After several responses to last week’s column, I was forced to recognize how full of gloom and doom it was. As I wrote it, I just tried to include all the crises that came to my mind.
My sister admonished me, saying she had read my column at night and probably would not be able to sleep, and it was all my fault.
A friend called from out of town and told me that things were never as bad as they seemed. She tried to cheer me up. Another friend admitted that this was not my normal mood, being so negative.
And they were correct. I try to see the bright side of life every day and realize how blessed I am.
I have known a few persons who always saw only the thorns on the rose bushes, never the roses. This can become a habit or an addiction, to just look for the negative in everything.
During my childhood, I knew a number of people who suffered extremely painful illnesses, and yet they did not complain. These friends tried to offset their conditions by refusing to give in to them.
I often think of the saying I heard, one fellow ask another, “Do you believe in suffering in silence?”
This fellow answered, “No, when I suffer, everyone is going to know about it.”
Even those of us who try to remain positive, sometimes face times when all we see are the negatives. One of the best prescriptions for changing our attitudes is to make a list of all our blessings. Some of us would be surprised to actually recognize how many ways we are blessed.
If we have a loving and caring family, we are rich indeed. Family members who encourage us in our endeavors and efforts are jewels that cannot be bought.
And then there are our friends, who stand by us in all situations. Friends are ready to believe the best about us and continue to care about us, even with warts and all.
If we have our health, we are blessed beyond that of many who live out their days in hospitals and other care facilities. We often take our health for granted and fail to realize what a blessing it is.
While I was still in elementary school, I recall one of my teachers telling us that the three necessities for life were food, clothing and shelter. Here in our area most people do have these necessities.
Having something to do that is worthwhile and fulfilling is an advantage that we do not recognize often times. When you stop and think of it, most people will have to work most of their lives and if the work is not rewarding, then it becomes drudgery. What a joy when a person can find worthwhile work that benefits others.
This weekend my granddaughter and her family came from Oklahoma City and took us to lunch on Saturday. Her dad joined us for the meal and some good visiting.
On Sunday after church we went to another granddaughter’s home to help celebrate her youngest daughter’s fifth birthday. While there we had a great meal of hamburgers, topped off with ice cream and birthday cake. We also got the chance to visit with another group of relatives. What a great weekend.He
10-29-2009
#458
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Plenty of reasons for stress
In case you haven’t noticed, we live in a stressful time. The situation appears to become more serious each day.
I’ve often wondered how athletic coaches survive each season. They are pushed and pulled in so many directions and no way can they please everybody. Players complain, parents complain, fans complain. How are they able to throw off all the problems and not end up with a heart attack or a stroke?
However coaches’ problems are just one area of concern. We face many life-threatening situations in today’s world. One of the main worries is that of terrorism. How safe are we? Are we going to be attacked again on our own territory? How will we end the two wars in which we are involved now?
These are all concerns that keep us awake at night, causing headaches and digestive upsets
Then there are the weather related disasters, things over which we have no control. People on the west coast are battling fires, while some on the east coast are dealing with floods. In between the two coasts, tornadoes are often a major worry.
Added to all this is the present global financial crisis. We face problems we’ve never had to deal with in earlier times. Yes, I know we were confronted with the Great Depression at one time and shortly thereafter the war to end all wars. I certainly do not want to go through either of these again.
Families worry about being able to pay their bills, or if the breadwinner will be let go from his/her job. Some students have had to drop out of college or delay beginning college because of a lack of funds. This is sad because these young people are our future leaders and tax payers.
With all these problems it seems the world is in an upheaval. Did we not learn anything from our previous experiences? During and after the severe depression, my family along with many others, learned to be thrifty and conserve whatever could be repaired and reused.
In this day of immediate gratification, we spend money we don’t have. Some of our young adults do not realize that purchases charged to their credit cards have to be repaid at some point. However, they are not totally to blame for this, because their parents and other adults have done the same and set an unwise example for these persons.
In addition to all these problems, along comes swine flu. Are you as confused about this condition and how to treat it as I am? One doctor says those who are vulnerable should receive this vaccine, while another medical professional indicates, or at least hints, that this treatment may not be safe? The flu itself has been compared to the serious strain of flu that hit the world in 1918.
My grandmother related stories regarding that time and how bad it was. She remained free of this illness, but went from one neighbor to another to care for those who were suffering with it.
I find it really strange that at this critical time in our history that some persons want to delete the name of God in our pledge of allegiance. I think we need that now more than ever.erro
10-22-2009
#457
I’ve often wondered how athletic coaches survive each season. They are pushed and pulled in so many directions and no way can they please everybody. Players complain, parents complain, fans complain. How are they able to throw off all the problems and not end up with a heart attack or a stroke?
