9-6-09...HOLIDAYS???
When I was growing up there were not many Holidays that we celebrated. But then I don't think there were as many holidays then. Were there? Heck I don't know. Labor Day? Just like any other day in our house. It's the same for me today. Seems like there are too many so called Holidays' now. Most of them don't mean a thing for anyone but a picnic and a three day week-end. I seriously doubt they even know what the celebration is all about.
The Holidays we observed when I was growing up were for Family, Love of God, and everyone coming together in harmony and appreciation. Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving
The only thing I remember about Labor Day is that our new school term began the day after Labor Day. We didn't need days set aside for picnics. We indeed had picnics often. Our Picnics were just anytime we could all get together with a big wash tub full of ice and cokes, sandwiches, potato salad, pork and beans and something like cookies for dessert. YUMMY! The picnic would be in somebodies yard with everyone contributing.
On the 4th. Of July we all took our picnic to Turner Bend where there was a place for swimming and everyone was there from everywhere. My Papa's (Grandpa) birthday was the 4th of July so the day was more special. And Yep, we knew what the day was set aside for and the meaning.
I guess I'm just getting too old and set in my ways but I think most of the so called Holidays are just a reason for picnics that can turn in to something that doesn't even resemble what I call a Family picnic. Also have you noticed how many Holidays have been changed from the real day it originally was to Mondays? Three Day Week-ends??? Yep!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
GROWING OLD GRACEFULLY
9-3-09...GROWING OLD GRACEFULLY
I'm sure you all have heard the term, Growing Old Gracefully. Well there was a time when I envisioned that very thing. Sitting in the shade under a big shade tree with my granny hat on a big glass of iced tea or a steaming cup of coffee. Just wiling away my senior years in leisure. Free from worry and all the stresses of my younger years. Watching the birds and listening to nature around me. Stupiiiddd! What goofy thoughts. Honey it aint' that way at all. At least it isn't for me.
The only chair I am cumfy' in is my recliner with my feet up in the air. The thing I watch is my toes wiggling at the end of my foot, TV, and out the window where I wish I could be.
I'm not a bit graceful. The spring in my step has fizzled in to a fall if I aint' careful.
When I drag myself out of bed each morning I aint' listening to the birds. Heck I am making so much racket with my grunts and groans, bones poping like rice krispies, stumblin' and draggin' along hoping my feet are followin' me.
I turn slowly to the night stand and get my eyes on, focus for a minute then stumble out to the kitchen where my coffee should be brewed and ready if I'm lucky. From there I go to the Bathroom with shufflin' steps tryin' to watch my feet over my belly to make sure I don't stumble over sumpthin'. In the bathroom I sit on the pot if I have made it there in time. Here comes some more gruntin' and groanin' as I sit down and again as I get up. The next thing this graceful ol' gal does is splash cold water in her face to try and revive myself. My teeth are waiting in a little pink cup on the vanity.
Ok, Now I look in the mirror and decide that aint' me staring back out. But it is such a funny sight that I get myself an early mornin' giggle which always helps. By now I'm hoping that I can at least straighten up and walk without groaning. Sometimes I can.
It seems like hours now since I drug myself outta' bed. What I really wanna' do right now is just take my eyes and teeth out and off and go back to bed. Heck I'm worn out already. But I don't do that. Nope, I gracefully!? Move on out to my recliner, put the heat pad on my back, put my feet up and look to make sure my toes will still wiggle, watch the news on TV, and just Thank God that I have made it this far.
By now it is about 8:00 in the morning. The rest of the day looms before me and I am determined to make the best of it.
YEP! I'm definitely growing old But I sure aint' graceful about it. NOPE!!!!
I'm sure you all have heard the term, Growing Old Gracefully. Well there was a time when I envisioned that very thing. Sitting in the shade under a big shade tree with my granny hat on a big glass of iced tea or a steaming cup of coffee. Just wiling away my senior years in leisure. Free from worry and all the stresses of my younger years. Watching the birds and listening to nature around me. Stupiiiddd! What goofy thoughts. Honey it aint' that way at all. At least it isn't for me.
The only chair I am cumfy' in is my recliner with my feet up in the air. The thing I watch is my toes wiggling at the end of my foot, TV, and out the window where I wish I could be.
I'm not a bit graceful. The spring in my step has fizzled in to a fall if I aint' careful.
When I drag myself out of bed each morning I aint' listening to the birds. Heck I am making so much racket with my grunts and groans, bones poping like rice krispies, stumblin' and draggin' along hoping my feet are followin' me.
I turn slowly to the night stand and get my eyes on, focus for a minute then stumble out to the kitchen where my coffee should be brewed and ready if I'm lucky. From there I go to the Bathroom with shufflin' steps tryin' to watch my feet over my belly to make sure I don't stumble over sumpthin'. In the bathroom I sit on the pot if I have made it there in time. Here comes some more gruntin' and groanin' as I sit down and again as I get up. The next thing this graceful ol' gal does is splash cold water in her face to try and revive myself. My teeth are waiting in a little pink cup on the vanity.
Ok, Now I look in the mirror and decide that aint' me staring back out. But it is such a funny sight that I get myself an early mornin' giggle which always helps. By now I'm hoping that I can at least straighten up and walk without groaning. Sometimes I can.
It seems like hours now since I drug myself outta' bed. What I really wanna' do right now is just take my eyes and teeth out and off and go back to bed. Heck I'm worn out already. But I don't do that. Nope, I gracefully!? Move on out to my recliner, put the heat pad on my back, put my feet up and look to make sure my toes will still wiggle, watch the news on TV, and just Thank God that I have made it this far.
By now it is about 8:00 in the morning. The rest of the day looms before me and I am determined to make the best of it.
YEP! I'm definitely growing old But I sure aint' graceful about it. NOPE!!!!
Saturday, August 29, 2009
PLEASE DON'T TRY TO HURRY ME
8-29-09...PLEASE DON'T TRY TO HURRY ME
This story has to be told no matter how I feel. I need to giggle. Do you need to giggle? Yep Thought so.
I went in Wednesday for an MRI to determine what is causing the horrible pain I'm experiencing. First thing the lady at the reception desk was having trouble with her computer. She tried and tried to get my insurance card to go through and they just kept saying I was not insured by them. The poor girl was getting flustered and so was I. She wanted me to pay a down payment because she knew the medicare would not come close to paying the bill. I was upset and in a lot of pain but I just kept telling myself to cool it. Think Clydene Think,! I thought, She is doing her job. But hey now I need this MRI and I have probably $20.00 in my purse. Besides that I know I have this supplemental insurance so I can't just walk away and let this go. I asked her why she didn't get on the phone and call them. She did, three times to be exact. No Dice!
In the sweetest voice I could muster up I said, "Call them back and let me talk to them". She did, and I did. Come to find out she was giving the wrong birth date. GOOD GRIEF!!
By then I was late and the girls were waiting on me and they were flustered. They started rushing me right away. Their schedule was off. Now folks don't try to hurry up a 65 yr. Old lady in pain. Most people know this but this young girl had not learned that yet. NOPE!
She handed me one of those glorified bibs that they call gowns. You know what I mean. They cover nothing. I can never get the dang things tied in back. She put me in a tiny room and told me to take everything off except my shoes and put the bib on.
I started disrobing. I was down to my panties when I noticed on the wall in front of me this gigantic mirror. That sucker started at the floor and went up way above my head. Oh My Gosh! The site before me scared the stuffins' outta' me. YEP! I almost let out a scream. Now tell me what in the name of all decency would cause them to even think that anyone would want a full length mirror in that tiny little cubicle. What I needed right then was a pot, not a mirror. GOOD GRIEF!!!
As I stood there in shock there was a knock on the door. "Miss Overbey, are you ready"? To which I replied, " Just a second honey", What I wanted to say can't be recorded here. But hey I didn't say it. Nope. I hurried as fast as I could into that bib, opened the door and said very sweetly, "Honey would you help me get this fastened behind"? She did that though I felt reluctantly and we were on our way. I took my shoes off before I laid down. She very hurriedly twisted me the way she wanted me to lay and put headphones on my head. "What kind of music do you like". "Put it on 88.9 please", which is our local southern gospel music station. She did that and started putting me feet first in to that chamber. Thirty minutes later they took me out and took me back to that cubby hole where my clothes had been locked in. I couldn't get the darn ties un done on that dang bib so I just pulled real hard and tore the darn tie off.
