7-24-09...MAMA'S BREAD
Mama made the best bread in the world. Daughter speaking? I'll admit that but just ask anyone who knew her. Nothing better!! Often when we were having a rough time of it Mama would say how she wished there was something she could do to help out. Daddy didn't think much of that idea either. “Kids need you Lucille”, was his answer to her.
One day a (I'll just say she was persnikity) person was at our house and Mama was making bread. I don't know why she was there but I think she purposely hung around during the rising and cooking process hoping she would get a taste. Of course when Mama took the loaves of bread out of the oven she offered the 'lady'? A slice of the bread slathered in home made butter. The eager smart elec grabbed it and proceeded to put a dollop of Mamas home made strawberry jam on it without it being offered. No thank you, no it was good, no nothing except to eagerly scoff it down her proper hatch. Rude, Rude Rude!!!
Now the 'lady'? had money it was plain to see. She had the nerve to ask my Mama for a loaf of that bread to take with her. I was indignant telling her we would eat it ourselves but Mama gave me The Look and made me apologize to the old heiffer. Then my sweet kind Mama standing there in her faded and patched dress, with red raw hands, proceeded to wrap a loaf of that bread in a clean flour sack dish rag and handed it to that ol' bat with a sweet smile on her face. She took it and was gone. I was madder'n'a old wet setting hen but Mama told me to let it go and don't worry about it because if that lady enjoyed it that much then she should have it because she probably didn't know how to make it for herself. “And besides”, she added “We have more”.
As the story spread friends and neighbors started asking Mama to make them a loaf of bread and they all paid her for it even though she told them if they would just bring her flour and yeast she would make it. No, they paid her for it. That kept up until Daddy was again on his feet. But remember the ol' bag who first got a loaf of bread without paying? You'd think she had a concious attack and came back to pay for bread wouldn't you? But Nope she came back all right and got bread often but the old battleaxe never paid a cent for it. Nope Not a cent!!!
Those friends and neighbors who did buy the bread were just trying to help us in their own way. Made Mama feel good and of course they liked Mamas bread. Yep! That is the way I was taught over the years. My indignation over that incidence is still fresh in my mind though now that I'm thinking about it. I think Mama hoped that the woman would learn from it and that is my hope too. She is gone now. I hope she is in Heaven with my Mama. Mama can teach her a lot. YEP!!!!!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
SPECIAL TIMES & SPECIAL MEMORIES
7-23-09...Special Times & Special Memories
When we were kids Daddy worked in the Coal mines in Oklahoma. Sometimes we would go with him and live there so we could be with him. Daddy usually stayed in a hotel in a room with three other men from Monday to Friday night. On Friday night after work they all came home only to have to leave again on Sunday evening and go back to Oklahoma for a week of work in the coal mines. Usually we went in summer when I was out of school but three different times I remember going during a school term. I didn't like the new school but I did like being with my Daddy.
The coal mine was Union operated and often came out on strike. At those times Daddy had no job so we came back to Arkansas. I don't remember what Daddy did to feed us then but I do know he did. If it was summer he went to the fields and worked to harvest whatever crop was in season. Berries, corn, spinach, peas, cotton, and others. As soon as my Brother and I could make a few cents we went too.
In Oklahoma we lived in an apartment. I walked 6 blocks to school morning and night with a High School girl who also lived in the apartments. Lots of other families were there from home for the same reason we were. I remember the Apartment had no fridge and furnishings were sparce. I don't remember taking anything with us except clothing and dishes for the kitchen. There was one bathroom for I think it was four apartments on the third floor where we lived.
My Uncle Claude lived in the Oklahoma town as did all his kids. We visited our Family while there a lot. That is where I got drawn in to music. We would go to Uncle Claude's house and they played music. Mama played harmonica (which we called a french harp) and boy howdy she could make that thing talk. Uncle Claude played the fiddle, Betty played a mean piano, and Leo's wife played the Guitar. Now let me tell you that little house rocked with country and gospel music and singing. Whooppee! The year I was seven I would join in the singing and from then on I was hooked. Some of those songs I still sing.
My Brother Norman was only two, three, and four at the time and he locked us in every place we went in, even locked himself in the bathroom once and the old janitor had to walk up three flights of stairs and take the Bathroom door down. Then again Norman locked Me, Mama , and himself in the apartment. I suspect that the locks were not very good in the first place.
On Friday nights when Daddy got home from work we walked down to the soda fountain in the Drug Store. Mama and Daddy got fountain cokes and I got a sundae or some other kind of treat. Norman got bites out of my ice cream and sips of the cokes. I'll always remember the special smell of that drug store. A smell I can't really describe except to say it was many smells blended together. I have never again smelled the same smell. I'll know it when I do. I do remember the sweet smiles on my Parents faces as they watched us enjoy our treats which I know now they really couldn't afford. A treat was really a treat to us because we didn't get 'stuff' any time we wanted it. If we had got everything we wanted like that we would have had no appreciation for it and I wouldn't be sitting here with tears in my eyes right now. I still treasure and appreciate all those special times and special treats after 60 years. How many kids today will have those memories?
When we were kids Daddy worked in the Coal mines in Oklahoma. Sometimes we would go with him and live there so we could be with him. Daddy usually stayed in a hotel in a room with three other men from Monday to Friday night. On Friday night after work they all came home only to have to leave again on Sunday evening and go back to Oklahoma for a week of work in the coal mines. Usually we went in summer when I was out of school but three different times I remember going during a school term. I didn't like the new school but I did like being with my Daddy.