However coaches’ problems are just one area of concern. We face many life-threatening situations in today’s world. One of the main worries is that of terrorism. How safe are we? Are we going to be attacked again on our own territory? How will we end the two wars in which we are involved now?
These are all concerns that keep us awake at night, causing headaches and digestive upsets
Then there are the weather related disasters, things over which we have no control. People on the west coast are battling fires, while some on the east coast are dealing with floods. In between the two coasts, tornadoes are often a major worry.
Added to all this is the present global financial crisis. We face problems we’ve never had to deal with in earlier times. Yes, I know we were confronted with the Great Depression at one time and shortly thereafter the war to end all wars. I certainly do not want to go through either of these again.
Families worry about being able to pay their bills, or if the breadwinner will be let go from his/her job. Some students have had to drop out of college or delay beginning college because of a lack of funds. This is sad because these young people are our future leaders and tax payers.
With all these problems it seems the world is in an upheaval. Did we not learn anything from our previous experiences? During and after the severe depression, my family along with many others, learned to be thrifty and conserve whatever could be repaired and reused.
In this day of immediate gratification, we spend money we don’t have. Some of our young adults do not realize that purchases charged to their credit cards have to be repaid at some point. However, they are not totally to blame for this, because their parents and other adults have done the same and set an unwise example for these persons.
In addition to all these problems, along comes swine flu. Are you as confused about this condition and how to treat it as I am? One doctor says those who are vulnerable should receive this vaccine, while another medical professional indicates, or at least hints, that this treatment may not be safe? The flu itself has been compared to the serious strain of flu that hit the world in 1918.
My grandmother related stories regarding that time and how bad it was. She remained free of this illness, but went from one neighbor to another to care for those who were suffering with it.
I find it really strange that at this critical time in our history that some persons want to delete the name of God in our pledge of allegiance. I think we need that now more than ever.erro
10-22-2009
#457
Thursday, October 15, 2009
We need to discuss cancer
For the past eleven years, I have observed October 9th as a special day in my life. That was the day I underwent cancer surgery.
Telling this again reminds me of my Mother’s brother who, along with his wife, visited in our home regularly.
The conversation would be going along smoothly and Uncle John would look around and in a rather loud voice ask, “Say, did I ever tell you about so and so?”
My aunt would lean over toward us, his audience, and quietly say, “Yes, you’ve told them numerous times, but you all are getting ready to hear it again.”
Now I certainly do not intend to make light of the subject of cancer, but telling my story again is like getting on my soapbox. At this point, I am more concerned with the times after cancer.
During the period of my diagnosis, surgery and later during the chemotherapy, it was like moving through a large black tunnel, with no visible light at the end.
However with the love and support of my family members and so many friends, I worked my way through that dark tunnel. I believe that anyone who goes through this experience cannot do so without learning much about themselves and others.
For one thing you have to learn who you really are. Maybe that sounds strange to you, but you do a lot of thinking during those days when you don’t feel like doing anything other than staying immobile.
We have questions regarding our life: why did this happen to me when there is no history of cancer in any of our family; am I going to survive and what kind of life can I have afterwards? These, and many other questions crowd your thoughts.
In my view, a positive attitude and encouragement from others are as vital to recovery as is treatment of chemo or radiation, or whatever.
When I went for my treatments, so many of the other patients looked totally defeated. Their faces and demeanor showed that they had given up.
It is surprising how easily we chemo patients bonded. We talked about the status of our treatments, our families and especially the little ones. Each of us thought we had the cutest, smartest grandkids and great-grandkids in the world.
Although most of the cancer patients were middle aged or older, a few were young adults. One young man I met said he had been diagnosed nine years earlier and had taken treatments off and on since that time.
The breast cancer support group sponsored by the American Cancer Society was a great source of encouragement and support to many of us. We met once a month and discussed our problems, and serious as it was, we always had a few laughs. This was particularly true when we talked about our hair. When I related my experience of losing my hair in the shower and worrying that it would stop up the shower drain, they all got a laugh.
I do not know why the Lord has given me these extra years, but for whatever reason, I am most grateful.
As I’m certain most of you are aware, October is National Breast Cancer Awareness month, so ladies, get those mammograms and wear something pink to show your support.
10-15-2009
#456
Telling this again reminds me of my Mother’s brother who, along with his wife, visited in our home regularly.
The conversation would be going along smoothly and Uncle John would look around and in a rather loud voice ask, “Say, did I ever tell you about so and so?”
My aunt would lean over toward us, his audience, and quietly say, “Yes, you’ve told them numerous times, but you all are getting ready to hear it again.”
Now I certainly do not intend to make light of the subject of cancer, but telling my story again is like getting on my soapbox. At this point, I am more concerned with the times after cancer.
During the period of my diagnosis, surgery and later during the chemotherapy, it was like moving through a large black tunnel, with no visible light at the end.