Now Guys, Through all this ordeal I kept my cool. I wanted to box ears and slap jaws but I didn't. Hey the only thing I did that I shouldn't have was break the strings on that stupid bib. I'm Proud Of Myself. YEP!!!
This story has to be told no matter how I feel. I need to giggle. Do you need to giggle? Yep Thought so.
I went in Wednesday for an MRI to determine what is causing the horrible pain I'm experiencing. First thing the lady at the reception desk was having trouble with her computer. She tried and tried to get my insurance card to go through and they just kept saying I was not insured by them. The poor girl was getting flustered and so was I. She wanted me to pay a down payment because she knew the medicare would not come close to paying the bill. I was upset and in a lot of pain but I just kept telling myself to cool it. Think Clydene Think,! I thought, She is doing her job. But hey now I need this MRI and I have probably $20.00 in my purse. Besides that I know I have this supplemental insurance so I can't just walk away and let this go. I asked her why she didn't get on the phone and call them. She did, three times to be exact. No Dice!
In the sweetest voice I could muster up I said, "Call them back and let me talk to them". She did, and I did. Come to find out she was giving the wrong birth date. GOOD GRIEF!!
By then I was late and the girls were waiting on me and they were flustered. They started rushing me right away. Their schedule was off. Now folks don't try to hurry up a 65 yr. Old lady in pain. Most people know this but this young girl had not learned that yet. NOPE!
She handed me one of those glorified bibs that they call gowns. You know what I mean. They cover nothing. I can never get the dang things tied in back. She put me in a tiny room and told me to take everything off except my shoes and put the bib on.
I started disrobing. I was down to my panties when I noticed on the wall in front of me this gigantic mirror. That sucker started at the floor and went up way above my head. Oh My Gosh! The site before me scared the stuffins' outta' me. YEP! I almost let out a scream. Now tell me what in the name of all decency would cause them to even think that anyone would want a full length mirror in that tiny little cubicle. What I needed right then was a pot, not a mirror. GOOD GRIEF!!!
As I stood there in shock there was a knock on the door. "Miss Overbey, are you ready"? To which I replied, " Just a second honey", What I wanted to say can't be recorded here. But hey I didn't say it. Nope. I hurried as fast as I could into that bib, opened the door and said very sweetly, "Honey would you help me get this fastened behind"? She did that though I felt reluctantly and we were on our way. I took my shoes off before I laid down. She very hurriedly twisted me the way she wanted me to lay and put headphones on my head. "What kind of music do you like". "Put it on 88.9 please", which is our local southern gospel music station. She did that and started putting me feet first in to that chamber. Thirty minutes later they took me out and took me back to that cubby hole where my clothes had been locked in. I couldn't get the darn ties un done on that dang bib so I just pulled real hard and tore the darn tie off.
Now Guys, Through all this ordeal I kept my cool. I wanted to box ears and slap jaws but I didn't. Hey the only thing I did that I shouldn't have was break the strings on that stupid bib. I'm Proud Of Myself. YEP!!!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
SHOUDA HADA COUDA WOUDA
8-25-09...SHOUDA HADA COUDA WOUDA
How may times have I looked back on things and thought. Oh, if I just wouda done that different. If I hada done that I couda had this and I wouda been so much better satisfied. Sure nuff I wouda but if I hada then what wouda that caused. Sometimes I just drive myself bonkers this way. And what on earth difference does it make now. IT'S DONE and that's that.
That has been my thoughts for quiet a while now. Why did I marry him? I'm talking about my second husband. I was young when I married the first idiot and didn't have enough sense to know any better but not the second time. The second time I shoulda' known better. I was still young enough that I coulda' had a very happy life. But I thought I needed someone beside me. A helper, a companion, a friend. I though he was it. I met him in Church. I thought he was a kind generous christian man. I thought he would be a good stepdad for my 11 yr. Old son. I thought so many wrong things.
He ended up destroying my life, my happiness, my peace, and my self esteem. He took the best of me and stomped it in the ground. I hold him indirectly responsible for my Son's death. He took me away from all my Family. I saw my Daddy only a few times the year he died.
I thought I couldn't get away from him. After my Son died I gave up completely and just didn't care.
Now here I set in tormenting pain and I am wondering WHY?
We can never go back and wondering why is just a waste of my time. I'm 65 years old and I don't plan to waste anymore of my time dwelling on, couda, shouda, wouda, or if I hada done it different. Nope! I'm not wasting any more time. Within the next few months some things are going to change in my life and they are going to be well thought out and Prayed about. Which by the way I shouda, done in 1982 when I married him. YEP!!
How may times have I looked back on things and thought. Oh, if I just wouda done that different. If I hada done that I couda had this and I wouda been so much better satisfied. Sure nuff I wouda but if I hada then what wouda that caused. Sometimes I just drive myself bonkers this way. And what on earth difference does it make now. IT'S DONE and that's that.
That has been my thoughts for quiet a while now. Why did I marry him? I'm talking about my second husband. I was young when I married the first idiot and didn't have enough sense to know any better but not the second time. The second time I shoulda' known better. I was still young enough that I coulda' had a very happy life. But I thought I needed someone beside me. A helper, a companion, a friend. I though he was it. I met him in Church. I thought he was a kind generous christian man. I thought he would be a good stepdad for my 11 yr. Old son. I thought so many wrong things.
He ended up destroying my life, my happiness, my peace, and my self esteem. He took the best of me and stomped it in the ground. I hold him indirectly responsible for my Son's death. He took me away from all my Family. I saw my Daddy only a few times the year he died.
I thought I couldn't get away from him. After my Son died I gave up completely and just didn't care.
Now here I set in tormenting pain and I am wondering WHY?
We can never go back and wondering why is just a waste of my time. I'm 65 years old and I don't plan to waste anymore of my time dwelling on, couda, shouda, wouda, or if I hada done it different. Nope! I'm not wasting any more time. Within the next few months some things are going to change in my life and they are going to be well thought out and Prayed about. Which by the way I shouda, done in 1982 when I married him. YEP!!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
SLOW DOWN! GATHER SOME TREASURES!
8-20-09...SLOW DOWN! GATHER SOME TREASURES!
My Goodness the world needs to slow down. Everyone is in such a hurry that they can't enjoy their life. No one even wants to stop and just visit anymore. What is the hurry I'd like to know. I realize things are different now that they were in my time but Good Grief! It just seems to me that most people now a days want it that way. I guess there are more reasons to be busy now than there was then. I just know that being too busy causes you to miss a lot if you don't take time to relax and enjoy things around you.
When I was first married in 1962 I was like that. Hurry, hurry, hurry. My house was always spotless. Not a wrinkle or a speck of dust found anywhere. I mean if you so desired to do it you could have eat off my floors.
When my son was born in 1971 I had suffered six miscarriages already. He was so precious to me my hurry up came to a halt. I didn't care if you could plant a garden in my dust, or eat yesterday's leftovers off my floor. Heck fire no!
I gave Richard all my love and attention. He never lacked from his Mamma being in too much of a hurry to pay attention to him. I rocked him, read to him, laughed and giggled with him. I gave him so much love. When he was old enough I took him on picnics, camp outs in the back yard, fishing, swimming, skating, pizza parties and the list is endless. In other words I enjoyed him at my leisure. I quit my job and stayed home with him through his tender years not going back to work until he started school.
I enjoyed every minute of my time with Richard and I now cherish those memories. I had no way of knowing that his sweet life would be cut so short. I am Thankful now that I didn't hurry up while I had him. I would have missed so much. I saw his first tooth come out and I still have that tooth. What a treasure.
Please friends, slow down. Don't say you can't because you can. Enjoy everything and everyone in your life. Take time to visit friends and family. Give everyone a piece of yourself and just think how much you will gain. Store up precious Memories in your heart. If they are taken out of your life too soon open up all the treasures they left behind for you to enjoy. GOD BLESS ALL WHO READ THIS.