The coal mine was Union operated and often came out on strike. At those times Daddy had no job so we came back to Arkansas. I don't remember what Daddy did to feed us then but I do know he did. If it was summer he went to the fields and worked to harvest whatever crop was in season. Berries, corn, spinach, peas, cotton, and others. As soon as my Brother and I could make a few cents we went too.
In Oklahoma we lived in an apartment. I walked 6 blocks to school morning and night with a High School girl who also lived in the apartments. Lots of other families were there from home for the same reason we were. I remember the Apartment had no fridge and furnishings were sparce. I don't remember taking anything with us except clothing and dishes for the kitchen. There was one bathroom for I think it was four apartments on the third floor where we lived.
My Uncle Claude lived in the Oklahoma town as did all his kids. We visited our Family while there a lot. That is where I got drawn in to music. We would go to Uncle Claude's house and they played music. Mama played harmonica (which we called a french harp) and boy howdy she could make that thing talk. Uncle Claude played the fiddle, Betty played a mean piano, and Leo's wife played the Guitar. Now let me tell you that little house rocked with country and gospel music and singing. Whooppee! The year I was seven I would join in the singing and from then on I was hooked. Some of those songs I still sing.
My Brother Norman was only two, three, and four at the time and he locked us in every place we went in, even locked himself in the bathroom once and the old janitor had to walk up three flights of stairs and take the Bathroom door down. Then again Norman locked Me, Mama , and himself in the apartment. I suspect that the locks were not very good in the first place.
On Friday nights when Daddy got home from work we walked down to the soda fountain in the Drug Store. Mama and Daddy got fountain cokes and I got a sundae or some other kind of treat. Norman got bites out of my ice cream and sips of the cokes. I'll always remember the special smell of that drug store. A smell I can't really describe except to say it was many smells blended together. I have never again smelled the same smell. I'll know it when I do. I do remember the sweet smiles on my Parents faces as they watched us enjoy our treats which I know now they really couldn't afford. A treat was really a treat to us because we didn't get 'stuff' any time we wanted it. If we had got everything we wanted like that we would have had no appreciation for it and I wouldn't be sitting here with tears in my eyes right now. I still treasure and appreciate all those special times and special treats after 60 years. How many kids today will have those memories?
NEIGHBORS
7-21-09...GOOD NEIGHBORS
Used to be a little community like I grew up in neighbors were just that, Neighbors. Now you are called a nosy old busybody if you try to be neighborly. Trust and mutual understanding all seemed to have blown out into the wind somewhere.
When I was a child everyone helped everyone and everyone knew when someone needed help. It wasn't because someone ran around with a sign on their backs proclaiming “I'm Hungry. Feed Me” or some such thing either. It was because people genuinely cared about their neighbor.
There wasn't much money anywhere but there were friends and neighbors who were there to help.
Food was a big thing. We grew and raised and processed, and killed, and gathered our food. And we shared. If someone was sick there was food brought and prepared for them. Your washing, your cleaning, your chores, and you, were tended to by neighbors. Whatever help you needed you got. In turn you did the same for them.
If someone had a big crop the work and the bounty was shared without question. If I had two pairs of shoes and yours got too small you got a pair of mine.
There was trust then too. I know there were bad people then too but somehow I guess I didn't know that then for some reason. Now seems like no one trusts anyone.
We kept our elders at home and cared for them instead of ripping them off like people are doing now.
No one was laying in wait to steal from you but to give you more.
I guess that was an advantage of small community living. I don't know because I didn't live in town but even small communities are not the same anymore either. Now you may come home and find you have been robbed or vandalized.
Three summers ago I had two peach trees just loaded with ripe beautiful peaches. I watched them and waited for the right time to harvest and get them all worked up for eating all winter. I had told several people they would be welcome to some because there were so many. I was willing to share them but not to have them done the way they were.
One morning early I was going to pick peaches. I knew there would most likely be at least two bushels. No one had took me up on coming to pick and share so I was planning to take some and give them away to several people.
I had two big grocery bags to pick in. The trees are down in the front and not close to the house. I walked down there and just stopped with my mouth open when I saw my peaches. Did I say Peaches? Well that was the wrong choice of words because there was nary a peach to be seen. Someone had come in the night and stripped every peach in sight. Not even a peach on the ground was seen. I mean those suckers had cleaned me out lock stock and barrel. YEP! Not even the smell of a peach was left. That was bad enough but when I looked over at the plum tree it was desecrated something awful. Someone had knocked the plums down on the ground and must have gotten mad because they were not ripe and started stomping on them. A few limbs were broken off the tree as well.
Now I would have give some peaches to anyone who asked be it friend or stranger. They could have had some peaches just for the asking. I had to many and didn't need all of them, I wanted to share, even tried to share, but this was too much for my simple mind to comprehend. I wasn't so much mad but more hurt. I don't know who did it but I hope they really used and enjoyed the peaches and didn't just do it for a lark. I will not believe it was someone I know.
It is getting harder every day to trust someone enough to call them a neighbor. Neighbor used to mean something. They were someone to count on, someone who was there for you, they were friends. I'm finding it very hard to believe that there is no one left who is a real Neighbor. Very hard indeed.
Used to be a little community like I grew up in neighbors were just that, Neighbors. Now you are called a nosy old busybody if you try to be neighborly. Trust and mutual understanding all seemed to have blown out into the wind somewhere.
When I was a child everyone helped everyone and everyone knew when someone needed help. It wasn't because someone ran around with a sign on their backs proclaiming “I'm Hungry. Feed Me” or some such thing either. It was because people genuinely cared about their neighbor.
