5-3-10...I'M STILL HERE
I don't like getting my bubble burst in my face but it does happen. Too often it seems. How come you can go along on your merry way and one word, look, or thought can just blind side you?
One day just a few years back I was riding in the back seat of a car which I very seldom do. In fact I will not do if I can help it because I get nauseous. I was dressed to the nines, my face all made up, my hair fixed with not a hair out of place (which is a rare thing). I happened to look in to the mirror on the windshield of the car. Lordee Mercy sakes alive something is wrong with that mirror. Has to be because I definitely don't have all those wrinkles and all that gray hair. Nope, somebody scratched that mirror. YEP! That's what happened by golly. Now guys I was really convinced the mirror was scratched. Enough so that I asked the driver why in the heck was that mirror all scratched up like that. Yep sure did! Of course she informed me the mirror was perfectly OK not a scratch on it. I asked everyone in the car if they could see the scratches. Nope, nary a one saw them.
I was flabbergasted, upset, and completely disillusioned. I absolutely did not realize all those flaws existed till the bright sunshine shone on my face and I looked in to a perfect mirror. It has taken a little bit of getting used to and it really bothered me for a time.
One day I was getting ready to go somewhere and of course I don't go out without looking the best I can. I stopped and thought, well heck fire I'm being stupid. The same person lives behind all those wrinkles, gray hair, and stooped and hurting body. I'm still me at 65 same as I was at 20. I still have dreams, hopes, and thoughts of going to Ireland, Holland, and France just like I had when I was 25. I still have the same heart beating inside me even though it is slowing me down a bit now. I can still love, laugh, and live same as I did as a teen. I'm still me and all these wrinkles are mostly laugh lines. My body is like an antique, old but more valuable now with all the wisdom from years of learning and doing. Hey World! Look out I'm still here. I still have fire in this ol' furnace. YEP!!!!
Monday, May 3, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
SUMMER JOB
4-29-10...SUMMER JOB
All pops used to be called just Cokes. They came in 6 ounce bottles. A case of 'Cokes' came in a wooden crate sort of thing. You had to pay a deposit on the bottle and when you took it back you got your deposit back. We never had a case of Coke in our house and only one to drink now and again. When we decided we could make a few cents by returning bottles we asked Hall Parks and he gave us an old busted up case to store our bottles in. Brenda and I would walk up and down road picking up the bottles someone had pitched. Not many were pitched in our neighborhood but on the other side of the tracks where people seemed to have more the pickings were pretty good. We worked hard at our 'Job'. No one else was doing this it seemed till we started then you had to be fast to get there before someone else picked them up. One day I skidded in just in front of a big bully who will remain unnamed and the battle was on. In getting in front of him I knocked him down on the gravel and skinned him up a bit. I said I was sorry and I meant that but he wasn't very gracious about it. He was a big bully and a bunch bigger and older than us but he had been told before by my Daddy that he “Would Not” jump on his kids. So He decided he was going to see that we got nary a bottle. Well he should have known better. Brenda and I had bested him before bunches of times.
First we went to Hall Parks store everyday and asked everyone who came in if we could have their bottles. Sometimes they drank them in the store and handed them to us but mostly they promised to save them for us. There were still those who would throw the bottles out the car window but not as many and we got lots of them to. That left Mr Bully coming up on the short end of the stick. My goodness was he mad. He knocked me down on the road one day and said, “Oh I am so sorry. I didn't mean to do that”. Well he did mean to do it and I knew it so I tore in to him. Now I have always known that a bully is all blow and bluff and they back off when you turn on them. This bully had tried pushing us before and it never worked. He was tall so my head reached about 1/3 of the way up his chest and he was big but with Brenda to back me up he backed way off in a hurry. He could have taken hold of the two of us and knocked our heads together but he didn't do that which I am grateful for .
All the rest of that summer Brenda and I had free pickings of all the coke bottles on the roads plus the ones saved for us. We had enough to buy us each a pair of white buck shoes for school when it started and we had enjoyed pop sickles and candy a few times also. We were pretty proud of ourselves when we walked in to the 5th grade class room on the first day of school that year. Yep Proud as could be.
All pops used to be called just Cokes. They came in 6 ounce bottles. A case of 'Cokes' came in a wooden crate sort of thing. You had to pay a deposit on the bottle and when you took it back you got your deposit back. We never had a case of Coke in our house and only one to drink now and again. When we decided we could make a few cents by returning bottles we asked Hall Parks and he gave us an old busted up case to store our bottles in. Brenda and I would walk up and down road picking up the bottles someone had pitched. Not many were pitched in our neighborhood but on the other side of the tracks where people seemed to have more the pickings were pretty good. We worked hard at our 'Job'. No one else was doing this it seemed till we started then you had to be fast to get there before someone else picked them up. One day I skidded in just in front of a big bully who will remain unnamed and the battle was on. In getting in front of him I knocked him down on the gravel and skinned him up a bit. I said I was sorry and I meant that but he wasn't very gracious about it. He was a big bully and a bunch bigger and older than us but he had been told before by my Daddy that he “Would Not” jump on his kids. So He decided he was going to see that we got nary a bottle. Well he should have known better. Brenda and I had bested him before bunches of times.
First we went to Hall Parks store everyday and asked everyone who came in if we could have their bottles. Sometimes they drank them in the store and handed them to us but mostly they promised to save them for us. There were still those who would throw the bottles out the car window but not as many and we got lots of them to. That left Mr Bully coming up on the short end of the stick. My goodness was he mad. He knocked me down on the road one day and said, “Oh I am so sorry. I didn't mean to do that”. Well he did mean to do it and I knew it so I tore in to him. Now I have always known that a bully is all blow and bluff and they back off when you turn on them. This bully had tried pushing us before and it never worked. He was tall so my head reached about 1/3 of the way up his chest and he was big but with Brenda to back me up he backed way off in a hurry. He could have taken hold of the two of us and knocked our heads together but he didn't do that which I am grateful for .
All the rest of that summer Brenda and I had free pickings of all the coke bottles on the roads plus the ones saved for us. We had enough to buy us each a pair of white buck shoes for school when it started and we had enjoyed pop sickles and candy a few times also. We were pretty proud of ourselves when we walked in to the 5th grade class room on the first day of school that year. Yep Proud as could be.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
NOT REALLY MY BEST DAY
4-27-10...NOT REALLY MY BEST DAY
Someone said something to me today that brought this unpleasant memory to me. One of those things that was very unpleasant at the time but years later was funny.
After going through so much unhappiness & hardship I finally was in the room right outside the Courtroom waiting for my case to be called. Finally I would be granted a divorce and I'd be released from hell on earth. Of course when I get nervous and anxious my bladder erupts like a volcano and will not be held back. I thought I would have time to go to the bathroom just outside the room I was in. Mamma went with me and waited at the door to keep all undesirables away from me. I locked the door and very quickly got my business done. When I tried to unlock the door it would not unlock. That knob just turner round and round in my hand. I hollered, “Mamma see if you can open this door”. She tried and told me she couldn't open it that it just turned all the way around. OMG! “Mamma do something I gotta get out of here before they call me”. “Hold on Clydene I'm going to get help”. “No Mamma don't leave me in here, get me out”. I had reverted very quickly back to the Child going to her Mamma for help. I didn't want my Mamma to leave me. I was getting very claustrophobic and very fast. Mamma of course didn't want to leave me but there was no other way. She went in search of a janitor or something and I started bellering and bawling. Oh No, I was thinking ,If I lose my turn what is going to happen. OMG OMG!! Several times someone came to the door and rattled it. “I can't unlock the door”, I'd wail. Now here is where the Phrase started that was to drive me to murderous thoughts. “TURN THE LITTLE KNOB”. Well DUH Don't you think I've tried that. “IT DON”T WORK” I'd yell only to hear it again and again from others. There was a big window which I started pecking on but I was on the top floor so I wasn't getting through to anyone. I even was looking for a way to climb down the side of the building. Who knows, I might of tried that but the window wouldn't open either. Good Grief, didn't anything work in this joint. A darn death trap is what it is. Why I could die in here. My mind was really working overtime.
When I heard Mamma's voice I burst out bawling again. “Mamma, get me out of here. Hurry”. Ok Honey we are going to get you out. Now stop crying”. Boy Oh Boy was I ever backslid in to childhood now.
