that would be an opportunity for excitement and to see the world. Seems Home town boys wanted to remain home town boys! They did not want to be that far from mama and family then. Rex Malone, one of his friends, had just married and gotten his draft notice in the mail. He told Chick, my hubby, about it and to keep from going away for 2 years he was going to join the Reserves. Chick said, "Hot dang, that means I'm not far from that draft", so off they both went to join the Reserves.

Charles Carter and several other boys from Collin County were already in the reserves. They all were stationed in Fort Chaffee, Arkansas for boot camp. My husband said the first interaction he ever had with a black man was when he arrived at Fort Chaffee. There they had to build a tent and it required 2 halves to make a full tent. His other half was carried by a black man. He said he never had any dealings with black people other than to see them in the cotton fields picking cotton. He and the black man were hesitant to interact, but they put up their tent halves and got under their blankets on separate sides of the tent. That night looming in the horizon not far from where they were camped was a tornado and raging thunderstorms. He said they heard the roar of thunder and wind and bolts of lightening were bouncing all around. The commanders and sargeants tents were blown away and he said, "Me and my black tent partner were lying side by side by morning and under the same blankets trying to keep dry and warm." The town nearby was blown away.

He went on in his memories to tell about Stintson, a little skinny fella, in his troop and Sergeant Espinoza, a mean ass, fat bellied Hispanic man, who commanded Stintson to fall down on the ground and give him 50. That meant 50 push ups! The little skinny guy took off his shirt and the whole troop couldn't believe their eyes. That guy was like Barney Fife but with muscles bulging everywhere you could see. He said Stintson said, "Which arm, Sir? Sarge said, "I don't care, you pick." Stintson did 50 push ups at the greatest of ease with his left arm. Sarge, "Okay Stintson you little SOB you can get up now".

I hope he tells me more, but it won't happen until I get all settled in to watch a movie or documentary again on television and then. "That reminds me of a time in my life when me and Plus, Rex and Wallace stopped at old man... So right now Chick is watching the documentary I started and here I sit trying to remember the story correctly.

Me and my Grandma Angel Laura

2009-05-14T17:58:00.000-07:00

Today, I began to write about my memories of my grandmother. I first recall her living with my Aunt Opha, her daughter, in Hosmer, Indiana at the old farm where my grandmother brought her children up. Henry, her husband, my grandfather, died while they were raising their children and my grandmother couldn't keep the house because she couldn't pay the taxes on the farm. My uncle Ishmael bought it for the price of the taxes (hearsay) and she lived with them for a time. My grandfather worked in the local coal mines and farmed. I've heard that hard work killed him. He had a stroke and died 3 years later. The kids and grandma took care of the farm along with my grandfather's dad who moved in to take the burden off them by caring for the farm. Eventually I guess my great grandfather died as well. I'm learning I don't know as much as I wish I did. I hope Donnie Barrett, Uncle Ishmael, dad and some of the other cousins can fill in some of the gaps as this is a story I will add to from time to time as I learn more. I'm telling it from the viewpoint of a small child who got bits and pieces of the story by memory and word of mouth.

I remember it seemed to me that every weekend my mom would load up the Model A Ford with a few of our clothes when dad came home from work on Friday night and we'd head to "the farm". Our car had a rumble seat (look it up all you young folks) and I would crawl into the rumble seat (a 4 year old in a rumble seat, imagine). I was a disciplined child who knew not to stand up in the seat, throw things on the highway (nothing like the highways of modern times). I enjoyed the wind in my face and the anticipation of getting to the family farm. I colored in my coloring books, slept, or played with my doll on the way.

Grandma and Aunt Opha made wonderful country meals. They didn't buy the food, they grew it. They had their own chickens and when you wanted chicken you caught it, wrung it's neck (poor chicken) and plucked feathers. Lots of preparation went into making a good meal. Every Sunday, fried chicken was served with gravy, mashed potatoes, other fresh vegetables, salad, and homemade biscuits. Country folks never had dinner without dessert. We had apple or cherry pie or a delicious homemade chocolate or coconut cake. The food was appealing even to a small child. Whe else would I remember the meals?

We all sat around a pot bellied stove in the dining area in rocking chairs in the late evening and I would doze off against my mom's chest while she rocked and talked. The talk would become a pleasing hum that eventually disappeared because I would fall asleep. The next morning I woke in my cousin Dickie's bed. He would sleep elsewhere when we spent the weekend. I really don't know where everyone slept as I can't remember how many rooms the house had. I remember mainly the wonderful dining area where we all met, and the bird dogs tied outside. They were beautiful dogs. I remember the tomato garden in the spring, where we pulled the tomatoes from the vine salting the rich, red, ripe fruit and eating them straight off the vine. The produce cellar had the smell of hickory nuts; vegetables and apples. This was one of my hiding places when the cousins from up the road (Aunt Lena and Uncle Jessie's kids) came. Sometimes my aunt Dot and Uncle Harold came with their 5 children. Dickie, Aunt Opha and Uncle Ish's son, was always a little older and more sophisticated than us. He didn't play hide and seek; catch the fireflies, or jump the rope. He was a bird hunter, thus the bird dogs. He and uncle Ishmael loved to trapse off to the woods and hunt doves in the fall.

Grandma Laura moved into our house when I was about 5 or 6 years old and kept me while mom and dad worked. She was my constant companion. She kept our house clean; our meals cooked and a small child entertained. She taught me out of the Bible; she told me personal stories about her salvation and how you could accept Christ into your heart anywhere. It didn't have to be at a church. She said she accepted Christ into her life in a cornfield. She did not say the age she was when this happened or what the circumstance was. I guess God just spoke to her heart and she knew.

My grandmother made us popcorn cooked in a pan and Kool Aid every night. We played dominoes most nights but also Old Maid. My little friend Patty Powers came over most every day to play. Sometimes we played ball outside or rode our bikes to the local grocery store and bought penny candy: licorice ropes; wax coke bottles with liquid inside; Double Bubble gum - - whatever 5 cents would buy which, back in the late 40's was a stuffed sack of candy! One of our favorite toys was the old fashioned clothes pins! We played store and the clothes pins took on a new life becoming hot dogs, bottles of cocoa cola, dolls and then there was drop the pegs (clothes pins) in a bottle and whoever got the most in the bottle won the game. Life was a big playhouse for us and anything in the house became something else for us. The word "bored" was not part of our vocabulary. Even when the freshly washed sheets were hung outside to dry, they became our stage or hiding place. We would pop out from the back of the sheet and dance or sing. I still remember the smell of those wonderful sheets, and sometimes wish I had a clotheline to hang my sheets on just so I can experience that particular smell once again.

My grandmother slept with me every night. At night when she took her hair down from the bun she wore all day. I combed it for hours. She combed mine. She had only 10% hearing and would remove her hearing aide that had a little clip that fit behind her ear and a cord to the battery. Whenever she wanted to get things done she turned her hearing aid off. Grandma was my back scratcher at night. This was our nightly ritual. She scratched my back until I fell asleep.

Grandma Laura was the face I saw all day and the last one I saw at night. I felt safe, and was safe, in her keep. When she went to live with my Aunt Dot, I cried and cried. I wanted my companion back with me, but no matter how I begged or how much I cried, grandma left our home, she had to. I was getting a new baby sister and my Aunt Dot's husband, Harold, had just passed away leaving my aunt with 5 children to raise without a daddy. Grandma went to live with her and coordinate their resources and efforts to raise my cousins who no longer had their daddy. About 3 years later, my grandma angel died from ovarian cancer. She was only 62 years old. I have outlived her by 3 years now. I can never accomplish what she did in her short life. When remembering Laura, I remember the stories told about her hard journey in this life, how she helped others to live theirs, including mine. I wish I could bring her back and make life easier for her, but I know God has seen her struggles and her positive attitude towards life. He is making her life easy and she is enjoying it. I will always miss her and now, whenever I think of her, my heart swells with tremendous love and respect for her and a smile crosses my face remembering Laura.

Micah the Tigger

2009-05-14T11:52:00.000-07:00

And as they walked Piglet said nothing, because he couldn’t think of anything, and Pooh said nothing, because he was thinking of a poem. And when he thought of it he began:
What shall we do about poor little Tigger?
If he never eats nothing he’ll never get bigger.
He doesn’t like honey and haycorns and thistles
Because of the taste and because of the bristles.
And all the good things an animal likes
Have the wrong sort of swallow or too many spikes.
“He’s quite big enough anyhow,” said Piglet.
"He isn't really very big."
"Well, he seems so"
Pooh was thoughtful when he heard this, and then he murmured to himself:
But whatever his weight in pounds, shillings, and ounces,
He always seems bigger because of his bounces.
“And that’s the whole poem,” he said. “Do you like it, Piglet?”
All except for the shillings,” said Piglet. “I don’t think they ought to be there.”
“They wanted to come in after the pounds,” explained Pooh, “so I let them. Its the best way to write poetry, letting things come.”

The dreaded plastic bag!

2009-05-11T18:04:00.000-07:00

I was sitting at Café Brazil in McKinney a couple of weeks ago with my daughter and sister waiting for our food. While there I noticed a plastic bag tossing and turning in the wind. It flew like a helium balloon up in the air and floated delicately over the parked cars. I watched it the entire time we were there - - very entertaining that a bag could dip and weave and never leave the area. It reminded me of the many plastic bags I see on the highway. Where do they come from?

Do auto/truck/van dealers and service garages release so many bags a month for their own evil purposes? I read if a plastic bag hits just right under your vehicle and gets sucked up in your engine it will cost you major for repairs. I dodge and slow down for the bag hoping the wind will blow it away from my van. Where do those dreaded plastic bags come from; and why can’t they be melted down as liquid and put in concrete mixtures to keep the concrete from breaking and melting away during bad weather? Plastic never breaks down! Not in a billion years does it break down. We could have roads which last forever! Next time you shop ask your clerk if you can have paper bags instead of plastic. We are thinking green. If the clerk looks at you as though you are nuts, then take the plastic bag they offer (a clerk can’t do much on their own) and go home and shoot an email to the corporate office. Remind them the U.S.A. is a green nation and we need to put our paper bags where our mouth is!

Start looking and counting how many times you see a plastic bag scooting across the highway or blowing in the wind. You’ll be surprised as I was.

http://www.citizensagainstlitter.org/

Mr 5 Pockets

2009-04-12T14:23:00.000-07:00

You know how you get somewhere and you are either sitting in your car waiting on someone or in the mall or the doctor's office and you feel like people watching? That was me on the day I went to my orthopedic doctor. I was alone, no good magazines in the waiting room, so my eyes started rolling around the room.

Trying not to look as though I'm staring I start my looking with my peripheral vision. A cute little lady with her hair askew opens the door and checks in with the receptionist. Behind her is a young woman in her 30's with her phone up against her ear talking and never missing a beat. She backs up and sits by grandma. Grandma looks her up and down and points to a frayed spot on the 30 year olds jeans and asks if that is a hole. The girl laughs and says, "Yes, I bought them this way". Grandma looks as though she is not hearing correctly. Then grandma points at the hem on her jeans and she says mine are starting to fray too from dragging the ground. The girl looks at me and smiles.

Next, a man walks in and checks in with the receptionist. I think he must be in his mid 50's. He takes the clipboard with the 40 pages of paperwork to be completed in the next 15 minutes before he is allowed to see the doctor. He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out his pen and begins to write. Then looks bewildered and starts feeling for his left pocket, then the right pocket of his jeans. There is what he is seeking - - his cell phone! Click, click, click, he looks at his cell phone and writes on his packet of papers.

After writing a while he puts the phone back in his left pocket. Now he is writing again, and lays his paperwork on his lap and begins the pocket dance again. He is reaching in his front pocket, and now his back left pocket. This is getting interesting and difficult to act anonymous. He pulls his hanky from his pocket and blows. Back into the pocket the snotty hanky goes. Now he begins to write again (with his own pen of course), and suddenly he is at a stand still once again. He pats his shirt pocket, not there! He reaches into his right pocket, not there, and now the left pocket. He pulls out his (hold on ladies, it's not what you are thinking) cell phone once more and flips it open and click, click, click, click, reads, and writes the information down on his packet of papers.

Next performance: He starts writing again, oops, cell rings - - back to the phone, talk, talk, talk, hang-up. Puts the phone in his right pocket now. He is writing again! Grandma gets called to the back and granddaughter finishes her long phone conversation about nothing and goes with her. Mr. 5 pockets is still filling out paperwork and suddenly he looks up and tries to remember, but can't. Back to the pockets his hand goes. This time he is in the pocket he hasn't searched yet. He comes up with his billfold for the insurance card and the license information. He writes all the information down and then he heads to the receptionist and hands her the clipboard. Now, she asks him something and the search for the back pocket with the billfold is on. He pats the opposite pocket and no billfold so he pats the other pocket and no billfold, then he reaches into his front pocket and pulls out (it's just the billfold ladies) his cards and hands them to her. I guess there is something to be said about carrying around a purse after all and I've decided being a lesbian is a lot harder than it appears.

Do Clothes Make the Man?

2009-02-07T05:43:00.000-08:00

Two incidents that occurred over the last two weeks led me to the question “Do Clothes Make the Man”? My husband, the butt (sorry Chick) of lots of my writings and humor works 2 mornings a week. The rest of the week he sleeps late. Because he sleeps late 5 mornings of the week he sometimes oversleeps on the days he works. Suddenly his feet hit the floor and he is in a total frenzy getting dressed and getting out the door. Now, mind you, he is not the world’s best dresser so I’m sure for those that noticed on this particular Thursday they wondered why he honored them by wearing what he had on. He went to the Post Office and several other places during the day and when he finally walked in the door exhausted from his morning rounds of delivering interoffice mail he sat down across from me and rested. He looked down at what he had on. It had tartan plaid bows on each side of a black winter hoodie. He had grabbed my hoodie instead of his. I just wonder how many men are out there now looking for that new look.

Another incident happened to my dad. He is currently working hard to get his strength back after a difficult round of hospitalizations throughout the entire month of January. He is at a skilled nursing center working on further strengthening his capability to walk and breathe at the same time. This is a wonderful place to be to recover; however, I noticed this week when I went to visit and go over his Plan of Care with the staff that he was especially looking sharp. His clean, white hair was glossy and long. He looked like Papa Walton in the Walton’s looking very distinguished as he sat there in his lovely green t-shirt that had Grandpa Rocks written across the front and his tan pants, brown belt and shirt tucked in all ready to roll in his wheelchair. I said, “Dad you look nice, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen that shirt before”. He said, “They put it on me, maybe one of the kids (he still calls the grown ups kids) bought it for me." I said, “Ummm, maybe so, did anyone else bring you any clothes up here?” He couldn’t remember.

The next day my brother called me to find out how the plan of care went and when dad would be coming home. I told him the extent of the meeting and the outcome, also mentioning the shirt I didn’t recall seeing and he couldn’t tell for sure where it came from. Wes said Dad had on a shirt today he’d never seen before with golfing figures on it. Ummmm, I wonder! I got off the phone and called the “home” and asked if they could be putting dad’s roommate’s clothes on my dad instead of his own clothes. (His roommate has been in the hospital since arriving) The caseworker asked me which side of the closet I put dad’s clothes on and I told her. She began to laugh. The clothes for dad were on the opposite side and should be on the same side his bed is on. Now the mystery is solved. The room mate will be coming back to dirty clothes and dad will go back to being a pumpkin which is now incentive for us to shop and not in someone else’s closet…

Rabbi Ray

2009-02-06T18:34:00.000-08:00

I love to hear stories from the past, especially really good stories I’ve never heard. I had mentioned perhaps buying myself a coke out of the vending machine when I got to school today and Chick said he remembered Rabbi Ray and the candy box. I said, “What is a candy box?” He said it was candy in a box with a glass over the top. He went on to say they bought the candy at school. I asked if it was like a vending machine or was it an honor system box. “No, Rabbi Ray sold the candy in the hall at school. He also had a grocery store in town. Because of that store, I won the spelling bee in the 5th grade.”

Chick said he beat out Virginia Rothfus, the smartest girl in class, because of one word. I still couldn’t figure out how this grocery store helped him win the spelling bee. Chick laughed. He said, “There was a sign that was eye level when he went into the store and it advertised a product.” He was so used to seeing that sign every time he went into the store that when the word was called out he spelled it, S C I S S O R S, and that is the story of how he won the spelling contest. Rabbi Ray, you were remembered today and it was a sweet story to pass on to my children and my children’s children, and so on.

The Chef

2009-01-01T18:48:00.000-08:00

I’m IMing my daughter and we are going back and forth catching up on family news, when Chick comes over to the computer and pokes this package of hamburger meat in front of my nose and says, “Smell”. I lean over as I type and smell. I don’t smell anything. He says, “So do you think this meat is okay?” I say, “Yes, it smells fine to me”.

He goes back into the kitchen. I smell the onions, pepper, and good smells of a meat loaf cooking. Then I catch a whiff of something sort of “rotten”, but then it waifs back through and it’s good again, then bad again. I say, “When did you buy that meat?” He says, “The same day I bought the meat and you made the Calico beans for the Templin Christmas Dinner”. Oh, okay! I keep IMing and I mention to my daughter that we bought the meat December 20th and now it is December 28th. She says, “Throw the meat away, it’s too old to eat”. Ah oh, after Chick has chopped and crumbled and mixed and now I have to tell him the meat is probably POISON. DILEMMA! I say to my daughter, “Well if he eats it and survives, then we know the meat is okay”. She balks!

Okay, my conscience is getting to me. “Chick, the meat is 8 days old, too old to eat - - probably contaminated”. Silence, then he quietly goes to the oven and checks it. It smells fine. It looks like a meatloaf, but lurking under the catsup is probably death!

I look on the Internet and discover 2 to 3 days in the refrigerator is the length of safety for raw hamburger meat. This time they could be wrong, couldn’t they? I decide I will not eat that meat and Chick can take his chances if he’s worried about people starving because we are throwing meat away. Remember how mom always said, “Eat everything on your plate because people are starving over seas”? Why do you think I weigh over 200 pounds?

Chick silently (yeah right!) goes to the oven and takes out this extremely nice looking meatloaf. It cools and then I hear the disposal running. I hear the freezer door close, the microwave going. He’s going to make another meat loaf, this time with fresh meat from the freezer. I go spray disinfectant on the kitchen cabinets; wash the rags in bleach in the washing machine after I clean up the cabinets; the stove, and the sink. Chop! Crumble! Mix! Another meatloaf is in the making. I have to leave during the process. I end up eating out with my daughter and miss eating the Chef’s meatloaf. After I get back to the house I don’t see the meatloaf out and assume he put it in the refrigerator. Honestly I didn’t give it another thought.

The next morning I get up and turn on the oven to bake some cinnamon rolls and start to put them in the oven. Oops! What is that in the back? OMG, he forgot to put the meatloaf in the frig - - I hate to tell him, but here goes. CHICK YOU FORGOT TO PUT YOUR 2ND MASTERPIECE MEATLOAF IN THE FRIG LAST NIGHT! Silence! Another meal down the hatch!

The Fine Art of Communication

2009-01-01T18:15:00.000-08:00

Ring, Ring, Ring

Mom: Hello!

Sandy: Merry Christmas Mom!

Mom: Merry Christmas Sandy!

Sandy: What is going on over there?

Mom: Laura went to see her mom last night and she gave her a flap top.

Sandy: A flat top? Why?

Mom: Because they are popular!

Sandy: Since when?

Mom: Everyone has one, where on earth have you been?

Sandy picturing George Gobel and the flat top, Ummmm! I haven’t seen anyone with a flat top lately.

Mom: Sandy, they are really popular!

Sandy: Mom, since when?

Mom: I can’t believe you haven’t seen the flat tops. Laura is upstairs now messing with it.
Sandy picturing Laura running goop or wax through her hair.

Sandy: Mom, why would Margo give Laura a flat top when she hasn’t seen her in ages? Why give her a hair cut? It doesn’t make sense.

Mom: Hair? I’m talking about computers, the flat tops!

Sandy, tears rolling down her face: Mom that’s a lap top! We both start laughing. This is how I enjoy talking with my mother.

Mom: Well, you should have known it wasn’t a flat top! I don’t know what you call those things. They are flat computers…

I can’t wait until we discuss the flat screen televisions.

Customer Service

2008-12-27T14:40:00.000-08:00

A few years back I decided to try Customer Service with Pampered Chef. I love the Pampered Chef products but usually don’t splurge on them except for the Baking Stones. There is no other product as superior as theirs. After breaking 4 or 5 of them over 25 or 30 years I decided to return a piece of it that would be replaced with a new one at no cost to me.

First, I had to contact a Pampered Chef company. I looked on the internet and there it was, “Pampered Chef”. Next I wrote an email to them and let them know this time I saved a piece of the broken product and it was large enough to identify it as Pampered Chef! They wrote me back. Score one for me! They said I had to identify the person (hostess) who sold me the product. Uh oh, I thought! Now that was difficult. The lights dimmed I thought so hard.

Oh, yes, now I remembered. It was from a co-worker. I called her. She said she had placed the hostess booklet in the break room for her niece. She contacted the niece and gave me her email address. I wrote her. She thought she had the book there for a co-worker or a neighbor of hers – gee, afterall it had been years! I wrote Pampered Chef and explained our office was large with many departments intertwined and employees leave their hostess books out on the break tables for orders. We never pay attention to who we are ordering from, we just write in our orders, and when the order comes in, the person collects from us, end of story. I had to have a name according to Pampered Chef. I gave them Linda’s name, her niece’s name and that was as far as I could go. Six months go by. I get an answer from Pampered Chef with a reference number. All I have to do is box up the piece of Baking Stone and use the reference number and they will make an exception.