There wasn't much money anywhere but there were friends and neighbors who were there to help.
Food was a big thing. We grew and raised and processed, and killed, and gathered our food. And we shared. If someone was sick there was food brought and prepared for them. Your washing, your cleaning, your chores, and you, were tended to by neighbors. Whatever help you needed you got. In turn you did the same for them.
If someone had a big crop the work and the bounty was shared without question. If I had two pairs of shoes and yours got too small you got a pair of mine.
There was trust then too. I know there were bad people then too but somehow I guess I didn't know that then for some reason. Now seems like no one trusts anyone.
We kept our elders at home and cared for them instead of ripping them off like people are doing now.
No one was laying in wait to steal from you but to give you more.
I guess that was an advantage of small community living. I don't know because I didn't live in town but even small communities are not the same anymore either. Now you may come home and find you have been robbed or vandalized.
Three summers ago I had two peach trees just loaded with ripe beautiful peaches. I watched them and waited for the right time to harvest and get them all worked up for eating all winter. I had told several people they would be welcome to some because there were so many. I was willing to share them but not to have them done the way they were.
One morning early I was going to pick peaches. I knew there would most likely be at least two bushels. No one had took me up on coming to pick and share so I was planning to take some and give them away to several people.
I had two big grocery bags to pick in. The trees are down in the front and not close to the house. I walked down there and just stopped with my mouth open when I saw my peaches. Did I say Peaches? Well that was the wrong choice of words because there was nary a peach to be seen. Someone had come in the night and stripped every peach in sight. Not even a peach on the ground was seen. I mean those suckers had cleaned me out lock stock and barrel. YEP! Not even the smell of a peach was left. That was bad enough but when I looked over at the plum tree it was desecrated something awful. Someone had knocked the plums down on the ground and must have gotten mad because they were not ripe and started stomping on them. A few limbs were broken off the tree as well.
Now I would have give some peaches to anyone who asked be it friend or stranger. They could have had some peaches just for the asking. I had to many and didn't need all of them, I wanted to share, even tried to share, but this was too much for my simple mind to comprehend. I wasn't so much mad but more hurt. I don't know who did it but I hope they really used and enjoyed the peaches and didn't just do it for a lark. I will not believe it was someone I know.
It is getting harder every day to trust someone enough to call them a neighbor. Neighbor used to mean something. They were someone to count on, someone who was there for you, they were friends. I'm finding it very hard to believe that there is no one left who is a real Neighbor. Very hard indeed.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
MY HOME TOWN WAY BACK THERE
7-14-09...My home town way back when!!!
DENNING, ARKANSAS
BOOM TOWN IN FRANKLIN COUNTY
In 1890 Western Coal Co. of St. Louis, Missouri began opening coal mines about one mile south of Altus. A new town was soon built up around the mining operations. There were seventy-seven houses, a general store, churches, Post Office, schoolhouse and a railroad depot.
There was also a rock vault constructed to serve as a bank in which they kept the gold coins. Gold was used to pay off miners on their payday.
The jailhouse is still in evidence as it was built of native stone, and like the vault, was built with security in mind. Thus surrounding the coal mines a boomtown was born. The man who first came to this location and negotiated the leases was Benjamin Denning. The town of four thousand plus population was given the name of its founder, DENNING.
Jake Arbaugh turned the first spade full of dirt, which opened up one of the first industries in Franklin County. One mine after another was opened until there were six coal mines under the ownership of the Western Coal Company. In those days (as told to me by the now deceased John Zachery) there were no unions which could specify wages or working conditions. In 1899 according to Mr. Zachery, conditions became so unbearable that a union was organized. Mr. Zachery was among the first members.
In 1899 a strike was called for higher wages, shorter hours and better working conditions. Until this time the workday was ten hours and the pay was $1.25 to $2.00 per day. Payday was once each month. The miners did not receive Union recognition until 1903. During this time the mines were operated without much success by non-union labor. At last, in 1903 the settlement was achieved, and the miners went back to work on an eight-hour day, with a daily wage increase of fifty-nine cents per day. Other benefits consisted of better working conditions, new safety measures, and payday twice monthly.
As the town took its name from the man who was instrumental in opening the coalfields, Denning had other followers as all boomtowns. There were dance halls, saloons and gambling joints. There was also another side to the picture, because as Denning grew four churches were built and faithfully attended. A bank was built and Dr. Herrod, a well known and trusted citizen became its president. Dr. Herrod was a horse and buggy doctor who brought many who are still around into this world. (printed in 1978)
The mines seemed to have reached a peak by 1915 when the first mine, number one was worked out. The other five continued operating through World War 1 to 1917. Following this the mines were worked out, one by one. At this time Western Coal Company sold its interest in the operation of the coal field. Old number six was operated by various owners until 1943 during World War II. Number two was the last of the original mines to "pull Steel". This occurred in 1947.
With the closing of the mines money became scarce and almost as fast as the town grew, it also began to fade and become a ghost town. The old tipples were removed, but the first, number one remained and open hole. This later played a part in a tragedy which was never solved, that is the discovery of the body of a woman was found floating in the water of the mine.
The only remaining items to remind one of the spacious Western Coal Company were the vault where the gold for payday was stored, and the Jail, better known as the "calaboose."
John Zachery, one of the few miners who out lived the mining industry contributed much of the above information to J.J. Owens of Franklin County and later to Ena Harrington.
Denning is still a municipality consisting of lots and blocks, but the houses are few. There are a few of the noble old two story houses, and some of a more modest type, whose owners refuse to call it quits.