Mamma told me she had found the janitor and he would have me out in a minute. He walked up there, twisted the knob, and said “It's Locked”. Oh good grief, didn't I already know that? Next he said, “Turn the little knob”. Now that threw me over the top in a hurry. I got hysterical. That man said Turn the little knob again, then said it again. I came unhinged!! “Mamma, get thart stupid man outta here and get someone with some sense to get me out of here. I can't stand this another minute. I could hear Mamma getting panicked. “Move Over”, I'll open this door” She said.
And as I live and breathe she did. She just politely took hold of the knob and opened the door. Just like that, that sucker opened. Yes It Did!!
Mamma said “Lets go Clydene, they just now called your case”. I got to the door and the deputy led me to the courtroom with a little smile on his face. I started to ask him what was so funny but thought better of it. When I got in the Courtroom there were several with those goofy smiles on their face. I was mortified when my Attorney told me that the deputy had announced to the court that I was locked in the bathroom but on my way.
It took me many years to see the humor in this and I still have to look close to see it. Terrible!!!!
Someone said something to me today that brought this unpleasant memory to me. One of those things that was very unpleasant at the time but years later was funny.
After going through so much unhappiness & hardship I finally was in the room right outside the Courtroom waiting for my case to be called. Finally I would be granted a divorce and I'd be released from hell on earth. Of course when I get nervous and anxious my bladder erupts like a volcano and will not be held back. I thought I would have time to go to the bathroom just outside the room I was in. Mamma went with me and waited at the door to keep all undesirables away from me. I locked the door and very quickly got my business done. When I tried to unlock the door it would not unlock. That knob just turner round and round in my hand. I hollered, “Mamma see if you can open this door”. She tried and told me she couldn't open it that it just turned all the way around. OMG! “Mamma do something I gotta get out of here before they call me”. “Hold on Clydene I'm going to get help”. “No Mamma don't leave me in here, get me out”. I had reverted very quickly back to the Child going to her Mamma for help. I didn't want my Mamma to leave me. I was getting very claustrophobic and very fast. Mamma of course didn't want to leave me but there was no other way. She went in search of a janitor or something and I started bellering and bawling. Oh No, I was thinking ,If I lose my turn what is going to happen. OMG OMG!! Several times someone came to the door and rattled it. “I can't unlock the door”, I'd wail. Now here is where the Phrase started that was to drive me to murderous thoughts. “TURN THE LITTLE KNOB”. Well DUH Don't you think I've tried that. “IT DON”T WORK” I'd yell only to hear it again and again from others. There was a big window which I started pecking on but I was on the top floor so I wasn't getting through to anyone. I even was looking for a way to climb down the side of the building. Who knows, I might of tried that but the window wouldn't open either. Good Grief, didn't anything work in this joint. A darn death trap is what it is. Why I could die in here. My mind was really working overtime.
When I heard Mamma's voice I burst out bawling again. “Mamma, get me out of here. Hurry”. Ok Honey we are going to get you out. Now stop crying”. Boy Oh Boy was I ever backslid in to childhood now.
Mamma told me she had found the janitor and he would have me out in a minute. He walked up there, twisted the knob, and said “It's Locked”. Oh good grief, didn't I already know that? Next he said, “Turn the little knob”. Now that threw me over the top in a hurry. I got hysterical. That man said Turn the little knob again, then said it again. I came unhinged!! “Mamma, get thart stupid man outta here and get someone with some sense to get me out of here. I can't stand this another minute. I could hear Mamma getting panicked. “Move Over”, I'll open this door” She said.
And as I live and breathe she did. She just politely took hold of the knob and opened the door. Just like that, that sucker opened. Yes It Did!!
Mamma said “Lets go Clydene, they just now called your case”. I got to the door and the deputy led me to the courtroom with a little smile on his face. I started to ask him what was so funny but thought better of it. When I got in the Courtroom there were several with those goofy smiles on their face. I was mortified when my Attorney told me that the deputy had announced to the court that I was locked in the bathroom but on my way.
It took me many years to see the humor in this and I still have to look close to see it. Terrible!!!!
Monday, April 26, 2010
FOR THE LOVE OF A PIP SQUEAK
4-26-10...FOR THE LOVE OF A PIP SQUEAK
Recalling things takes a lot out of me these days because my memory is not as good as it was. Remembering also puts so much back in to my life that the effort is well worth it. Sitting down and trying to remember a specific thing is impossible almost. It is smells, colors, words, people and so many things that trigger a memory. Sometimes the memory is so fleeting it is gone in a few seconds but sometimes it starts so many things to roll through my mind that is is staggering. I hope my memory is the last thing that goes from me. I'd be lost without all my lovely memories.
Brenda and I made so many memories that they boggle my mind at times. We had such a full life full of twists and turns, in's and outs, and giggles and tears. There are things I'd rather not remember sometimes because those were the times we were on the outs and fighting over some stupid thing.
Once we both decided we liked the same boy. We had google eyes over a boy that will remain unnamed here. He was probably the ugliest thing you ever laid eyes on. His voice was a big whine and he couldn't see a dang thing resulting in a pair of thick glasses that made his eyes look like two big fried eggs that someone had burned. The less likely one in the world that we would both fall madly in love with. I think we were 12 years old so of course it was puppy love but no less hurtful none the less.
We argued and fought like wild cats. Our Daddies thought it was comical but our Mamma's tried to talk us out of it. I said, “Brenda you know he likes me best you are just stubborn”. She'd say “No Clydene he likes me and can't stand you”. It started as just words but before you knew it a full blown cat fight broke out in my bedroom one day. Mamma broke it up and made us apologize to one another and sent Brenda home.
The next day in school we carried the battle on and had to be separated again. The Teachers shamed us and asked how we thought the boy felt about our silliness. I think he liked it fine to tell you the truth but he would never have said so.
We completely stopped talking to one another. One day in school we literally got in a fight over him. I mean literally because he was in the middle. We were both a good head taller and outweighed him several pounds so when we started tussling over him he got the worst of it. In the battle somehow his big glasses got knocked off his face and he started swinging. We both were standing there with our mouths open because we were shocked that he had the nerve to dare to hit us. Of course he couldn't see and all the poor thing could do was swing and try to get rid of the two crazy things that had hold of him. He swung his fist, hit Brenda in the nose, came back with it and hit me smack dab in the eye.
Now he'd done it! We could fight one another but woe to the one who dared to touch either one of us. If the teacher hadn't come on the scene we planned to hurt that little pip squeak. How dare he hurt Brenda, How dare he hurt Clydene!!!
That was the end of that great love affair for both of us by golly. I don't think in all the coming years we ever fell in “LOVE” with the same boy again. Heck no, That was too much trouble and got us in way too many messes! I'm just so relieved and happy that we didn't break the poor boys glasses. Our Parents would have had to pay for them and they certainly couldn't have afforded that.
Brenda and I love one another unconditionally then and now but we fought too and the fights were humdingers!!!!
Recalling things takes a lot out of me these days because my memory is not as good as it was. Remembering also puts so much back in to my life that the effort is well worth it. Sitting down and trying to remember a specific thing is impossible almost. It is smells, colors, words, people and so many things that trigger a memory. Sometimes the memory is so fleeting it is gone in a few seconds but sometimes it starts so many things to roll through my mind that is is staggering. I hope my memory is the last thing that goes from me. I'd be lost without all my lovely memories.
Brenda and I made so many memories that they boggle my mind at times. We had such a full life full of twists and turns, in's and outs, and giggles and tears. There are things I'd rather not remember sometimes because those were the times we were on the outs and fighting over some stupid thing.
Once we both decided we liked the same boy. We had google eyes over a boy that will remain unnamed here. He was probably the ugliest thing you ever laid eyes on. His voice was a big whine and he couldn't see a dang thing resulting in a pair of thick glasses that made his eyes look like two big fried eggs that someone had burned. The less likely one in the world that we would both fall madly in love with. I think we were 12 years old so of course it was puppy love but no less hurtful none the less.
We argued and fought like wild cats. Our Daddies thought it was comical but our Mamma's tried to talk us out of it. I said, “Brenda you know he likes me best you are just stubborn”. She'd say “No Clydene he likes me and can't stand you”. It started as just words but before you knew it a full blown cat fight broke out in my bedroom one day. Mamma broke it up and made us apologize to one another and sent Brenda home.