“Chick, where is that little piece of baking stone I’ve been saving?” Chick responds, “What piece of baking stone? Oh you mean that broken piece I threw in the trash last Saturday”? Now you wonder why the letters on my license plate has GRRRR on it?

Franklin J. Fullerman

2008-12-11T05:59:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve 2007 you seemed so full of love and joy. What happened? Why were you so miserable you left us with only a memory and a few pictures to grieve over? Franklin, whatever it was I pray you are now walking in the heavenly hereafter and all your troubles have been left behind in the tent you lived in for 58 years.

You left so many good memories behind. In death a person is remembered for all the goodness they bestowed on their friends; family and strangers. In life, you were a complex person with many ideas and racing thoughts that somehow you were able to calm down and put in words. At times you were very comforting and other times you kept your friends at bay and their minds in a whirlwind wondering how to get through to you and how to find you. The real you was a great person clothed in a mental illness called bi-polar. The real you, was a loving friend; a loving adult who always found joy in children; a loving adult who found love in writing; socializing; walking; eating; football etc. You were well rounded and so talented and intelligent. The one word I always thought of when I thought of you was intelligence! You loved learning and teaching others.

Bi-polar was your enemy! It couldn't be controlled for long. It seeped into your brain and spilled over into your relationships. You couldn't contain it, no matter how hard you tried. The more you pushed it back the disease thrust forward like a shadow that always hovered over your relationships and thoughts. Now you are at peace and the shadow is gone. You are walking in fields of God’s light for He holds the sick in his heaven and makes them well again. We’ll see you again some day, but in the meantime, the earthly winter chill is cold.

Christmas Divinity

2008-11-30T15:53:00.000-08:00

Christmas always reminds me of little children; Santa; fruit cakes; Christmas trees; bubble lights; carols; Jesus’ birth; Mary; Joseph; donkeys and lambs; shepherds; church programs; gifts and divinity candy. Divinity Candy reminds me of the best divinity maker in this world…Aunt Othel! Years past I couldn’t wait to see the car that delivered my Aunt Othel and Uncle Bill to 1405 Lee Street, McKinney, TX. Out of the car they came, carrying gifts of the best candy anyone has ever put in their mouth. Aunt Othel could sell that candy and make loads of money, but here she was giving it away. You could never eat just one piece. It was a little bit of Divine sweets that you now have to pay $29.00 for a small fraction of the generous amounts she gave us. I can almost taste it now. I open my mouth and take a bite. One bite, and I’m gone. I want the whole batch. Let’s go back in time!

When my daughter’s were young and we lived on Westmoreland Street, I called aunt Othel and asked for the recipe. I wanted to make enough to gain 20 pounds at one setting. Kathy and I together made it. It started to thicken and suddenly we were tossing in the pecans before it turned firm in the pan; Kathy was buttering waxed paper like crazy and had it laid out on the table; the chairs and then on the bed. We made plenty and it turned out perfect. We ate to our hearts content (enough to last until next Christmas). We shared some tidbits of it during Christmas Eve with our friends and mom and dad. Then it was gone! Oh well, there was next Christmas when we would make it all over again.

Christmas came again and we got the recipe out feeling very smug that we did it so right the year before. We cooked and cooked the clear liquid and waited until we had boiled it FOREVER, it seemed, then it would not make a hard ball when dropped into the cold water. We boiled and boiled the liquid until it began to turn slightly yellow (as in burned) and alas, it made a ball, not hard, but perhaps hard enough. We threw the rest of the ingredients in and beat and beat and BEAT SOME MORE! It would not harden. “Kathy, did we pour it up before it hardened last Christmas?” I asked. Ummmm, she wasn’t sure what we did last year. Okay, we’re pouring it up. We dropped large spoons of it on wax paper. It fizzled, ran down and made some type of weird design. Well, we gave up and put spoons in a pan and this year we had divinity pudding.

The next Christmas comes and I call Aunt Othel for advice. She will know what we did wrong. “Did you boil the sugar mixture to a hard boil?” she asked. I said, “Yes, I think so”, then did you beat it long enough? “How long is long enough?” I asked. She said, “Until it starts to harden in the pan”. “I think so Aunt Othel, not sure though, perhaps it was raining outside, can’t remember” Well, okay we’ll try it again this year - - boil until it gets to a hard boil. Double, double, toil and trouble, make this divinity heavenly like Aunt Othel always makes. I’m on one leg and then the other stirring. How many hours does it take to make a good batch of divinity? Kathy stirs awhile wiping down the sides of the pan as it hardens on the sides. This time it’s bound to work. Our mouths are watering. We think we’ve got it to hard boil this time, so now the rest of the ingredients go in and we beat, and we beat and we beat some more. “Sandy, get the wax paper ready”, says Kathy. I get it ready and we start ladling it out on the paper. It looks too glossy. Ummmm, this time it’s turning into jaw breakers or taffy. What happened? We’ll have to settle for getting Aunt Othel’s divinity - - hope she brings some.

For many Christmases after that we didn’t allow ourselves to make any flops. We just didn’t make divinity at all. Aunt Othel was consulted again and she couldn’t figure out what we were doing wrong. Finally, one Christmas I go for broke. I buy a candy thermometer, and guess what, it did the trick. I boiled it to the temperature I needed to, then dumped the rest of the ingredients in and began to beat it with my electric beater until it got too thick, then I took a wooden spoon and dropped my dollops of candy on waxed paper - - perfection! Aunt Othel, you have gone on to your heavenly reward where there is no sorrow; no sickness; age and time does not exist, but you do. You have left us so many wonderful memories of you and your love for us. I will never, forget you and your talents - - the best divinity this side of heaven was one of them. May the Angels enjoy your candy making as much as we have.

I'm Busy, I'm soooooo Busy!

2008-11-21T07:44:00.000-08:00

How many times have we heard that phrase? And, what really does it mean. It means, “Don’t ask me to do one more thing”. The other term I hear is “I don’t have time”. What does that mean? Does that mean we all should be in awe because YOU DON’T HAVE TIME! We all have time. We use it improperly, I know, for instance: I was up by 6:30 this morning. It is now 8:22 a.m. and I’m sitting here reading email, been leisurely drinking coffee, dust swirls around me and I look out the window for the 20th time today and each one looks like I have frosted them they are so dirty.

So what am I busy doing? I don’t watch television, can’t sit still long enough, but if someone asks me to do something I think I can’t I’m too busy. Busy doing what? I used to work full time; care for my home; raise grandchildren; handle all the business of our house, and now I sleep late; have a part time job, but I still feel busy! It is a mental state of our minds running forward for days thinking of what we need to achieve when sometimes the only thing we need to do is break the time down, allowing time for being STILL!

Being still means no mental activity for an hour a day--just pondering. What a mentally healthy thing to do! Ponder about the good times; ponder and fantasize about riding a bicycle or go ride one and let the wind blow through your hair; do something stress-less. Sit and meditate for the time you have or lie in the bubble bath with Michael Buble singing in the background of your restful world. But you say, “The stock market is falling; the economy is failing; our finances are in the hole; we are at war; for heaven’s sake, can’t you see that the sky is falling”? Okay Chicken Little, all that is truly occurring - - relax, if the sky falls you can’t hold it up! The Chicken Little book is such a great little book. It was one of my first reader’s along with Dick and Jane. Chicken Little couldn’t relax for he knew the sky was falling. Well, just like in the book, the sky was not falling so settle down - - relax! We woke up this morning, God is still in His Heaven and all is under control! I feel better already as I look at the beautiful morning through the frosted glass. What was that I just saw pass by - - a toolbox from heaven and we thought it was the sky falling…

uh oh, it happened again!

2008-10-29T09:25:00.001-07:00

Where in the heck is that tooth fairy? Just a week later and the other front tooth was gone to the tooth fairy. I wondered if Logan helped it fall out so he could get another bunch of money from the tooth fairy.

Logan was explaining his picture he made to us. This is a huge angel and next to the big purple thing (can't remember what he said it was) at the top are the people in heaven welcoming the people coming up with the big angel. Some are floating up and one has a grappling hook pulling Pawpaw up because he is so big Logan says. I'm wondering if it's because of his heart of gold where these boys are concerned that is weighing him down. I asked where I am and he said I'm already up there! Ummmm, don't know about that. I guess it means I beat Pawpaw to the heavenly gates. Does Logan know something I don't know?

Tooth Fairy Strikes Again!

2008-10-16T06:56:00.000-07:00

On Friday after school, Logan came running to the truck to show Pawpaw what he had in his hand. He didn’t have to explain much as he was smiling this huge, mouth open wide, smile, and yes, something was missing. There was a big gap in his beautiful smile. In his hand was a small tooth box with his tooth inside.

When I arrived home from work in the afternoon, Logan couldn’t wait to show me his missing tooth and the hole it left in his smile. He came running to me with the tooth box in his hand and smiling. It was a wonderful day and a first, the missing incisor! Who would know that teeth make that big a difference in a perfect smile? Logan went from being our baby with the little pearly white teeth to being a big boy who looked like What Me Worry. He was having fun with it.

He said, “I’m putting my tooth under my pillow tonight”. I said, “Don’t you want to wait until you get home?” He shook his head, back and forth - - with a resounding “NO”. He had a plan. That night we went to bed. Logan carefully placed his tooth under his pillow in great anticipation of the Tooth Fairy.

Early Saturday morning I woke up and I wondered if the tooth fairy had come yet. I slipped out of bed and rummaged in my purse. I had 3 dollars. I slipped them under Logan’s pillow and went back to bed. I was dreaming when suddenly I heard, “Memaw, Memaw, the tooth fairy brought me $2.00 last night and left my tooth for me.” I went with him to his pillow thinking to myself he must have dropped one of the dollars. I pulled the pillow aside and there was the $3.00 I left last night. He spotted it as soon as I did and grabbed the money and counted it - - $3.00! He went whooping through the house to tell Pawpaw his tooth fairy brought him a total of $5.00.

When it was time to take the boys home Logan scooped us his tooth. When he arrived home he told his dad, Mark, he was putting that tooth under his pillow again to see how much more he could get for it. Mark told him he was double dipping! Yeah! I think he tripled dipped on that one!

Definition of Liberal

2008-09-06T08:02:00.000-07:00

lib�er�al �� (lbr-l, lbrl) KEY �ADJECTIVE:
Not limited to or by established, traditional, orthodox, or authoritarian attitudes, views, or dogmas; free from bigotry.
Favoring proposals for reform, open to new ideas for progress, and tolerant of the ideas and behavior of others; broad-minded.
Of, relating to, or characteristic of liberalism.
Liberal Of, designating, or characteristic of a political party founded on or associated with principles of social and political liberalism, especially in Great Britain, Canada, and the United States.
Tending to give freely; generous: a liberal benefactor.
Generous in amount; ample: Not strict or literal; loose or approximate: a liberal translation.
Of, relating to, or based on the traditional arts and sciences of a college or university curriculum: a liberal education.
Archaic Permissible or appropriate for a person of free birth; befitting a lady or gentleman.
NOUN:
A person with liberal ideas or opinions.
Liberal A member of a Liberal political party.
ETYMOLOGY: Middle English, generous, from Old French, from Latin lberlis, from lber, free; see leudh- in Indo-European rootsOTHER FORMS: liber�al�ly (Adverb), liber�al�ness (Noun) SYNONYMS: liberal , bounteous , bountiful , freehanded , generous , handsome , munificent , openhanded These adjectives mean willing or marked by a willingness to give unstintingly: a liberal backer of the arts; a bounteous feast; bountiful compliments; a freehanded host; a generous donation; a handsome offer; a munificent gift; fond and openhanded grandparents. See also Synonyms at broad-minded.Antonym: stingy

Big Brother Joe and a fishing story...

2008-08-24T08:35:00.000-07:00

Back in 1942 I remember that K, Jake, and Joe were relegated to hoe. I tagged along to watch. They started chopping and Joe made a swipe and the hoe glanced off something and cut a big gash in his ankle. Blood went everywhere so K and Jake made a pack saddle and carried Joe to the coal oil barrel and soaked it in coal oil, the bleeding stopped and mama bandaged it with a rag of old bed sheet and in a day or two back to chopping cotton.

In 1994 after 4 heart surgeries I was forced to retire from working. About this time Joe and Steve discovered the art of fishing with punch stink bait. Frank and I had both retired recently so we began going with Joe during the week to Ray Roberts Lake fishing Buck creek. Joe always sat in the front seat, Frank in the back seat and me in the middle seat. Joe was left handed and threw with his left hand. Frank was right handed so here I was in the middle Joe throwing over my head from the left and Frank from the right.

Joe always put a generous amount of stink bait on his hook so about half of it never got out of the boat. The rest went wherever. A lot of the time on my cap, on my britches and one time he filled my ear hole full of this wonderful smelling concoction. The stuff had the consistency of baby dodo and smelled even worse. Between ducking Joe and Frank I could get in a throw ever so often. The last time or two we went I thought about wearing a raincoat but always forgot it and left it home.

When we went fishing we always took soured grain in a five gallon bucket to bait the hole with. It smelled almost as bad as the stink bait. We would dump some out in the channel and save some to bait under the boat after anchoring.

We tied up at our tree one day and Joe asked me to spread some under the boat I asked him where the coffee can was and he said I guess you left it home. I say no you left it. He says you ignorant pig you left it. So back and forth we go. You did no you did. Joe says just grab you a handful and throw it out. I say no way am I putting my hands in that stuff. Joe gets all his rods thrown out and I see him turning around toward the bucket so I think he is going to put the bait out. Wrong! He reaches down into the bucket and comes out with a double handful of grain and water and fills my lap full all the way down to my drawers. The rest of the day all I could do was fish and try to keep from throwing up from the smell. Of course Joe would sneak in a little snicker and giggle throughout the day.

Those last five years I got to know Joe as not only a brother but a really good friend and fishing buddy. I still miss him tremendously. I miss his phone calls saying “Is the little Fat Pig there?”

This was written by my husband, Chick, about his brother Joe Templin

Happy 6th Birthday Logan

2008-08-05T09:38:00.000-07:00

Hey there you with the big, blue, beautiful eyes! It’s your Number 6 Birthday and you have grown a bushel and a peck since last year. You have lost 2 baby teeth and gained some adult teeth; you have graduated pre-K and no longer are considered “our baby”. You are becoming quite the young fisherman, though I stretch the word Man. You are really a boy who has kept Pawpaw company on many fishing trips this year. I remember him taking you to the lake when you were a little one; now you can outcast and out fish him. I’m surprised Pawpaw takes you anymore. When his daughters began to out fish him he quit taking them! How many times this year have you come running through the house shouting, “Get the camera Memaw” and I knew you had fish on your stringer.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOGAN, ON FRIDAY YOU WILL BE 6 - - YOU’VE BEEN A TROOPER ALONG WITH YOUR BROTHER THIS YEAR AND WE ARE SOOOOOO PROUD OF YOU GUYS. I wish you so many, many more birthdays to come.

We love you more than words can say,

Memaw and Pawpaw

Dog-aster

2008-08-05T08:09:00.000-07:00

Last evening as me, Chick and the boys were getting ready to go to bed, our dog Molly went to the front door and wanted out. I thought she needed to tinkle one more time so I opened the door and let her out. I walked out on the porch with her. She ran to the side of the house and did her job, but then she sniffed the air. I couldn't smell anything and she ran to the porch and looked in the bushes then chased something around the side of the house. I was commanding her to come to me. She didn't! I went in to get the flashlight so I could go get her. It was pitch dark outside. While I was walking through the living room to the door with my flashlight, Logan opened the door for her. She came in. I smelled it. SKUNK!!!!!!!

I grabbed her by the collar (now what to do). I couldn't go let her back out the front. Ms. Skunk was still close by. I pulled her by the collar with her fighting me all the way to the back door. I put her on her leash in the garage where 2 birds roost at night and they went nuts flying all over the place going wild (mom and pop redbirds). They have a nest another bird left there last year. So much for living in the country!

Molly was not happy. She has never, ever spent one night outside. I didn't care. I went back in the living room--the smell was atrocious. We took the boys (both of them) and went to our bedroom where it didn't smell as bad. We closed the door and turned on the air filter; the ceiling fan, a fan on the chest of drawers and still you could smell it. I sprayed the whole house with Oust (it didn't oust anything). Then I remembered the cinnamon sprinkle for the vacuum cleaner that smells great. I poured the granules all around the carpet, and eventually sleep took us over.

Today, I've bought the Hydrogen Peroxide, Baking soda and Dawn to bathe the dog in. She was not happy. She is now on the porch drying out. What to do with the carpet? It was only her feet that touched it and not very many places, but it smells like a colony of "flowers" live in the house. Remember Flower the skunk from Disney stories? Micah used to tell me it was time to call Dalworse when he was little. I guess I'll give some carpet company a call or buy clothespins for our noses.

Dogs! Gotta love them!

Happy 9th Birthday Micah Mookers!

2008-08-02T20:47:00.001-07:00

I remember how excited I was that you were coming. I was ready for a baby and ready or not here you came on August 3, 1999. I was ready. You were a gift and continue to be one that we unwrap every day. Every day is exciting with you and unpredictable. You are your own person and I hope you are as proud of yourself as I am proud of you. You have been a trooper this year and adapted to whatever life has thrown at you. Thank you dear boy!

You and I went to the movie this past Thursday to see Space Chimps. You asked before we left if you could have popcorn and a Dr. Pepper when we got there. I told you “No, we don’t buy the popcorn and Drinks at the movie Micah because you have to take a loan out to pay for it”. You asked me if you had enough money in your bank if you could pay for your own. I said, “Yes” thinking how grown up you’ve become to actually want to use your own money. We get to the show and I paid for the tickets, “One child and one Senior Citizen please”. We grab our change and tickets before they are sucked into oblivion by this unknown source of wind that sucks the paper money and the tickets out the little window if you don't clamp on them as soon as the money and tickets come through. I wonder how much money has been lost and how much running people have done while chasing their money and tickets down the street!

Once inside you walk up to the counter and place three one dollar bills on the counter and 75 cents and a guitar pick. You look seriously at the blank faced kid behind the counter and say, “I have 3 bucks, 75 cents and a guitar pick, will that buy popcorn and a Dr. Pepper?" The kid doesn’t blink an eye, “I don’t play the guitar”, he says. I nearly fall over from laughter. I look the kid in the eye and say, “Give this boy a Dr. Pepper and small popcorn”. He does, I pay and you scrape your guitar pick and money back into your flexible rubber change container and off we go into the movie. You and I enjoy that popcorn and I have a bottle of water in my purse to drink.

Later you try this same line with the kid at Game Stop for a game. The kid looks at you like he can’t believe you are trying to barter a $39.00 game with 3 dollars and 75 cents and a guitar pick. I laugh and make Micah put the game back. I will buy that game for you and Logan’s birthdays when you are not with me. It’s a Space Chimps WII game and it will take two players! Good! You and your brother will both get to share and play the game together.

Happy Birthday dear comedian Micah Mookers. That is a pet name we’ve had for you for years. You used to tell people your name was Micah Mooooooookers. Now you tell me, "Memaw don’t embarrass me out in public with that name!" Ahhhh, the price of becoming older and more sophisticated…

We all love you Micah Templin Harris! May you have a tremedously successful and happy year. Tomorrow you will be 9. It seems like yesterday I was holding you and singing You Are My Sunshine.

And that ain't no fish tale...

2008-07-30T18:11:00.000-07:00

Fishing fever; fishing lies; fishing tales and fishing hives! According to my grandson, Logan, age 5, there ain’t nothing like reeling in a fish or watching the pole while the fish sneaks up on the hook and snap-- You’ve got him. All fish are referred to as him! Though many have eggs and have to be female because even fish can’t do without the opposite sex!

Today was another day Pawpaw and Logan decided to take a trip to Town Lake and wet a hook. They enjoy the comradery with other fishermen. Now here is the latest fish story told from the mouths of two fishermen named John and Logan.

Pawpaw was sitting in his chair fishing (mostly sitting), and Logan had two fishing poles in the water. One was propped up waiting for the big one and the other he was fishing for brim. The propped up pole started jerking up and down. You know what that means! FISH! Logan threw his brim fishing pole at Pawpaw to catch. Pawpaw didn’t catch it. Instead the hook caught in the crotch of his pants and he couldn’t move. All he could do was concentrate on where that hook was seated. Logan was hollering, “Somebody help me, help me”. “Help” as he was pulling the fish in. A nearby fisherman heard him and came to his aide while Logan reeled in a 7 pound carp. That was a BIG FISH for a little boy. Someone else saw him and came and took his picture with his prize catch of the day. Chick was still working the hook out of the crotch of his pants, but he was a proud Pawpaw. That boy can fish!

The man who took the picture was to send it to me on my email, but I think Pawpaw gave him the wrong address because Logan and I keep waiting for that picture and so far it’s the picture that got away.