Denning is well known as the town run entirely by women. It is distinguished by being one of only three towns in the United States to have an all woman government.
My Mother Lucille was a member of that council for many years. In picture below she is on the bottom right. Mama wrote names on all her pictures. I used to tell her she was ruining them but now I am so happy that she did that.
DENNING, ARKANSAS
BOOM TOWN IN FRANKLIN COUNTY
In 1890 Western Coal Co. of St. Louis, Missouri began opening coal mines about one mile south of Altus. A new town was soon built up around the mining operations. There were seventy-seven houses, a general store, churches, Post Office, schoolhouse and a railroad depot.
There was also a rock vault constructed to serve as a bank in which they kept the gold coins. Gold was used to pay off miners on their payday.
The jailhouse is still in evidence as it was built of native stone, and like the vault, was built with security in mind. Thus surrounding the coal mines a boomtown was born. The man who first came to this location and negotiated the leases was Benjamin Denning. The town of four thousand plus population was given the name of its founder, DENNING.
Jake Arbaugh turned the first spade full of dirt, which opened up one of the first industries in Franklin County. One mine after another was opened until there were six coal mines under the ownership of the Western Coal Company. In those days (as told to me by the now deceased John Zachery) there were no unions which could specify wages or working conditions. In 1899 according to Mr. Zachery, conditions became so unbearable that a union was organized. Mr. Zachery was among the first members.
In 1899 a strike was called for higher wages, shorter hours and better working conditions. Until this time the workday was ten hours and the pay was $1.25 to $2.00 per day. Payday was once each month. The miners did not receive Union recognition until 1903. During this time the mines were operated without much success by non-union labor. At last, in 1903 the settlement was achieved, and the miners went back to work on an eight-hour day, with a daily wage increase of fifty-nine cents per day. Other benefits consisted of better working conditions, new safety measures, and payday twice monthly.
As the town took its name from the man who was instrumental in opening the coalfields, Denning had other followers as all boomtowns. There were dance halls, saloons and gambling joints. There was also another side to the picture, because as Denning grew four churches were built and faithfully attended. A bank was built and Dr. Herrod, a well known and trusted citizen became its president. Dr. Herrod was a horse and buggy doctor who brought many who are still around into this world. (printed in 1978)
The mines seemed to have reached a peak by 1915 when the first mine, number one was worked out. The other five continued operating through World War 1 to 1917. Following this the mines were worked out, one by one. At this time Western Coal Company sold its interest in the operation of the coal field. Old number six was operated by various owners until 1943 during World War II. Number two was the last of the original mines to "pull Steel". This occurred in 1947.
With the closing of the mines money became scarce and almost as fast as the town grew, it also began to fade and become a ghost town. The old tipples were removed, but the first, number one remained and open hole. This later played a part in a tragedy which was never solved, that is the discovery of the body of a woman was found floating in the water of the mine.
The only remaining items to remind one of the spacious Western Coal Company were the vault where the gold for payday was stored, and the Jail, better known as the "calaboose."
John Zachery, one of the few miners who out lived the mining industry contributed much of the above information to J.J. Owens of Franklin County and later to Ena Harrington.
Denning is still a municipality consisting of lots and blocks, but the houses are few. There are a few of the noble old two story houses, and some of a more modest type, whose owners refuse to call it quits.
Denning is well known as the town run entirely by women. It is distinguished by being one of only three towns in the United States to have an all woman government.
My Mother Lucille was a member of that council for many years. In picture below she is on the bottom right. Mama wrote names on all her pictures. I used to tell her she was ruining them but now I am so happy that she did that.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
AND THERE WERE TWO
7-8-09...And There Were Two
When I get up in the night to go to the bathroom I'm usually half asleep. In fact I'm convinced that I go with my eyes closed kinda like semi sleep walking. I can prove that by the many times I have had knots on my head from running in to the Bathroom door. YEP!
I got up a few days ago and stumbled in to the bathroom and somehow got on the pot right.. The trash can is sitting right by the comode and has a lid on it. I had re potted some of my house plants that day which was quiet an experience.
Well this night as I sat there in my semi coma state I kept hearing something. Thump, thump, thump. Well I thought I must be hearing something so I just finished my business. After the paper work was done I turned to lift the lid on the trash can and heard the Thump Thump again. Sounded like it was behind the trash can so I looked. Nothing there. I started to raise the lid again and this time heard thump and saw that the lid on the trash can was moving. Now heck fire this was getting spooky. I know I didn't just imagine the lid was moving every time I heard the thump. Anyway being still half asleep I just went ahead and lifted the lid to dispose of my paper. There is a night light in the bathroom so I hadn't turned on the ceiling light. As I peered in to the trash can something hit right on top of my head. Now I was fully awake and startled. I could feel something moving on my head and I didn't like it one bit. I jumped up from the pot and was pulling up my drawers when something slid right on down my face. It felt cold and I reached up to swipe it out of my face and it landed on my bare feet. I did the watusi over to the light switch and turned it on. There right between my feet was a slimy old frog looking up at me with those bug eyes. Well let me tell you I came unglued. I put the seat down on the pot and got up there fast. There I stood screechin' and screamin' to the top of my lungs.
Now Don can't hear hisself fart when he goes to sleep at night so he just slept on. Couldn't have woke him with a bomb. I was Trapped as sure as shootin'. Wasn't about to get down and go out of that bathroom. Heck fire no. I knew Don would get up sooner or later for a trip to the bathroom so I just waited.