The next day in school we carried the battle on and had to be separated again. The Teachers shamed us and asked how we thought the boy felt about our silliness. I think he liked it fine to tell you the truth but he would never have said so.
We completely stopped talking to one another. One day in school we literally got in a fight over him. I mean literally because he was in the middle. We were both a good head taller and outweighed him several pounds so when we started tussling over him he got the worst of it. In the battle somehow his big glasses got knocked off his face and he started swinging. We both were standing there with our mouths open because we were shocked that he had the nerve to dare to hit us. Of course he couldn't see and all the poor thing could do was swing and try to get rid of the two crazy things that had hold of him. He swung his fist, hit Brenda in the nose, came back with it and hit me smack dab in the eye.
Now he'd done it! We could fight one another but woe to the one who dared to touch either one of us. If the teacher hadn't come on the scene we planned to hurt that little pip squeak. How dare he hurt Brenda, How dare he hurt Clydene!!!
That was the end of that great love affair for both of us by golly. I don't think in all the coming years we ever fell in “LOVE” with the same boy again. Heck no, That was too much trouble and got us in way too many messes! I'm just so relieved and happy that we didn't break the poor boys glasses. Our Parents would have had to pay for them and they certainly couldn't have afforded that.
Brenda and I love one another unconditionally then and now but we fought too and the fights were humdingers!!!!
Saturday, April 24, 2010
THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT
4-24-10...THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT
I debated with myself about whether I was going to tell this. No, I'll look stupid, and yes What the heck if I do. Well I'm here so heck must have won out.
The storms last night were really bad. I like storms, don't mind them a bit but I'd rather they come in the day so I can see them.
I was startled out of a good sleep about 3:30 AM this morning. It was coming a rip roarin toad strangler of a storm. The wind was blowing really hard and rain was coming down in sheets. Now I would have just gone on back to sleep but I heard a big commotion in the carport. Banging around something awful. Then someone started pounding on the door.
I jumped out of bed in a hurry because I figured someone needed help or was coming to tell me a tornado was coming. Don was snoring like a freight train but I tried hollering at him anyway which was useless..
I stumbled around and found my flashlight, which is always on my nightstand and off I went. I can't run anymore but sometimes I can walk fast so I was walking fast. I saw that the motion light was on and I saw someone standing all slumped over in the door. Oh my goodness someone is hurt I thought. I liked to have never got the door open. The wind was blowing against it and I discovered that whoever was there was leaning on it. “You need to move so I can open the door”, I hollered. I kept pushing and he wouldn't move over. Finally he kind of fell over to the side enough for me to open the door. When it was finally open I smacked head on with that durn sucker and we both fell backward in to the room with him on top. Oh My Gosh!! I was screaming, fighting, and scratching for all I was worth. I had dropped my flashlight and the power was off so I didn't have a light to see. I said, “Well Lord this is it unless you go wake Don up I'm a goner because this sucker has me penned down”. I was crying and slobbering like an old screech owl caught in a trap. Finally I noticed that this thing on me wasn't moving a bit. In fact I reached and put my hand where his face was but there was no face, he had it covered with what felt like a tow sack. Well Crap, He must be passed out or something. I had calmed down a little bit by then and started thinking more clear. Instead of fighting I just moved over as much as I could and tried to scooch my way out from under him. In a few scooches I was free and reached to my side for my big ol' flashlight. I got up on my knees and just flailed the heck outta him. The flashlight came on and I could finally see my attacker.
Now here is the hardest part to tell. TEE HEE I had a area rug rolled up sitting beside the door that I was gonna ask the trash man to pick up. It had fallen over in all the wind and was against the storm door. I pushed on the door and it went back just enough for me to get the door part way open. Oh Good Grief, How stupid!!! I had been fighting with a rug for heaven's sake. Don had laid there snug in his bed snoring all the time so I don't have to tell him. I wasn't intending to tell a soul, nary a person was gonna know. I was embarrassed as all get out last night but today the more I thought about it the madder I got. If it had really been some ax murderer or something Don would not have been a speck of help now would he. I'd almost tell him the story just so I could give him a piece of my mind, WELLL--- Almost but I'm not quiet that stupid yet. NOPE!!!
I debated with myself about whether I was going to tell this. No, I'll look stupid, and yes What the heck if I do. Well I'm here so heck must have won out.
The storms last night were really bad. I like storms, don't mind them a bit but I'd rather they come in the day so I can see them.
I was startled out of a good sleep about 3:30 AM this morning. It was coming a rip roarin toad strangler of a storm. The wind was blowing really hard and rain was coming down in sheets. Now I would have just gone on back to sleep but I heard a big commotion in the carport. Banging around something awful. Then someone started pounding on the door.
I jumped out of bed in a hurry because I figured someone needed help or was coming to tell me a tornado was coming. Don was snoring like a freight train but I tried hollering at him anyway which was useless..
I stumbled around and found my flashlight, which is always on my nightstand and off I went. I can't run anymore but sometimes I can walk fast so I was walking fast. I saw that the motion light was on and I saw someone standing all slumped over in the door. Oh my goodness someone is hurt I thought. I liked to have never got the door open. The wind was blowing against it and I discovered that whoever was there was leaning on it. “You need to move so I can open the door”, I hollered. I kept pushing and he wouldn't move over. Finally he kind of fell over to the side enough for me to open the door. When it was finally open I smacked head on with that durn sucker and we both fell backward in to the room with him on top. Oh My Gosh!! I was screaming, fighting, and scratching for all I was worth. I had dropped my flashlight and the power was off so I didn't have a light to see. I said, “Well Lord this is it unless you go wake Don up I'm a goner because this sucker has me penned down”. I was crying and slobbering like an old screech owl caught in a trap. Finally I noticed that this thing on me wasn't moving a bit. In fact I reached and put my hand where his face was but there was no face, he had it covered with what felt like a tow sack. Well Crap, He must be passed out or something. I had calmed down a little bit by then and started thinking more clear. Instead of fighting I just moved over as much as I could and tried to scooch my way out from under him. In a few scooches I was free and reached to my side for my big ol' flashlight. I got up on my knees and just flailed the heck outta him. The flashlight came on and I could finally see my attacker.
Now here is the hardest part to tell. TEE HEE I had a area rug rolled up sitting beside the door that I was gonna ask the trash man to pick up. It had fallen over in all the wind and was against the storm door. I pushed on the door and it went back just enough for me to get the door part way open. Oh Good Grief, How stupid!!! I had been fighting with a rug for heaven's sake. Don had laid there snug in his bed snoring all the time so I don't have to tell him. I wasn't intending to tell a soul, nary a person was gonna know. I was embarrassed as all get out last night but today the more I thought about it the madder I got. If it had really been some ax murderer or something Don would not have been a speck of help now would he. I'd almost tell him the story just so I could give him a piece of my mind, WELLL--- Almost but I'm not quiet that stupid yet. NOPE!!!
Friday, April 23, 2010
WASHING THE DISHES
4-23-10...I WASHED THE DISHES
When I was too young and little I wanted to wash dishes but when the time came that I could and Mamma made me do it I hated it. One day Mamma was busy doing something else and I was dwaddling over the dishes. I just kept thinking there had to be a better way of doing the job. I raked all the scraps on a plate and took them out to throw to Ol' Tip for his supper. I forgot to bring something to rake it off the plate so I set it down on the ground and went back for a spoon. When I got back Ol' Tip was licking the last of the scraps off the plate. HUH OH, I didn't think that was gonna go over too good with Mamma so I hurried to pick the plate up. Why heck fire that plate was clean as a whistle and shined like a new penny. HMMMM! Why Not? Yep why not indeed. I hurried back in the house with my clean' plate, sit it up in the safe, grabbed two more and here I go. When all the plates were done I started with bowls, etc. All along I was neatly stacking them away. Boy howdy now I'd stumbled on to something here. Yep, this was gonna work out great!
I went to the porch with a big iron skillet and bang, clang, here it went across the concrete. Oops! Better be careful. Don't wanna break any of Mamma's things. Nope. I set the skillet down in front of Ol' Tip and decided I'd just set myself down there too and rest a spell. Shoot fire this washing dishes could run in to work.