My Goodness the world needs to slow down. Everyone is in such a hurry that they can't enjoy their life. No one even wants to stop and just visit anymore. What is the hurry I'd like to know. I realize things are different now that they were in my time but Good Grief! It just seems to me that most people now a days want it that way. I guess there are more reasons to be busy now than there was then. I just know that being too busy causes you to miss a lot if you don't take time to relax and enjoy things around you.
When I was first married in 1962 I was like that. Hurry, hurry, hurry. My house was always spotless. Not a wrinkle or a speck of dust found anywhere. I mean if you so desired to do it you could have eat off my floors.
When my son was born in 1971 I had suffered six miscarriages already. He was so precious to me my hurry up came to a halt. I didn't care if you could plant a garden in my dust, or eat yesterday's leftovers off my floor. Heck fire no!
I gave Richard all my love and attention. He never lacked from his Mamma being in too much of a hurry to pay attention to him. I rocked him, read to him, laughed and giggled with him. I gave him so much love. When he was old enough I took him on picnics, camp outs in the back yard, fishing, swimming, skating, pizza parties and the list is endless. In other words I enjoyed him at my leisure. I quit my job and stayed home with him through his tender years not going back to work until he started school.
I enjoyed every minute of my time with Richard and I now cherish those memories. I had no way of knowing that his sweet life would be cut so short. I am Thankful now that I didn't hurry up while I had him. I would have missed so much. I saw his first tooth come out and I still have that tooth. What a treasure.
Please friends, slow down. Don't say you can't because you can. Enjoy everything and everyone in your life. Take time to visit friends and family. Give everyone a piece of yourself and just think how much you will gain. Store up precious Memories in your heart. If they are taken out of your life too soon open up all the treasures they left behind for you to enjoy. GOD BLESS ALL WHO READ THIS.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
THINGS TO PONDER
8-19-09...THINGS TO PONDER
I see these things all the time titled, THINGS I'VE LEARNED. Well these are some things I really hope I've learned. When I meet a grouchy rude person, I think, Well that was me just yesterday and I thought I had a good reason. No telling what this person has on his/her mind. I've tried to learn that when I get way down in the mire and just stick there, to hold my arms up to the Lord and kick like I was kicking the devil. God expects us to offer a little too and not just depend on him to do it all. Well! Do you expect to have to do it all? I've tried to learn never to argue with my spouse but just say I know you are right honey, then just go ahead and do what I had started to do as long as it is not something hurtful or STUPID! Likely in the long run he will think he did it himself if it works out. I hope I've learned who my true Friends are. They are the ones who will cry with you, not offer unheeded advice, let you cry on their shoulder and not say "WELL HONEY so and so had this worse than you have and they did OK. Hey, It is not going to make my situation any easier knowing that millions of others have had the same problem. It is still the same for me, I feel for them but right now let me think of myself for a little while. A true Friend is there for me when I need them or I am down in that bog. The other friends are great and I love them but when I get all bogged down they run the other way. Heck Why should they get muddy with me. And I think the best thing I HAVE LEARNED Is: Cry out to God first and foremost and He will supply those Friends to help me and be with me While HE Works The Whole thing out!
I see these things all the time titled, THINGS I'VE LEARNED. Well these are some things I really hope I've learned. When I meet a grouchy rude person, I think, Well that was me just yesterday and I thought I had a good reason. No telling what this person has on his/her mind. I've tried to learn that when I get way down in the mire and just stick there, to hold my arms up to the Lord and kick like I was kicking the devil. God expects us to offer a little too and not just depend on him to do it all. Well! Do you expect to have to do it all? I've tried to learn never to argue with my spouse but just say I know you are right honey, then just go ahead and do what I had started to do as long as it is not something hurtful or STUPID! Likely in the long run he will think he did it himself if it works out. I hope I've learned who my true Friends are. They are the ones who will cry with you, not offer unheeded advice, let you cry on their shoulder and not say "WELL HONEY so and so had this worse than you have and they did OK. Hey, It is not going to make my situation any easier knowing that millions of others have had the same problem. It is still the same for me, I feel for them but right now let me think of myself for a little while. A true Friend is there for me when I need them or I am down in that bog. The other friends are great and I love them but when I get all bogged down they run the other way. Heck Why should they get muddy with me. And I think the best thing I HAVE LEARNED Is: Cry out to God first and foremost and He will supply those Friends to help me and be with me While HE Works The Whole thing out!
A TRIBUTE TO RICHARD
8-19-09...A TRIBUTE TO RICHARD
Richard Don 02/05/1971 to 07/17/1987
Still alive in my heart.
My Son was only 16 when he was killed in a car crash. I checked out of life for a while. (very bad thing to do) I even asked God to take me too but of course that was bad too. I wallowed in self pity for a long time, bad bad bad. I wouldn't talk about Richard to anyone just kept it all bottled up inside. I didn't sleep much, didn't eat much, quit my job, blocked out my Friends and Family, and just generally tried to stop living out in the open. These were all wrong but the worst thing I did was to stop going to Church and stopped Praying. Somehow God got through to me (He was the only one who could and I knew that but I was shutting him out also). God made me see that I had a life to live and people who loved and needed me. Richard was my only Child and my Pride and Joy and I was letting his memory stay in the recesses of my mind. God guided me through it and it wasn't easy but I finally decided to enjoy life again. I can and will talk about the tragedy now in hopes of helping other's in the same situation. I remember the good times with my Son and I can smile again. I Thank God for allowing me to have this precious boy in my life for 16 and 1/2 years. He was a Joy and I still feel Joy just thinking about him. Right now I am smiling through tears. Yes I do still cry sometimes but today I am also smiling!!!
Richard Don 02/05/1971 to 07/17/1987
Still alive in my heart.
My Son was only 16 when he was killed in a car crash. I checked out of life for a while. (very bad thing to do) I even asked God to take me too but of course that was bad too. I wallowed in self pity for a long time, bad bad bad. I wouldn't talk about Richard to anyone just kept it all bottled up inside. I didn't sleep much, didn't eat much, quit my job, blocked out my Friends and Family, and just generally tried to stop living out in the open. These were all wrong but the worst thing I did was to stop going to Church and stopped Praying. Somehow God got through to me (He was the only one who could and I knew that but I was shutting him out also). God made me see that I had a life to live and people who loved and needed me. Richard was my only Child and my Pride and Joy and I was letting his memory stay in the recesses of my mind. God guided me through it and it wasn't easy but I finally decided to enjoy life again. I can and will talk about the tragedy now in hopes of helping other's in the same situation. I remember the good times with my Son and I can smile again. I Thank God for allowing me to have this precious boy in my life for 16 and 1/2 years. He was a Joy and I still feel Joy just thinking about him. Right now I am smiling through tears. Yes I do still cry sometimes but today I am also smiling!!!
THINGS THAT FLUSTER ME, AND SHOULDN'T
8-18-09...Things That Fluster Me, And Shouldn't
Some things that bother me shouldn't. I find myself getting all frustrated and bothered about things I can do nothing about. That Is what this event, (below) reminds me of.
TWO CROWS AND A MOCKINBIRD
I was looking out the window this AM from my breakfast and there was a big black crow in a drainage ditch poking around and eating (no telling what) and all at once two Mockingbirds flew down. One got on either side of the crow and started dive bombing him. The crow tried fighting back for a while but that didn't work. Then he started trying to ignore the pesky mockingbirds. Well that didn't work either so that ol' crow just wore himself out trying to avoid them and keep at the task of poking around at the muck below him. I was wondering to myself, Now self why would those Mockingbirds be so persistent in trying to run off that ol' black crow. I don't think they want what that crow is consuming! Finally the crow grew weary enough to fly away and I thought to myself, Now self I'll see what those Mockingbirds were so mad about. Well those two little mockingbirds looked up for a while as if to say, " well we got rid of that sucker! And then they just gracefully flew away also. I still don't really know why the little birds were wanting to chase away that ol' crow but it just made me think. Isn't that just the way I am sometimes. If something or somebody don't look just right to me I just might try to chase whatever it is away. They didn't want what the crow had. They just didn't want the crow to have it either. Then there is another thing I thought about,- If you pester me enough I just might be tempted to fly away too without knowing why. Of if I pester people who frustrate me, maybe they would fly away. Now that's a good idea!Sometimes it takes hanging in there and letting the bothersome things not be 'SO DAB BLAMED BOTHERSOME' !!!!!!!!!!