That durned old frog was not moving much but now and then he would jump over a little way which just terrified me. I was just sure it was gonna' jump up there with me.
After what seemed like hours I heard Don coming. Well it's about time I thought. He opened the door and there I stood on the pot. That startled him and he backed up a little then said "What r ya doin' up there"? Just shut up and get that durn frog outta here was my answer. He was aggravated but he caught it and was going to put it in the trash can. "NO" I slapped his hand and the frog peed on him. He was madder'n'a old wet hen. I told him to take it outside and he balked. I finally convinced him that it would get out of the trash again. He grumbled all the way to the door but I followed him to make sure it was put outside.
Oh My Gosh!!! It took me forever to go back to sleep. I could still feel that thing in my hair for a long time. In case you are wondering how the frog got in my trash in the first place. Believe it or not I put it there. Yep! Sure nuff did! You can read about how that came to be in my blog called A SACK OF DIRT just in case you are curious.
When I get up in the night to go to the bathroom I'm usually half asleep. In fact I'm convinced that I go with my eyes closed kinda like semi sleep walking. I can prove that by the many times I have had knots on my head from running in to the Bathroom door. YEP!
I got up a few days ago and stumbled in to the bathroom and somehow got on the pot right.. The trash can is sitting right by the comode and has a lid on it. I had re potted some of my house plants that day which was quiet an experience.
Well this night as I sat there in my semi coma state I kept hearing something. Thump, thump, thump. Well I thought I must be hearing something so I just finished my business. After the paper work was done I turned to lift the lid on the trash can and heard the Thump Thump again. Sounded like it was behind the trash can so I looked. Nothing there. I started to raise the lid again and this time heard thump and saw that the lid on the trash can was moving. Now heck fire this was getting spooky. I know I didn't just imagine the lid was moving every time I heard the thump. Anyway being still half asleep I just went ahead and lifted the lid to dispose of my paper. There is a night light in the bathroom so I hadn't turned on the ceiling light. As I peered in to the trash can something hit right on top of my head. Now I was fully awake and startled. I could feel something moving on my head and I didn't like it one bit. I jumped up from the pot and was pulling up my drawers when something slid right on down my face. It felt cold and I reached up to swipe it out of my face and it landed on my bare feet. I did the watusi over to the light switch and turned it on. There right between my feet was a slimy old frog looking up at me with those bug eyes. Well let me tell you I came unglued. I put the seat down on the pot and got up there fast. There I stood screechin' and screamin' to the top of my lungs.
Now Don can't hear hisself fart when he goes to sleep at night so he just slept on. Couldn't have woke him with a bomb. I was Trapped as sure as shootin'. Wasn't about to get down and go out of that bathroom. Heck fire no. I knew Don would get up sooner or later for a trip to the bathroom so I just waited.
That durned old frog was not moving much but now and then he would jump over a little way which just terrified me. I was just sure it was gonna' jump up there with me.
After what seemed like hours I heard Don coming. Well it's about time I thought. He opened the door and there I stood on the pot. That startled him and he backed up a little then said "What r ya doin' up there"? Just shut up and get that durn frog outta here was my answer. He was aggravated but he caught it and was going to put it in the trash can. "NO" I slapped his hand and the frog peed on him. He was madder'n'a old wet hen. I told him to take it outside and he balked. I finally convinced him that it would get out of the trash again. He grumbled all the way to the door but I followed him to make sure it was put outside.
Oh My Gosh!!! It took me forever to go back to sleep. I could still feel that thing in my hair for a long time. In case you are wondering how the frog got in my trash in the first place. Believe it or not I put it there. Yep! Sure nuff did! You can read about how that came to be in my blog called A SACK OF DIRT just in case you are curious.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
HOME WHERE THE HEART IS
7-7-09...Home Where The Heart is
To me the house that I grew up in was a Palace. My Mama and Daddy were the King and Queen. I was the Princess, and Norman was a Prince. I never saw the cracks in the wall or the rotting boards on the back porch and steps where I played. I thought the linoleum almost floating off the floor when the wind blew hard as a magic carpet and it was magical to me. I would walk back and forth on it as it came up around me. I thought it was a special thing just for me to enjoy. I loved watching the plastic curtains on the windows blow out from the wall and seem to float around.
The house had high ceilings which made it cooler in the summer but colder in the winter. When I was very young the bedrooms had no heat so they were closed off and just the front room and kitchen had any heat. That was just a little open heater with a flame that came up out of each burner. The back was asbestos then there were stone burners in front of each flame that heated up. You still could only get heat if your were very close. I used to stand very close when Mama and Daddy were not looking. So close the backs of my legs would be red from the heat. Mama jerked me away one day when she caught me and she said she smelled my hair singing in the heat. My hair was long and kinky and if it was kinked from the heat it didn't show but Mama was convinced that it had burned. From then on I was threatened fiercely if I ever stood that close again. I don't remember ever doing so either. Mama could make a believer out of me when it was necessary and it was certainly necessary then. Later on there was one of the same kind of stoves in the back room that gave us some heat in the bedrooms.
The roof was sheet iron. Which was only a thin piece of tin that rusted and had to be painted with silver paint of some kind when my Daddy could afford to have it done. That roof was magical to me also when it rained. I loved to hear rain beating down on that roof especially at night when I was snug in bed. Such a peaceful and comforting sound. Made me feel protected inside and I would think of the people who may be out in the rain and didn't have my house and bed to snuggle in. I felt sorry for those who didn't have what I had.