I was sitting there just as proud of myself as a speckled pup when Mamma came up behind me. “CLYDENE, What in the world do you think you're doin'?” Just scared the bee juices outta' me. “Good grief Mamma, You scared me to death”! “Never mind Clydene I said what are you doin'” I scrambled up really fast but wasn't watching what I was doing. In my hurry I flipped right off the porch and out on my face in the mess that Ol' Tip had made. Gross! I got up and very politely said, “Mamma the dishes are all done”. Of course Mamma knew in a glance just exactly HOW' I had done the dishes and she sure wasn't about to give me any medals for my work. NOPE!
She marched me back in the kitchen and started taking plates and bowls down. “Mamma look at them, they are clean as a whistle”. Mamma was sure nuff' not impressed. She made me wash every one of them and put them in the rinse water pan. She put a little bit of purex in them to sanitize them. When I got the dishes all put away, The second time, I had learned a good lesson for sure. Could be my stinging butt might help me not forget it either. Good Grief! Whatever possessed me to pull that anyway? I certainly knew better. I was always as stubborn as a barnyard mule and had to learn it all the hard way. YEP!!!
When I was too young and little I wanted to wash dishes but when the time came that I could and Mamma made me do it I hated it. One day Mamma was busy doing something else and I was dwaddling over the dishes. I just kept thinking there had to be a better way of doing the job. I raked all the scraps on a plate and took them out to throw to Ol' Tip for his supper. I forgot to bring something to rake it off the plate so I set it down on the ground and went back for a spoon. When I got back Ol' Tip was licking the last of the scraps off the plate. HUH OH, I didn't think that was gonna go over too good with Mamma so I hurried to pick the plate up. Why heck fire that plate was clean as a whistle and shined like a new penny. HMMMM! Why Not? Yep why not indeed. I hurried back in the house with my clean' plate, sit it up in the safe, grabbed two more and here I go. When all the plates were done I started with bowls, etc. All along I was neatly stacking them away. Boy howdy now I'd stumbled on to something here. Yep, this was gonna work out great!
I went to the porch with a big iron skillet and bang, clang, here it went across the concrete. Oops! Better be careful. Don't wanna break any of Mamma's things. Nope. I set the skillet down in front of Ol' Tip and decided I'd just set myself down there too and rest a spell. Shoot fire this washing dishes could run in to work.
I was sitting there just as proud of myself as a speckled pup when Mamma came up behind me. “CLYDENE, What in the world do you think you're doin'?” Just scared the bee juices outta' me. “Good grief Mamma, You scared me to death”! “Never mind Clydene I said what are you doin'” I scrambled up really fast but wasn't watching what I was doing. In my hurry I flipped right off the porch and out on my face in the mess that Ol' Tip had made. Gross! I got up and very politely said, “Mamma the dishes are all done”. Of course Mamma knew in a glance just exactly HOW' I had done the dishes and she sure wasn't about to give me any medals for my work. NOPE!
She marched me back in the kitchen and started taking plates and bowls down. “Mamma look at them, they are clean as a whistle”. Mamma was sure nuff' not impressed. She made me wash every one of them and put them in the rinse water pan. She put a little bit of purex in them to sanitize them. When I got the dishes all put away, The second time, I had learned a good lesson for sure. Could be my stinging butt might help me not forget it either. Good Grief! Whatever possessed me to pull that anyway? I certainly knew better. I was always as stubborn as a barnyard mule and had to learn it all the hard way. YEP!!!
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
THE MAD GUINEAS
4-21-10...MAD GUINEAS
Did you ever see a bunch of guinea hens congregating? It is quiet a sight. They will all huddle in a sort of circle and chatter. Daddy said it looked like a bunch of old women in their bonnets gossiping. Mamma didn't like that much. She said it could just as well be a bunch of old men.
We had some guinea hens once when I was a kid. They were loud but very useful. They caught bugs by the millions and were as good as any watch dog for alarming you to something or someone who shouldn't be there. They would even attack a snake and they usually won the fight. They roosted in one of our big walnut trees at night and if you heard them start chattering you knew something was amiss.
A cousin of ours that came to visit sometimes didn't like our guineas and though they were of a gentle nature around us they flat didn't like Curtis. I'd never seen them attack anyone else so we were never sure why they got him.
One day we were in the front yard playing and Curtis came walking up. He figured he was gonna scare the stuffins out of us. He snuk up behind us and grabbed Norman and put him on his shoulder. Well that is what he intended to do but it didn't quiet work out that way. When he grabbed Norman we all started screaming and here came those guinea hens chattering up a storm. It was a mad chatter. You could tell the difference. They didn't need to get in their huddle and talk it over for this one. Heck no. They attacked! I mean they climbed Curtis. Covered his body. There he stood too stunned to do anything but splutter and look wild. He finally started swatting and fighting which just made the old hens madder than hornets. We thought it was the funniest thing we ever saw and we were giggling. I heard Curtis say, “Get these d----d b-----s off me it aint funny”. Well I was mortified by his language and I was rushing to tell on him for talking that way. Didn't have too though because Daddy, Mamma, and Grandma were standing on the porch. They too were laughing hysterically. Daddy did finally get the guineas off Curtis but they were right on his tail as he ran to get in the house. Mamma was saying “Now y'all this aint giggle giggle a bit funny. Giggle giggle, He could have been giggle giggle hurt bad.”! Grandma was busy examining Curtis and she too was giggling with each breath. Daddy was just flat slapping his knees he was giggling so hard. Don't think he was able to say anything in between. What he did say when everything died down to a soft rumble was, “I told you they were a bunch of old gossiping women”. I don't remember if Curtis got in trouble for his language or not. Years later I brought the incident up to him and had to tell on him again for his bad language. TEE HEE Don't mess with a bunch of old hens, human or fowl! NOPE!!
Did you ever see a bunch of guinea hens congregating? It is quiet a sight. They will all huddle in a sort of circle and chatter. Daddy said it looked like a bunch of old women in their bonnets gossiping. Mamma didn't like that much. She said it could just as well be a bunch of old men.
We had some guinea hens once when I was a kid. They were loud but very useful. They caught bugs by the millions and were as good as any watch dog for alarming you to something or someone who shouldn't be there. They would even attack a snake and they usually won the fight. They roosted in one of our big walnut trees at night and if you heard them start chattering you knew something was amiss.
A cousin of ours that came to visit sometimes didn't like our guineas and though they were of a gentle nature around us they flat didn't like Curtis. I'd never seen them attack anyone else so we were never sure why they got him.
One day we were in the front yard playing and Curtis came walking up. He figured he was gonna scare the stuffins out of us. He snuk up behind us and grabbed Norman and put him on his shoulder. Well that is what he intended to do but it didn't quiet work out that way. When he grabbed Norman we all started screaming and here came those guinea hens chattering up a storm. It was a mad chatter. You could tell the difference. They didn't need to get in their huddle and talk it over for this one. Heck no. They attacked! I mean they climbed Curtis. Covered his body. There he stood too stunned to do anything but splutter and look wild. He finally started swatting and fighting which just made the old hens madder than hornets. We thought it was the funniest thing we ever saw and we were giggling. I heard Curtis say, “Get these d----d b-----s off me it aint funny”. Well I was mortified by his language and I was rushing to tell on him for talking that way. Didn't have too though because Daddy, Mamma, and Grandma were standing on the porch. They too were laughing hysterically. Daddy did finally get the guineas off Curtis but they were right on his tail as he ran to get in the house. Mamma was saying “Now y'all this aint giggle giggle a bit funny. Giggle giggle, He could have been giggle giggle hurt bad.”! Grandma was busy examining Curtis and she too was giggling with each breath. Daddy was just flat slapping his knees he was giggling so hard. Don't think he was able to say anything in between. What he did say when everything died down to a soft rumble was, “I told you they were a bunch of old gossiping women”. I don't remember if Curtis got in trouble for his language or not. Years later I brought the incident up to him and had to tell on him again for his bad language. TEE HEE Don't mess with a bunch of old hens, human or fowl! NOPE!!
Monday, April 19, 2010
TRAINS AND THINGS
4-19-10...GOING HOME ON A TRAIN
I heard a train whistle this morning, a wailing mournful sound way somewhere in the distance. There is not a RR track within 20 miles of me so I don't know if the sound was carrying a long distance or whether it was wishful thinking.
When I heard it I was instantly transported back to my childhood and that old house we lived in down by the tracks. We definitely heard them then, loud and clear, mostly loud. That sound this morning coming to me across the early morning air was pure music to my ears.