Dwindling Hours

2008-07-28T19:02:00.000-07:00

July 28, 2008

There he sat in his hospital bed, sort of bent over, staring down like an old cowboy who had been shot in the back. He knew who we were but he had no strength to sit up straight. However, he wanted to sit up. He was as pale as the spirit he was to become. His shaggy eyebrows seemed to cover what he felt. He tried so hard to lift his head and make eye contact, but instead his head hovered and could not rise to make eye contact. I walked through the crowded room with too many bright lights and too many people crowding around. Everyone wanted to bring comfort to the dying. His hair was uncombed; there were big round flat perfect circles on his head and body. They were pooching out, looking like inverted moon circles. He was dying from the enemy (leukemia). He had fought it until he couldn’t win. It grew bigger within him than WILL, the power that he thought would save him. The shining light had gone from his pupils. I leaned down to speak. What to say! There was nothing to say. I said, “How’s my boyfriend?” “Alright”, I heard him say. He asked about the man, meaning Chick. I told him he was doing pretty good but has a cold and can’t come see him. He said to me “Hang in there”. I answered that we were hanging in. I asked if he felt like going to Steak Kountry and he said, “I’m not hungry, but I’ll go with you and watch you eat”. I rubbed his head. Linda was sitting there on the floor holding his hand. She cautioned me not to touch the crown of his head (it was covered with the reminders that the enemy was here to take his life - - lumps) and I rubbed his forehead, as I always did for my children to soothe them, rubbing softly back and forth while I silently prayed for him as well. He said the motion felt good. Shortly afterwards, I moved away from him, the room was filling up with more relatives.

Frances and I went out the door to talk. She said he is angry because he is dying and he is taking it out on the closest one to him - - her! Why do husbands use us as their anger posts? I guess they feel we can handle it and who else can they take it out on? Frances was big enough to understand and to handle it. She knows Charles and SHE KNOWS he does not want to leave her. I told her we have been married to our spouses so long we are like old comfortable chairs to one another. We can be who we are with those we have lived with for so long; they know we’ll take them back no matter how they treat us, they relax in the arms of our unconditional love.

Now I pray that God will let Charles return home to Princeton to die as he wishes so he can wind up the financial end of his and Frances’ lives to make life a little easier for his soon to be new widow. God hold him up that long! Let him die surrounded with his family and friends. The old cowboy will join his heavenly family soon and we’ll not be that far behind him. We’re only a breathe away from Heaven.

The Circle Will Be Unbroken, by and by Lord by and by

2008-07-16T05:30:00.000-07:00

Cousin in the Country Music Hall of Fame

Me and Chick were talking this morning about his cousin Joe Allison (whom I have never met), and Chick asked me to pull up some articles about him on the web. Here is one we read this morning, though there are several. http://www.nashvillesongwritersfoundation.com/fame/allison.html Chick does not have any glasses he can see out of right now so I read it to him and a gush of memories came at me when I read about Tommy Sands and his golden record, Teenage Crush.

I remember that night so clearly. Tammy Minette, (I think that is how her name was spelled) was one of my good friends in 1957, 1958 and 1959 in Evansville, Indiana. They lived in a big old house across the street from our other friend, Pam Baird. We were in the era of slumber parties and such. I was 13, 14 and 15 during those years. Anyway, we also had a friend named Patsy Ward who lived in that same neighborhood. Tammy’s mom surprised us all with tickets to the local Amphitheatre to see Tommy Sands.

We got ready that night and put on our best clothes. I had on a blue dress with a large cumber bund and some pearlized heels and little pearl earrings, sprayed a little Blue Waltz (remember that) behind each ear and waited on my friends to pick me up. They dressed in their best as well. We were in hopes of seeing Tommy Sands up close and personal. We screamed, we squealed, our hearts palpitated out of our chests.

After his performance, we went down to the back of the Amphitheatre to use the ladies room. There were security guards posted so that we could not go around to the door where the stars entered and exited. We came out of the bathroom and the guard was busy talking to someone and walked away from his post. We took off running in our high heels and sheath dresses to the door where the stars entered. We tried the door – gasp! It opened! We were in luck! We went in.

We could hear the other acts on stage performing. We sneaked down the hallway and there was the sign in front of us Tommy Sands with a star on the sign. We went in. It was empty. We opened the suitcase (OH NO, we were becoming JUVENILE Delinquents) I took a shirt and stuffed it up my dress between my knees to hide it in the event someone saw us. Tammy yelled, “Someone is coming, let’s go, we’ll get in trouble”.

Her mom was involved with the Amphitheatre (I think, my memory is dim as far as how she got the tickets, etc. I know that her dad was a clarinet or horn player of some sort). We didn’t want to go to jail for breaking in and entering so we ran. Pam said, “Throw the shirt down”. I couldn’t run well with the shirt between my knees and fell down the steep stairs and scraped my ankle enough for it to bleed. We ran to the back and hollered, “Tommy, Tommy we have your shirt”.

Three guys looked out the window (no Tommy). They were back-up singers with Tommy Sands. They came out and talked to us and I gave them the shirt back. They promised to tell Tommy we loved him. We went back to our seats. My ankle was bleeding onto my hose. I was happy. Ever so often, even now, I catch a glimpse of the scar (now faded) on my ankle and I remember my youth. The next day a fat girl was on the front page of the paper that she broke into Tommy Sands dressing room and met him. Tammy, Patsy, Pam and I sat around and talked about that until I moved to Texas. Now I find out Chick is kin to the guy who wrote the song. I guess that is the next best thing to being with Tommy who later married Frank’s daughter, Nancy Sinatra (these boots are made for walking and that is what I'll do one of these days these boots are going to walk all over you). Nothing lasts forever I guess! She was married to him about as long as we were behind the Amphitheatre.

Hounded by the past!

2008-06-18T06:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes people are haunted or hounded, so to speak, by the memory of what could have been; what has been; what if's, and the like. Memories are good if not lingered in or swam in as a stagnant pond you can't seem to crawl out of. I have used the memory of the ocean when I am having something painful done procedurally - - it calms me. I have used the memories of my grandparents when I need to feel loved and nurtured; I have used the memory of a young girl full of life and love, still slim when I feel fat and old; I have used the memory of shenanigans by a young girl when I need a laugh; I have used the memory of fear when I want to get a point across to my grandchildren to keep them safe; I have used loads of memories and thank God I still can remember.

Some memories need to be put away forever. They are not helpful. They keep us crushed like a boulder hinging us to the concrete. It keeps us from moving forward; makes us sad; pulls our wings of flight from our very being. I have seen people so pent up with memories of people they have lost; money gone; beautiful cars, homes and wonderful jobs - -disappeared! WE can't move forward, only feel pinned down. This morning John Walton Sr. on The Waltons said it best. He said to put the memories in a shoebox and stash them away and live in the Now. What good advice that is. A counselor works for months and years to give advice to the divorced; the bereaved; the lost and here it is on The Waltons - - LIVE IN THE NOW! Wow!

Impressions

2008-06-11T07:47:00.000-07:00

Goodness Gracious, it’s only a purse!

Not long ago I was looking at my emails and above them all was a banner that read Rent-a-purse! Rent a purse? I couldn’t process that in my head. It was like buying bottled water; wearing fake nails; plastic flowers…

Common Sense - - where is it? What type of people would rent a purse? At home they may be eating canned beans; bologna and have charge cards over the top of their limit, but impressions are important you know. Minnie Pearl knew that. She was so proud of her $1.98 straw hat that she kept the price tag on it to impress others. However, her act was comedic humor based on impressions people like to make. Oh yes, it’s been going on for a long, long time.

Mother's Day 2008-This Old House

2008-05-11T19:45:00.000-07:00

Happy Mother's Day MOM

This old house has a 100 year old history, but I only know intimately about the last 42 years of it.
The heartbeat of a home is in the mom who lives in it. This is a story about a mom who has nurtured each of her children; grandchildren; sisters; and mom. Many have come in and out the doors of that old home. Our mom always had the gift of hospitality. You were always offered a hamburger; a cup of coffee or a glass of tea.

Mom, dad, Kathy (age 12); Wes (age 2) moved into the house in 1965. I was pregnant with my first child, my daughter, Angela Dawn. During those years this house has held the heart and comfort of a family.

My grandmother, Granny Green, moved across the street from them in 1969. We shared many years of love and laughter with my Granny Green. As our lives changed like the sands of time through an hour glass the house never changed. The neighbors have changed. Mr. and Mrs. Lovelady lived behind mom and dad; O.E. Smith lived at the end of Morris; Nancy and Lorene (two sisters) lived next door; Mr. and Mrs. White lived on the West side of my parents house; the McGarrah’s lived on the corner; the odd family, never knew their names lived in the neighborhood (2 boys and a mom and dad); Rodney and Donna Sparks lived at the end of Lee Street on Lamar Street - - neighbors died; neighbors moved; and mom and dad are the last of the originals in the neighborhood. They also had a neighbor, Mr. Bomar, who would get out and yell at invisible folks who were messing with her. We could never see them, but I’m sure they were real to her, and then when you spoke to her or talked to her she made perfect sense. We sort of stayed out of her way when she was chasing the invisible with a broom!

My mom cared for my daughter when I went back to work; she cared for Kathy’s son as well; she cared for Wes’ girls too. When my Granny Green became ill, mom nursed her and helped her make that trip from earth to heaven; she nursed her neighbors when they were ill; she gave money to neighbors when they were poor; she sent food to them when they were too sick to cook. Mom has got to have wings under her shirt, and I thought that was a dowager’s hump all that time. LOL

I will continue this story and rewrite it from time to time, but right now its 5:50 p.m. and I have just come from a 5 hour round trip visit with my daughter Holly so I’m cutting this short to come over and give you my token gifts. This is all to say you are never forgotten and always loved and always will be though I don’t say it I feel and know you know I love you Mom!
May you be here for many, many more Mother’s Days in front of us. I am thankful for you and thank God every day for you and your love you show us all. I wish I would win the Lottery I would pay you handsomely if you promised to keep it.

Your daughter,
Sandy Gale

God With Skin On!

2008-04-28T10:35:00.000-07:00

There was a story told of a little boy who was frightened one night during a big thunderstorm. Terrified, he called out from his room, "Daddy, I am scared!"

His father, not wanting to get out of bed, called back, "Don't worry, son. God loves you and will take care of you."

There was a moment of silence. The little boy said, "I know God loves me, but right now, I need somebody who has skin on."

Sometimes, our great and awesome God seems almost untouchable. That is where Jesus comes in. He was God with skin on, walking among us and showing us what God is like. I think C. S. Lewis put it well: "The Son of God became a man that men might become sons of God."

This weekend we were the proud recipients of an organization called “Rebuilding Together”—God continues to appear in our lives with skin on! We didn’t do anything spectacular to cause a group of people to appear at our house and devote many hours of labor and supplies to help us get our house back in proper repair. These people were joyful and I realized they were bending; kneeling; lifting; laughing and sawing; nailing, trimming; measuring; studying what to do next together. They did not stop except for a quick bite to eat (outside under the trees) a meal prepared by 2 more volunteers. All Chick and I had to do was receive - - this is a difficult task to do. We felt lazy; wanted to buy them something; pay them something - - just do something to help them. Afterall, we were not their blood family in the sense we know families, but we were their family for a lifetime through Christ who came and served and continues to serve. Their families are huge - -this is nothing new to them. They are servants of Christ. It was fantastic!

I felt all weepy inside watching them work. They gave of themselves; they took time out from their own families - - all these people have “real paying” jobs they go to every day, but the act of love and unselfish service was a sermon in itself. I couldn’t have paid them. I had no money and this is why they were helping us. We needed it! A young man we met a year ago could see we needed the help. He told me about Rebuilding Together. I wasn’t promised it would happen. The board reviewed our application and we were one of the families selected for this amazing gift!

God is so awesome and He shows himself through believers who love one another as He loves us. Thank you Awesome People. I will never forget that day. I only wish I had video taped it so I can show others the energy; the gift of before and after by strong male carpenters and women who serve their communities without grumbling about giving up their precious time for people they do not know. I told others about the gift and the joy that abounded from these strangers who saw a need and filled it. Even as they were leaving the energy was going on and the smiles were there. Wonderful JOY!

I pray that I can pay it forward! We should all give something for no reason other than to display our Awesome God with skin on. I am humbled!

One last bloom for remembrance...

2008-04-04T10:54:00.000-07:00

They were lovely sitting in the front office when I arrived for my evening shift at Finch Elementary. Flowers! Beautiful, breathtaking flowers! I made the remark, “I see my flowers have arrived”. We all smiled, then I asked who was the lucky person who received the flowers. Audrey said a coach in the school district lost his wife and there were so many flowers sent to the funeral that he wanted to share them. I don’t know the coach or his wife, but I could see by the flowers she was well loved and so was he.

Each day as I arrived for work the first thing I saw were these lovely flowers and we all enjoyed the aliveness; the memory of someone who was so loved and cherished that the over abundance of flowers were a monument to her life. By Friday, the cut flowers were wilting and beginning to see their last breath of life. I had an idea. These flowers could continue one or two more days to spread joy in other people’s homes and lives. The Finch Elementary Club 360 children took delight in taking their mom 3 or 4 of the flowers that were left. It was a final tribute to the one who was gone. I knew in my heart that she and her husband would want to see how the wilting flowers would live through one more day putting smiles on the children’s faces as they handed their mom the 3 or 4 flowers each from one of the arrangements. This is what the flowers were about -- consoling the living and bringing a bloom to the cheeks of children!

The last Musketeer

2008-03-25T07:23:00.000-07:00

D'Artagnan

Batman; Superman; Ninja Turtles (all of them); cowboys; Indians; ghosts; goblins; we have had them all visit us at one time or another. They all come up with the name of Micah. He is so dramatic when he becomes a character. He finds out all he can about these characters and I truly believe we are the luckiest people around to get visited by them all!

Yesterday D’Artagnan came to be with us all day. He showed up with a Cameroon flag draped to his back as a cape and a sword strapped to his side. He was valiant appearing but needed one more thing! A hat! “Where is my Zorro hat Pawpaw?” Pawpaw looks around and says, “I think I threw it away ages ago”! Oh no! I see the look of great expectation dampen a bit as though hearing some devastating news. I know he rode over this morning fully expecting to find this hat we’ve hung on to for years. I feel the disappointment so I begin to dig through the toys and on the bottom is this crushed looking hat. I pull it out, dust it off by slapping it against my leg and hand it to a smiling D’Artagnan. He straightens out the brim and places it on his head; looks in the mirror and says, “It needs feathers!”

I think! I think! “Micah, where will we find feathers?” How about the lake? I don’t want to get ready and drive to the lake. I say, “Perhaps Pawpaw will take you later or you could look under the trees out front in the event a bird has a lost a few.” Micah starts through the house and turns and looks at me grinning from ear to ear. He has found his feathers! We pluck a couple from the feather duster and put them in the hat. I say Si Si Senor’ we have found our feathers. He says, “I am D’Artagnan who speaks French, not Spanish” and out come some words that clearly appears to be French. Now, more imagination comes forth. The sword needs some work! He makes a protective slip for it with a funnel and slips it on the sword. He imagines fighting the enemy and I feel protected all day from them. Every time I look around I am learning more about this Musketeer (history). We go to Wikipedia and learn even more. His brother shoots him a few inquiring looks when he comes in and goes about his business helping Pawpaw with the mower; the boat, etc. This does not sway D’Artagnan who has his eyes on protecting his kingdoms and clearly has more important business than the mundane.

At 6:00 p.m. D’Artagnan got on his horse and galloped away… Come back D’Artagnan or surprise me with a new character next time. I must protect all the props from the garbage collectors and Pawpaw!

Easter without kids

2008-03-25T06:21:00.000-07:00

This Easter was a mess. Should we plan a family dinner? Should we go out? Should we slink under the covers and pretend it's just another day? Now, don't get me wrong. I know what the Holiday is all about, but this year is different. We did not have our little ones here to rise up early and look about and move to the end of their bed and find what the Easter Bunny brought, while Memaw is in the background filming their every move.

We decided to, first of all, rise from the bed and we rushed into the living room - - no Easter baskets for the kids. Well, I take that back, there were 2 on the table Pawpaw picked up for the boys when they do come. Our dog Molly, didn't look interested in motorcycles and a dab of candy (no chocolate this time). We sat down in our recliners and stared into space. Ummmmm! What now? I wasn't having to hurry and get a ham in the oven! I wasn't rushing around wiping up spills and mopping the floor, tidying up for company! Ooooooooohhhhhhh, this was going to be a long day and not as much fun as we thought.

Okay, I poured my 3rd cup of coffee and got into Sunday Morning. Cute! More stories about Peeps - - every year something new happens with Peeps! This year it is an art contest and amazing what people will pour their time into. Interesting though! Molly lay on the floor with her eyes twirling and her eyes shifted up at me. She wanted something, but what?

A thought! Here is my kid this year. I walked to the kitchen pantry and pulled out her box of training treats she loves. While she was sleeping I hid the treats in Pawpaw's crocks; at the back of my recliner; in a hat; under the rocker; under a pillow and then we called her. Her nose began to move around - - she was definately sniffing. I continued my coffee and watched. She would sniff, hit the air and find! When she couldn't find a treat she would turn and look at us and we would point in the general vicinity and her little fat body (me and that dog have got to walk) in that direction and off she went with her sniffer and sure enough, she made her last find. For 30 minutes she continued to look - - no more eggs (oops, I mean treats) to reveal. Sooo, after she lay on the floor and rolled her eyes at us she knew we needed more entertainment so she ran to the pile of kids toys and pulled out her bunny (her old Easter Bunny the kids gave her) and we played tug of war and "Go get the Bunny". That wore her out and us. We lay back in our chairs and watched the rest of Sunday Morning. It is going to be a long day....

Why I don't like to sew?

2008-03-07T12:18:00.000-08:00

In 1958 I had my 1st experience with sewing. Home economics was a required subject for girls in the 8th grade. My first experience was an apron. That wasn’t so difficult, but then the second experience was a straight skirt with a kick pleat. Mom was an excellent seamstress and we were allowed to take our projects home during the weekend to work on. Mom was great. She did most of it for me because she lacked patience teaching me. I could jam a bobbin in nothing flat and ruin more sewing needles than the whole sewing class.

We picked out a corduroy material in gold with little brown specks in it. Our high school colors were gold and brown and the next year I would be going to school at Central High in Evansville, Indiana. I wanted something that would stand out! The skirt would have a deep kick pleat and a medium waistband. When it was finished it was the most beautiful skirt I had ever seen. I couldn’t wait to wear it. I think I may have even worn it with a few straight pins still intact on the pleat. I got up on Monday morning and put on the beautiful skirt mom and I worked on together and a turtle neck brown sweater; a gold scarf around my neck with my brown penny loafers and bobby socks. I was coordinated from head to toe. Off I went to school with my hair in a pageboy and my new duds on. All day long the boys pestered me and the girls looked envious. Wow what a worthwhile project. It brought me and mom together; made me a 100 in home economics; and I got plenty of attention to boot. I was feeling on top of the world and like Marilyn Monroe.

When I got home from school mom told me to put some empty soda bottles in my basket on my bicycle and gave me some money to go with it for grocery shopping. Linda, my best friend down the street, came by and wanted to hang out, so I told her to hop on my bicycle and I would ride side saddle on the back rack over the bicycle tire. We made it to the grocery store. I enjoyed the trip to the store showing off my new duds. On the way home we had eggs; milk; bread and a few other items. We placed it all in the bicycle basket over the handlebars and I held the eggs to protect them while we bounced over the grass along the side of the street. My other arm was around Linda so I could hold on.

Pride! Humiliation! I was humbled by the next thing that happened. She hit a bump on the side of the street and the bike fell over. I fell off and tumbled backwards holding the eggs as tight as I could. When we stood up I had ripped my kick pleat; had egg dripping off my skirt and grass and dirt ground into my sweater. I was embarrassed and dreading facing mom.
Linda went on home so she wouldn’t get accused of ruining my skirt and the eggs. I went in to face the music. Mom wiped off my skirt with a wet rag; took what was left of the eggs and groceries and sewed up the rip. All was well after all. Mom made my clothes throughout school and helped me with the next project a gathered skirt.

Why then, can’t I sew? Could it be the eggs! Could it be the clogged up bobbins? Could it be mom did most of it for me? Yeah!

Heels over Head

2008-03-06T08:25:00.000-08:00

Have you ever been head over heels about something? A couple of days ago I was heels over head and I'm not talking crude! I'm talking stepping into a puddle of water left by melting snow and doing a Dorothy Hamil flip without ice skates. It happened so fast!

My grandsons came running in the back door with snow on their feet and it melted fast. By the time I met them at the back door and spun around to hear what my husband was shouting from the living room I was upside down and on the ground. The boys were looking on in horror as I lay there. First I retrieved my foot from under my body and my leg came with it. I wiggled my toes - - they moved. I tried to move my leg and it hurt. My ankle hurt! My pride hurt! Here were two little innocents running in excited by the snow fall and here lay Memaw who couldn't share in the excitement. Along comes Pawpaw, "Should I call 911?" I said, "No, I have to lay here a minute and see if I'm broken or just bruised". He goes on outside with the kids. I'm thinking I need a Medical Alert button to say, "Help me I've fallen and I can't get up". The more I think about the concern of that man I've lived with for 45 years the madder I get. Mad enough to get up! That's all it took. Logan came back in and brought me crutches from the garage and I got up on them and hobbled to the living room. Sure enough, a deep breath; a little rest; some warm compresses and exercising my ankle, by evening I was up and at 'em a once again. Women can't get sick in this house!