Some things that bother me shouldn't. I find myself getting all frustrated and bothered about things I can do nothing about. That Is what this event, (below) reminds me of.
TWO CROWS AND A MOCKINBIRD
I was looking out the window this AM from my breakfast and there was a big black crow in a drainage ditch poking around and eating (no telling what) and all at once two Mockingbirds flew down. One got on either side of the crow and started dive bombing him. The crow tried fighting back for a while but that didn't work. Then he started trying to ignore the pesky mockingbirds. Well that didn't work either so that ol' crow just wore himself out trying to avoid them and keep at the task of poking around at the muck below him. I was wondering to myself, Now self why would those Mockingbirds be so persistent in trying to run off that ol' black crow. I don't think they want what that crow is consuming! Finally the crow grew weary enough to fly away and I thought to myself, Now self I'll see what those Mockingbirds were so mad about. Well those two little mockingbirds looked up for a while as if to say, " well we got rid of that sucker! And then they just gracefully flew away also. I still don't really know why the little birds were wanting to chase away that ol' crow but it just made me think. Isn't that just the way I am sometimes. If something or somebody don't look just right to me I just might try to chase whatever it is away. They didn't want what the crow had. They just didn't want the crow to have it either. Then there is another thing I thought about,- If you pester me enough I just might be tempted to fly away too without knowing why. Of if I pester people who frustrate me, maybe they would fly away. Now that's a good idea!Sometimes it takes hanging in there and letting the bothersome things not be 'SO DAB BLAMED BOTHERSOME' !!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
LOOK BEFORE YOU FLUSH
8-18-09...LOOK BEFORE YOU FLUSH!!
There isn't much about my first husband that I want to remember. Not much about him worth remembering. He was the Father of my only son. One good thing he did.
He was an alcoholic and a mean one. My memories of him are not good or pleasant.
Because he stayed drunk most of the time he did things that were funny. Not funny then, maddening, terrible, and hurtful to me.
Richard was three when this incident took place. We lived in a fairly decent house that was rented. We had a bathroom of sorts and had not had one before. Richard was my pride and joy and my only reason for even caring at the time.
One night I woke and heard my husband barfing in the bathroom. I was trying to be quiet, I knew he was drunk and I didn't want him turning on me. I was just thinking, Oh my gosh, I sure hope he is hitting the pot with that and not the floor. I heard the toilet flush and finally went back to sleep.
Next morning way before daylight I woke hearing something out in the field behind the house. I kept hearing , grunt, grunt, thunk, thunk, clang, clang, plop plop and more grunts and groans.. I finally got up and looked outside. All I saw was a weak light that I figured was a flashlight. Well shoot fire I thought, whoever that is must be nuts, I aint messing with them. I tried going back to sleep but couldn't. I went and got Richard and put him in bed with me. Then I just laid there until daylight listening to those strange noises.
When I finally looked out I saw a big mound of dirt and more being slung out by someone with a shovel. Then I recognized the slinger of the dirt as being my husband. I thought, ''Oh Good Grief, what in the world is that nut doing? That is not our land. He can't just start diggin' anywhere he wants to. My gosh he'll get us put out of this house. First decent one we've lived in and he's gonna' get us run off''! I mean my mind was going fast and those thoughts were flying' round' faster than that dirt was being flung. I opened the back door and hollered at him. He came to the house and finally told me the story.
Seems during the night he had thrown up all his supper in the commode. I thought 'Tell me something I don't already know. I knew that much'. Well by golly while he was pukin' up his supper he also spit out his false teeth. Since he was drunk he wasn't very clear headed. He flushed the pot and stood there in a stupor and watched his teeth go down the drain with the puke. Yep! Sure nuff' did!
Why was he diggin' in the field you ask? Well he figured out the septic tank was there and by gosh he was gonna dig that sucker up and get his teeth. I finally convinced him that was impossible and he'd better get all that dirt back in the hole before the landlord saw it. While he was doing that I discovered that the commode was stopped up. With a little bit of common sense I figured out why. Yep, his dang teeth were stuck in the pot. Good Grief!
We had to have a plumber come take the pot out and retrieve his teeth. I was mad at the time and I took Richard and we walked around the block. Later I cleaned up the horrific mess and noticed he had his teeth in his mouth. I still gross out on that fact! I mean you couldn't have cleaned them things enough for me to put them in my mouth. NOPE! No way!
My Daddy always said. Honey always laugh so you wont have to cry. Well Daddy it took me many years to be able to laugh at that one, but you'd be proud to know that today I am laughing. THANK YOU DADDY!!!!
There isn't much about my first husband that I want to remember. Not much about him worth remembering. He was the Father of my only son. One good thing he did.
He was an alcoholic and a mean one. My memories of him are not good or pleasant.
Because he stayed drunk most of the time he did things that were funny. Not funny then, maddening, terrible, and hurtful to me.
Richard was three when this incident took place. We lived in a fairly decent house that was rented. We had a bathroom of sorts and had not had one before. Richard was my pride and joy and my only reason for even caring at the time.
One night I woke and heard my husband barfing in the bathroom. I was trying to be quiet, I knew he was drunk and I didn't want him turning on me. I was just thinking, Oh my gosh, I sure hope he is hitting the pot with that and not the floor. I heard the toilet flush and finally went back to sleep.
Next morning way before daylight I woke hearing something out in the field behind the house. I kept hearing , grunt, grunt, thunk, thunk, clang, clang, plop plop and more grunts and groans.. I finally got up and looked outside. All I saw was a weak light that I figured was a flashlight. Well shoot fire I thought, whoever that is must be nuts, I aint messing with them. I tried going back to sleep but couldn't. I went and got Richard and put him in bed with me. Then I just laid there until daylight listening to those strange noises.
When I finally looked out I saw a big mound of dirt and more being slung out by someone with a shovel. Then I recognized the slinger of the dirt as being my husband. I thought, ''Oh Good Grief, what in the world is that nut doing? That is not our land. He can't just start diggin' anywhere he wants to. My gosh he'll get us put out of this house. First decent one we've lived in and he's gonna' get us run off''! I mean my mind was going fast and those thoughts were flying' round' faster than that dirt was being flung. I opened the back door and hollered at him. He came to the house and finally told me the story.
Seems during the night he had thrown up all his supper in the commode. I thought 'Tell me something I don't already know. I knew that much'. Well by golly while he was pukin' up his supper he also spit out his false teeth. Since he was drunk he wasn't very clear headed. He flushed the pot and stood there in a stupor and watched his teeth go down the drain with the puke. Yep! Sure nuff' did!
Why was he diggin' in the field you ask? Well he figured out the septic tank was there and by gosh he was gonna dig that sucker up and get his teeth. I finally convinced him that was impossible and he'd better get all that dirt back in the hole before the landlord saw it. While he was doing that I discovered that the commode was stopped up. With a little bit of common sense I figured out why. Yep, his dang teeth were stuck in the pot. Good Grief!
We had to have a plumber come take the pot out and retrieve his teeth. I was mad at the time and I took Richard and we walked around the block. Later I cleaned up the horrific mess and noticed he had his teeth in his mouth. I still gross out on that fact! I mean you couldn't have cleaned them things enough for me to put them in my mouth. NOPE! No way!
My Daddy always said. Honey always laugh so you wont have to cry. Well Daddy it took me many years to be able to laugh at that one, but you'd be proud to know that today I am laughing. THANK YOU DADDY!!!!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
A MOUSE IN MY PANTS
8-15-09...A MOUSE IN MY PANTS
I don't like those little critters called mice. If I see one it always startles the heck outta' me. I don't like the idea that those little varmits are scurrying all around my house and on my things. They just absolutely give me the creeps. During my first marriage I went to work. I had to get up at 3 AM every morning in order to be on the job at 5 AM. I tried to be quiet so I wouldn't wake my son and my husband and mostly dressed in the dark so I could stand by the wood stove in the winter. I laid out my clothes the night before on a chair so They would be there when I got ready.