I can just vaguely remember Daddy calling me and Mamma out to the back porch one morning just like this morning. He said “Just listen Clydene. That is a steam engine and this is one of the last ones you will ever hear”. “Why Daddy?” “Honey they say they have a train that will be better than this one. This train will go faster. Darn fools are gonna get somebody killed is what they are gonna do, next thing you know they are gonna say we can fly through the air like them crazy men”. Daddy was talking about the Wright Bros. And they had flown but I guess we didn't know that.
The old steam engines would come hissing and chugging down the tracks in a halo of steam and smoke and it stunk to high heaven. The whistle on it was a low moaning sound as I remember it. I don't remember a lot about it but I'll never forget my Daddy calling us out to see it.
Trains got fancier after that. And today they are fancier still. Used to we could be out in the yard when one came roaring through, we would raise our arms up and the conductor would blow his whistle. Just one short spurt so it wouldn't confuse people on the crossing just a way up. Then we'd wait till the Red Caboose got there and the Guy in it would throw out newspapers from all over for us to read. We kids didn't care about the newspapers but there would always be something wrapped up in them for us. Maybe suckers or gum. Now you would be afraid to eat anything like that for fear you would be poisoned or worse. One day the train had to stop for some reason and the Caboose was right in front of our house. That man came out on the end of the car and talked to us. Wow! Were we ever excited about that. All our friends were envious of us when we told them that story and boy howdy were we struttin' high.
Lots of things take me back home to my childhood but no time has been more needed than the trip I took down memory lane on a train this morning just as it started getting light outside. Made me feel all new again. Like I could just run up the road barefooted with the wind in my face, all fresh and happy. Not a care in the world. Nothing more healing in this world than going HOME!!! YEP!
I heard a train whistle this morning, a wailing mournful sound way somewhere in the distance. There is not a RR track within 20 miles of me so I don't know if the sound was carrying a long distance or whether it was wishful thinking.
When I heard it I was instantly transported back to my childhood and that old house we lived in down by the tracks. We definitely heard them then, loud and clear, mostly loud. That sound this morning coming to me across the early morning air was pure music to my ears.
I can just vaguely remember Daddy calling me and Mamma out to the back porch one morning just like this morning. He said “Just listen Clydene. That is a steam engine and this is one of the last ones you will ever hear”. “Why Daddy?” “Honey they say they have a train that will be better than this one. This train will go faster. Darn fools are gonna get somebody killed is what they are gonna do, next thing you know they are gonna say we can fly through the air like them crazy men”. Daddy was talking about the Wright Bros. And they had flown but I guess we didn't know that.
The old steam engines would come hissing and chugging down the tracks in a halo of steam and smoke and it stunk to high heaven. The whistle on it was a low moaning sound as I remember it. I don't remember a lot about it but I'll never forget my Daddy calling us out to see it.
Trains got fancier after that. And today they are fancier still. Used to we could be out in the yard when one came roaring through, we would raise our arms up and the conductor would blow his whistle. Just one short spurt so it wouldn't confuse people on the crossing just a way up. Then we'd wait till the Red Caboose got there and the Guy in it would throw out newspapers from all over for us to read. We kids didn't care about the newspapers but there would always be something wrapped up in them for us. Maybe suckers or gum. Now you would be afraid to eat anything like that for fear you would be poisoned or worse. One day the train had to stop for some reason and the Caboose was right in front of our house. That man came out on the end of the car and talked to us. Wow! Were we ever excited about that. All our friends were envious of us when we told them that story and boy howdy were we struttin' high.
Lots of things take me back home to my childhood but no time has been more needed than the trip I took down memory lane on a train this morning just as it started getting light outside. Made me feel all new again. Like I could just run up the road barefooted with the wind in my face, all fresh and happy. Not a care in the world. Nothing more healing in this world than going HOME!!! YEP!
Monday, April 5, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
RELATIVES
4-1-10...RELATIVES?!
The Barcliffs lived on in an old house on the side of the road. It was up high off the road and at the side of the house in the yard was a bluff. If you were to fall off that bluff you would be in the Arkansas river. The house was built like a lot of the old houses were built then. It was log and there was a breezway down the middle open at each end. Daddy said John Barcliff had enough money to dry up the river and that it was supposed to be buried in fruit jars all over the property. John was skinny, humpbacked, and tall. He had one of those Santa Claus beards and wore a big hat with the front bent down to shade his eyes. Daddy said it was probably so no one could really see his face or look in to his eyes. He was a strange old man and I was scared to death of him. His wife Sally was my Grandma's first cousin and the sweetest person you ever saw. John was the crabbiest person you ever saw. They had eight kids who were married and not living at home, and A Daughter, never married who lived with them. She seemed odd. Sweet like her Mother but reclusive like her Dad. John lived on the right side of the breezeway and His wife Sally lived on the left side. He only crossed the way to eat his meals and Sally was not allowed to cross to his side. Sally and John both dipped snuff and smoked pipes. I never saw Sally smoke a pipe but knew that she did.
Mamma Daddy, Me, Norman, and My Grandma went one day to visit Sally. Her side of the house was neat and clean. I was very curious to see John and my being scared of him didn't stop me from wanting to snoop around, especially since I had heard about jars of money buried around the yard. I asked if I could go outside for a while and was allowed to only go on the porch where Mamma could see me through a window. Well being on the porch invited me to walk down that breezway which I decided to do. I also decided to peek in to a window on John's side of the house. Good grief! How very rude of me. I know that now but was a kid then. I crept up to the window and put my hands on either side of my face. I put my face right up against the window for a good view. It all only took a second or two because when Mamma couldn't see me any more she came looking. But that second was enough to cure me of my noseyness by golly. When my nose touched the window I was looking straight in to the eyes of John Barcliff!!! Oh My Goodness I was moving fast to get out of there and ran right in to my Mamma. I thought for sure John had me so I started kicking shins. My Mamma's shins to be exact. Oh Lordee me My Gosh, Good Grief!!! I got a spanking right there and heard John snickering which made my Daddy (who had come out) mad as an old hornet. I never wanted to go back there again and Thank God I never had to. I think John was harmless but he didn't want anyone to know that.
The local newspaper went out to interview John and Sally once. John dressed up slicker than a whistle for pictures. Even went in and sat by Sally and shaved for a picture. I don't really think that was what the paper wanted and I imagine they were not pleased with their "BIG STORY". The wanted to see the real John. John talked about his house which his Dad had built in 1839 and had been a stage coach stand. Everyone knew that John was a shrewd man and not the person he tried to portray at all. I guess He knew everyone knew but he seemed to love his "Strange" persona. John died of pneumonia in a Veterans Hospital. Sally died in a Nursing Home and so did the Daughter at home with them The cabin was there until the family sold it and it was torn down which I thought was a shame. I lived in another state when it was destroyed but you can still see where it stood for all those years. Should have been a Historical place and been protected to my way of thinking. But then what I think don't amount to a hill of beans since it wasn't mine. OH WELL!!! I suspect that if there were jars of money there the kids found it before they sold the place. YEP!!!
The Barcliffs lived on in an old house on the side of the road. It was up high off the road and at the side of the house in the yard was a bluff. If you were to fall off that bluff you would be in the Arkansas river. The house was built like a lot of the old houses were built then. It was log and there was a breezway down the middle open at each end. Daddy said John Barcliff had enough money to dry up the river and that it was supposed to be buried in fruit jars all over the property. John was skinny, humpbacked, and tall. He had one of those Santa Claus beards and wore a big hat with the front bent down to shade his eyes. Daddy said it was probably so no one could really see his face or look in to his eyes. He was a strange old man and I was scared to death of him. His wife Sally was my Grandma's first cousin and the sweetest person you ever saw. John was the crabbiest person you ever saw. They had eight kids who were married and not living at home, and A Daughter, never married who lived with them. She seemed odd. Sweet like her Mother but reclusive like her Dad. John lived on the right side of the breezeway and His wife Sally lived on the left side. He only crossed the way to eat his meals and Sally was not allowed to cross to his side. Sally and John both dipped snuff and smoked pipes. I never saw Sally smoke a pipe but knew that she did.