The next day was in the 70's and now today, snow and ice are starting up again and I'm wearing rubber grip boots! No more Dorothy Hamil moves for me!

My Bucket LIst

2008-02-19T18:58:00.000-08:00

Okay, after going to the movies and seeing Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman in The Bucket List, I had to look up the name of the coffee they kept talking about and sure enough there is http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kopi_Luwak, the most expensive coffee in the world. $50.00 a cup and we’re complaining about the predicted $4.00 a gallon for gas this summer.

I can’t see how raising the price of gas when families go on summer vacations can stop a recession. There I said it RECESSION! This is as stupid as drinking coffee that passes through a cat’s digestive tract and paying $50.00 a cup. Reminds me of the current state of affairs. We are being fed more crap by our President regarding stop gaps for stopping OR SLOWING THE Recession in our country. Every day we read the paper and there it is: the “R” word; our televisions tout the same issues – Recession! They are blaming this on people who can’t get control of charging and have maxed out their credit cards and now can’t pay the bill.

The other reason for recession are the huge mortgages people can no longer pay. Why is everything so HIGH? Who controls this country? It appears the people coming into our country and pure greed direct this country. There are no boundaries. We cow tow to the foreigners moving into The United States of America. We aim to please everyone who lives here or doesn't live here.

Think Americans! Think! Gas is going up to $4.00 a gallon; the cost of groceries is unbearably high. Why? Are the cows grazing in a foreign land? Our clothes; dinnerware; toys; vehicles; furniture; computers; EVERYTHING is made somewhere else, not in the United States of America. You have to be bilingual now to work in this country, and press 1 for English - - why? Figure it out!

America is becoming the land of concrete. Farmland is sold every day and smoothed flat to accommodate more houses. The President sticks a pacifier in front of us to re-direct our concerns elsewhere. A dab of money for each of us to spend and raise us out of the recession. Purpose: To stimulate the economy. We’re gullible! “Here’s a penny go buy some gum and direct your rath about our economy elsewhere! "Shut up and chew!"

Does anyone remember when we were sitting in long lines on certain days of the week to fill up the tanks to go to our jobs to pay for our gas? The domino effect will hit the families who vacation in the summer (they won't go); the domino will then hit the tourist attractions (lower crowds), and the domino effect will keep going and we’ll be back where we started from. RECESSION!!!!! Everything runs on GAS! Airplanes run on gas; automobiles and trucks run on gas. Gas rules! The Americans know what is causing our problems. We go to war; tear countries apart and then we borrow the money from another country and rebuild even better than the country was before. The we send our companies in so they can make money to take care of their own. WHAT ABOUT US! Americans are left holding the bag. The bag is getting thin. Our country is for sale! What our country was founded on is gone. Our country is becoming scrambled eggs with no direction! What is that noise? It's the creaking of the graves of the men who fought for this country…

My Bucket List is simple: Peace to this world before I die!

Fluttering to earth from Heaven's Door!

2008-01-24T08:02:00.000-08:00

Tuesday Chick went to the doctor for a sonogram in Carrollton. Monday he handed me his payroll check and on the back he had signed it and put our bank account number below his name. I signed my name below that. Then it dawned on me it was Martin Luther King’s Birthday and the bank would not be open. I put it in my billfold.

On Tuesday, I handed him the check to cash while he was out. He stuck it in his shirt pocket and left. He went by Wendy’s on the way home to get us some Chili for lunch. He went inside because it was noon and the line was long. We ate, he settled down in his chair to relax. I went to work in the afternoon and when I arrived home he said he had lost the check. He thought it must have fallen out when he took his shirt off at the doctor’s office so they could perform the procedure he was scheduled for. Or, he could have lost it at the restaurant, or perhaps in the woodpile; or in his truck - - oh the places he could have lost it were growing. Then there was the issue with our bank account number on the back of the check. He panicked. I called and left a message with the Doctor’s office for them to get the next morning; then I called the bank and they said chances are if someone found it they would only be able to cash it and not find our bank since it did not list the name of our bank on the check. I felt better about that. I didn’t want to have to close our account and start over with a new account.

Next, I went outside and checked through the truck, then to the woodpile, but it was so dark and the flashlight I was using was dim. Finally I told him we would call again in the morning and find out if he dropped it at the doctor’s office. We would call Wendy’s and as a last resort call and have a stop payment done on his check if it was not located. I went to bed and sent a prayer heavenward for protection of the check and went to sleep.

Thirty minutes later I felt a tugging on my arm. It was Chick with the check in hand. I said, “Where did you find it?” and pulled the cover up and went back to sleep saying, “You can tell me tomorrow”. The next day I asked where the check was found. Chick said, “I found the check under a cushion on the couch that I had not sat on all day. The cushion was uncomfortable when he lay down so he got back up. “I pulled the cushion out and there was the check.” I said, “You must have sat on that couch during the day and he claims sat in the same chair all day”. He sleeps on that couch at night and he had not been on that couch since the night before. He looked at me and he said, “Uh, do you possibly think…” I answered, “That God had anything to do with it?” He said, “I was thinking that”. I said, “He had everything to do with it”. Thank you God! I will add that small miracle to my Gratitude Journal tonight. The doctor’s office called… I said, “Thanks for calling but we have the check now”.

Now God, I am still asking for some hot water and resolution to the last blog. I know you have it in your hands. I'm learning to have more patience! There are lessons in every life situation to be learned. Trust! Faith! Both go hand in hand.

Water, Water, Everywhere and it's all COLD!!!!!!

2008-01-23T09:58:00.000-08:00

THIS IS A RANT!!!!!!

Sunday our hot water heater went out. We bought it May 16th 2007 and paid $858.00 for it along with installation. It has been good having hot water.

About a month ago I noticed a smell in the air in our home and no, it wasn't MOLLY. I also noticed I had a daily headache. The smell was like something new burning. I followed my nose and it took me to the water closet. Inside was a water heater with a vent pipe lying on top of it not connected to anything!!!!!! I called our plumber. He sent someone out. They rigged it up with duct tape and connected it to the vent. A day or two later the hot water heater pilot went off. I noticed when I had icicles hanging from my nose (yes, noses come in handy) while taking a cold shower. It’s a General Electric Hot Water Heater with a striker pilot light.

I got a flashlight and read the directions on the side of the hot water tank on how to light the pilot light. First I went outside and looked at the propane gauge to ensure we had propane. We did! I followed the instructions on the side of the heater. We had hot water once again. The next day, cold water again! I now am an expert at relighting the pilot. I get back down on the floor in a wrestling position. Head slightly up off the floor; lay on your right side; lift both arms so as to hold down the pilot light button and pump the striker up and down all the while viewing through the little bitty window to see when the pilot relights and goes out, relights and goes out - - Kaboom! It lit!

We’re enjoying hot water once again for about a week, and it goes out again. I call the plumber this time. They come out and light it back up, can’t find a problem with it and turn it up to scalding hot on the dial. Really nice taking hot baths once again; washing laundry; dishwasher performing wonderfully well, then kaput! Sunday I notice no hot water again as I’m hand washing some dishes. I lay down in the floor, same wrestling position and I see no pilot light! I do my thing and get it going and it goes right back out! Once again! Five minutes later, no pilot again. I go to the propane tank - - 55% so that is not the problem. I call the plumber on Monday morning, Martin Luther King Holiday, and he answers. He sends someone out. They can’t get the pilot to even flicker this time. They call G.E. the manufacturer who contacts Delta Mechanical Plumbing (their contract plumbing company); our plumber calls to say Delta Mechanical Plumbing is off for the MLK holiday and it will be Tuesday before they come.

Tuesday comes; our plumber calls to let us know he has contacted Delta Mechanical Plumbing again and if they don’t contact me in 30 minutes, call them. WHY IS IT NOW MY PROBLEM? I call them an hour later. The contact person name of Amber that I was given by my plumber does not even work there, so I explain in detail again, the whole issue to someone named Melissa. She dispatches someone and tells me they will contact me. I sit here all day - - no call! I left for work at 3:00 p.m. My spouse calls me on my cell phone and says Delta Mechanical Plumbing called back and informed him that their Dallas office does not service this area. It will be Thursday because they are sending someone from Midlothian!

Customer Service! UMMMMMMMMM! I can’t find the number to General Electric to complain. My plumber says he can’t help me because he won’t get his money if he comes out and puts a hot water heater in without their assistance. STONE AGE SERVICE!

My husband reminds me I could be packing water from the creek and heating it in a boiling kettle under a fire in the weather and taking Saturday baths using the same water for 10 people. That doesn’t make me feel better. I live in the year 2008 now. Time has progressed. I’m spoiled! I pay for service and I want it! When the weather is 29 and 32 degrees out it doesn’t feel good to take cold showers!!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!! I FEEL BETTER NOW, but I'm still using baby wipes and cold water to bathe.

Molly - - Part two

2007-12-29T07:04:00.000-08:00

Well, after having a dog for a while and deciding to keep the little schnauzer I learned who was boss. I changed her schedule. I now had her on a different one from the one she came with. This might work! I took the collar from around my neck and took the leash away from her and put the lead in my hand. Now we’re talking!

She was reasonably low maintenance. She still sleeps on the couch when she wants and looks at me with those big expressive eyes when she is just about to bust! She still gets up once during the night, but only once and I don’t have to go out with her.

A BIG problem with schnauzers' is that they are not too nice to company. They jump up, sniff and bark and bark and bark some more. Then when the guest sits down on the couch our dog Molly gets up against them and expects them to rub and pet her. She thinks they came to see her. I’ve discovered not everyone likes animals or if they like cats they don’t like dogs. They look a little uncomfortable and then reach out and pet softly, but you can tell they would rather Molly would go away, but why would she when she thinks they are there to see her?

Molly likes to go outside and run loose, but with a leash law in effect and no fence I can’t let that happen. Once in a while I sit outside and drink my coffee and let her roam the front part of our acre where she looks through the neighbors’ fence and aggravates their dogs then scratches the ground with her back legs and plunks dry grass at the dogs eyes who are pinned up as if to say, “Dumb Dogs, I’m free and you’re not”.

When It’s time to go inside she comes and she’s ready to get back in with the humans; however sometimes she ducks her head and takes off across the field to the neighbors for even more freedom. I have to chase her. If I don’t notice she’s gone she always comes back. Just needs to wet the neighbors’ fields and poop in them.

Molly laughs and plays and gives comfort to two little boys when they need her; she comforts a sick Pawpaw; and a Memaw who sometimes gets overwhelmed by life. Molly inherently knows when to just lie up against you and look up at you with her big brown eyes with the Groucho Marx eyebrows as if to say, “I’m here for you”. She is different from all the other dogs we ever had. When we moved to this house we brought our mixed breed Irish Setter named Sally. She’s another story. We loved her. Then when she went to live in Doggie Heaven along came Buttons right behind her. She was a Golden Retriever mix - - another delightful dog who even jumped on the trampoline with or without the kids. She had soulful eyes. She moved out when we got the boys. She tolerated one, but when another one came to live with us she said, “I’ve had it”. She trotted off to another home. We got her back and she left 2 more times, so wherever she is we hope she is happy.

In life you discover things made of sticks and stones, mortar and wood are not nearly as important as things with a heart. Things with a heart are more trouble than a beautiful couch or chair, but give us so much more than a piece of inertia. They breathe with us; they run with us; they get quiet with us and rejoice when we rejoice; they are loyal; they love; good pets are worry stones with personalty and expression! Am I saying this? Am I? Should I? EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE A WARM BLOODED ANIMAL TO LOVE AND BE LOVED BY. There I said it, now I must go wash my mouth out with soap.

Oh, I forgot to mention the most wonderful, amazing cat ever, who lived with us for 14 years! That’s another story!

Our Dog Molly -- Part One

2007-12-21T08:14:00.000-08:00

Our dog Molly keeps us entertained. When we first got her she was nervous; we had 2 little boys who did not know how to treat a dog. All they ever had was a stuffed bunny; so Molly was in for a transition.

Before us; she lived with her pal, Sam, a dachshund, and a young couple. Sam and Molly were their babies until the young couple had their own child. Unfortunately their baby was ill and they didn’t have time for the dogs between the hospital and home so she advertized the dogs on the district’s email. I wanted Sam, but Sam was spoken for already so I took Molly after seeing her picture and talking with the teacher who had her. I was told Molly was low maintenance; trained, all shots - - what a deal! I told her I would have to talk to my husband, but by evening I was traveling home with a dog for my boys.

Chick loves dogs and the boys were ecstatic; a few weeks before (read my blog Dog for a Day in archives) they had expressed their eagerness for a real live dog. Okay, Molly didn’t bite them; she looked at them and then politely ignored us all. I brought her toy ball (she wouldn’t play). I brought her dog collar; her special food; her carefully written out schedule which goes as follows: ½ a cup of Eukanuba dog food twice a day; poop at 5 a.m.; walk; poop at 8 a.m. walk; out at noon; again at 5 p.m. again at 8 a.m. and once more at 11 p.m. - - all this from her original Master. First of all: I don’t walk! Second of all: that schedule was more difficult than the boys’ schedule. Okay, I’ll try.

Night One: I fed her ½ a cup of Eukanuba. I went out at 8 p.m. and let her mill around the acre with me on the end of the leash. Finally she smells, she barks; she walks and drags me back and forth, back and forth and then poop! We go to bed; the dog vomits; Chick hollers; I clean up the mess. We go to bed, the dog poops behind Chick’s chair. I clean up her mess. I’m thinking transition – patience and all that good rot! Same night: Molly comes to my bedside at 3 a.m.; sniffs at me, runs for the door. I grab the leash and follow. I’m walking a dog in my gown; looking at the moon; nice night out….

This goes on for a week. I’m working; caring for boys; and now I’ve added a dog THAT won’t do what her previous master said she would do. I write the previous Master who tells me the dog is going through a transition and normally is low maintenance.

I will keep trying! The next day and for a month afterwards this goes on. She pays no attention to the boys, by now they have claimed her. A week later I am walking the dog at 3 a.m. looking at the moon and wondering about rainy nights; winter nights; nights when I don’t feel like walking. Also, I’m realizing the dog has now trained me! WHO HAS THE COLLAR ON?

Fishing anyone?

2007-12-12T10:00:00.000-08:00

I met a guy in Texas back in 1960. I married him, but here 45 years later I wonder what we had in common. It wasn't fishing for sure. He loved it. In fact he would take me home after a date and head for the lake to fish. If he wasn't fishing he was thinking about fishing. He ate, drank, thought, dreamed, about fishing.

So, he asked me to go with him on a date. He wanted to be with me often then and get to do his favorite past time as well. I loaded up cokes; a book; my portable radio and some snacks and off we went. Me. 16 years old and him, 22 years old. He showed me how to put the bait on my hook. What? Me, touch those nasty worms and then poke a hook through its slimy skin - - no thanks!!!!!

He was putting the worm on my hook and I pulled on the fishing pole and at the other end of the pole was a curse word or two. I had hooked Chick's thumb and not the worm. UMMM! I have got to work on that. I turned on the music and all the old fishermen around began to grumble that is was too loud for fishing. They began to pack up and move on down the lake. Do fish have ears? I think not!

Well, that fishing trip wasn't what I would call a success so the next fishing trip we were with our friends Bobby and Charlsie in their boat. By then we were married. Chick had just sprung for a new rod and it cost a whopping $6.39. 10 percent of his salary at that time. We were in the boat enjoying just skimming the water; a nice summer day; no kids - -just the 4 of us on Lake Texoma. My rod started pulling forward and they were screaming, "Reel it in, you've got a BIG fish". I pulled and pulled (thought the end of the rod would go right through my gut), but I was anticipating a humongous catch. SUDDENLY....SUDDENLY...ker plop--the whole end of the rod disappeared. I apparently caught a log that got away! Chick turned pale and again, curse words flew from that mouth, and I think I saw a tear slide down his face. Bobby and Charlsie were laughing so hard they had fallen backwards in the boat holding their tummies. Me, I was thinking about Divorce Court.

I think I tried fishing one more time and I cast before I got the line over the lake and hooked a tree limb over Chick's head. He never asked me to go again! I'm sure glad he doesn't like to hunt.

A Special Birthday Surprise!

2007-09-17T09:14:00.000-07:00

Address: Heavenward
C/O God, our heavenly Father
Beyond the clouds and our imaginations
Give to my Aunt Ruth please!

Happy Birthday Aunt Ruth,

Mom says you would have been 89 years of age yesterday. She said she wrote happy birthday to you on her calendar in her kitchen on your special day and thought of you.

Later that same morning mom said she was in the living room and could hear a sound. It sounded like a tune, Happy Birthday to You – she followed the sound and there was this little magnet shaped like a bear, (our daughter, Holly, who must have been 7 when she gave it to my mom on her birthday), out of the blue playing happy birthday –hasn’t worked in years! Mom said she got a smile on her face and she felt good knowing Aunt Ruth acknowledged mom’s remembrance of her birthday.

The bear was ragged, hat and flag the bear was holding at one time missing and really ready for the trash, but mom being the packrat she is, kept it. She said it hasn’t stopped playing since. I called mom this morning and could hear the bear in the background. Coincidence! I don’t think so. It was balm for a sister’s aching heart.

Happy Birthday Aunt Ruth! I know God’s light is shining all around you and there are lots of good gifts in heaven. I wish you could write back to us and tell us all about your final trip home.

We love you!

The Country Store

2007-08-19T04:39:00.000-07:00

I can remember, as far back as I can remember, my maternal grandmother and grandfather always being a big part of my life. It has been told to me by my mom that I lived with my grandmother and grandfather some during WWII because my dad was in the Air Force and during the time he was transferring from one state to another we stayed with my grandparents until my dad got settled in then we traveled by rail to where my dad was stationed for a period of time. At other times when we couldn’t live with my dad, my mom worked and lived in Dallas with her sister coming home on weekends via the Interurban between Dallas and McKinney to be with me at my grandparents. However, I just remember mostly going to their home during the summer. We lived up north when the war was over and they still lived in Texas. They had a little country store and gas station with living quarters in the back.

Country stores and neighborhood stores were a boon during the early years, up until supermarkets came on the scene. No one got rich running those little stores, but it was a simple time when not much was required to make folks happy. They gathered together for entertainment and played dominoes or cards. Television was for rich folks. Later my grandparents got a television and I remember my grandfather watching wrestling every Saturday night. The commercial with the little bear rolling a log in the river and thumping out the song, “From the land of sky blue waters…” which advertised Hamm's beer was always intriguing to me along with the advertisement portraying a handsome cowboy on a horse smoking his cigarette and staring into the sunset. He was known as the Marlboro man. I didn’t care that much for Gorgeous George except he was dressed like a knight and wore gold and wrestled. I was bored fast and soon was outside counting the stars or just listening to the night sounds. People came to the store clear up until bedtime to pick up a few items. Grandma and Grandpa were always glad to see them. They knew most people who frequented the store. Most would come in and sit down and talk for a while. They sat on empty wooden coke boxes and passed the time. We thought of them all as family. Everyone drank from the same dipper. We reeled the bucket down into the well and back up full of water and put the dipper in - - we were never sick!

Over time we moved back to Texas and I hated it except for getting to see my grandparents often and I adored them. They were good to me. My favorite foods in the store were canned milk and Grape Nuts. My sister liked the candy and cokes. When I was with my grandparents I felt secure and loved. Grandma always wished she had a real living room, so one year grandpa hauled, by hand mostly, wood from a building that had been torn down and added the living room. I think that living room killed him eventually because the summer was hot and he insisted on building that room for “Babe” as he called grandma. They enjoyed it for a short time before grandpa had his first heart attack. The doctor told him to go home and not exert himself. He continued to do what he always did and one day when he and his bulldog, Butch had been down to the creek, he collapsed just as he got back to the gate by the store. Grandma saw him and went running out to see what was wrong. He could not get up, and she ran to the house to get him water. He was dead when she returned. I remember that so well. I came home on the school bus and we always passed the store. My little sister, Kathy, usually got off at grandma and grandpa’s house, and I rode the bus on around to our house which was close by. I was a senior in High School then and sort of outgrew being with my grandparents as much. I had homework and chores to complete before mom and dad got home from work. I noticed my aunt Bet’s car there which I found to be particularly weird at this time of the day because she worked and shouldn’t be home that early. I noticed a few other cars there and called when I got home. Aunt Bet was crying and said grandpa had passed away earlier in the day. My friend, Frieda, came over shortly after I found out the news and helped me wash up the dishes while we both sobbed the whole time. Her mom and dad had called her at school and told her. She knew before I did. Mom came home from work and dad walked out to the car to meet her and I saw her collapse into his arms and sob. It was a tough day!

My grandmother continued to run the store that year. I was a senior and getting married 2 weeks after high school graduation. My mom was expecting a baby, my brother, and she and dad started talking about moving to town. After I married they did move. My grandmother stayed in the country but she was scared and my parents were scared for her, so she moved in with my parents. Later she got her own apartment. My uncle’s wife died and left him with 2 little children so grandma moved to Houston. Eventually they all moved to McKinney and my grandmother helped him with his children. Then he met and married a wonderful woman and she helped him finish raising Cindy and Randy along with her 4 children. They had a houseful. Grandma eventually moved across the street from mom and dad. Every day I could see her and I enjoyed her. She spent the night with me and we would sit up late and watch television. My brother and my daughter Angie would go over and spend Saturday nights with her and watch Saturday Night Wrestling. The funny thing is I always thought grandma tolerated grandpa’s watching Saturday Wrestling, but learned she liked it too.