One very cold snowy morning I was standing by the stove putting my clothes on. I had my bra and sweater on and was ready for my work pants. I put one leg in the pants, raised the other leg and was putting it in the other pant leg. About half way down I felt something furry and boy howdy it was wiggling. I tried to get my leg outta' there but I started stumbling. Instead of taking my leg out it went on down. I was standing on the pant leg at the bottom. By golly whatever was in there wanted out as much as I did and it was moving on I tell ya'.
Up and down my leg it was going, likity' split. In my stunned state of mind I went goofy. I mean I was goofy. If I hadn't of been goofy I would have sit down and stripped outta' them pants in a hurry now wouldn't I have? But I didn't do that. Heck fire no. I didn't do that!! Instead I headed for the door stumblin' along with my foot on the pant leg. How I did it I'll never know but I tore out on the deck, stepped in the snow, and down I went, still trapping that thing in my pants. Good Grief!! No one woke up and I was on my own. I finally figured out I had to get outta' them pants or that thing had to get outta' them pants. Didn't matter much which one but one of us had to go!!!
The porch light was on thank goodness. I must have turned it on but I can't remember doing it. I turned on my back and started wiggling' for all I was worth to get outta' them pants. That thing in my pants was wigglin' too and I was about to go crazy I think. Finally my pants were off and I saw a blasted ol' mouse scurrying off the deck. That thing was moving I'm here to tell ya'.
I took my aching body back in the house. I wasn't about to wear pants that a mouse had been in the leg of so I got another pair, got dressed and took off for work. Had no breakfast but I had a cup of coffee before the mouse in the pants episode started so that did me till dinner time. That's noon down my way ya' know.
I survived, the mouse survived, and I set mouse traps all over the place that night. YEP!! Don't want no more mice in my pants. NOPE!!
I don't like those little critters called mice. If I see one it always startles the heck outta' me. I don't like the idea that those little varmits are scurrying all around my house and on my things. They just absolutely give me the creeps. During my first marriage I went to work. I had to get up at 3 AM every morning in order to be on the job at 5 AM. I tried to be quiet so I wouldn't wake my son and my husband and mostly dressed in the dark so I could stand by the wood stove in the winter. I laid out my clothes the night before on a chair so They would be there when I got ready.
One very cold snowy morning I was standing by the stove putting my clothes on. I had my bra and sweater on and was ready for my work pants. I put one leg in the pants, raised the other leg and was putting it in the other pant leg. About half way down I felt something furry and boy howdy it was wiggling. I tried to get my leg outta' there but I started stumbling. Instead of taking my leg out it went on down. I was standing on the pant leg at the bottom. By golly whatever was in there wanted out as much as I did and it was moving on I tell ya'.
Up and down my leg it was going, likity' split. In my stunned state of mind I went goofy. I mean I was goofy. If I hadn't of been goofy I would have sit down and stripped outta' them pants in a hurry now wouldn't I have? But I didn't do that. Heck fire no. I didn't do that!! Instead I headed for the door stumblin' along with my foot on the pant leg. How I did it I'll never know but I tore out on the deck, stepped in the snow, and down I went, still trapping that thing in my pants. Good Grief!! No one woke up and I was on my own. I finally figured out I had to get outta' them pants or that thing had to get outta' them pants. Didn't matter much which one but one of us had to go!!!
The porch light was on thank goodness. I must have turned it on but I can't remember doing it. I turned on my back and started wiggling' for all I was worth to get outta' them pants. That thing in my pants was wigglin' too and I was about to go crazy I think. Finally my pants were off and I saw a blasted ol' mouse scurrying off the deck. That thing was moving I'm here to tell ya'.
I took my aching body back in the house. I wasn't about to wear pants that a mouse had been in the leg of so I got another pair, got dressed and took off for work. Had no breakfast but I had a cup of coffee before the mouse in the pants episode started so that did me till dinner time. That's noon down my way ya' know.
I survived, the mouse survived, and I set mouse traps all over the place that night. YEP!! Don't want no more mice in my pants. NOPE!!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
LEARNING THE HARD WAY, BY DOING
8-12-09...LEARNING THE HARD WAY, BY DOING
I've heard it said that we learn by doing. That is true to a certain extent but only goes so far. I think it's more like 'You learn the hard way'. Yep. I learned so many things the hard way.
Even as toddlers no matter how many times someone says 'Don't touch that, it's hot' , do we really learn that till we actually touch it? Heck no. We are born with that, 'I'll do it myself' right in there.
When I was in grade school and all the way to about my eighth grade, girls were not allowed to wear pants to school. We didn't really think much about it, that's just the way it was.
I think I was in the eighth grade when it was announced that girls could wear jeans to school on Friday's. Just one day a week we could do something that had been forbidden. Wow! Now that sounded great to us. We discussed it in school that day and we were very excited.
I told Mama when I got home, “Mama I'm gonna wear jeans to school Friday they said we can”. Well Mama burst my bubble real quick like when she said, “Clydene how can you wear jeans to school when you don't have any jeans to wear”? Well good grief I hadn't thought it through that far. It was Monday and I had till Friday. I guess I just thought a pair of jeans would materialize out of a big puff of blue smoke or something. Heck fire I could and I was gonna! Yeaw sure I was.
It was two weeks before Daddy brought me a pair of red jeans when he came home from work on Friday night. Oh My Gosh I was in hog heaven, floatin' on a cloud, sittin' on top of a mountain, I mean I couldn't wait till the next Friday.
The next day was Saturday and I got up and put my red jeans on. Mamma told me I better take them off so I wouldn't get them messed up before school the next Friday. I vowed I would not get em' messed up. Shoot I wouldn't even go outside today.
That was one time I learned a very hard lesson in a very hard way. YEP!
I did stay in most of the day but I got bored around noon. I didn't know what to do with myself cooped up in the house trying to not mess up my red jeans. I should have just took them off and hung them up. But heck no, Not Me!
Grandma was sewing something. I picked up her scissors and started messing around with them. I was told to put them down but I was as stubborn as a barnyard mule. I started just opening and closing the blades while holding them on my leg. Mamma said, “Clydene put them scissors down before you cut yourself”. I opened and closed them a couple of times before I put them down, just for good measure ya know. Then was when the hard lesson started. I looked down at the leg of my new red jeans and saw two uneven cuts. Oh My Gosh! I had cut holes in my new red jeans and I was devastated. Mama was livid! “Clydene I told you to take those off this morning before you messed them up. Then I told you to put those scissors down. Now just look what you've done”!
I started bellering like an old bull. “Grandma fix em. You can fix em' cant you?” Mama said, “Yes Clydene your Grandma is gonna fix em. She is gonna put a green patch on em' and your gonna' wear em' like that”. Oh Gosh, Oh My, now what was I gonna do? I couldn't wear red jeans with green patches to school. No, I just wouldn't do that. Nope! When I told Mama I wouldn't wear em with a green patch she said, “Oh yes you will Clydene. You will wear them to school Monday”. I bellered and bawled for the whole time Grandma had the jeans fixin' them but true to her word Mama handed me my red jeans later with the biggest green patch you ever saw right in the middle of the leg. I ran outside and told Daddy on them two by golly. He will help me I thought. Yep I thought. Well he didn't help me after he heard the story.
They gave me a couple of hours to stew on this before Mama handed me the red jeans. The green patch was gone. Grandma had indeed fixed them almost good as new with her small stitches. The tares were hardly visible. Seems Grandma had just basted that green patch over the holes in my jeans. They were ready and OK to wear and I was grateful.
I learned this lesson by doing and I learned it the hard way at the same time. Yep! It took a lot sometimes to penetrate my hard head. My Parents knew that and they were more than up to the challenge. YEP!
I've heard it said that we learn by doing. That is true to a certain extent but only goes so far. I think it's more like 'You learn the hard way'. Yep. I learned so many things the hard way.
Even as toddlers no matter how many times someone says 'Don't touch that, it's hot' , do we really learn that till we actually touch it? Heck no. We are born with that, 'I'll do it myself' right in there.
When I was in grade school and all the way to about my eighth grade, girls were not allowed to wear pants to school. We didn't really think much about it, that's just the way it was.