Mamma Daddy, Me, Norman, and My Grandma went one day to visit Sally. Her side of the house was neat and clean. I was very curious to see John and my being scared of him didn't stop me from wanting to snoop around, especially since I had heard about jars of money buried around the yard. I asked if I could go outside for a while and was allowed to only go on the porch where Mamma could see me through a window. Well being on the porch invited me to walk down that breezway which I decided to do. I also decided to peek in to a window on John's side of the house. Good grief! How very rude of me. I know that now but was a kid then. I crept up to the window and put my hands on either side of my face. I put my face right up against the window for a good view. It all only took a second or two because when Mamma couldn't see me any more she came looking. But that second was enough to cure me of my noseyness by golly. When my nose touched the window I was looking straight in to the eyes of John Barcliff!!! Oh My Goodness I was moving fast to get out of there and ran right in to my Mamma. I thought for sure John had me so I started kicking shins. My Mamma's shins to be exact. Oh Lordee me My Gosh, Good Grief!!! I got a spanking right there and heard John snickering which made my Daddy (who had come out) mad as an old hornet. I never wanted to go back there again and Thank God I never had to. I think John was harmless but he didn't want anyone to know that.
The local newspaper went out to interview John and Sally once. John dressed up slicker than a whistle for pictures. Even went in and sat by Sally and shaved for a picture. I don't really think that was what the paper wanted and I imagine they were not pleased with their "BIG STORY". The wanted to see the real John. John talked about his house which his Dad had built in 1839 and had been a stage coach stand. Everyone knew that John was a shrewd man and not the person he tried to portray at all. I guess He knew everyone knew but he seemed to love his "Strange" persona. John died of pneumonia in a Veterans Hospital. Sally died in a Nursing Home and so did the Daughter at home with them The cabin was there until the family sold it and it was torn down which I thought was a shame. I lived in another state when it was destroyed but you can still see where it stood for all those years. Should have been a Historical place and been protected to my way of thinking. But then what I think don't amount to a hill of beans since it wasn't mine. OH WELL!!! I suspect that if there were jars of money there the kids found it before they sold the place. YEP!!!
Monday, March 29, 2010
NEVER GIVE UP
3-29-10...DON'T EVER GIVE UP
There was a time in my life when I gave up on life. Nothing seemed to matter to me at all. I was broken down by cruelty, circumstances, heartbreak, and abuse. I was working every day and not sleeping or resting. I literally went on like that for six long months. I did not sleep a wink. I was running on empty, no hope for anything. Like a zombie I floated through day after day, night after night, hour after hour, and minute after minute. I know I held down a full time job but I have no idea or any recollection how. I lived on coffee and cigarettes. People I worked with tried to help me but didn't know how. I was a long way from Family or anyone who loved me. I might as well have been locked up in prison because I had no control over my destiny. I was told what to do, what to say, what to wear, how to act and I did it like a puppet with tight strings.
I don't remember a whole lot about that time in my life except that I must have had a will to survive. Somewhere way down deep in my soul the real Clydene was still there fighting to get out. I had turned off everything in my mind except what I was told was supposed to be there.
Someone told me one day that I could be knocked down with a feather. I tried to eat that day at lunch but it came back up. My stomach couldn't take it after six months of nothing.
Seldom was I ever allowed to drive myself anywhere. I was not allowed to talk on the phone or answer it when it rang. I was never left alone. I have no idea why but one day I had driven myself to work. It was cold and snowing. A big truck was passing me on the Interstate. I looked over at the big wheels rolling and I thought, “I can swerve my wheels and I will go in to those wheels and I can rest.” So I turned my steering wheel to go in to the truck and I hit some ice. It spun me the other way and off in the median. That slick spot saved my life. Coincidence? Luck? Of course it wasn't. It was a Higher Power that put my car in that slick snow. Think what you will but I know what happened. I was snapped out of my stupor and from that day on I started caring and I started fighting for my life. It wasn't easy and it didn't happen over night but I fought my way back to life as I had known it.
Times have not all been peachy or rosy since but I have not ever got down that low since and I never will. I still have a lot to do before I can quit. YEP!
There was a time in my life when I gave up on life. Nothing seemed to matter to me at all. I was broken down by cruelty, circumstances, heartbreak, and abuse. I was working every day and not sleeping or resting. I literally went on like that for six long months. I did not sleep a wink. I was running on empty, no hope for anything. Like a zombie I floated through day after day, night after night, hour after hour, and minute after minute. I know I held down a full time job but I have no idea or any recollection how. I lived on coffee and cigarettes. People I worked with tried to help me but didn't know how. I was a long way from Family or anyone who loved me. I might as well have been locked up in prison because I had no control over my destiny. I was told what to do, what to say, what to wear, how to act and I did it like a puppet with tight strings.
I don't remember a whole lot about that time in my life except that I must have had a will to survive. Somewhere way down deep in my soul the real Clydene was still there fighting to get out. I had turned off everything in my mind except what I was told was supposed to be there.
Someone told me one day that I could be knocked down with a feather. I tried to eat that day at lunch but it came back up. My stomach couldn't take it after six months of nothing.
Seldom was I ever allowed to drive myself anywhere. I was not allowed to talk on the phone or answer it when it rang. I was never left alone. I have no idea why but one day I had driven myself to work. It was cold and snowing. A big truck was passing me on the Interstate. I looked over at the big wheels rolling and I thought, “I can swerve my wheels and I will go in to those wheels and I can rest.” So I turned my steering wheel to go in to the truck and I hit some ice. It spun me the other way and off in the median. That slick spot saved my life. Coincidence? Luck? Of course it wasn't. It was a Higher Power that put my car in that slick snow. Think what you will but I know what happened. I was snapped out of my stupor and from that day on I started caring and I started fighting for my life. It wasn't easy and it didn't happen over night but I fought my way back to life as I had known it.
Times have not all been peachy or rosy since but I have not ever got down that low since and I never will. I still have a lot to do before I can quit. YEP!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Peter Cottontail
3-28-10...EASTER MEMORIES
Someone sent me something yesterday that was playing “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” and boy was I transferred back in time to those wonderful Easter Sunday's. Not so much about the song but the memories is brought with it.
We always had Sunrise services at our little Church rain or shine. It was usually always cold. Then we would come home to Mamma's Fried Chicken dinner and all the trimmings. Only on Easter Sunday we also had colored eggs on the table. The night before Mamma and Daddy helped us color the eggs which was quiet a production and always a family project. We didn't hide eggs we just colored them. We were not taught that there was an Easter Bunny. Heck we were farm kids. We knew very well where the eggs came from.
My up-town cousins got those beautiful Easter Baskets and were told the Easter Bunny left them. Mamma told us not to try and tell them the difference because that was the way they celebrated Easter.
I always yearned for one of those beautiful baskets of goodies that my Parents couldn't afford. I only asked once and from then on I accepted the fact that we couldn't get one.
One Easter My Daddy had been in Oklahoma working in the coal mines all week and when he came home that Friday night he decided that his kids were gonna have an Easter Basket while they were still young enough to enjoy it. He bought me a red one and Norman a green one and hauled it all the way back to Arkansas that Friday night.
Mamma always let us sit up till Daddy got home on Friday night if we could manage to stay awake. I always did but Norman being only four usually couldn't.
We would run out that screen door and let it slam back just about the time we heard Mamma yell, “Don't slam the door” and off we'd run to meet Daddy. We would usually pounce on him and he'd pick us both up and hug us close all the way down in to the house. This night Daddy got out of the car and reached in the back seat and brought out those wonderful baskets. Daddy wasn't a big man but he handed us our baskets and picked us both up basket and all.
Oh My Goodness when we got in the house we both just sat them down on the floor and stared at them in awe. They were big and just chock full of goodies. Right in the middle was a huge stuffed animal. Mine was a purple bear, and Norman's was a blue bear. The beautiful colored cellophane paper wrapped around them was bright and colorful. That was the most magnificent thing I had yet to see in my short life and when we took our bears out and mashed their bellies they sang, “Here comes Peter Cottontail hopping Down the Bunny Trail. Hippity hop and Easters on it's way”. Oh my the tears are running down to my chin and I have big goose bumps right now just remembering that. Now everytime I hear that cute little song I get all gushy and the Memories come flooding back. Memories like that are wonderful aren't they?
Click here in case you would like to hear Peter Cottontail again.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5W7SUhojrA
Someone sent me something yesterday that was playing “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” and boy was I transferred back in time to those wonderful Easter Sunday's. Not so much about the song but the memories is brought with it.