The house sat high off the ground on concrete blocks. No foundation, no under pining. We would crawl under there in the summer and play in the dirt making mud pies and digging in the sofr earth. In the winter Daddy kept potatoes and onions under the back side where it was a little lower to the ground. When he dug them from his garden they were laid out on the ground under a tree where it was shaded. Something was poured over them while they 'cured out'. Then in the fall when it got cold they were put under the house. They didn't freeze or rot. My job was to crawl under there with a paper sack and bring some in the house for Mama to cook.
The house was surrounded with trees for shade. Most of them were china berry and walnut trees. One big Elm tree over by the tracks was where I climbed and played.
I grew up thinking I had everything and I still think that. That house holds many happy memories for me and it was home from the time I was two years old until I got married and left the first time. It will always be my home. No matter how old I get. As long as I live on this Earth that will be the home of my heart and soul. In my heart The King and Queen, Prince and Princess still live there. The house is still like it was then in my heart and nothing will replace that home until I leave this earth and go to my Heavenly Home. That was my only real home here on Earth!!!
To me the house that I grew up in was a Palace. My Mama and Daddy were the King and Queen. I was the Princess, and Norman was a Prince. I never saw the cracks in the wall or the rotting boards on the back porch and steps where I played. I thought the linoleum almost floating off the floor when the wind blew hard as a magic carpet and it was magical to me. I would walk back and forth on it as it came up around me. I thought it was a special thing just for me to enjoy. I loved watching the plastic curtains on the windows blow out from the wall and seem to float around.
The house had high ceilings which made it cooler in the summer but colder in the winter. When I was very young the bedrooms had no heat so they were closed off and just the front room and kitchen had any heat. That was just a little open heater with a flame that came up out of each burner. The back was asbestos then there were stone burners in front of each flame that heated up. You still could only get heat if your were very close. I used to stand very close when Mama and Daddy were not looking. So close the backs of my legs would be red from the heat. Mama jerked me away one day when she caught me and she said she smelled my hair singing in the heat. My hair was long and kinky and if it was kinked from the heat it didn't show but Mama was convinced that it had burned. From then on I was threatened fiercely if I ever stood that close again. I don't remember ever doing so either. Mama could make a believer out of me when it was necessary and it was certainly necessary then. Later on there was one of the same kind of stoves in the back room that gave us some heat in the bedrooms.
The roof was sheet iron. Which was only a thin piece of tin that rusted and had to be painted with silver paint of some kind when my Daddy could afford to have it done. That roof was magical to me also when it rained. I loved to hear rain beating down on that roof especially at night when I was snug in bed. Such a peaceful and comforting sound. Made me feel protected inside and I would think of the people who may be out in the rain and didn't have my house and bed to snuggle in. I felt sorry for those who didn't have what I had.
The house sat high off the ground on concrete blocks. No foundation, no under pining. We would crawl under there in the summer and play in the dirt making mud pies and digging in the sofr earth. In the winter Daddy kept potatoes and onions under the back side where it was a little lower to the ground. When he dug them from his garden they were laid out on the ground under a tree where it was shaded. Something was poured over them while they 'cured out'. Then in the fall when it got cold they were put under the house. They didn't freeze or rot. My job was to crawl under there with a paper sack and bring some in the house for Mama to cook.
The house was surrounded with trees for shade. Most of them were china berry and walnut trees. One big Elm tree over by the tracks was where I climbed and played.
I grew up thinking I had everything and I still think that. That house holds many happy memories for me and it was home from the time I was two years old until I got married and left the first time. It will always be my home. No matter how old I get. As long as I live on this Earth that will be the home of my heart and soul. In my heart The King and Queen, Prince and Princess still live there. The house is still like it was then in my heart and nothing will replace that home until I leave this earth and go to my Heavenly Home. That was my only real home here on Earth!!!
Friday, July 3, 2009
ADVENTURE WITH A BAG OF POTTING SOIL
7-3-09...ADVENTURE WITH A BAG OF POTTING SOIL
On Wednesday of this week I decided I needed to re pot some of my houseplants. I had a bag of potting soil in the carport so I brought it in. I was going to do it in the bathtub because it was so hot outside. First thing I noticed was the bag was wide open and I usually close them so it wont dry out. Then I noticed it was wet. I thought well darn how did this get wet in the carport. Still don't know how it happened but I think Don messed with it. He denies it but I don't believe him.
The first plant is in a huge pot and very heavy but I carried it to the tub. As I started dipping the soil out of the bag I noticed two dry clumps on the top. I scooted on to the side and put the other one in the trash and wondered why two little dry clumps in the very wet potting soil. Didn't think any more about it. This plant just needed to be topped off so I dipped the soil in and tamped it down with the cup. The other two I put in bigger pots and replaced them in my flower room but I left the big one along with the bag in the tub to take out later.
I went about my day and several times I went in the bathroom and noticed a clump of dirt in the pot like something had disturbed it so I would tamp it back down with the dipping cup. Several times this happened but I didn't think much about it only to wonder Why?
That night I went to the bathroom to take my shower and to carry the plant and bag of soil out. I started to reach in to get the plant and something moved slightly on the side of the tub. It startled me but when I looked closer I was staring in to the eyes of a little frog about the size of a quarter. O M G O M G!!!! I screamed to the top of my lungs and took off running. As I ran I was hollering, "GET IT GET IT"!!! Don just looked at me and said, "Be quiet what are you doing"? "Ththeresse a fffroog in there GET IT". He just looked at me and said "Well You Get It". Now he knows how terrified I am of frogs. I ran by him and kicked his foot as I went saying, "GET UP RIGHT NOW AND GET THAT FROG OR I'M LEAVING THIS HOUSE AND I WILL NOT COME BACK TILL I KNOW IT IS GONE"!