Grandma would park herself in front of the screen door and wait on her paper about 2 p.m. every day. I said, “Grandma, why do you even read that old paper”? She said, “I read the obituaries to see if I’m in there, if I’m not I keep on living”. She would laugh. One day came grandma had an obituary in the paper and I thought of her and how she said, “…if I’m not in there I’ll keep on living”. This was years ago and I’m not over her yet. I still think of them most every day and I remember all the wisdom she imparted while she was here. I miss that special nurturing her and grandpa allowed me. I thank God I had them, and wish everyone had grandparents like mine were.

My hat is off to you Bessie and Ed for raising some really wonderful children, one of those children is my mom.

Happy Birthday Elmer

2007-08-11T17:19:00.000-07:00

Today we celebrated my husband's brother, Elmer's birthday. I didn't realize how close to my father's age he is. We celebrated my dad's 83rd birthday in July. Elmer was 80 years old on the 9th. I am hoping we all get to celebrate his birthday again in 10 years. My husband's remembrance of his brother is that he worked hard as a young lad; he probably broke a lot of hearts during his early years. He was a handsome young man who looked like a movie star! He was in the service as a military policeman. I realized I really don't know that much about Elmer, perhaps I'll find out more as time goes by.

I stopped by Partyland today to buy balloons or some wind up choppers - - something funny for his birthday celebration, but the oldest age they had on balloons was 60. Not one thing said 80. It all stopped at 60. I'm older than that! The store personnel said their order for older folks did not come in. The shop did not have cards or anything fun. I started to get him some ribbons with different sayings for kids, but then I decided growing old is not funny, it is serious business and once you pass a certain age it takes loads of maintenance to stay on this planet earth. We had a good turn-out and good food. Susie and Michael planned it well. Michael cooked the best tasting briskets and a huge pot of beans. We all brought side dishes and the cake had 3 different pictures at different stages of Elmer's life. The pictures Susie placed on the bulletin board spoke of a fun loving lad and later in the pictures appeared a romantic couple, Elmer with his beautiful wife Ruth on his arm, both smiling like the world was theirs. Later, wonderful children entered the picture, then grandchildren. The natural progression of this thing called Love!

With a tug at my heart I looked up and saw the six remaining brothers and sisters getting pictures made. I realized they are the last of the Templin brothers and sisters: Elmer, Jeri, Hub, Pat, John and Peggy. Take good care Templins' and give us many more happy reasons to gather together.

Happy Birthday Angel!

2007-08-08T14:05:00.001-07:00

Logan, today you are five! The years have gone by as quickly as a wink! We love you pint sized fisherman. You are a great catch! What fun you have with fishing and we knew exactly what you wanted for your birthday - - a Zebco rod and reel. And I was right!

I'll never forget the story of you catching fish while Pawpaw unloaded the bait; the chairs and gear. You had already cast your hook into the pond and out came a perch - - not once, but twice. When Pawpaw asked you how you did that you grinned (with a twinkle in your eye) and said, "I'm just good"!

Love,

Memaw, Pawpaw and Micah

Happy Birthday Baby!

2007-08-03T08:34:00.000-07:00

August 3, 2007

Happy Birthday Micah,
For 8 years now you have brought us love and pleasure. What a wonderful life gift you have been to us. We love you. Happy Birthday Baby and may you have many, many years of joy and happiness on this great planet!
Love,

Memaw, Pawpaw and Logan

Things aren’t always what they seem…

2007-07-23T09:05:00.000-07:00

Back in 1977 or so (you know how memories fade) I remember my dear neighbors Helen and Paul and an incident that occurred while we lived on their street. We were pretty good friends and our little girls played together every day.

I was driving by her house on my way home and glanced that way as I sometimes did out of habit - -in the event she was in the yard so I could wave to her as we went by - - a common neighborly habit. Gasp -- I did a double glance! There was a wreath hanging on her front door. OMG!!!!! Did I see what I thought I saw? I drove around the block again to take a look. Sure enough! There was a wreath on her door!

Suddenly I felt a catch in my throat and a heaviness in my stomach. I was upset for her and her family,I wondered who died. I called a neighbor and asked if she had heard anything from Helen. She said, “She was out riding her bike this morning”. I said to the neighbor, “Did anyone die in their family? She said, “Not that I know of, why?” Now I was confused for sure. I said, “I saw a wreath hanging on her door!” Oh that, it’s a new thing - - now it’s décor for the home. This was the first I had heard or known about a wreath hanging on the front door of your home being decor!!!!!! Always before when you saw a wreath hung on the door, the purpose was to notify solicitors, neighbors, friends and family that someone in that home had died. It was a symbol of respect - - now it was a symbol of welcome to the living!!! Funeral homes no longer provide this service - - I guess it is too confusing!

Soon after that change I noticed beauty salons advertising fake nails for $30.00 a pop (since then it has probably gone up). To me that was part of Halloween witches attire and I thought no one would ever pay to put on fake nails. That will be a bust! Ha Ha Hee Hee!

Next I saw water sold in bottles and I laughed. I thought out loud - - this was the craziest idea ever because water is free from the tap. Get a grip people! Who in their right mind would buy water in a bottle; fingernails that weren’t theirs and wreaths for the door? What a business blunder! Now as I sit here with a wreath on my door and drinking my bottled, clear, spring water I wish I had thought of that!

Made in the good old U.S. of A.

2007-07-11T08:23:00.000-07:00

I was lying in bed this morning (my best thinking spot) and got to thinking about these words. Yes, we are free, but things have changed since I was a girl when I barreled out my chest and stood on my toes to get the last shrill note out about...

This is my country! Land of my birth!
This is my country! Grandest on earth!
I pledge thee my allegiance, America, the bold,
For this is my country to have and to hold.

What diff'rence if I hail from North or South
Or from the East or West?
My heart is filled with love for all of these.
I only know I swell with pride and deep within my breast
I thrill to see Old Glory paint the breeze.

With hand upon heart I thank the Lord For this my native land,
For all I love is here within her gates.
My soul is rooted deeply in the soil on which I stand,
For these are mine own United States.

This is my country! Land of my choice!
This is my country! Hear my proud voice!
I pledge thee my allegiance, America, the bold,
For this is my country! To have and to hold.

It was a peaceful time when WWII was over. My dad, uncles, and some of my brother-in-laws fought in that war. They came home and began their lives once again. Thank God they were all able to come home. Some never saw action, but they were there working on this side supporting the troops on the other side. They were all farmers or blue collar workers - - the backbone of our country. Now, I look around and wonder what has happened to our good old country. The face has changed and I barely recognize it. Some things have changed for the better such as civil rights, money, education, equal opportunity, electronics, technology, etc. Something that has really changed is the growing number of disappearing farms; the loss of blue collar worker industry; the middle class which I was part of. What happened?

I find it to be shaky ground when I look around me and all I see are seas of houses that are looming up larger than the courthouse once was. Where is the money coming from? Certainly not from making products we can’t live without, now all we have is the medical fields and technology. The craftsmanship of making vehicles; making American made clothes; appliances; food - - all have gone to other countries. Some day the good old U.S. of A. may be paying out the nose to learn how to make the items we depend on because our greed took it all to other countries, not to help the people of those countries but to acquire cheap labor. However, that cheap labor we use, will rise up and use their brains as well as their backs, learning the trades, they’ll buy the companies and we’ll be paying for their goods, because the USA will no longer have the tools and skills to compete. All we will have is good technology. How far will that take us when we have to purchase our foods from countries that already hate us? We’ll be paying more than quadruple for items.

I first noticed in the 70’s when I tried to purchase only clothes made in the USA,every tag had another country listed on it. You couldn’t find clothes any longer that had a tag, “Made in America”. Anything made in Japan or China was cheaply created and considered inferior products - - you knew those items wouldn’t last long so you didn't buy it unless you were buying paper umbrellas; paper fans; a toy that would last for perhaps a day or a ceramic geisha. Now, that has changed. We have helped the whole world, but the whole world has not helped the United States of America. Most countries hate us.

We already depend on other countries for our oil. Now we can add our clothing, our modes of transportation, our food, and I could go on and on. According to the latest information our televisions bring to us on the nightly news, even our vehicles, once a great source of USA pride, are inferior to foreign made vehicles and not selling well. Every year we hear of more contamination of products we buy from other countries, even our meat and toothpaste. We should reclaim our ability to produce these products in our own country where USA inspected can be proudly stamped on each package. We have Mad Cow disease (never heard of it before we started importing our foods); we have Bird Flu virus, and where are the USA dairy farms - - it seems no one really cares or thinks about what is happening before our very eyes. When our farms started disappearing, along with our factories and the blue collar workers could no longer find a job it became a sad day for the USA. Change is good, but in this case Change is bad. We are giving away our freedom. Lady Liberty will soon bow her head in shame because our country is more than a melting pot, now it is melting…

Rain, Rain Go Away, Come again in 2008 or 2009

2007-07-05T11:18:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been so sick of rain? I kept looking for the clouds to break loose yesterday, July 4th, but it never happened which caused our family (paranoid) to sit at home because WE JUST KNEW IT WAS GOING TO RAIN!!!!!!

The grass had grown knee high to an elephant’s butt, when Chick decided to heck with it. He would swim to the mower and plow forward. He did, then he came inside to let me know how well our septic tank is not working throughout this wet weather. I had called the Septic Tank Company in May to have it pumped but the septic tank expert told me we had to have 10 days without rain first or it would be in vain I thought, “No problem - -we should be able to do this by June 1st. June 1st came and went. The dried up lakes, no watering due to no rain passed; but in June the daily and nightly rains kept on going. The boys have cabin fever; have graffitied the walls; pulled the wallpaper off; surfed the whole house on scooters; learned every video game they have forwards and backwards - -they are ready to play outside - - AND WE ARE READY FOR THEM TO!

Now Lord, I know we should have said when we prayed for rain, how much rain we wanted so I am asking right now, to let the rains stop and the sun to appear once again. I know, I know, we’ll be begging again next year, but right now we are molding; water logged; depressed; more than hydrated so thanks for the answered prayer, but now the prayer is opposite asking for the rains to quit for a spell. Amen

A Day In The Life of Memaw and Pawpaw

2007-05-31T11:32:00.000-07:00

Calgon take me away - - way away! Yesterday I was stuck in the house with the kids all day - - fussing and fighting and Pawpaw was at his EECP treatment. All of a sudden the storms came. We had them inside (Cain and Abel) and outside (rain, wind and lightening).

After the winds died down, the storms inside continued until BEDTIME. Pawpaw took Logan to fish at Town Lake, but soon came back blind and having chest pains, flopped on the couch (end of Pawpaw and any help for the day). I did go get the Easter pictures at CVS; by Carina's Beauty Shop to get the hair spray I ordered; to get a tank of gas; by the grocery store and then back home. Logan walked out to the van with me before I left home to do these errands, we had no sooner walked out of the garage, and we heard a "plop", both of us turned and looked back and there was a snake (could have been on my head or his 2 seconds earlier). It had fallen off the garage door. I grabbed a cleaning tool (duster) and tried to move the snake back into the yard to have a look at it, but it was swiveling to the side and sticking its tongue in and out over and over. It swiveled to the large crack in the garage floor caused by last year's drought. Then it disappeared. I think there is probably a mommy and more bros and sisters under there.

I shivered thinking about how close that snake came to falling on my head. Now I look up and down like a bobble head when I come into the garage. However,Logan thought it was neat!!!!

When I returned from all my errands I bathed Logan. Logan came out of the shower with a hair full of shampoo - - did not rinse. Wouldn't get back in the tub so I had to get a little step ladder and have him hold his head over the kitchen sink while I used the sprayer. Then Micah took a shower and washed his hair. He came out of the shower with a hair full of shampoo -- back into the shower he went. When he was getting out he hollered, "Memaw" He sounded hysterical and I went to his rescue. He had turned off the shower head and was attempting to turn the hot water off. I turned it too and it wouldn't fully go off. "Pawpaw" we yelled. He told us to let it go until tomorrow. I did, knowing the hot water heater was running out the propane and running up the water bill.

Before going to bed I carried a glass of red wine to bed with me to drink while I read my book. I was sleepy after reading so sat the wine glass on the window sill and went to sleep. This morning when I woke up the wine glass was covered in "fireants". My good attitude is going fast by now and I'm thinking - - what next?

I soon found out! I was getting ready to take Micah for a scheduled test at Presbyterian and drop off the dog to be groomed. I bathed (Pawpaw got the hot water spigot to turn off last night I just discovered),then opened the drawer to get some underwear and there were 2 eyes looking at me. The eyes had a tail and two little ears and whiskers! HELP! I must call the exterminator. We no longer live in a Habitat for Humanity we live in a Habitat for wild animals who used to live in the empty fields behind us, before all the new homes were built. Pawpaw said, "Everyone has fireants and mice". I said, "Not everyone lives with a bobcat under the porch; fireants coming into the house each summer; mice in the house; snakes in the garage". This near 45 year union may not make it to 45 years.

I'm not even sure CALGON WILL WORK FOR ME THIS TIME...not even Bath and Body Works Sweet Pea Bubble Bath.... Perhaps an exterminator will do the trick!

It's Raining Cats and Frogs!

2007-05-25T17:37:00.000-07:00

A wonderful phenomenon has occurred this past week. Micah and his classmates were at recess and found numerous baby frogs. The rain has brought on a natural rain forest in this part of Texas. The classmates and Micah found frogs on the playground near an old building. Micah brought his home. We got out Pawpaw’s fish fryer and put him in there for a swim. Yes, folks, the fish fryer! Don’t worry when you come to a fish fry, the boiling oil will disinfect it. Of course, I’ll wash it in boiling, hot, soapy water too. We placed a rock in the container for our froggy to rest on when it wasn’t swimming.

Before this week, I had not seen a frog in years. They were all over our land when we first moved here 22 years ago, but over the years they all disappeared. Every one of them! When the frogs leave we begin to think there are too many pesticides; too much global warming; whatever. I missed the familiar croaking of the frogs in the night. Every year I looked for frogs, however the search would never turn up the beautiful 4 legged creature that leaped in the grass. NOW, we have frogs. Yeah! Micah wanted to keep this little frog forever…. I asked Micah, “How would you feel if someone took you and your brother and we never saw you again”? He thought about this, but heck they were having so much fun watching froggy swim. I decided to let the boys keep their new pet overnight, but reminded him the frog has to eat. Micah and Logan wanted to know what frogs eat. Micah suggested we pull some grass for him. I said, “No Micah you will have to go find some baby crickets. They can’t eat large crickets and they don’t eat dead crickets, so you and Logan will have to go in search of live baby crickets”. Their eyes became big with worry. The wheels were turning. Out the door Micah went with Logan following behind. They had the little froggy and I guess they were going to let him down to find himself some live baby crickets. In a short time they both came through the front door, “Memaw, we let the little frog go home to his mommy and daddy”. Nothing else was said.

Today they went to my mom’s and she let them go out between rains. They had another frog when I stopped by to pick them up. I let them look at the frog. Mom had fixed it a home in a handled glass, tall enough little froggy couldn't jump out. She put him a snail shell and some grass to make him comfortable and we sat and ate our lunch with the frog’s home as the centerpiece. Micah and Logan looked as though they were watching a television screen as they watched little froggy’s every move. When we finished I asked them if they would return the frog to the ground to go home to its family. Neither spoke. The quietness was deafening. Logan stood up and took the little glass home to the door. Micah said, “I should be the one to let it go home because, after all, it is my frog”. The rain started up again just as Micah took the little frog to the bush and released it to go home. He turned and smiled, rain pouring off his face. He said, “Memaw, little froggy waved goodbye at us”.

Logan, Our pint sized Fisherman!

2007-04-29T05:49:00.000-07:00

Pawpaw’s latest fishing partner has been jumping out of the bed early this past week; retrieving his fishing pole and waiting by the back door with great anticipation of catching Moby Dick.

After they get to the lake I get a phone call from their cell phone with one excited pint sized fisherman screaming about the fish he caught. One after another he catches them, though they are not that big yet he imagines them to be huge. He can see that trophy on the mantle already for the fish he catches. This makes him and Pawpaw both very happy. Pawpaw has a fishing partner and pint sized fisherman has learned a new skill, even opening the fishes mouth to remove the hook.

Most of the catch gets thrown back into the lake to grow some more which upsets Pint size fisherman but there are a few keepers. Last count: Big Fisherman – 7 and Pint Size Fisherman – 8! Look out Pawpaw, you are being out fished.

Bitch and Moan

2007-04-18T17:29:00.000-07:00

What is the matter with people? What? What? What? Are we all so insecure we can’t even leave a full car length between our cars? Is it Road Hog or Linus syndrome? Today I took a little trip through town when I saw this big, red, SUV - - an Expedition come barreling up behind my van. It looked as though I would have a red Expedition shoved up the rear of my van. I sped up - - the SUV sped up. I changed lanes - - the SUV changed lanes. Still on my rear, pushing me to my destination practically, my mind began to play games - - is this person rushing to the hospital because their child is choking to death; is this person rushing to a fire because they are a volunteer; is this person having chest pains and in need of immediate medical attention? WHAT!!!!!?????? Do I make this person feel more secure (like the proverbial blankie) by being oh sooooo close?

I glanced over at the vehicles in the lane next to me - - shoved up as close as they could go to the cars in front of them - - like box cars hooked to an engine. Not one car length remained between any of them. I am claustrophobic, even with my van. Sooo, I finally went through a light (legally, I might add) and changed lanes because I was needing to make a turn to go home. The red SUV came barreling up in the lane beside me. I got a good look. No it wasn’t a person in trouble. It was a young woman, perhaps in her 30’s and she turned in to the Lifetime Workout Center. Gosh I guess she could feel the Donkey Donk Butt gaining on her.

Ninja Turtle Day

2007-03-28T19:15:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we took a trip to the Diagnostic Center to get Micah an MRI. I worried about how he would react. First we stopped to drop Logan off at Uma’s house so it would be one less Ninja to deal with. We get there and he finds out Micah is not staying so he begins to close his eyes and try to muffle his cries. I have a soft heart and decide, oh well, I think we can deal with an extra ninja today, so off we go to search in Dallas for the office with our two little Ninjas cargo. It took us only 30 minutes to get there and not the hour and 15 minutes we allowed for searching and possible heavy traffic. Sooooooo, we sit in the van and wait. Time on our hands! I brought a book with me to read and I open the windows and we settle back. Pawpaw thinks he will take a nap, and I’ll read until our appointment. Oh, this will be a jolly good relaxation period before the waiting room. Ha Ha Ha Hee Hee Hee

Micah: “Memaw, I need to pee” - - okay, let’s water the tree behind us. It’s between two cars and no one will see. Soooo, he did, then back into the car.

Logan: “Memaw, I need to pee too” - - okay, I guess the tree can use a little more watering. Soooo, he did and back into the car.

I open my book, and begin to read. Pawpaw has reared back and is getting comfortable, when thump, thump, thump. Now what? Logan and Micah are jumping over into the back and then into the middle of the van, flip, flop, flip, flop. Slam! So much for the book. Okay, let’s go in and register. We might get in early. Ha Ha Hee Hee Ha Ha

We walk in and find our office suite. Once in we discover we are the only ones in the waiting room. Looks like it’s going to be NO WAITING TIME!!!! Yea!!!!!! Logan and Micah spots the cooler - - they both whip out the cups from the holder and fill the cups to the brim - - after a sip or two the cups are refilled. Close by is a little basket of small packages of chips of various flavors. Rip! I look up and Logan is munching down and sipping. Micah is in the floor making carpet angels. Pawpaw is sitting with his eyes closed and I’m filling out mountains of paperwork.

The boys have read through every magazine that once were so nearly displayed on the coffee table and taken the newspapers apart for the cartoons (funnies) which is getting less funny by the minute. I run my fingers through my hair, my eye twitches, my foot shakes and I keep filling out paperwork. The receptionist comes out and asks for $350 and we haven’t even started yet. I think, I should be the one getting paid for waiting; straightening up the books over and over and trying to corral two wild Ninjas. I tell her to file it with the insurance and bill me for what is left over, then I feel the earth move and Micah is jumping up in the air and twirling, doing squats, splits, high kicks and hollering, “Keejah” or something like that. And I thought he wasn’t learning anything in Taekwondo classes - - silly me!

Next, I see the water cooler glugging again and I hear munch, munch, munch and Logan has started on yet another package of chips. Suddenly, Micah comes and says “I need to pee”. I start towards the receptionist and she points across the hall. I grab Micah by the hand and off we go across the hall, Logan filling my footsteps, tugging at my blouse and saying, “Memaw, I got to pee too”. Soooo, we find the bathroom and they want to go in the men’s room this time. ( I always take them in the women’s with me) Now they notice the stick figure with the skirt on the door where I am guiding them and refuse to go in. Life is getting more difficult, they want to go in the door with the stick figure with the pants on. I have a peek in the door and see they are the only ones in the men’s room, so I stand outside and wait!