We always had Sunrise services at our little Church rain or shine. It was usually always cold. Then we would come home to Mamma's Fried Chicken dinner and all the trimmings. Only on Easter Sunday we also had colored eggs on the table. The night before Mamma and Daddy helped us color the eggs which was quiet a production and always a family project. We didn't hide eggs we just colored them. We were not taught that there was an Easter Bunny. Heck we were farm kids. We knew very well where the eggs came from.
My up-town cousins got those beautiful Easter Baskets and were told the Easter Bunny left them. Mamma told us not to try and tell them the difference because that was the way they celebrated Easter.
I always yearned for one of those beautiful baskets of goodies that my Parents couldn't afford. I only asked once and from then on I accepted the fact that we couldn't get one.
One Easter My Daddy had been in Oklahoma working in the coal mines all week and when he came home that Friday night he decided that his kids were gonna have an Easter Basket while they were still young enough to enjoy it. He bought me a red one and Norman a green one and hauled it all the way back to Arkansas that Friday night.
Mamma always let us sit up till Daddy got home on Friday night if we could manage to stay awake. I always did but Norman being only four usually couldn't.
We would run out that screen door and let it slam back just about the time we heard Mamma yell, “Don't slam the door” and off we'd run to meet Daddy. We would usually pounce on him and he'd pick us both up and hug us close all the way down in to the house. This night Daddy got out of the car and reached in the back seat and brought out those wonderful baskets. Daddy wasn't a big man but he handed us our baskets and picked us both up basket and all.
Oh My Goodness when we got in the house we both just sat them down on the floor and stared at them in awe. They were big and just chock full of goodies. Right in the middle was a huge stuffed animal. Mine was a purple bear, and Norman's was a blue bear. The beautiful colored cellophane paper wrapped around them was bright and colorful. That was the most magnificent thing I had yet to see in my short life and when we took our bears out and mashed their bellies they sang, “Here comes Peter Cottontail hopping Down the Bunny Trail. Hippity hop and Easters on it's way”. Oh my the tears are running down to my chin and I have big goose bumps right now just remembering that. Now everytime I hear that cute little song I get all gushy and the Memories come flooding back. Memories like that are wonderful aren't they?
Click here in case you would like to hear Peter Cottontail again.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5W7SUhojrA
Saturday, March 27, 2010
GRANDMA'S BUTTON JAR
3-27-10...GRANDMA'S BUTTON JAR
Grandma had a button jar' sitting on her dresser. Every button she could find went in that jar. Any garment that was discarded she cut all the buttons of first and added to her jar. Some of the buttons were very old. There were glass buttons, wooden buttons, pearl buttons, shiny buttons, many color buttons, and just plain white shirt buttons. They made a beautiful display on her dresser and they were important to Grandma. Sometimes she would spruce up one of our garments with a change of buttons and some new ribbon or something. Almost like having a new garment. To Grandma these buttons were as good as money sometimes. Seeing that we had no money that makes sense. She took scraps and parts of dresses or shirts and whipped up some really pretty dresses for me. I always got to pick my buttons and boy was that a great production for me. So much fun!! When I picked out one then we had to pour the buttons out on a towel and see if we could find matching ones to have enough. If not I picked again and etc. till I had my buttons. I loved 'pickin out buttons' because I got to run my hands all through the usually smooth buttons.
I was not supposed to open the jar without Grandma there to help me but it was sooo pretty sitting there that I couldn't resist picking it up and shaking it or turning it upside down and rolling it like a kaleidoscope. Well of course one day I went too far with my rolling the jar around. The lid flew off,- at least that was what I wanted everyone to believe. Actually I had been taking the lid off and it was loose so of course it flew off! Oh My Gosh, buttons flew everywhere, under, over, around and everything in between. Now what to do. I knew I was in trouble if I didn't get those darn buttons all picked up and I thought I had till Grandma got up in her room that night and stepped on one of them. She didn't say a word till the next morning and she showed me her foot with a red spot on it. I fessed up. I got a scolding but that was all. I found out later that Grandma thought she had probably dropped the button herself. She was so proud of me for telling her the truth that she didn't have the desire to punish me more severely. I was learning I guess because there had been incidents in the past where I held my confession just as long as I could and got in to lots of trouble.
I was taught to always tell the truth, but I wouldn't have had to that time. I'm glad I did though. Even at that young age telling the truth no matter the consequences made me feel good.
Grandma had a button jar' sitting on her dresser. Every button she could find went in that jar. Any garment that was discarded she cut all the buttons of first and added to her jar. Some of the buttons were very old. There were glass buttons, wooden buttons, pearl buttons, shiny buttons, many color buttons, and just plain white shirt buttons. They made a beautiful display on her dresser and they were important to Grandma. Sometimes she would spruce up one of our garments with a change of buttons and some new ribbon or something. Almost like having a new garment. To Grandma these buttons were as good as money sometimes. Seeing that we had no money that makes sense. She took scraps and parts of dresses or shirts and whipped up some really pretty dresses for me. I always got to pick my buttons and boy was that a great production for me. So much fun!! When I picked out one then we had to pour the buttons out on a towel and see if we could find matching ones to have enough. If not I picked again and etc. till I had my buttons. I loved 'pickin out buttons' because I got to run my hands all through the usually smooth buttons.
I was not supposed to open the jar without Grandma there to help me but it was sooo pretty sitting there that I couldn't resist picking it up and shaking it or turning it upside down and rolling it like a kaleidoscope. Well of course one day I went too far with my rolling the jar around. The lid flew off,- at least that was what I wanted everyone to believe. Actually I had been taking the lid off and it was loose so of course it flew off! Oh My Gosh, buttons flew everywhere, under, over, around and everything in between. Now what to do. I knew I was in trouble if I didn't get those darn buttons all picked up and I thought I had till Grandma got up in her room that night and stepped on one of them. She didn't say a word till the next morning and she showed me her foot with a red spot on it. I fessed up. I got a scolding but that was all. I found out later that Grandma thought she had probably dropped the button herself. She was so proud of me for telling her the truth that she didn't have the desire to punish me more severely. I was learning I guess because there had been incidents in the past where I held my confession just as long as I could and got in to lots of trouble.
I was taught to always tell the truth, but I wouldn't have had to that time. I'm glad I did though. Even at that young age telling the truth no matter the consequences made me feel good.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
THE OL' LILAC BUSH
3-25-10...THE OL' LILAC BUSH!
The wind is blowing 90 to nothin' out there and rain is pouring. Another burst old ol' man winter trying to push his way back in. Spring might be delicate right now but I've noticed it always wins this time of year. There is the bright yellow of the Golden Rod, and the vivid red of the fire bush. Right in the middle are the beautiful Daffodils with their heads standing high. Yesterday I noticed my Little Lilac bush was all budded out. They are supposed to bloom after five years. It has been there seven years and has yet to bloom. I looked closer and that little bush is just covered with the little purple shoots that will soon be a big fragrant flower. My very first lilac blooms. Oh I've had other Lilac bushes but this one is special to me and I had just about given up on it. I am so excited by this that I can't contain myself till the blooms grow and burst forth. My favorite flower in the world.
Now the whole reason I hadn't given up and dug the little puny thing up is where I got it.
Mamma grew up on the side of the hill above where she finally moved with Daddy after marriage and she told me so many stories about a big lilac bush that was in the woods near her house. She had escaped there many times to avoid two younger sisters who looked to her for more than she should have been expected to do. You know that older child thing where you are supposed to let the younger sibling tag along. Mamma said she would go to the lilac bush and crawl underneath and fantasize about so many things that she would never have. That Lilac bush was more like a tree from pictures I have seen. Must have been magnificent in full bloom.
The place had grown in to just a thicket over the years and Mamma hadn't thought much about it. One day she and her two sisters had tried to get to where the bush had been but was unable. Mamma talked about how she would love to get a sprout from it. I grew up and was away from home for 20 plus years and never thought about that bush until Mamma talked about it again after she got so sick. I came home to stay in 1999 and Mamma was very ill. I decided I had to get her a sprout of that lilac bush somehow.
I went there every time I could through one whole year trying to find a way in to where I thought it would be. Sometimes that spring I could smell the lilacs. I love the smell. I finally hacked my way to it one early fall morning. Of course it was not a big magnificent thing anymore. Really just a bunch of sprouts around a dilapidated bush. I couldn't tell my Mamma that so I dug two sprouts and brought them home with me. I planted both in Mamma's yard. One died but the other one was thriving. Mamma got worse and had to go to a Nursing Home when we were no longer to give her quality care at home. We had to sell the house for financial reasons but I dug the Lilac bush up and brought it here. That spring I went back up on that hill and picked a few scrubby lilacs to put in Mamma's room. She was so thrilled and would reach over and gently run her hand over them. I held them close for her to smell. It made her happy to have a lilac from the Ol' Bush.