I think I was in the eighth grade when it was announced that girls could wear jeans to school on Friday's. Just one day a week we could do something that had been forbidden. Wow! Now that sounded great to us. We discussed it in school that day and we were very excited.
I told Mama when I got home, “Mama I'm gonna wear jeans to school Friday they said we can”. Well Mama burst my bubble real quick like when she said, “Clydene how can you wear jeans to school when you don't have any jeans to wear”? Well good grief I hadn't thought it through that far. It was Monday and I had till Friday. I guess I just thought a pair of jeans would materialize out of a big puff of blue smoke or something. Heck fire I could and I was gonna! Yeaw sure I was.
It was two weeks before Daddy brought me a pair of red jeans when he came home from work on Friday night. Oh My Gosh I was in hog heaven, floatin' on a cloud, sittin' on top of a mountain, I mean I couldn't wait till the next Friday.
The next day was Saturday and I got up and put my red jeans on. Mamma told me I better take them off so I wouldn't get them messed up before school the next Friday. I vowed I would not get em' messed up. Shoot I wouldn't even go outside today.
That was one time I learned a very hard lesson in a very hard way. YEP!
I did stay in most of the day but I got bored around noon. I didn't know what to do with myself cooped up in the house trying to not mess up my red jeans. I should have just took them off and hung them up. But heck no, Not Me!
Grandma was sewing something. I picked up her scissors and started messing around with them. I was told to put them down but I was as stubborn as a barnyard mule. I started just opening and closing the blades while holding them on my leg. Mamma said, “Clydene put them scissors down before you cut yourself”. I opened and closed them a couple of times before I put them down, just for good measure ya know. Then was when the hard lesson started. I looked down at the leg of my new red jeans and saw two uneven cuts. Oh My Gosh! I had cut holes in my new red jeans and I was devastated. Mama was livid! “Clydene I told you to take those off this morning before you messed them up. Then I told you to put those scissors down. Now just look what you've done”!
I started bellering like an old bull. “Grandma fix em. You can fix em' cant you?” Mama said, “Yes Clydene your Grandma is gonna fix em. She is gonna put a green patch on em' and your gonna' wear em' like that”. Oh Gosh, Oh My, now what was I gonna do? I couldn't wear red jeans with green patches to school. No, I just wouldn't do that. Nope! When I told Mama I wouldn't wear em with a green patch she said, “Oh yes you will Clydene. You will wear them to school Monday”. I bellered and bawled for the whole time Grandma had the jeans fixin' them but true to her word Mama handed me my red jeans later with the biggest green patch you ever saw right in the middle of the leg. I ran outside and told Daddy on them two by golly. He will help me I thought. Yep I thought. Well he didn't help me after he heard the story.
They gave me a couple of hours to stew on this before Mama handed me the red jeans. The green patch was gone. Grandma had indeed fixed them almost good as new with her small stitches. The tares were hardly visible. Seems Grandma had just basted that green patch over the holes in my jeans. They were ready and OK to wear and I was grateful.
I learned this lesson by doing and I learned it the hard way at the same time. Yep! It took a lot sometimes to penetrate my hard head. My Parents knew that and they were more than up to the challenge. YEP!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
TEARS FOR HAPPY
8-12-09...TEARS FOR HAPPY
I used to go to Nursing homes and Senior citizen centers and sing for Birthdays or just any thing they asked me to do. I worked in Nursing Homes for more than 20 yrs. And wanted to do something for those lonely people.
One day I was singing How Beautiful Heaven must Be and noticed a little lady with tears just running down her face. This upset me badly. I was going to talk to her before I left but never got the chance.
The next time I was there this same little lady raised her hand and asked me to sing How Beautiful Heaven Must Be. I sure didn't want to do it because I was afraid it would upset her again. But she asked and I sang it. I looked at her crying again and it just about undone me. I was crying too.
When my program was over I made a beeline to this lady. She was little and slumped in her wheel chair. Her hair was snow white and styled nice. Her cheeks and lips were very lightly shaded with pink. She had big blue eyes that I expected to be sad. They were not sad they were sparkling and twinkling like a night star. I noticed she couldn't move her arms much and her hands were all gnarled and crooked. In those little hands she clutched on to something. She couldn't really talk very well but she made me understand that she wanted me to look at whatever it was she held in her hands.
I took the object in her hands and it was a card. The card was a funeral announcement like the ones they hand out at funerals. I read it and finally understood it was from her husbands funeral many years before. There on the card was a list of the songs that had been sung. The very first one was 'How Beautiful Heaven Must Be'. I was stunned and I told her how sorry I was but I didn't understand why she asked me to sing it. I told her that I didn't want to hurt her and that song evidently upset her when I sang it. She started shaking her head no and was giving me the sweetest smile through her tears.
I stayed with her for almost an hour and listened carefully to what she was trying to tell me. Seems the song was her husbands favorite and he had requested that she sing it at his funeral. She didn't think she could do it but she had promised him that she would. She did sing the song for him when he died and she was so thankful that she had been able to. She told me that her tears were tears for happy because when I sang the song she felt like she was doing it again for her husband.
I went there many more times and always sang that song and always cried tears for happy with her. One day I went and she wasn't there. I asked about her and she had died just that morning. Her Son was there and asked me if I would record the song and allow them to take it with them where she would be buried in another state. I was honored and happy to do it. I made a cassette right there that day as I sang that song one last time for that sweet little lady. I can't remember her name now. Oh how I wish I could. But I can see her little wrinkled face with the dancing sparkling eyes. And I can see those tears for happy on that face. I can also feel those tears for happy that are blurring my eyes as the tears roll down my cheeks. TEARS FOR HAPPY, GOOD TEARS!!!
I used to go to Nursing homes and Senior citizen centers and sing for Birthdays or just any thing they asked me to do. I worked in Nursing Homes for more than 20 yrs. And wanted to do something for those lonely people.
One day I was singing How Beautiful Heaven must Be and noticed a little lady with tears just running down her face. This upset me badly. I was going to talk to her before I left but never got the chance.
The next time I was there this same little lady raised her hand and asked me to sing How Beautiful Heaven Must Be. I sure didn't want to do it because I was afraid it would upset her again. But she asked and I sang it. I looked at her crying again and it just about undone me. I was crying too.
When my program was over I made a beeline to this lady. She was little and slumped in her wheel chair. Her hair was snow white and styled nice. Her cheeks and lips were very lightly shaded with pink. She had big blue eyes that I expected to be sad. They were not sad they were sparkling and twinkling like a night star. I noticed she couldn't move her arms much and her hands were all gnarled and crooked. In those little hands she clutched on to something. She couldn't really talk very well but she made me understand that she wanted me to look at whatever it was she held in her hands.
I took the object in her hands and it was a card. The card was a funeral announcement like the ones they hand out at funerals. I read it and finally understood it was from her husbands funeral many years before. There on the card was a list of the songs that had been sung. The very first one was 'How Beautiful Heaven Must Be'. I was stunned and I told her how sorry I was but I didn't understand why she asked me to sing it. I told her that I didn't want to hurt her and that song evidently upset her when I sang it. She started shaking her head no and was giving me the sweetest smile through her tears.
I stayed with her for almost an hour and listened carefully to what she was trying to tell me. Seems the song was her husbands favorite and he had requested that she sing it at his funeral. She didn't think she could do it but she had promised him that she would. She did sing the song for him when he died and she was so thankful that she had been able to. She told me that her tears were tears for happy because when I sang the song she felt like she was doing it again for her husband.
I went there many more times and always sang that song and always cried tears for happy with her. One day I went and she wasn't there. I asked about her and she had died just that morning. Her Son was there and asked me if I would record the song and allow them to take it with them where she would be buried in another state. I was honored and happy to do it. I made a cassette right there that day as I sang that song one last time for that sweet little lady. I can't remember her name now. Oh how I wish I could. But I can see her little wrinkled face with the dancing sparkling eyes. And I can see those tears for happy on that face. I can also feel those tears for happy that are blurring my eyes as the tears roll down my cheeks. TEARS FOR HAPPY, GOOD TEARS!!!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
OUR OWN LANGUAGE
8-10-09...OUR OWN LANGUAGE
Daddy used to say “Get shet of that, or you need to get shet of that” meaning get rid or rid yourself of that. He also would say hesh up meaning to shut up right now. I grew up hearing these things the way my Parents and Grandparents said them. In school I learned to say everything the way it should be said, You know all proper like, but at home I reverted back to 'Our Language'. It was sort of like moving to a foreign country and learning the language but when conversing with ones of your nationality it is easier to just talk in your own language. Well there are times now when I go back to my childhood and talk the way we all did then. Sometimes when I do that I am, angry, scared, nervous, or even overwhelmed by things around me and woe to the one who makes fun or tries to correct my speech. Yep!