He sauntered on in there and picked it up and started for the door and dropped the thing and here it come hopping back my way. The race was on again. "GET THAT DURN THING DON HURRY UP"! Now guys there is no hurry up for Don. He has one gear and it is low and stripped out. He caught it again and it peed in his hand. He was madder n' a hornet and growling like a gorilla. Looked like one to, by the way. I watched him till I knew he had put the thing outside then I made him look in the bathroom for others, inspect the pot and the bag. I took the plant to the plant room and put the bag back in the carport. And sneaked back in the bathroom and inspected the premises very carefully again. I scrubbed the tub and decided to wait till morning for my shower. It was over (I thought) but I was still trembling. Now guys before you start making fun of me for my fear let me tell you it is very real. I have fainted before because a frog was put on me. Don't know the reason but it is a fact. The frog had to of been in the bag of potting soil. I dipped it in the plant, hence the disturbed soil all day. Somehow it escaped from my tamping it down and jumped out on the tub. That was the dry clump of soil.
But wait now**, Do you remember that clump of dry soil I put in the trash? YEP! Another frog but that is another story. It happened late in the night when I got up to go to the bathroom. I'll tell it later. Right now I'm trembling again just thinking about it.
Just don't ever put a frog on me or my Mama will reach down from Heaven and thump you on the head. And that's a fact!!! YEP!
On Wednesday of this week I decided I needed to re pot some of my houseplants. I had a bag of potting soil in the carport so I brought it in. I was going to do it in the bathtub because it was so hot outside. First thing I noticed was the bag was wide open and I usually close them so it wont dry out. Then I noticed it was wet. I thought well darn how did this get wet in the carport. Still don't know how it happened but I think Don messed with it. He denies it but I don't believe him.
The first plant is in a huge pot and very heavy but I carried it to the tub. As I started dipping the soil out of the bag I noticed two dry clumps on the top. I scooted on to the side and put the other one in the trash and wondered why two little dry clumps in the very wet potting soil. Didn't think any more about it. This plant just needed to be topped off so I dipped the soil in and tamped it down with the cup. The other two I put in bigger pots and replaced them in my flower room but I left the big one along with the bag in the tub to take out later.
I went about my day and several times I went in the bathroom and noticed a clump of dirt in the pot like something had disturbed it so I would tamp it back down with the dipping cup. Several times this happened but I didn't think much about it only to wonder Why?
That night I went to the bathroom to take my shower and to carry the plant and bag of soil out. I started to reach in to get the plant and something moved slightly on the side of the tub. It startled me but when I looked closer I was staring in to the eyes of a little frog about the size of a quarter. O M G O M G!!!! I screamed to the top of my lungs and took off running. As I ran I was hollering, "GET IT GET IT"!!! Don just looked at me and said, "Be quiet what are you doing"? "Ththeresse a fffroog in there GET IT". He just looked at me and said "Well You Get It". Now he knows how terrified I am of frogs. I ran by him and kicked his foot as I went saying, "GET UP RIGHT NOW AND GET THAT FROG OR I'M LEAVING THIS HOUSE AND I WILL NOT COME BACK TILL I KNOW IT IS GONE"!
He sauntered on in there and picked it up and started for the door and dropped the thing and here it come hopping back my way. The race was on again. "GET THAT DURN THING DON HURRY UP"! Now guys there is no hurry up for Don. He has one gear and it is low and stripped out. He caught it again and it peed in his hand. He was madder n' a hornet and growling like a gorilla. Looked like one to, by the way. I watched him till I knew he had put the thing outside then I made him look in the bathroom for others, inspect the pot and the bag. I took the plant to the plant room and put the bag back in the carport. And sneaked back in the bathroom and inspected the premises very carefully again. I scrubbed the tub and decided to wait till morning for my shower. It was over (I thought) but I was still trembling. Now guys before you start making fun of me for my fear let me tell you it is very real. I have fainted before because a frog was put on me. Don't know the reason but it is a fact. The frog had to of been in the bag of potting soil. I dipped it in the plant, hence the disturbed soil all day. Somehow it escaped from my tamping it down and jumped out on the tub. That was the dry clump of soil.
But wait now**, Do you remember that clump of dry soil I put in the trash? YEP! Another frog but that is another story. It happened late in the night when I got up to go to the bathroom. I'll tell it later. Right now I'm trembling again just thinking about it.
Just don't ever put a frog on me or my Mama will reach down from Heaven and thump you on the head. And that's a fact!!! YEP!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
DON'T STIR THE SPOILED STEW
7-2-09...DON'T STIR THE SPOILED STEW
I don't rightly know when I started forgetting more, making more messes, or just plain started doing things backwards but it doesn't matter. I'm There! I think that is what makes me remember so well in my past when I didn't do these things. OH BUT DID I?
Last Saturday I was doing my extra grooming that I do when I'm going out somewhere. Shape and paint my fingernails, do my hair, etc. Only thing about that is I'm much slower and tend to forget until the last minute. So late Saturday night I finally got started. First thing I did was spill half a bottle of nail polish in my lap. I stuck the little brush in the bottle and started applying it to my nails. Now guys why in the world did I hang on to the bottle while applying the polish? Heck fire how should I know. I did it and in the process the bottle tipped up and proceeded to pour out in my lap. I didn't even notice that until I started to dip the brush again and saw my pink lap. Well Good grief!!! Just the morning before I shook a bottle of foundation and the lid wasn't on tight so why now nail polish??