Mamma died that very November. I have coddled my bush ever since and just couldn't make myself give up. Now seven years later I will finally have some blooms if this old cold weather will cease.
I have been feeling my Mamma's presence so strongly lately all around me. Well Mamma your ol' bush is gonna bloom again for you. I'll bring you a bouquet'!!!
The wind is blowing 90 to nothin' out there and rain is pouring. Another burst old ol' man winter trying to push his way back in. Spring might be delicate right now but I've noticed it always wins this time of year. There is the bright yellow of the Golden Rod, and the vivid red of the fire bush. Right in the middle are the beautiful Daffodils with their heads standing high. Yesterday I noticed my Little Lilac bush was all budded out. They are supposed to bloom after five years. It has been there seven years and has yet to bloom. I looked closer and that little bush is just covered with the little purple shoots that will soon be a big fragrant flower. My very first lilac blooms. Oh I've had other Lilac bushes but this one is special to me and I had just about given up on it. I am so excited by this that I can't contain myself till the blooms grow and burst forth. My favorite flower in the world.
Now the whole reason I hadn't given up and dug the little puny thing up is where I got it.
Mamma grew up on the side of the hill above where she finally moved with Daddy after marriage and she told me so many stories about a big lilac bush that was in the woods near her house. She had escaped there many times to avoid two younger sisters who looked to her for more than she should have been expected to do. You know that older child thing where you are supposed to let the younger sibling tag along. Mamma said she would go to the lilac bush and crawl underneath and fantasize about so many things that she would never have. That Lilac bush was more like a tree from pictures I have seen. Must have been magnificent in full bloom.
The place had grown in to just a thicket over the years and Mamma hadn't thought much about it. One day she and her two sisters had tried to get to where the bush had been but was unable. Mamma talked about how she would love to get a sprout from it. I grew up and was away from home for 20 plus years and never thought about that bush until Mamma talked about it again after she got so sick. I came home to stay in 1999 and Mamma was very ill. I decided I had to get her a sprout of that lilac bush somehow.
I went there every time I could through one whole year trying to find a way in to where I thought it would be. Sometimes that spring I could smell the lilacs. I love the smell. I finally hacked my way to it one early fall morning. Of course it was not a big magnificent thing anymore. Really just a bunch of sprouts around a dilapidated bush. I couldn't tell my Mamma that so I dug two sprouts and brought them home with me. I planted both in Mamma's yard. One died but the other one was thriving. Mamma got worse and had to go to a Nursing Home when we were no longer to give her quality care at home. We had to sell the house for financial reasons but I dug the Lilac bush up and brought it here. That spring I went back up on that hill and picked a few scrubby lilacs to put in Mamma's room. She was so thrilled and would reach over and gently run her hand over them. I held them close for her to smell. It made her happy to have a lilac from the Ol' Bush.
Mamma died that very November. I have coddled my bush ever since and just couldn't make myself give up. Now seven years later I will finally have some blooms if this old cold weather will cease.
I have been feeling my Mamma's presence so strongly lately all around me. Well Mamma your ol' bush is gonna bloom again for you. I'll bring you a bouquet'!!!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
JUST SOME THOUGHTS ON MY LIFE
3-22-10...THOUGHTS ON THINGS I'VE LEARNED
Over the years I have learned a lot of things. I certainly have learned that I am hard headed and stubborn. I'm sure not proud of that fact but it IS' a fact. I'd like to think that I've learned lots of more worthwhile things. Like knowing that it is much easier to laugh than it is to cry. I learned by doing, by seeing,by listening, but most of all by experiencing. I've learned that if I failed it was not my Parents fault or anyone else' for that matter. There is a song by Johnny Cash vowing that Mamma tried.
Mamma and Daddy taught me right from wrong and gave me the tannings if I didn't listen. So Whatever has gone wrong is MY' fault.
Some of the things we face now were so much easier in my youth if in fact they were faced at all. Things have gotten so complicated now and I still cling to the things that were so much more simple. Our philosophy was slow down and live life, smell the roses because they are here a short time just the way we are and it would be such a shame to miss that sweet fragrance. Now some seem to live on the plan or get them before they get you. How sad.
I have pity parties at times. I know they are a waste of my time as well as anyone else' time but I still find myself knee deep in them. Good Grief! How stupid is that? Sometimes it is heartbreaking to remember my past but most time my heart is warmed by it. When I face something now that I think is impossible I just have to stop and remember the difficult times my parents had and I realize how easy I've had it. Boy I get off my pity party fast.
The love my Parents gave me sustained me through many times when it felt like no one loved me. They taught me my self worth, and that No one is better than me but I am better than no one. When I was under the teaching and example of my Parents it was easy to see the good in everyone now it is hard to find good in some people. I am ashamed to say that there are some that I have never found any good in no matter how hard I try.
Trying to tell the youth what we have learned from experience usually falls on deaf ears. I didn't always listen either it just doesn't seem like I had as much to learn as youth do now. I learned so many things the hard way even with my Parents right there to guide me.
I am not as fast or alert as I once was so I've learned to slow way down so I don't make so many mistakes. Age does that to you don't ya know!
There are not enough words in the dictionary to express how very much the people who have been in my life have meant to me. My Parents, My Brother Norman, My sweet Son Richard who gave me so much Joy. To my friends that have come and gone throughout my life and left a part of them with me. My Friends of here and now who are so very important to me. All I can say is Thank you for being there. Thank you for being such a vital part of my life. I appreciate you all more than you'll ever know!!! My Parents taught me to tell everyone that are close to me, I Love You every chance I get just in case one time is all I've got. SOOO!! I LOVE YOU!!!
Over the years I have learned a lot of things. I certainly have learned that I am hard headed and stubborn. I'm sure not proud of that fact but it IS' a fact. I'd like to think that I've learned lots of more worthwhile things. Like knowing that it is much easier to laugh than it is to cry. I learned by doing, by seeing,by listening, but most of all by experiencing. I've learned that if I failed it was not my Parents fault or anyone else' for that matter. There is a song by Johnny Cash vowing that Mamma tried.
Mamma and Daddy taught me right from wrong and gave me the tannings if I didn't listen. So Whatever has gone wrong is MY' fault.
Some of the things we face now were so much easier in my youth if in fact they were faced at all. Things have gotten so complicated now and I still cling to the things that were so much more simple. Our philosophy was slow down and live life, smell the roses because they are here a short time just the way we are and it would be such a shame to miss that sweet fragrance. Now some seem to live on the plan or get them before they get you. How sad.
I have pity parties at times. I know they are a waste of my time as well as anyone else' time but I still find myself knee deep in them. Good Grief! How stupid is that? Sometimes it is heartbreaking to remember my past but most time my heart is warmed by it. When I face something now that I think is impossible I just have to stop and remember the difficult times my parents had and I realize how easy I've had it. Boy I get off my pity party fast.
The love my Parents gave me sustained me through many times when it felt like no one loved me. They taught me my self worth, and that No one is better than me but I am better than no one. When I was under the teaching and example of my Parents it was easy to see the good in everyone now it is hard to find good in some people. I am ashamed to say that there are some that I have never found any good in no matter how hard I try.
Trying to tell the youth what we have learned from experience usually falls on deaf ears. I didn't always listen either it just doesn't seem like I had as much to learn as youth do now. I learned so many things the hard way even with my Parents right there to guide me.
I am not as fast or alert as I once was so I've learned to slow way down so I don't make so many mistakes. Age does that to you don't ya know!
There are not enough words in the dictionary to express how very much the people who have been in my life have meant to me. My Parents, My Brother Norman, My sweet Son Richard who gave me so much Joy. To my friends that have come and gone throughout my life and left a part of them with me. My Friends of here and now who are so very important to me. All I can say is Thank you for being there. Thank you for being such a vital part of my life. I appreciate you all more than you'll ever know!!! My Parents taught me to tell everyone that are close to me, I Love You every chance I get just in case one time is all I've got. SOOO!! I LOVE YOU!!!
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