Okay, back to the waiting room where a technician shows up to meet “her little patient”. The boys are unimpressed! I think, okay, it’s been an hour so we are now getting this show on the road, but… An hour later, me and Micah are sitting alone (Pawpaw and Logan headed to the van for a nap), then another “patient” comes in and looks as depressed as if she had eaten a sour pickle. No smiles there when my Ninja jumps up into the air and falls into the floor in splits. They call her in. The door opens, another “patient” comes in and Micah falls into the floor and does a few more carpet angels. Then springing up, he yells Keyah or Keerow or something to that effect. We wait. I squirm! Why in the world did I bring a book? Creak! The door opens and a woman comes (not the one we met) and takes us in. I have to lock my purse up in a locker with a key. Now we are getting down to business.

This child goes into the room and the technician tells us what to expect. He is listening closely. She tells him there will be noise and he can’t move. I’m thinking - - he can’t what? She puts his little hat on and places the cage around his head and gives him a panic button. I’m thinking ah oh! I said, “Micah you are going into the Ninja Cave and you have to be really quiet because you are hiding from the bad guys”. The noise you hear will be like a band with drums. Keep your eyes closed! He doesn’t move a muscle! Later they have to put dye in his arm and he asks how long the needle is. They show him; he says that’s not big. Back into the tube he is going. I tell him the tube and noise reminds me of a spaceship, so this time Ninja is going into space and will hear the spaceship make UFO type sounds. He likes this adventure. He makes it through. He did a good job. I wonder what he was thinking the entire time he was in there. We all praise him. I’m surprised - - all that kicking; squatting; and the carpet angels in the waiting room were worth it after all. I love my little Ninjas. Thanks Pawpaw for driving and dealing with the Ninjas along with me - - I couldn’t do it alone.

Spring Fever

2007-03-18T18:50:00.000-07:00

Theraflu; Mucinex; Alka Seltzer for Colds and Flu; Aspirin; steam; humidifier; and chicken soup too - - all these things and a few remedies more and the germs got tough and knocked me to the floor.

Finally, I dial up the doc’s number and go in for a diagnosis and out I go with a script for Z pack and nothing for halitosis. I blindly fight the traffic to the drugstore; coughing as I go; spitting and spewing. I wonder if this doctor knows what she is doing.

Z pack religiously taken; and high hopes of clearing my sinuses and ending the coughing ‘til I’m shaken. Now 15 days into this and my head she is a spinning with hopes to wipe out this invisible force, but it is clear Z pack she is not a winning. I cough and I spew and I wish for a winter wind to blow through. Ahhhhh, what’s this I say when I get up to spit and hold my ears that are a-thumping. I feel a little winter wind coming through the window and the sinuses are dumping. I take my aspirin and go back and lie down and sweet sleep finally comes. What was that sound, it is the alarm clock's strum. Oh no, it’s time to spring forth and get the coffee brewing. What in the world did this doctor think she was doing! I end up going back to the doc and now it’s determined I have allergies to the pollen in the air - - Zertec; eye drops; and nose spray - - what does she care!

Now I’ve had this cold/allergy for over 20 days. Do I go back to the doctor and try once again and pay copays until I’m broke? Do I play the wheel of diagnosis or DO I just set back and wait until I go into a psychosis?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- choooooooooo!!

Hello Spring!

A Hard Day's Night

2007-02-20T12:36:00.000-08:00

I heard it! The mildest of a little bitty cough. Then the flushed face - - Logan has a cold! I noticed it Sunday afternoon, but thought perhaps it was just a little cough that would go away, but NO, it is now a full fledged cold. To prepare for Monday night I ran to the pharmacy to get Motrin and Tylenol remembering high temperatures usually come during the night. I also had the pharmacist come and find something for the other symptom, a snuffed up nose! Micah was complaining of a bit of a scratchy throat so cough lozenges for a scratchy throat into the basket you go... Okay, Pawpaw was complaining of feeling a cold coming on, all the symptoms combined plus a tummy ache. Let's see now, let me check my list before I leave CVS pharmacy: throat lozenges, Motrin, Tylenol, melting strips for the stuffy nose,Alka Seltzer for colds for Pawpaw, Puffs to blow the noses... Have I forgotten anything? Nope, I'm good to go. I have everything for the long night ahead. I'm so proud of me!

I made Micah read his book from school, fed the boys, gave baths, Logan has already gone to sleep (check the temperature - - 102.7) now it's time to go into action. Motrin for the fever, a melting strip for the nose, a glass of 7-up to make the medicine go down (used to be sugar according to Mary Poppins). Hurry all, we must grab some ZZZZZZZ's before morning. Classical music playing, dog has been out to do her thing, now settle in. Ahhhh, it all went smoothly.

2:00 a.m. the light comes on. Pawpaw says Logan burning up with fever and he can't find the Tylenol. I tell him exactly where it is, and get up to check the fever. It's only 99 degrees. We give him Tylenol, a drink and comfort him and then back to bed. Now the dog opens the door and jumps in bed with me and Micah. Okay, I let her stay. She decides it's time to clean her paws for what seems hours. The classical music sounds like hard rock at this hour of the morning. I look at the clock - - 3 a.m. We still have time for some good sleep. Head hits the pillow. ZZZZZZZ's - - the door opens and here comes Logan wanting in the bed with me. I told him there is a dog and a boy already in my bed so go back to Pawpaw. Okay, he goes. It is now 3:20 a.m. ZZZZZZZZZZ's, then a tug on my arm. Logan says his shirt is wet. I reach and feel nothing, he pulls the shirt off insisting it is wet, and demands another top. I get up. I find a shirt, not the right texture or color so I find one that is comfy and he allows me to put it on. Oh Lord, why did he go to sleep so early last night? Now he is singing and wanting in bed with me no matter what. Micah gets up and stumbles to Pawpaw. Logan and the dog settle in for a long winter's nap. I punch the classical music to OFF. I look at the clock - - 4:30 a.m. Perhaps we can go back to sleep soon. Slumber, sweet slumber when BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! It's 7 a.m. and time to get up. Did I ever go to bed?

It Was A Three Pillow Night

2007-01-12T07:30:00.000-08:00

Memaw, Pawpaw and the boys decided to call it an early night. Lights were switched off; dog was let out to do her last potty of the night; classical music turned on and sweet slumber. NOT!

Footsteps running through the house. Who could that be? Then a voice! Memaw! Memaw! Help! I recognized Logan’s cry for help and met his footsteps, turned on the light and there stood a trembling little boy with nearly digested food from the top of his p.j.’s to the bottom of his feet. Here came Pawpaw too. Scurrying around we managed to clean up, wipe up, change clothes, another pillow, another blanket and back to bed. Then more footsteps - - this time it’s Micah. Memaw, memaw, what’s wrong with him? Possibly the virus Micah! Oh no, am I going to get it? Tell me I’m not going to get it Memaw! Remember last year when I got it? Micah don’t worry. Can I go to school; no one in my class has it. No Micah, its night and school is not in session.

I take this child to bed with me and tell him maybe we won’t get it. He can’t sleep for worrying about it. He wants me to take him somewhere right now where he won’t be around it. It’s now 10 p.m. Calm down Micah and go back to sleep, it’ll be okay.

Back to slumber. NOT! Memaw, Memaw! I smell this horrible smell, turn on the lights and Logan looks like a brown chocolate bear but smells like something that just popped out of the sewer. It’s from neck to toe again. This time I look over the situation and decide a shower is all I can do with this. Strip down, warm water, shower, brown flowing water finally turns clear. Dry off; clean up, new pajamas, new bedding, and new pillow and back to dreamland.

11:45 p.m. Splat, urp, gag, another round of Niagara Falls coming from our little one. Another pillow covered, another blanket, the plastic lined trash can - -clean! The floor is not. Another clean up, more burning the midnight oil, Micah up worrying about catching it, the dog wondering if it’s morning and time to go out again. OKAY, HELP GOD!

1:00 a.m. Footsteps running through the house - - I get up and this time I haven’t been sleeping and neither has Pawpaw. We console our little one, change clothes one more time, and this time he managed to get to the bathroom. We’re all wondering now how we can manage to sleep on the bathroom floor and wait for the next round, it might be easier. Micah is up again, terror in his eyes and worrying, “Am I going to get it Memaw, and what time does school start?”

I decide I will sit up and wait until the next round, but Chick talks me into going back to sleep so I try to, but can’t for waiting for the next round which comes. I get up; he made it to the trash can this time. Thank you Jesus! Now, we all settle down. I’ve started 2 loads of laundry and its 3 a.m.

4:00 a.m. - - Logan wants a drink. Pawpaw gives him a Capri Sun. It rumbles down in the darkest recesses of the belly, it roars and hold on to your hats, here it comes again!
He made it to the lined trash can. No mess, no fuss this time.

5:40 a.m. - - 2 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Suddenly it’s time to get up. Micah is shaking me and saying, “I’ve got to get to school Memaw”. I decided after staying up most of the night just to keep Micah home today; it’s now 20 minutes until 8 a.m. and he is wanting to go to the safety net of school where all the germs begin, but he thinks it’s a safe haven, so we jump up like Jack in the Boxes and magically he is ready and out the door. Logan is up and wanting to eat and drink. The Long Night is Over for now…

Sail Phone

2007-01-06T12:48:00.000-08:00

Two years ago my husband (who is the brunt of lots of my humor, like Fang was for Phyllis Diller) went fishing with Jerry, my cousin’s husband, at Lake Lavon. He was recovering from surgery so I wanted to check on him after I realized he was out more than 5 hours, so I decided to call his cell phone. No answer! This is not unusual for him because he is not cell phone savvy and leaves it off most of the time unless he wants to call someone. I tried to figure out how I could contact him when suddenly a light bulb went off - - I could get Jerry’s cell phone number from my cousin Joyce, Jerry’s wife-- what a novel idea. I called her and she gave me Jerry’s number. I checked with her to see if he answers his phone when someone calls or leaves it off. She said he actually does answer his phone. We hung up after shooting the breeze and catching up on family news, and I called the number.

Jerry answered. I asked him how Chick was doing and Jerry said, “He’s fine. Do you want to talk to him and I said, “Yes, tell him I will call his phone if he will turn it on”. I didn’t want to use up Jerry’s phone minutes. Jerry said, “No, he can talk on mine, just a minute”. I heard him say, “Here Cuz” as he handed Chick the phone. Chick answered sounding light hearted and giddy - - the fish were biting! Apparently all was well and he planned to fish until dark. I said, “Great, see you about dark thirty” and we hung up.

Apparently, right after the end of our conversation Chick got a bite, the bobber went under; the fishing pole started to bend with the catch when all of a sudden it hits the hand he is holding the cell phone in and ‘ping’ it flies about 6 foot through the air and glug, glug, glug. Jerry missed the whole thing as he was turned in another direction. Chick had to tell him his sail phone just went about 18 feet deep… End of a good time, but years of good story telling and it’s not about the fish that got away – it’s about the sail phone!

I Remember

2007-01-01T18:17:00.000-08:00

I REMEMBER

Today is January 1, 2007 and a day of remembrance of a year that is gone, and the people that went with it. Chick and I watched Sunday Morning this week and the tributes to famous people who passed in 2006. Many of the people I didn’t know, some I recognized, but it got me to remembering people I loved that I knew personally and not from a distance.

Goodbye A.J. , you were a rock when we needed stability in a sinking ship. You reached out to all of us and then you were gone. I watched a video of farewells to people who left the company we worked for and there you were with that sweet smile and words of wisdom. I smiled when I saw you, and wished we had spent more time talking.

Goodbye Dee, you left just after you retired from work and I know you wanted time with your Russell whom you loved and your children - - you were gone too soon as well. I have video of you too when you came to our fish fry. The laughter we shared, the stories and not enough time. You were fun and fearless, visiting a country where your son was in the Peace Corp and the account of your trip was fascinating. You cried when you first arrived in Cameroon, Africa and wanted to come home, but you stuck it out and kept a wonderful journal to share with all of us. I still have my copy. Thanks for sharing your life.

Goodbye my Dearest Aunt Ruth. As soon as I retired you left us. It was not a good time for you to leave, because I wanted to spend time with you now that I could, but God had another plan for you. I’ll never forget you and the year I asked you if when you left this earth if I could have your cross stitch of an old Country Store that reminded me of Grandma and Grandpa’s country store. Little did I know you would go home and work under a magnifying glass to make me my very own and then while you were in California visiting your kids have uncle Red deliver it to me for Christmas. What a wonderful gift of love! You had so many talents, but the best was making us all feel special, because we were special to you. I miss you, but know there is a time for us all to go and your time had come. See you again someday! It is promised!

Farewell Aunt Lena, I’ll miss talking to you long distance. You were a light in my life as well. I loved calling you and hearing the latest in Indiana; however you had grown sad since the loss of Shirley, Chuck and Jerry. You always reminded me you couldn’t live forever, but I’m selfish, I wanted you to be there when I come back to Indiana. I have such wonderful memories of you and Hosmer before we moved to Texas. I know you are happy once again and my memories will sustain me until we meet again.

Johnnie Ruth, what a joy you were, a heart as big as the state of Texas. Our boys were your Angel family when you learned we were adopting them. I wish we could have all hung out together more. You reached out to our daughter when very few people would and you always told me to tell her you loved her unconditionally. Again, you left us before I got to hang out with you much, but no more pain and you haven’t changed a bit except you are walking on streets paved with Gold and you met your maker who had to have said, “A job well done my child”.

I am better off for having you all in my life and when I count my blessings I will always remember…

Here Kitty, Kitty!

2006-12-11T17:00:00.000-08:00

This afternoon my husband, who can’t take his eyes off his bird feeder (loves those birds) which is located on the front porch said in a whisper, “There’s a cat on our porch”. He loves cats and we don’t have one. He said, “I wonder if I creep up on it and say ‘Here kitty, kitty, if it will come to me?”

Well, he was creeping up to the door and he mentioned, This cat looks like a Manx like Smokey, the cat we used to have. I held the dog, Molly, while he opened the door. What a surprise for the both of them! The cat looked up at the same time Chick was saying “Here kitty, kitty” and it was a beautiful cream colored bob tail, bob cat. It took off and Chick was chasing it. I don’t know what he thought he would do with it if he caught it!

I looked out the side window as it was gracefully leaping through the air, like a ballerina with a fluffy ball of a tail and spots splashed all over it’s coat. I ran to the back door and it was gone! Darn! What a beautiful creature. I wish I could have gotten a video shot of it.

Now though, I will worry every time the boys or Chick go outside and accidentally leave the back door standing open. Here Kitty, Kitty, might come in and have a bite with us and of us.

The Two Christmas Turkeys

2006-11-26T12:37:00.001-08:00

THE TWO CHRISTMAS TURKEYS

Yesterday I thought we were through with turkeys, but I encountered a couple of them at Linens and Things. Let me go back to the beginning of this story.

Read my last year’s blog (January 2006) to see what happened to my former tree and you’ll see why I was out searching for one in the first place.

We had a pleasant day at my daughter’s for Thanksgiving this year. She, her husband Bill, and my granddaughter, Ashley prepared the meal. All we had to do was get there and eat…which we did. My plan for the rest of the week was to get a Christmas tree advertised at 50% off $199.00 - - pre-lit, remote control, the works. Okay also there was a coupon for an additional 20% off. The catch: 2 days only, Friday and Saturday. I woke up Friday sick as a mule (as they say) with diarrhea and nausea. This lasted all day. I couldn’t leave the room with the john in it. How long will it last? I figured no more than 24 hours.

Saturday arrived with me feeling like I fell off the house and I still was very ill and me and john were best pals. Look out! Here I come again! I finally took Childrens Imodium I bought for the boys last year. It held! I left the house and ran to the local Linens and Things. Problem one: I was at Bed, Bath and Beyond. I called my neighbor who said go across the highway and there you will find it. I did!

A woman and man got out of their car at the same time I did. She couldn’t find the way into the store, I pointed her the way. I grabbed a cart on the way in and found the one box left with the advertised Christmas trees. The box had a sign on it advertising the 50% off. I thought it was an empty box the floor model had been in. I turned and the man was taking my cart. He said, “Is this your cart?” I said, “Yes” and took it back (smiling, nice though). Then I went to the store clerk to follow protocol and ask if I could have the floor model when I turned back I saw the man and woman tackling the box and loading it in their cart. I went back to them and told them I was asking the store clerk if I could have the floor model and they just put their cart in high gear and sped away. I rushed up to the assistant at the store and asked if there would be anymore trees and he said “NO, we had a 100 when we started.” And looked at me as though I should have gotten there on Friday. So much for good customer service!

I went to my car and sat. I was upset at the turkeys who got my tree, and at my timing. I’m always a day late and a dollar short – always!

After I sat there and decided there must have been a reason for the timing to be off. Perhaps the lights wouldn’t work on the tree they gobbled up before me. Then I got this little devilish smile and even wished the tree lights wouldn't work after they got it up. They were snotty acting and I wanted to point her the way again but not with the nice finger. Oh well!

Not to be out-done, I called the phone number listed on the coupon and found out they had a store in Plano. I rushed there and found my tree. The 20% off didn’t work for me as this was a store buster item, so I still paid more than I wanted too, but my sister-in-law and niece gave our family $100 and told me to use it anyway I wanted to. The looks on the boys faces when I plugged the tree lights in was worth all the trouble I went to. We didn’t need Christmas lights. Light seemed to reflect off the beauty of our boys faces when they stated decorating the tree.

Micah said, “Memaw this is my favorite time of the year, especially the music, the tree, and the feeling of Christmas!” God, I thank you for the spirit of the season. Joyce and Cynthia, I thank you for the early Christmas present. It is the gift that will keep on giving for years to come.

2006-11-05T15:10:00.000-08:00

Oh no, my dog ate chocolate!

The list I received from the former master of our dog Molly, listed onions and chocolate as being poison to dogs. Okay, so when would a dog get the opportunity to eat onions and I’m thinking “What dog would be stupid enough to desire something poison”? So, I’m about to find out.

The boys and I came home from the store and Chick greeted us with, “Guess we’re about to find out if chocolate poisons dogs”! I said, “Why”? Molly, our dog, was curious and got into the Halloween bags and ate a couple of snickers bars. She was smiling at me like she really enjoyed it, and I’m thinking this dog is ill!!!!! I thought and thought, “What can I do? It’s late. I can’t get in touch with a veterinarian at this hour.” I go to the Internet and pull up Ask.com. Not much help, but then I didn’t ask the right question so I ask it in a more comprehensive sentence (Will my dog die from eating chocolate) and up comes several answers about dogs eating chocolate.

One guy states his grandmother gave her doggy a chocolate bar as a treat every day and the dog lived to be 15 years old and didn’t die from eating chocolate - - it died from being hit by a car. Another person states their dog S _ _ t its brains out, and yet another stated the dog ate all the brownies and did get sick, but only for a night…diarrhea! I watched the dog, she was smiling. She was sniffing around for more Halloween candy. She was going to die happy!

So, I stared at her most of the night. It’s not enough I have two little boys to care for, now we have a dog too, and the boys are asking for another dog to keep Molly company when we’re not here. Oh deliver me! Anyway, Molly lays there on my bed at 10:00 p.m. and looks at me. She’s thinking, “Why am I so popular all of a sudden?” Finally at 11:00 p.m. I feel comfortable enough to go to sleep. I look up when I feel whiskers, and they’re not my husband’s whiskers. They are Molly whiskers and she’s looking me eyeball to eyeball - - I say “Lay down Molly, I’m sleepy”. She won’t, she shoves her face into mine and looks at me with this stern look. I remember! She ATE CHOCOLATE!!!! She is about to S _ _t her brains out! My feet hit the floor running and her in front of me galloping to the door. I hook her up to her leash and she flies out and squats. The chocolate crisis is over…for now!

Ghosts of Memories Past

2006-10-20T06:48:00.001-07:00

Ghosts of Memories Past

We lived very quietly in a pink brick house on Hwy. 5 where the asphalt plant now stands. I look as I go by there ever so often and wonder if what we thought we heard was real when we lived there so many years ago…

In 1970 we moved into a pink, brick house on the hill on Hwy. 5, close to Stewart Road. Back then, Stewart Road only had 3 houses on it and the rest of the road was a meandering trail of country road. We lived directly across from where Stewart Road dead ends onto Hwy. 5.

After the move we realized the original family who built the house had really loved it. It must have been a grand old house at one time. The owners had planted trees and flowers so there was always something growing at different intervals during the year: plum trees; pecan trees, roses; tiger lilies; figs; flowers I don’t know the name of - - and all around the property were beautiful mimosa trees. One was a giant mimosa tree that grew at the back of the house between the garage and the living room. One afternoon I was walking through the house carrying laundry to the linen closet when I noticed a fluttering out of the corner of my eye and saw what looked like large bees flying all around the large Mimosa tree. I walked to the window and looked out. The bees were not bees at all but a swarm of hummingbirds drinking nectar from each bloom. It was the only time I would ever see that many hummingbirds at once. It was a beautiful sight, and before video cameras. Darn it!

Angie was 5 years old when we moved there. We, as a family, found the home inviting. There was a double car garage to play in and a breezeway between the garage and the house. The breezeway was truly a breezeway; screened to keep the bugs off us the breezeway caught the north and south breezes so it was fun to sit and ponder, write, and let children play and be safe. I kept two of my friend’s children one summer while I was waiting for my second child to be born, Holly, and the kids played on that porch all summer long.