Later after my shower I sprayed clorox clean up all in my shower to clean it. As I bent over to scrub the clorox from the top of my shower leaked down in my hair, went all the way to my scalp and started burning.. Oh Good Grief I thought now I'm going to look like a skunk in the morning where that stuff dripped down the middle and bleached my hair. Besides that now I have to re wash my hair tonight and try to get it back in shape.
Now that brings me to what I did when I was about 12 yrs. Old.
I had black curly hair and I wished for blond straight hair. I decided to bleach my hair. Mama said no way so of course I decided I could do it myself. Didn't Mama have a gallon of purex bleach out by the washer? Sure she did! I know by now you know what is coming don't ya'?
WELLL!!!
I got the bottle of bleach and since it was warm outside I just poured some right out of the bottle over my head. That stuff burned every where it touched. I mean it burned like crazy. Thank God I didn't get any in my eyes because I could see my hands turning red. That is when I started screaming bloody murder. I mean I was screeching out those blood curdling yelps that must have raised the hair on Mamas head. Oh My Gosh I'm ruined I thought. I'm gonna' croak right here deader'n'a'doornail. Flat out croak!!!!
I heard the screen door slam and heard my Mama saying, “What in the world are you doing Clydene, stop that catawallin' and tell me what you have done now”!! Heck fire I was in intense pain and couldn't she see what I had done. I mean it was as plain as the nose on your face. Of course I didn't say that to Mama. Heck No!! Well my Mama indeed saw what I had done and she picked up the first thing she could find, which was a slop jar full of dirty water where I had scrubbed it, and threw it over my head, then dragged me to the tub of water that she had drawn to wash clothes and dunked my head and sloshed it around. I thought sure she was gonna drown me. Next came a quart of tomato juice then a can of pet milk to stop the sting. Then my hair and skin got washed thoroughly with soap and water. Worst bath I ever had in my life. But guess what? It Worked! Yep sure did.!! Mama was so scared that I didn't get a spanking and she watched me all the rest of the day for scalds or worse. I was never allowed to forget it though. Not till my poor Mom got like I am now and forgot things. I never brought it up either. Daddy always said No reason to stir the stew after it spoils. Nope!
By the way I still had curly black hair and I have never had any desire to be a blond again. WHY STIR THE ROTTEN STEW????
I don't rightly know when I started forgetting more, making more messes, or just plain started doing things backwards but it doesn't matter. I'm There! I think that is what makes me remember so well in my past when I didn't do these things. OH BUT DID I?
Last Saturday I was doing my extra grooming that I do when I'm going out somewhere. Shape and paint my fingernails, do my hair, etc. Only thing about that is I'm much slower and tend to forget until the last minute. So late Saturday night I finally got started. First thing I did was spill half a bottle of nail polish in my lap. I stuck the little brush in the bottle and started applying it to my nails. Now guys why in the world did I hang on to the bottle while applying the polish? Heck fire how should I know. I did it and in the process the bottle tipped up and proceeded to pour out in my lap. I didn't even notice that until I started to dip the brush again and saw my pink lap. Well Good grief!!! Just the morning before I shook a bottle of foundation and the lid wasn't on tight so why now nail polish??
Later after my shower I sprayed clorox clean up all in my shower to clean it. As I bent over to scrub the clorox from the top of my shower leaked down in my hair, went all the way to my scalp and started burning.. Oh Good Grief I thought now I'm going to look like a skunk in the morning where that stuff dripped down the middle and bleached my hair. Besides that now I have to re wash my hair tonight and try to get it back in shape.
Now that brings me to what I did when I was about 12 yrs. Old.
I had black curly hair and I wished for blond straight hair. I decided to bleach my hair. Mama said no way so of course I decided I could do it myself. Didn't Mama have a gallon of purex bleach out by the washer? Sure she did! I know by now you know what is coming don't ya'?
WELLL!!!
I got the bottle of bleach and since it was warm outside I just poured some right out of the bottle over my head. That stuff burned every where it touched. I mean it burned like crazy. Thank God I didn't get any in my eyes because I could see my hands turning red. That is when I started screaming bloody murder. I mean I was screeching out those blood curdling yelps that must have raised the hair on Mamas head. Oh My Gosh I'm ruined I thought. I'm gonna' croak right here deader'n'a'doornail. Flat out croak!!!!
I heard the screen door slam and heard my Mama saying, “What in the world are you doing Clydene, stop that catawallin' and tell me what you have done now”!! Heck fire I was in intense pain and couldn't she see what I had done. I mean it was as plain as the nose on your face. Of course I didn't say that to Mama. Heck No!! Well my Mama indeed saw what I had done and she picked up the first thing she could find, which was a slop jar full of dirty water where I had scrubbed it, and threw it over my head, then dragged me to the tub of water that she had drawn to wash clothes and dunked my head and sloshed it around. I thought sure she was gonna drown me. Next came a quart of tomato juice then a can of pet milk to stop the sting. Then my hair and skin got washed thoroughly with soap and water. Worst bath I ever had in my life. But guess what? It Worked! Yep sure did.!! Mama was so scared that I didn't get a spanking and she watched me all the rest of the day for scalds or worse. I was never allowed to forget it though. Not till my poor Mom got like I am now and forgot things. I never brought it up either. Daddy always said No reason to stir the stew after it spoils. Nope!
By the way I still had curly black hair and I have never had any desire to be a blond again. WHY STIR THE ROTTEN STEW????
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