When I was in the third grade we had moved to Henrietta Oklahoma to be with my Daddy who worked in the coal mines there. My teacher was Miss Ford. I distinctly remember her. She was big, reminded me of a big bull to be exact. She was also very strict. I remember one day I had a cold and my nose was running something awful. I saw a box of Kleenex on Miss Ford's desk so I got up and went up to ask her for one. She handed me a Kleenex before I even asked and I went about my day. At the end of the day Miss Ford told me I had to stay 30 minutes after school because I hadn't raised my hand before approaching her desk. That upset me and upset my Mama worse. She was in our apartment with Norman who was three at the time. She bundled him up and came looking for me. I met her about half way home. The school was 6 blocks from home and it was getting dusky outside.
Mamma and Daddy went to the school the next day. I don't know what happened but it sure seemed to me that Miss Ford picked on me from then on.
One day I had gum in my mouth when I went in from recess and forgot to get rid of it. I knew that old bag would know so I decided to just tell the truth and ask her to let me spit it out in the waste basket. I was so nervous but I did remember to raise my hand and ask if I could come to her desk. She motioned me up there. By the time I reached her desk I was terrified of what she would do. I had been taught to tell the truth and that would be enough and I believed that.
When I started to talk the first thing that happened was the gum fell out of my mouth. I said, “Miss Ford I need to get shet' of this gum”. That was all I was allowed to say. Now my Teachers in Arkansas would have known what I was saying. They would have corrected my language but they would have known I wasn't saying a bad word. Miss Ford thought that I had dropped my gum and said s_ _t. She spanked me right there and took me to the Principals office at recess time. I was really frustrated by then. I hadn't been allowed to say a word in my defense and really didn't even understand what all the fuss was about.
I just blurted out to the principal, “ I axed her if I could get shet of my gum cause I fergot to spit it out and she wouldn't hesh up long nuff fer me ta tell'r what i'se tryin' te say. She hit me on my lag' a bunch of times and brung me here”.
I could see the beginning of a smile on the Principals face. I suspect she had picked up on some of 'our' language in the meeting with my Parents when I'd had to stay after school. I looked at Miss Ford and her ol' fat bull face was redder'n'a bunch'a mashed pokeberries. Now let me tell you she was mad.
The principal was a kind grandmotherly type of lady and she knew I guess that she had to make Miss Ford understand what I had been trying to say. She also knew My Mama and Daddy would be back the next day when they heard my story. She said, “Clydene honey would you wait out in my front office and let me talk to your teacher”? Well of course I was eager to get outta' there so I said, “Yes Mam” and left.
I don't know what was said in that room but Miss Ford came out and took my hand and led me back to the class room. Before school dismissed she handed me a note for my parents and a piece of chocolate candy. I do know Mama and Daddy went to the school the next morning, and I do know Miss Ford almost broke her face trying to smile at me.
It wasn't long till we went home to Arkansas on a Friday night. Mamma, Norman, and I stayed home when Daddy went back to work. I missed my Daddy till he got home every Friday night but I sure did not miss that school or Miss Ford. We did go back to Oklahoma when I was in the fourth grade but the teacher was a nice lady called Miss Nellie and I loved her. I don't remember ever reverting to “Our Language” that year. Nope! My Papa always said “Clydene you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar”. Too bad Miss Ford didn't know that.!!
Daddy used to say “Get shet of that, or you need to get shet of that” meaning get rid or rid yourself of that. He also would say hesh up meaning to shut up right now. I grew up hearing these things the way my Parents and Grandparents said them. In school I learned to say everything the way it should be said, You know all proper like, but at home I reverted back to 'Our Language'. It was sort of like moving to a foreign country and learning the language but when conversing with ones of your nationality it is easier to just talk in your own language. Well there are times now when I go back to my childhood and talk the way we all did then. Sometimes when I do that I am, angry, scared, nervous, or even overwhelmed by things around me and woe to the one who makes fun or tries to correct my speech. Yep!
When I was in the third grade we had moved to Henrietta Oklahoma to be with my Daddy who worked in the coal mines there. My teacher was Miss Ford. I distinctly remember her. She was big, reminded me of a big bull to be exact. She was also very strict. I remember one day I had a cold and my nose was running something awful. I saw a box of Kleenex on Miss Ford's desk so I got up and went up to ask her for one. She handed me a Kleenex before I even asked and I went about my day. At the end of the day Miss Ford told me I had to stay 30 minutes after school because I hadn't raised my hand before approaching her desk. That upset me and upset my Mama worse. She was in our apartment with Norman who was three at the time. She bundled him up and came looking for me. I met her about half way home. The school was 6 blocks from home and it was getting dusky outside.
Mamma and Daddy went to the school the next day. I don't know what happened but it sure seemed to me that Miss Ford picked on me from then on.
One day I had gum in my mouth when I went in from recess and forgot to get rid of it. I knew that old bag would know so I decided to just tell the truth and ask her to let me spit it out in the waste basket. I was so nervous but I did remember to raise my hand and ask if I could come to her desk. She motioned me up there. By the time I reached her desk I was terrified of what she would do. I had been taught to tell the truth and that would be enough and I believed that.
When I started to talk the first thing that happened was the gum fell out of my mouth. I said, “Miss Ford I need to get shet' of this gum”. That was all I was allowed to say. Now my Teachers in Arkansas would have known what I was saying. They would have corrected my language but they would have known I wasn't saying a bad word. Miss Ford thought that I had dropped my gum and said s_ _t. She spanked me right there and took me to the Principals office at recess time. I was really frustrated by then. I hadn't been allowed to say a word in my defense and really didn't even understand what all the fuss was about.
I just blurted out to the principal, “ I axed her if I could get shet of my gum cause I fergot to spit it out and she wouldn't hesh up long nuff fer me ta tell'r what i'se tryin' te say. She hit me on my lag' a bunch of times and brung me here”.
I could see the beginning of a smile on the Principals face. I suspect she had picked up on some of 'our' language in the meeting with my Parents when I'd had to stay after school. I looked at Miss Ford and her ol' fat bull face was redder'n'a bunch'a mashed pokeberries. Now let me tell you she was mad.
The principal was a kind grandmotherly type of lady and she knew I guess that she had to make Miss Ford understand what I had been trying to say. She also knew My Mama and Daddy would be back the next day when they heard my story. She said, “Clydene honey would you wait out in my front office and let me talk to your teacher”? Well of course I was eager to get outta' there so I said, “Yes Mam” and left.
I don't know what was said in that room but Miss Ford came out and took my hand and led me back to the class room. Before school dismissed she handed me a note for my parents and a piece of chocolate candy. I do know Mama and Daddy went to the school the next morning, and I do know Miss Ford almost broke her face trying to smile at me.
It wasn't long till we went home to Arkansas on a Friday night. Mamma, Norman, and I stayed home when Daddy went back to work. I missed my Daddy till he got home every Friday night but I sure did not miss that school or Miss Ford. We did go back to Oklahoma when I was in the fourth grade but the teacher was a nice lady called Miss Nellie and I loved her. I don't remember ever reverting to “Our Language” that year. Nope! My Papa always said “Clydene you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar”. Too bad Miss Ford didn't know that.!!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
AN EMBARRASSING MOMENT
8-9-09...AN EMBARRASSING MOMENT
I was talking to my friend Tommy yesterday and he was talking about something that brought back a very embarrassing time for me.
We were in the fifth grade, ten years old. My Mama had the 'birds and the bees' talk with me and I thought I understood it all but apparently I did not.