From the breezeway into the house was an old country kitchen with a very large pantry. A good kitchen to gather round the table with friends and family for meals and a good place for brewing coffee, popping corn and playing cards and games. The living room faced east and the sun came up and lit the room with its powerful light, and as the sun was going down in the evening it reflected across the living room. Always, a bright sun filled house filled with positive vibes - - a fun house to live in.

There was a large wood burning fireplace with a brick hearth in the middle of the living room to sit around while the logs crackled. We had plenty of cold nights there because one thing the house lacked was insulation. We put up with it because enjoyed everything else about it. There were two fairly large bedrooms and a bathroom in between them, and another bedroom on the other side of the house close to the kitchen. Angie slept in that bedroom and we slept on the other side of the house. We felt safe there. The land sloped from ground level to deep on the side of the house where our daughter slept. The French style windows rolled out and were narrow so no one climb in through them. Bolts were on the doors as well as the regular locks. I tell you all this so you have a good picture of things to come.

Many nights I stayed up after Angie and Chick went to bed because it was my quiet time and I could read my books. One night while reading a book I suddenly felt a presence in the room, as though someone was watching me. I was lying on the couch when the floor next to me creaked. I sat straight up and looked around to see if Chick or Angie had gotten out of the bed – then I went to Angie’s room and she was fast asleep. I then checked our bedroom and Chick sleeping as well. So, I thought, “Um, must be my imagination”, (and I wasn’t even reading a scary book). I laid back down on the couch and was back into reading when it sounded again, like someone walking close to me wearing a skirt or a raincoat because of the swishing sound. It was eerie. I got up and again walked through the house and the bedrooms. My family was not stirring so I thought perhaps I should go to bed. I climbed in the bed close to Chick and snuggled up to go to sleep. I had just dozed off when we heard Angie’s footstep as she came running through the house screaming in terror that someone was walking around in her room. I jumped out of the bed with Chick close behind. We grabbed the shotgun from the closet and began our search. We called out – no answer! We walked together very tightly as though we were one person and went from room to room. The doors were bolted; there was no one in the closets or under the beds. When were satisfied were were alone in the house we all climbed into one bed together and huddled listening and wondering what we heard. Was it just our imaginations all at once? Chick said he had heard something earlier too.

I never mentioned this to anyone, it was outlandish, but I have seen a few outlandish things that are indescribable before. This wasn’t the first strange occurrence in my life.
However, I worked at a little advertising guide that also contracted out with the local newspaper because our little company had purchased a state of the art printing press. Each day as the newspaper rolled off the press as a perk we could get the paper “hot off the press”. The first articles read were the obituaries as you tend to do when living in a small town and knowing everyone. The name of the first obituary said Susie Holloman, which sounded very familiar to me, Miss Susie Holloman! I kept saying that name out loud and trying to remember where I had met this lady before. The article went on to say Miss Susie was a retired school teacher. I repeated the name out loud and told my bosses’ wife the name seemed familiar but I could not place her. My bosses wife said, “Well it should sound familiar, you live in her house she and her dad and sister had built. They were the original owners.” According to the paper she passed away at the hour the creaking and swishing sounds were being heard by us. Goosebumps rose up on my arms and the hair stood up on my neck. She really DID love that house!

Angels come in the form of teachers!

2006-09-28T19:54:00.000-07:00

Today we had a conference with Micah’s teacher to find out how he is progressing and she held his little heart right in her hand. She said he is special to her and we know she is special to him. She works with his minor quirks and never makes him feel different. He really is not different just has more challenges than a lot of kids. Mrs. M works with all her students needs and helps make them comfortable while learning in the classroom. I have a feeling every student is special to her, but I count us as truly blessed because she is one of the many teachers in the education system that makes a child feel very special just for being who they are. He is excelling this year in all his classes.

Last week Micah cried because we had an appointment with the dentist the next day and he would be missing school. When I asked why he was crying – if he was scared of going to the dentist, he replied, “No, because I won’t get to see my teacher tomorrow”! How many teachers can truly say their student would cry because they were going to miss one day with them?

If we can get more teachers like this through the rest of our boys school years it will make our lives easier. As I have said before - - we need a village to help us raise these boys. Some very special people came into our lives to help form this village of support and love. We only need about 20 more so come to the village campfire and join us.

Holy Molar - - Part 3

2006-07-24T14:01:00.000-07:00

HOLY MOLAR- part 3

School is about to start; haircuts are to be had; school clothes and supplies to be bought; routines to begin once again. The long REALLY HOT summer is supposed to be cooling down. I guess it is. The weatherperson said 100 degree temps over for now and only in 90’s for next two weeks. Micah and Logan have dental appointments. They, previously, were on Medicaid and now we have private dental insurance, so we have to find a new dentist for the little fellas. I heard of a pediatric dentist my co-worker took her son to, and then stories of having to sell your house to pay for her services, so I select another one my dentist’s office refers me to.

We walk into the office and I think, ah oh, we may be in trouble. There are televisions, games, colored walls like rainbows, expensive everything around the room, plants, movies, you name it they have it. It’s a kid haven! Micah and Logan are so busy looking around at everything, even televisions in the ceiling while they are being examined that they don’t know this is a place that drills for gold! RUN, SANDY, RUN!

I complete the paperwork, my bladder is starting to bulge, and my pocketbook is starting to heat up. I’m getting scared and they are not working on me. I’m thinking of the money tree that dried up in the back yard with the work on my molar and wondering what this is going to cost me. I then calm myself because I can feel a stroke coming on, blood pressure is on the rise, but then again, this is only for cleanings. How much could two routine cleanings cost - - you know--a routine visit for “baby teeth”.

The nice lady comes to the door and chimes “Logan and Micah” we (like sheep) follow her down the hall. There next to our nice chairs is a computer (to tally up the bill) a television for the patient to watch while sitting up and one in the ceiling while they are getting their little baby teeth cleaned. We are directed to sit down and watch a film about two darling little dogs going to the dentist, explaining every step of the way for cleaning and what each instrument is for. Looks like fun, but remember, I’ve just been drilled for gold? I, in my recent encounter, am thinking this must be the way the devils office would be - - a nice chair, soft music that lulls you to sleep, then the bill! Dentists do charge the hell out of you for services! Both boys do well through the cleaning as they watch television in the ceiling. .

They are given little “gift” bags of fluoride, toothbrush, floss, and toothpaste. Then Micah is led into another room for panoramic x-rays. I think of Niagara Falls when I think panoramic. This is mine, Chick and the boys’ vacation! It was sort of the same when I got the news he had 3 cavities in his baby teeth and it would cost a few dollars less than $1,000 to get them taken care of. They want to do a new procedure I had never heard of called a pulpmotomy or something of that sort. A what! After all (says the greedy dentist) the molar should last Micah until he is 10 years old or 11 and this is the way we need to go to keep this tooth. Today’s bill for cleaning these little bitty baby teeth is $600. GIVE ME THE NOVACAINE PLEASE, NOW, AND MAKE IT A DOUBLE!!!!!

Holy Molar - - part 2

2006-07-24T13:43:00.000-07:00

HOLY MOLAR - - part 2

Okay, I’ve meditated, ready for my next appointment at the endodonist. Surely this is it! Surely this won’t take long! I’m prepared. I didn’t drink anything on the way down and I’m dry as a bone - - no Depends. I know I can make it through this session!

Back into the dentist chair! Goggles on, mouth open, rubber dam on the tooth, two heads in front of my view so hold on to your x-rays and seatbelts - - here we go again. (Dear God, why couldn’t I have been blessed with good teeth?) I’m calm, they’re smiling and now it’s down to business. The drill comes on and the pain begins again. This time we make some head-way after the doctor stops everything and tells me he might break the cap or go through the tooth and that would be all she wrote - - either have to pull the tooth ($1500 down the drain or get a new cap $1500 more dollars). I begin to pray. I, of course, can’t talk, only comprehend this news is not good. Two hours later he hits the gold. His assistant told me I was a challenge. Why does this not make me feel good? I am tired of hearing I am a challenge for dentists. I don’t want to be the Poster Child for bad teeth, though it seems to run in our family. I made it through, the canal has been found, success, lift-off - - to the bathroom again, but calmly. Mouth is numb! One more appointment and I’m through with this tooth for now. More exciting molar stories to come…stay tuned!

Holy Molar

2006-07-23T16:08:00.000-07:00

The past month has been another scorcher for all of us, but the biggest scorcher of all was on my pocketbook.

I started having some pain in my jaw recently that would not go away. I couldn’t tell if it was in my sinuses, my left ear or a tooth. Because popcorn hulls have been known to crawl down and rest way under the gum and tooth I thought perhaps if I flossed enough the culprit would appear and all pain would be over. NOT!

I called my dentist who was in Honduras on a mission trip. So I saw his associate who had my left lower jaw x-rayed. No problem seen in the x-ray! I thought about having my ear cut off next, because if not the tooth it must be the ear causing the pain. Another appointment could be made if I needed one the receptionist said. Okay, I’ll wait since it was suggested the pain might be from a bruise from chomping my jaws too much on food. This pain went on for some sleepless nights and restless days, when I called my dentist once again and told them “Pain, pain, I’ve got pain!” Another visit to the dentist’s office, another check on the tooth - - another appointment, antibiotics and back home to suffer. About a week later, back to the dentists office (He’s back from Honduras), says root canal, but he can’t do it. Roots too small - - specialist needed! Now I head for the Endodonist one week later, and more x-rays (put me to sleep please) for now I’ve learned it is going to cost $1500 on a tooth that has already cost me more than the cost of 5 months of groceries--it’s a capped tooth. I asked if I get to keep my cap. The answer is yes if they don’t crack it during the drilling.

The digging for gold begins! Three, I say 3 hours later I’m squirming in the chair. Bladder is full, mouth is full and jaw is throbbing, toes are curling and spit is flying! I can’t talk. Do I just act like I pass out and pee in the chair or just act like I had heavy sweats from the drilling and pain? What signals do I give that I’m about to burst. Yikes, the nerve has been hit - - gold has been found, they see I’m about to die from SOMETHING so they temporarily fill the tooth and send me packing until next week when we will dig for gold again., I jumped up out of the chair and said “Are we taking a bathroom break?” Neither one of them are squirming. They are cool as cucumbers. They point the way to the room I want more than anything else in the world at this time. I head in that direction nearly running. A little girl runs in and closes the door just before I leap through the door. She apparently is having a stomach ache - - she is staying for a while. I stand on one foot and then the other. My hand nearly goes between my legs as I did as a little girl to hold back the yellow river. Finally, the door unlatches, I nearly run over her getting into that room to sit on that wonderful cold throne, and save myself from further embarrassment. Ahhhhhh, relief. Next week I’ll wear a Depends or do without liquids for a couple of days before my appointment. More to come…

Gone to the dogs or dawg!!!!!!

2006-07-13T15:27:00.000-07:00

We love Molly, but dogs are another form of torture aren't they? Last night I went to bed and she got up there and stared at me. I said, "Go to bed Molly", she stared. She looked like "Well you fool don't you see I'm trying to tell you something?" Okay, okay, so Molly "What the hey do you want girl?" She said, "Come with me and I'll show you". I did!

She went running to the back door - - oh no, not the convenient front door. I let her out thinking she had to poop. Nope! She wanted to find out what was behind the junk in our garage. I was afraid it might be a snake. Heck, as messy as that garage is it could have been a Coyote or elephant. Okay, Molly, enough of the games I said. She looked, ohhhhhh so disappointed. Okay, back to bed. Pat, pat, pat, the bed for Molly to come hither, but she looks like, "I told you something is wrong and you are still insisting on bed" Okay, what could it be Molly? I pulled her down beside me and started petting her and rubbing her fat belly. (Who would have ever thought I would have gone to the dogs like I have?). This little tummy started gurgling and I thought oh no, here she goes. Molly the farting dog! I got up and she followed and I gave her 1/2 of a little pink Pepto Bismol and she looked at me with a smile on her face and said, "Hey woman, you finally read my mind" - - back to bed we went.

Templin Reunion '06

2006-06-15T16:10:00.000-07:00

I noticed at the Templin Reunion we didn't have very many meaningful conversations because we were all so busy trying to keep an eye on the kids in the pool and make the rounds to say "Hidy Do" to everyone there. Now I need to really visit with them. I reflect on what I learned about each individual when I returned home and the most remarkable thing I remember is Chick's brother-in-law who is nearing 90 telling me "Hidy Do" and then I asked how he was and he said, "Pretty good". The most recent doctor's visit he was told to bring all his medications and when he presented his medication to the nurse, she looked at him as though he were a feeble old codger and said, "Mr. Jenkins, you were supposed to bring all of your medications with you". "I did", he said. He had one bottle of baby aspirin with him because he takes a baby aspirin once a day. Wouldn't that be great! And... here's the real interesting fact - - he smokes like a chimney and has for years. I think the cigarettes will get him and he won't live to be an old man - - what do you think?

Be Careful What You Pray for!

2006-06-06T18:15:00.000-07:00

The second week of retirement my dad got really sick and nearly died. My sister, nephew and myself got him to the hospital just in time. We were told a few more hours and he would have been gone - -respiratory failure. Thus began a 2 week hospitalization. I was home now so I went to the hospital daily and to mom’s to check on her. I wanted to handle as much as I could and lift their burden a tiny bit. I realized how much I was needed and how my retirement came at the right time even though I second and third guessed my decision after the fact.

The 3rd week of my retirement our clothes dryer quit as I mentioned in my previous blog. If that wasn’t enough, the riding lawn mower sputtered and just stopped. A few days later we replaced the lawn mower. I said, “Lord how much more can I stand?” The day we replaced the lawn mower - - the air conditioner quit working. It wasthe hottest day of the year thus far. Summer and retirement were in full throttle. The fan motor had gone out on the heat pump and both heat pumps needed Freon. Oh boy, are they going to need Freon? I just heard the weather and it’s shooting up in the 100’s and we haven’t even gotten a good start on summer yet. The same day I opened the door to the laundry room and the bi-folding door started leaning over and then falling. I caught it and took it to the garage where it still is. I’m afraid to put it back up, it might fall on one of us and kill us.

Monday morning, week 5 of retirement, I opened the back door and the door knob came off in my hand - - broken! We replaced the door knob yesterday. But, why? Today, the boys came running out the back door to play outside and give more chiggers a ride and a permanent home on their skin. I noticed the back door didn’t close and the red wasps who have now made nests in my white car door, garage, the fort, and sand box, were trying to make their way inside the house. I ran to shut the door. Wham! Wouldn’t shut! Wham again! Still wouldn’t shut. Looked the situation over and noticed the screws had wallowed out of the holes and the door was ready to come down. I got the screwdriver (didn’t have the heart to tell Chick) and engineered it the best I can. Hopefully tomorrow it won’t fall off and hurt someone. Then we got a call, Chick has to be at the hospital on Monday for a kidney sonogram. The tests showed something. Lord, I think I’m through now. You said you wouldn’t give me more than I can handle. I don’t think I can handle anymore. Please send your loving angels to surround us.

FIRE IN THE HOLE, FIRE IN THE HOLE

2006-05-24T09:40:00.000-07:00

How much more exciting can retirement get? I don’t know because I think if I go back to work the chaos will end and what fun would that be?

About 2 weeks ago, I noticed my clothes dryer was making a bong, bong, bong, noise. I stopped the cycle and shifted the load, bongedy, bongedy, bongedy the sound went instead of bong, bong, bong. Well, it still dried the clothes so I learned to live with the noise. This Monday the sound stopped - - easy listening once again. I thought, “Could it be it fixed itself”? How nice! Lady Luck was smiling on me! Yeah, right. While loading some more clothes in the washer I brushed up against the dryer and it felt like a hot steam iron, so it scared me and I switched it off and unplugged it. However, the clothes were dry and I hung them up and decided perhaps the dryer just needed to cool off from the drying cycle.

Welllllllllllllllll, today I got up, bathed myself and Logan and dressed him. I decided I wanted to wear a pair of pants that were wrinkled and just needed a couple of turns in the dryer! Did I say the dryer? I meant the fire ball. I threw my pants in the dryer and immediately the smell of smoke came drifting into the kitchen were I was having my final cup of morning java. Logan came running through the house, “I smell smoke Memaw”. Dark smoke was billowing out of the laundry room. I ran to the dryer and pulled the plug out of the wall, pulled my wrinkled pants out of the dryer, left the dryer door open and ran for a spray bottle. The only spray bottle I owned was full of Windex. I then grabbed the 21 year old fire extinguisher and read (rather quickly) the instructions for activation. I opened the dryer and there was a fire glow on the dryer drum (coming from deep in the inner workings), smoke was billowing out, the dog was barking, the smoke detectors were detecting, Logan was asking a bazillion questions and I was pulling the lever and spraying the inside of the dryer and inside the filter trap. More smoke billowed out and it was getting choky so I called 911, took Logan out to the van, put the dog on the outside cable and we waited. My neighbor Benny came riding up on his Harley, because Lois (my good neighbor) called him to come over and check on us. He took Logan and carried him around while I took the firemen inside. The police arrived first and then the ambulance. No one was hurt other than my feelings. They had the guy with the heat sensor camera come. He was walking around checking for fire in the walls. The dog was barking. Logan was asking questions, “Are these all good citizens Memaw” and we were about to be late for Micah’s 1st grade awards presentations.

I combed my hair, put on a skirt, combed Logan’s hair, brought the dog in, thanked the neighbor and the “good citizens” and off we drove to the awards. We made it, and on time! Little Micah had no idea what all we did to make this happen, but when he walked in he started looking everywhere to see if anyone showed up for him. And there we were waving at him from the back of the auditorium and him waving back. My heart felt good! Just another Madcap day in the life of retirement! Gee, I’m glad I could be there to see that smile of joy on his face as he waved and waved and waved with a big old happy smile on his face. God, how I love those little boys! The new dryer will arrive on Friday!

Traveling down the highway of life...

2006-05-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

I've been gone for a few days to visit my daughter in Mount Pleasant. I had about 2 hours of quiet time on my drive there (Logan of course was in the backseat, but reasonably quiet for Logan). I thought about my life and reflected on what went wrong and what went right. Seems what went wrong totally outnumbered the right by a zillion to one. Anyway, I enjoyed my few days with my daughter, but my observations were about how God gave us all this strange and wacky way of getting rid of waste and it seems to take lots of time to do it and lots of little rooms to do it in. My daughter's dogs were going in and out of the house to "do their thing" while I was there. The cat has a box to do "his thing" in, and birds fly over our heads, "splat" doing their thing. Then it's the fish tank dipping out their little strings of poop after they do "their thing".

Well, on with the story... Angie and I took Logan with us shopping yesterday and today and it was "do you have a public bathroom" question at every other shop while Logan and I studied who had clean bathrooms and who didn't. I think Angie was wearing a catheter or diaper because she never once asked that question or went with us to "do our thing". Take my advice, don't drink a 1/2 pot of coffee before you go shopping! She couldn't believe we had to really go that often, but when nature calls you better answer. Logan got up this morning and told me he was really sweaty because the front of his pajamas was wet. Ummm, seems the sheet was wet and the mattress too. That was some sweating he did. You can see when he asks I find a bathroom or tree for him and quickly!

Our two and a half days in Mount Pleasant went fast and then it was time to take the 2 hour trip back home. Neither one of us took a bottle of water and we tried to dry out so there would be no stops home so we could get home before dark. About midway between Mount Pleasant and Sulphur Springs we encountered numerous and I do mean n u m e r o u s big trucks on the road. Passing, passing, passing them all and going about 80 mph to get home I got behind one that seemed to be losing fluid and it was gathering on my windshield. I turned on my windshield wipers and white muck went all across the windows and I could see nothing but frosted glass. When I got closer to the truck in front of me I noticed lettering that spelled T Y S O N and I don't believe it was Mike. No, it was Tyson Chicken, and I had chicken shit smeared all across the front of my window and it was stuck like glue. I kept pressing the window cleaner button but it only got worse. The window appeared as though we had been in a snow storm and we were in the middle of no where with zilch water bottles. I drove in this fog until I hit the town of Sulphur Springs, pulled into a filling station, but this time not to use the bathroom but to clean the bathroom (my windshield) and it took some hard scrubbing to get it all off. So remember this, the next time you buy Tyson Chickens think about what was inside those creatures - - chicken will stick to your ribs all right! Foul fowl!

Itching for Summer to be over!

2006-05-09T10:41:00.000-07:00

Itching for summer to be over !

What is 1/150th of an inch in diameter and makes a 200 pound plus woman miserable?

You got it! It’s a chigger! The chigger brought the whole chigger valley with them when they came to dine on my lower extremities. I have been itching as though Poison Ivy came to live with me.

It all started on Wednesday when I was running through the grass (weeds) to get a kite to fly for Logan and Micah. There was not a stir of wind blowing, but they thought if I could get the kite high enough there might be some currents left over from the breezes available yesterday. I worked until the hot flashes had turned me a bright red and my feet began to throb, and then I called quits.

While out there I prided myself that the bumble bees bobbing close by didn’t sting me, the red wasps already in full flight passed me by, and the fireants were still under ground gearing up for summer battle - - home free! However, Thursday morning Logan had his hand down the front of his shorts scratching, and I was starting to itch in my upper thighs, and above and below my panty line. I took a look and evaluated our situation. We had spots all over us spaced out about every inch and ½. Boy did we itch? We took turns taking hot, soapy bathes. I covered our red bumps with Cortizone. No help! Still itching! I realized we had been attacked by the same summer varmints we had last year - - CHIGGERS! They love me and Logan for some reason. Off I drove to CVS to get a sack full of remedies: a bite pen, bite gel, powder, bath lotion, etc. I’ve tried the home remedies on myself: nail polish, hydrogen peroxide, antibiotic ointment- - still itching!

Please God, let summer zoom by!!!!

Retirement

2006-05-04T15:10:00.000-07:00

Monday, May 1, 2006

I’m up! It’s 5:00 a.m. - - something feels not quite right. I am checking the weather to see what I should wear, but hey, wait; I don’t have to wear anything today. I’m, I’m, I’m (I can’t say it) reeeeeeeetiiiiiirrrrrrreeeeddddddd! Huh, could it be so? How could that be? I remember not long ago wondering if I should order a new ashtray for my desk and struggling with my mini skirt as I twirled around in my desk chair to run down to the courthouse to get our supplies for the office. What happened? It’s a time capsule…

Later, still youthful, I was wearing my navy pilgrim shoes with the big buckles and the block heels along with a navy blue jacket and gray slacks (still a size 10) and feeling very proud I no longer needed an ashtray at my desk because I kicked the habit. I was now ordering supplies from the office supply and not having to run to the courthouse to get our supplies. We were really moving up.

Years passed! The styles changed, now we were wearing creased denim jeans and sports jackets with our high heels. I was cute! We had extra starch put in those jeans, but boy did they chaff the inner thighs by the end of the day. Retirement - - who needs it. I’m young and have miles to go before I sleep (retire).

100 pounds later and now wearing a muu muu style dress (but a good fabric) and still dressy, I was wearing wedge heels and thinking about a new job. This old job was 22.5 years at the same job and watching the place dismantle and fall to pieces. We won’t even talk about the employment before that or this would be a long novel - - 10 years at the Penny Saver, and 1 year at the Baptist Church where I mimeographed the church bulletins, wiped noses and butts for the daycare, collected fees for daycare; made deposits for the church and the daycare; took kids to Kindergarten twice a day; played nurse when a scrape occurred, cooked when the regular cook was out, took care of the nursery when the workers were out. You name it - - I did it and was proud to be a multi-tasker. However, I was losing my religion so I had to move on. Working for Collin County Mental Health Mental Retardation taught me lots of things. It taught me everyone has issues of some type.

Well, off to Unicare (a change in jobs) in my jeans, capris, and sandals or Nikes, this was a job where you could look as good as you wanted or do nothing at all because all the customers were on the phone. They could care less what you looked like. They wanted help! They wanted good customer service, and the boss wanted numbers. This was assembly line on the phone, so 7 months of that and I was ready to go once again. Now I began to think about age and retirement, but still, it seemed WAY DOWN THE ROAD! I was fortunate enough to obtain a position with PISD and figured I would be good there until I got old and then retired, but ah oh! Six years down the road, many pounds and wrinkles later --screech!!!!!
IT HAPPENED! RETIREMENT! IT HURTS! IT FEELS FUNNY! IT TAKES GETTING USED TO! I’LL WRITE MORE LATER. I DON’T KNOW IF I LIKE IT. MY SCHEDULE IS OFF! I MISS MY OFFICE BUDS! MORE TO COME….

History Repeats Itself

2006-03-20T18:05:00.000-08:00

They say (whoever "they" is) that history repeats itself, and it has. Last week I noticed Logan had a new haircut, 2 long sides and a burr in the middle. He was smiling so cute and I kept thinking there was definately something different about this little feller. I went in the bedroom and found the evidence, hair and scissors. Finally my eyes focused and I realized he was still at barbering. He's either going to be a wrestler, boxer, barber or handyman when he grows up. Last night Micah came running into the living room with his mouth held open and eyes as big as plates. Another tooth had fallen by the wayside. He was excited about the tooth fairy and asked Pawpaw if the tooth fairy would come if Pawpaw would put his dentures under his own pillow. Pawpaw said, "No Micah, the tooth fairy would take money from my billfold instead of give me money if I did that". This morning Micah looked under his pillow and there was $6.00 from the tooth fairy instead of $7.00 he had from his first lost tooth. Pawpaw told Micah the price goes down as you lose more teeth - - a tooth fairy rule!

OUR LITTLE LEPRECHAUNS

2006-03-18T08:17:00.000-08:00

Today we just had to do something special it being Saint Patrick’s Day, end of spring break and my aunt Opha’s birthday too. A special day for sure. Soooo, Micah Mookers (my pet name for him) and I made Pawpaw some pancakes for supper. Pawpaw mentioned earlier he wished we had some pancake mix so he could eat pancakes for supper. He thought about going to the store but really didn’t want to, but darn how he wanted those pancakes! So Micah and I dug out the old cookbook, flipped through all the pancake recipes (all called for buttermilk or something we were out of) and alas, we found a recipe for Swedish Pancakes. We looked in the pantry and there was a partial bottle of Aunt Jemima’s syrup so we were cooking with gas! Oh, the luck of the Irish was with us thus far.

Micah adapted fast. He stirred up the pancakes, flipped them at just the right time and poured more batter in the skillet when he finished the first batch. He couldn’t wait to see Pawpaw’s reaction. Pawpaw was delighted. He was scooping up those hot morsels as fast as they came out of the pan. Uh oh, here comes Logan whining, “I wanted to cook for Pawpaw too”. I knew that would spell trouble since the two of them can’t even watch cartoons together without a fight breaking out, so I told Logan he could cook Brownies later. Oh, the luck of the Irish continues - - he agreed and went on his Merry Way! But not for long…

Would he forget? No! Not on your life? He has a memory like a steal trap. Okay, so Logan stirred up chocolate brownies while sitting in the floor in the middle of the heart shaped, now covered with chocolate rug. What a happy little boy! His mommy helped him put the ingredients together and left him to stir up his magic. I poured the mix in the pan for him and into the oven they went. When they were cool, he came to check on them. I thought he would dive in, but he doesn’t like chocolate, but he remembered this was for Pawpaw and he couldn’t wait to serve him. I cut a square which fell into many crumbles (tasty though) and put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on it. Here he went, a beautiful blue eyed little 3 year old taking his Pawpaw his first endeavor at baking. Pawpaw loved it and the Luck of the Irish was still intact. Pawpaw’s blood sugar didn’t go up toooooo much.

What precious Good Luck Charms Memaw and Pawpaw have in their home. Thanks St. Paddy. It was a good old Irish day!

Kisses

2006-02-25T05:43:00.000-08:00

Micah came home from school on Wednesday and asked Pawpaw what age he would have to be when he could kiss girls, 16 or 17? Where this particular age comes from in a child's mind I don't know, but Pawpaw answered, "I liked kissing the girls when I was about 14 years of age". Micah thinks about this for an inth of a second and says, "Pawpaw I sort of like it now"! Oh no, only Butterfly kisses for now Micah, please! .

The Tooth Fairy Cometh

2006-02-25T05:41:00.000-08:00

Micah’s Tooth Fairy

Micah came running up to Pawpaw and Logan when they went to the cafeteria to pick him up from school. His little face glowed with excitement. He was carrying a plastic bag with something in it. “Pawpaw, pawpaw, look!” “My tooth fell out today and the teacher put it in this bag!” He was grinning from ear to ear and one space missing on the bottom where his tooth had once filled the gap. What a picture!

All evening he waited until Memaw arrived home from work and then it started again. “Memaw, memaw, look!” “My tooth came out at school when I was eating my peanut butter sandwich!” We gave the proper, “Oh, how great - - now you can put it under your pillow for the Tooth Fairy!” “Did it hurt?” “Did your mouth bleed?” Little Logan was standing around looking like he was wondering “What’s all the fuss about?”

…bedtime came! Micah put the tooth under his pillow in anticipation of the tooth fairy. We turned out the lights and went to bed. Click! The light came on in my bedroom. Micah appears over my face. “Memaw, the boy at school who just lost his tooth” Memaw, “Uh huh” “Well, he said his tooth came out and he put it under his pillow for the tooth fairy, but he didn’t say anything about a bag!” Memaw, “Huh?” Micah: “Well, you see, Pawpaw won’t let me take it out of the bag the teacher put my tooth in because he says the tooth fairy won’t be able to find it and every time I move my pillow the bag crunches and crinkles and keeps me awake.” Memaw, “Go back to bed Micah and don’t move your pillow, Pawpaw is right.”

…morning came. Memaw was up first and worried about whether the tooth fairy came, so she slipped 2 dollars under Micah’s pillow, but can’t find the bag, figures it must have slipped out, but she would tell Micah she wrote a special note to the tooth fairy to leave it because Memaw wants it for his baby book – you know first tooth and all! About an hour later Pawpaw wakes Micah and asks him if the tooth fairy came. Micah wipes sleep from his eyes, and grabs his pillow up and there it is - - a 5 dollar bill and 2 ones. The tooth fairy had arrived twice!

Micah was pulling on his other loose tooth trying to get it out when I left for work. He said, “If I can get this one out I’ll have $14.00. I said, “Yeah, keep this up and you can buy a pair of jeans soon.” What a look! Logan was working on his teeth as well because he wanted the magical experience of the tooth fairy visit too!

Thank you God for these wonderful moments with Micah and Logan even though I’m all tired out at the end of the day it’s stories like these that keep fuel for the home fires burning and the one foot in front of the other walking.

The Christmas Tree 2005

2006-01-28T18:38:00.000-08:00

Right after Thanksgiving we wanted to get the Christmas Tree up to get an earlier start than last year and the year before when we just beat Santa by a couple of nights. This year I still needed to go to the shed and pull my tree down from the top shelf, but kept remembering the story of the snake that crawled into a hole in the floor when Chick opened the shed door last summer to put the rake up. From the story he tells I don’t know who was more frightened, the snake or Chick. I somehow imagined by now he must have grow fangs and be 20 foot long. I had not dared to open that door, but now I was going to have to or go buy a new tree.

I came in from work right after the Thanksgiving holidays and there was the little old tree I had stored years ago sitting in the middle of the floor with lights and ornaments all over it. Logan, Micah and Holly had pulled the wrong tree out of the shed, and worst of all they already had it decorated. I stopped and put my purse down and surveyed the scene. The boys were smiling and they were all excited about the wonderful decorating job they were doing. They were just about to finish up and I ruined it by saying, “That is not the tree I wanted up this year, I was looking forward to putting up my prelit tree up - - the pretty one I bought from K-Mart the year before they went out of business.” They all turned and looked at me really disappointed that I wasn’t sharing in this wonderful experience they were having. To me the tree looked drab next to the one I had been putting up for the last 3 or 4 years. They wanted to keep this masterpiece they had put in place, and they weren’t budging. “Oh well, I thought, I’ll let them have their fun and get the other tree out and exchange all the decorations and they’ll never know the difference.”

The following day I went out and pulled the tree from the shed. No snake in sight -- great! Snakes must hybernate in the winter. Two of the pieces of the tree were stored in a plastic storage container, but the bottom piece wouldn’t fit in with the other two when I packed it up last January so I had wrapped the bottom of the tree in a plastic bag. I brought the pieces into the house and the house suddenly smelled like human urine. The mice had gotten into the plastic bag and made themselves a home and used it for a bathroom as well. We were all gagging and knew it couldn’t stay in the house. I threw the whole thing out in the yard and decided this tree was ruined. I told Holly we would throw it in the dump after Christmas.

The next week, we had an ice and rain storm. The tree I had thrown in the yard was soaked and coated with ice. I really figured it was ready for the dump after that because he lights had to be ruined. For sure, now it would go in the dump. I came home from work one day and the tree was gone out of the yard. Mom had brought Holly out to the house for some clothes and she spotted the tree. She didn’t have one, so she took that one home when she learned I was throwing it away. The next time I went over to her house she had this beautiful tree sitting in her living room. The tree was cozy and had blinking lights that played Christmas Carols. She had plugged up some lights with the other lights that played Christmas music, decorated it with some cotton on the boughs and it looked like real snow. She added some old dangly earrings my sister had left there years ago, and toys different grandchildren had brought and left behind. The ice and rain storm had performed a miracle. It had washed and purified the branches and now it looked like a new tree. I can imagine this is how our glorified bodies in heaven will be when we leave this earth. The broken down, old tired, and “ready for the dump” bodies will be like new - - beautiful and glowing from the light of Jesus and the home He went to prepare for us so many years ago. We will shine!

To sum it all up the end of this story is a good one. Our tree at home was decorated by our little boys who had such a wonderful time with their mommy decorating the tree and adding to it every day. They made a green and red chain from construction paper with their mommy, and every evening they would look at their masterpiece and nearly glow. We praised them for the wonderful job they did with this grand tree Santa would see when he visited The Templin home on Christmas Eve.

And, mom was happy with her tree and said it would last her the rest of her life, so goodbye tree you have a new home and Merry Christmas mom. I hope you get to put it up and enjoy it for many Christmases to come. I was joyful we made so many people happy this Christmas. I turned my eyes towards heaven and thanked God for giving us the ice and rain for that very reason because the weather warmed up after that and we never had another cold day.

Plastic Fish Fry

2006-01-14T18:24:00.000-08:00

Friday evening I came in from working all day and found the boys at play. They were fishing all day in the house, off the steps, on the bed, and they were excited because they had caught the same plastic fish over and over all day. Pawpaw took Logan and Micah to Wally world earlier in the day and purchased the plastic rods and reels complete with magnetic fish for the 3rd time since the boys were slung into this topsy turvy world. This time was no different from all the other times. They loved these little rod and reels as though they had never played with them before. I ate plastic seahorses, octipi, green crappie and red catfish all evening until bedtime. Everytime a fish was caught on the magnetic hook we had to filet, fry and eat the catch. Must not waste a bite!

Today the boys went up in the fort and cast their hooks into the sea and caught imaginary whales, and other big old fish. They made a fire with the cut wood from the pecan trees and then they lost interest... When I went outside to get them to come in from a hard day at the fishing hole they had bombarded the porch with dirt clods and charcoal pieces from the chiminea. Then they learned to sweep! Another adventure in the lives of Logan and Micah. Micah caught eleven fishes and Logan caught a pail full.

Templin Christmas Dinner 2005

2005-12-23T05:32:00.001-08:00

The Templin Christmas Dinner - - 2005

A tradition was started a long, long time ago, in which the George and Ruby Templin family would meet for a gathering and dinner the week before Christmas every year. This started long before I came into the family and over the years we’ve never missed a Sunday having this family gathering. Now along the way some folks have quit coming and some have never missed the Christmas gathering. We should have an official name for this gathering - - something light and wonderful. So now the contest is on!

When I first started dating John Templin AKA Chick Templin, he was a young man with hair, and had just gotten out of the Army Reserves 6 months duty, so he was cute, had a California accent, slim, no gut, seemed to be a light hearted human being and had a large family. I loved large families and always wanted one as I’ve said many times before. I was also dating a boy by the name of Wilford Dungan who was in the Army and had a tour in Germany. I was a mere 15 years of age, had just arrived in Texas from Indiana, and was very lonely for my old friends and now my best friend Wilford had gone away for a year or two (can’t remember now), but he told me I could date while he was gone and I did. - - John Templin. Good-bye Wilford!

Soon John Templin and I were engaged. ENGAGED at the ripe old age of 16 or 17 (memory fails me) and I started attending the Templin Christmas dinner at the big old two story house on the corner of the main street and perhaps Parvin street. The Parvins lived next door and were lovely neighbors that were lifetime friends. Prosper was a quaint little 2 horse town, and the old house was big, drafty and and had a personality of it’s own. I remember Bessie Woods, Juanita Jenkins, Mrs. Templin, Jeri Biggs, and Myrtle sitting at the table talking while Doad and her husband, J.D. Putman were busy putting the Christmas finishing on the dinner. They loved to cook and clean up afterwards.

Old Grandma Pointer as we all fondly called her was there some years and some years she was in California. The house was alive with little children running to and fro, some shyly sitting in their parents laps. Jeri and Billy Bob Biggs had 4 little girls, Kim, Robin, Penny and Tracy, Pat O’Dell and Frank, had 3 little children, Joy, Roxie and Tim, and later one more, Jana. Ruth and Elmer had one little boy, Keith and later a little girl named Susan, Jake and Joyce had a little girl named Cynthia and much later a boy named Jim Jake. Hub was an old confirmed bachelor at that time and later married. Billy Jack and Cherry Jean had 2 children, Lanie and Bubba and later Gina. All I can remember is there were too many people and not enough air space, but still the activity was ginning. Joe, Nell and their children, Donna Kay, Paula , Michael Joe and later Lori Jan were there, R.J., Uncle Bob, Pud Jenkins, D.A. Bailey and wife Dorothy, children: Tommy, Johnny, Kenneth, Janelle and Kathy came. Cousins, friends, Peggy Templin, brother K and wife Jo Ann, and children, Kirk, Cheryl and later Choice came along. I can’t keep up with the people and when they came into this world and went out, but my point is, there has always been a Templin Christmas Dinner the Sunday before Christmas each and every year since my time with the Templins began.

This year was no different, we met again, and the ghosts of Christmases past haunted me when I begin to think of all the years we have gifted Mrs. Templin by continuing this tradition. The people are less attentive. I counted from memory how many were there and I counted at least 51, which is around ½ of the people who used to attend. Once I got home I reflected as I always do on the event.

And this memory stands out: There was a little girl in a blue knit shirt and jeans who was very interested in the food and activities. She was getting her plate and helping herself to some vittles. She was there when I arrived and still there when I was gathering my dishes to go home. Cynthia Templin-Hays and I were talking about who was there, and this and that and how we wished we could wear name badges every year so we would know who belonged to whom. She said, “For instance, do you know who that child belongs to?” I looked and I thought and thought and I went back into my memory and nowhere could I pull up the face, but then I said, “Cheryl and Jack Fraze’s little girl!” Cynthia said, “No, guess again” - - but I couldn’t figure it out. She said, “I asked her who she is and she said she lives across the street”. I wonder why her parents didn’t know where she was or worry about it, but it put me to thinking, Perhaps we were entertaining an Angel Unaware. So this year we had a treat - - an Angel at the Annual Christmas Celebration.

Hebrews 13:1-2
• "Let brotherly love continue.
• Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares".
Thank you Pat for continuing this tradition of love! Once home, I thought of all those who were not with us this Christmas and I silently gave them homage and they knew they were missed. We missed those who are still on this earth but couldn’t be there, we hope to see you next year! Too many are missing and too soon. Merry Christmas Templin family!

A True Christmas Story

2005-12-14T09:10:00.000-08:00

I must tell you this Christmas story that is true. I should change the names to protect the innocent and not so innocent.

Christmas 1981

Crumps Garden always has a poinsettia show (Chambersville) every year, and this particular year I asked myself, "What the heck is a poinsettia show?" So I took Angie and Hollye with me on a Saturday afternoon. First I stopped by 7-11 (Oh thank Heaven for 7-11) and bought us something cold to drink. It was a nice day, warm, and sunshiney (all was well in our world then). We were in Chick's pick 'em up truck, and I had on my jeans (still small back then) and a sweater. I noticed this man really staring and smiling at me while I was in the store. I thought, "Ummmm, I must look good today".

Well, we go trucking out to Chambersville and find Crumps (my first time to visit them since they moved to the country) so I had to stop at the main office and ask where we were supposed to view the Poinsettias'. The lady directed me to the top of the hill where she said there were greenhouses after greenhouses packed with all sorts of Poinsettias'. The excitement was mounting!

As I walked out of the office I noticed another gentleman was looking at me with this big old wide flirtatious grin on his kisser. I got back in the truck and told the girls, "I must look extra good today, I'm getting lots of attention" (Oh vain lady you must quit thinking)

Wellllllll, we park the truck, and there are a group of high school age boys to take us on the tour. We go to the 1st greenhouse at the top of the hill and in we go, the tour guide, me, Hollye and Angie all in a row because it was too narrow to walk side by side. I hear this hysterical laughter behind me. Poinsettias are just not that darn funny I think to myself. I turn and the girls are doubled over pointing at my backside. I said, "Well, what"? I look down where the girls are pointing, the little guide looks down where the girls are pointing, and there is a long leg with a foot hanging out from under one of my pant legs. Panty hose! I now remember I skinned out of my jeans and panty hose the night before and threw them on the dresser, the next morning I put the jeans back on and apparently the panty hose stayed snug in the jeans, a whole dang leg is following behind me - - for how long! UMMMMMM, now I know why the men were smiling...

I held my cool, and bent over and tugged on the panty hose. They won't budge. They are across the crotch of my tight fitting jeans. I pull again, and nothing. Finally with a mighty yank the panty hose come out springing the other leg straight up in the air like a balloon about to sail into the horizon, but I have the other end held tight. By then the girls are hysterical and the little tour guide has the reddest Christmas face you've ever seen. I roll those hose up into a tight ball (never missed a beat) and proclaimed, "I wondered where those panty hose were?" then I tuck them into my purse and turn around and move forward. We continue on through the tour until about midpoint the little guide leaves us to continue on our own.

As we are coming out of the last greenhouse, I see the tour guide standing on the hill with his little friends pointing our way and all of them doubled over in laughter.

Merry Christmas to all! And by the way, if you've seen one poinsettia you've seen them all!!!!!!!

Sandy and Chick