The County Fair was going on in Ozark and Tommy (who was in my class) was helping his older brother with a pig and her piglets. They took them to the fair for judging. Tommy was telling the story of the sow and her piglets one day in class.
He was telling how his brother had raised a piglet as a 4/H project. He had then had the pig bred. Well that is where I lost out on the story line.
I was thinking when he said bred the sow he was talking about feeding her bread so she would have babies. Somehow I just knew that was not the way of it. I wasn't real sure about it so I figured I'd just ask before he went on with the story.
"Bread, bread, bread" I was saying, "What do you mean you fed her bread? My Daddy don't feed his pigs bread". I went on and on till others were giggling and pointing at me.
I guess Miss Pansy really didn't know how to handle this situation, or maybe she was in total shock, but she didn't intervene for a while and I just kept on trying to understand why Tommy thought you had to feed pigs bread. Heck fire our pigs ate slop.
Well I don't really know what Miss Pansy finally did because I was looking and talking to Tommy. He had put his head down on his desk and said stupid girl. He was madder'n'a old settin' hen. There was instant quiet in the room and I head Miss Pansy say, "CLYDENE". I looked at her and she was shaking her head at me saying NO! Well I hushed up but I was still very confused. Everyone was jeering at me on the playground and I think Tommy would have liked to knock my block off.
Somehow Miss Pansy got word to my Mama and she explained to me what was meant by 'bred'. I was so embarrassed !! I couldn't look at Tommy for a long time and I don't think he wanted me anywhere near him. I still didn't really understand but I knew I hadn't better do that again.
Somebody else did something and I was off the hook. Everyone forgot my goofiness and someone else took my place. That is the way it goes with kids. I had forgotten all about it until Tommy was talking about the fair and that sow and her piglets. Tommy still don't remember the incident. Good, I'm glad he don't. YEP!!
I was talking to my friend Tommy yesterday and he was talking about something that brought back a very embarrassing time for me.
We were in the fifth grade, ten years old. My Mama had the 'birds and the bees' talk with me and I thought I understood it all but apparently I did not.
The County Fair was going on in Ozark and Tommy (who was in my class) was helping his older brother with a pig and her piglets. They took them to the fair for judging. Tommy was telling the story of the sow and her piglets one day in class.
He was telling how his brother had raised a piglet as a 4/H project. He had then had the pig bred. Well that is where I lost out on the story line.
I was thinking when he said bred the sow he was talking about feeding her bread so she would have babies. Somehow I just knew that was not the way of it. I wasn't real sure about it so I figured I'd just ask before he went on with the story.
"Bread, bread, bread" I was saying, "What do you mean you fed her bread? My Daddy don't feed his pigs bread". I went on and on till others were giggling and pointing at me.
I guess Miss Pansy really didn't know how to handle this situation, or maybe she was in total shock, but she didn't intervene for a while and I just kept on trying to understand why Tommy thought you had to feed pigs bread. Heck fire our pigs ate slop.
Well I don't really know what Miss Pansy finally did because I was looking and talking to Tommy. He had put his head down on his desk and said stupid girl. He was madder'n'a old settin' hen. There was instant quiet in the room and I head Miss Pansy say, "CLYDENE". I looked at her and she was shaking her head at me saying NO! Well I hushed up but I was still very confused. Everyone was jeering at me on the playground and I think Tommy would have liked to knock my block off.
Somehow Miss Pansy got word to my Mama and she explained to me what was meant by 'bred'. I was so embarrassed !! I couldn't look at Tommy for a long time and I don't think he wanted me anywhere near him. I still didn't really understand but I knew I hadn't better do that again.
Somebody else did something and I was off the hook. Everyone forgot my goofiness and someone else took my place. That is the way it goes with kids. I had forgotten all about it until Tommy was talking about the fair and that sow and her piglets. Tommy still don't remember the incident. Good, I'm glad he don't. YEP!!
I HAD A GIGGLE TODAY
8-8-08...I HAD A GIGGLE TODAY
My Goodness I was sitting relaxing this afternoon and these things and events from my childhood started playing in my mind like movies. I got so tickled I was breathless. I was laughing out loud. Don said what is wrong with you. He must have thought I was going nuts. I said Oh I'm just laughing.
Our house was old and the floors were not level. If you dropped a ball it would roll across the floor till it hit something to stop it. I had fun playing with puppies that way.
The funny thing I am remembering though probably was not funny to anyone but me at the time. I always sat across the table from Daddy and he was on the downside of the floor. I was a butterfingers then and now and always spilled something or knocked something over. The thing I usually knocked over was whatever I was drinking. Didn't matter what it was it always ran across the table and ended up in Daddy's lap. Yep! Well it started being funny to me to see Daddy jump up in a hurry when the liquid hit his lap. I didn't like milk so somehow I always managed to spill it. Sure I managed, accidentally on purpose. By Golly Mama figured that one out real fast and I was in big trouble. That stopped if I could help it but occasionally I still spilled something and of course it went straight to Daddy's lap and I got another show. I wondered once why Daddy didn't put me on that side of the table but I think I have that figured out. Just like I am today. I have my spot at the table and I don't change it. Habit I guess or maybe goofiness but I can't eat at the other end of the table. (well I can but I sure nuff 'don't want to) Anyway I think that was Daddies reasoning. Don't you?
Another thing I remembered was this. When Norman was very small he slept in the bed with Mama and I was in Daddies bed in the cold winter so they could see that we stayed warm. One early cold morning I was sleeping peacefully when My Daddy shook the bed getting out of it. He said "Clydene you have wet the bed, get up so we can get dried off, you wet all over me". Mama got up and picked me up and she said, "Clyde Clydene is dry as a bone, she hasn't wet on herself. You were the one who wet the bed". It took some convincing on Mama's part but she finally did convince Daddy that he indeed had been the one to wet the bed. Mama giggled, I giggled, and even Norman, who had no idea what was going on, giggled. It took a few days for Daddy to see the humor in it though but he finally laughed. He never thought it was as funny as I did though.
I had completely forgotten about these things and don't know what made me remember now. I'm glad I did remember though. I needed a giggle today! YEP!
My Goodness I was sitting relaxing this afternoon and these things and events from my childhood started playing in my mind like movies. I got so tickled I was breathless. I was laughing out loud. Don said what is wrong with you. He must have thought I was going nuts. I said Oh I'm just laughing.
Our house was old and the floors were not level. If you dropped a ball it would roll across the floor till it hit something to stop it. I had fun playing with puppies that way.
The funny thing I am remembering though probably was not funny to anyone but me at the time. I always sat across the table from Daddy and he was on the downside of the floor. I was a butterfingers then and now and always spilled something or knocked something over. The thing I usually knocked over was whatever I was drinking. Didn't matter what it was it always ran across the table and ended up in Daddy's lap. Yep! Well it started being funny to me to see Daddy jump up in a hurry when the liquid hit his lap. I didn't like milk so somehow I always managed to spill it. Sure I managed, accidentally on purpose. By Golly Mama figured that one out real fast and I was in big trouble. That stopped if I could help it but occasionally I still spilled something and of course it went straight to Daddy's lap and I got another show. I wondered once why Daddy didn't put me on that side of the table but I think I have that figured out. Just like I am today. I have my spot at the table and I don't change it. Habit I guess or maybe goofiness but I can't eat at the other end of the table. (well I can but I sure nuff 'don't want to) Anyway I think that was Daddies reasoning. Don't you?
Another thing I remembered was this. When Norman was very small he slept in the bed with Mama and I was in Daddies bed in the cold winter so they could see that we stayed warm. One early cold morning I was sleeping peacefully when My Daddy shook the bed getting out of it. He said "Clydene you have wet the bed, get up so we can get dried off, you wet all over me". Mama got up and picked me up and she said, "Clyde Clydene is dry as a bone, she hasn't wet on herself. You were the one who wet the bed". It took some convincing on Mama's part but she finally did convince Daddy that he indeed had been the one to wet the bed. Mama giggled, I giggled, and even Norman, who had no idea what was going on, giggled. It took a few days for Daddy to see the humor in it though but he finally laughed. He never thought it was as funny as I did though.
I had completely forgotten about these things and don't know what made me remember now. I'm glad I did remember though. I needed a giggle today! YEP!
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