However with the love and support of my family members and so many friends, I worked my way through that dark tunnel. I believe that anyone who goes through this experience cannot do so without learning much about themselves and others.
For one thing you have to learn who you really are. Maybe that sounds strange to you, but you do a lot of thinking during those days when you don’t feel like doing anything other than staying immobile.
We have questions regarding our life: why did this happen to me when there is no history of cancer in any of our family; am I going to survive and what kind of life can I have afterwards? These, and many other questions crowd your thoughts.
In my view, a positive attitude and encouragement from others are as vital to recovery as is treatment of chemo or radiation, or whatever.
When I went for my treatments, so many of the other patients looked totally defeated. Their faces and demeanor showed that they had given up.
It is surprising how easily we chemo patients bonded. We talked about the status of our treatments, our families and especially the little ones. Each of us thought we had the cutest, smartest grandkids and great-grandkids in the world.
Although most of the cancer patients were middle aged or older, a few were young adults. One young man I met said he had been diagnosed nine years earlier and had taken treatments off and on since that time.
The breast cancer support group sponsored by the American Cancer Society was a great source of encouragement and support to many of us. We met once a month and discussed our problems, and serious as it was, we always had a few laughs. This was particularly true when we talked about our hair. When I related my experience of losing my hair in the shower and worrying that it would stop up the shower drain, they all got a laugh.
I do not know why the Lord has given me these extra years, but for whatever reason, I am most grateful.
As I’m certain most of you are aware, October is National Breast Cancer Awareness month, so ladies, get those mammograms and wear something pink to show your support.
10-15-2009
#456
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Family meals make life rich
For a while now, I’ve been traveling a journey to the past. Many of the memories of earlier happenings and events are still so fresh in my mind. Some of these memories are clearer than recalling what I had for breakfast this morning.
Speaking of breakfast, one rule at our house when we were growing up was that we ate together as a family in the mornings and again at night.
Our morning meal usually consisted of fruit juice, cereal, bacon, ham or sausage, eggs and biscuits or toast. Usually on Sunday mornings, Mother cooked pork chops with brown cream gravy. What a feast!
It never occurred to us to leave for school with a piece of toast or a doughnut. Later when I became a teen, I often spent the night with one of my girl friends. Sometimes we had a soda for breakfast and as sure as shooting, I would become nauseated.
After Ray and I were married and the children came along, we continued to make a serious effort to eat together as a family, most especially at night.
While sitting at the table, we discussed the events of the day and often times mentioned problems we had.
Once when one of the boys had a friend over to eat with us, this young guest said something about, “My ole lady.” Ray laid his fork down on his plate and looked this boy in the eye and said, “Son, are you talking about your mother?”
“Yeah,” he said.
Ray replied, “In our house you do not call her ’Your ole lady.’ She is your mother.”
I sometimes think that rudeness has overtaken our nation. This does not just concern the young children and teens, but look at some of the adults some of whom are so rude in speech and manners.
My siblings and I were taught to say, “Please, thank you, yes sir, no sir” and other polite expressions.
Some parents are so busy making a living, they fail to see the importance of making a life. Many of us do not make enough time for our children.
In our fast-paced world, it is not always possible to have our meals together as a family. Many times a father works more than one job or is on shift work and does not have the opportunity to eat with his family. I think this is a real detriment to having close family relations, but on the other hand, the children can recognize the quality time they do have with their parents is special.
I think the love of reading was instilled in my children early in life and though they are all adults now, they still enjoy reading.
Ray began taking David fishing when he was probably about six years old. When there are several children in a family, it’s helpful if parents can spend some time alone with each child. This forms a close bond between parents and their children.
I’m sure that many parents feel the same as I do: if we could just go back and do ‘parenthood’ over again, we would surely do a better job, but that is not possible. We need to be grateful for the things we did do right.
10-8-2009
#455
Speaking of breakfast, one rule at our house when we were growing up was that we ate together as a family in the mornings and again at night.
Our morning meal usually consisted of fruit juice, cereal, bacon, ham or sausage, eggs and biscuits or toast. Usually on Sunday mornings, Mother cooked pork chops with brown cream gravy. What a feast!
It never occurred to us to leave for school with a piece of toast or a doughnut. Later when I became a teen, I often spent the night with one of my girl friends. Sometimes we had a soda for breakfast and as sure as shooting, I would become nauseated.
After Ray and I were married and the children came along, we continued to make a serious effort to eat together as a family, most especially at night.
While sitting at the table, we discussed the events of the day and often times mentioned problems we had.
Once when one of the boys had a friend over to eat with us, this young guest said something about, “My ole lady.” Ray laid his fork down on his plate and looked this boy in the eye and said, “Son, are you talking about your mother?”
“Yeah,” he said.
Ray replied, “In our house you do not call her ’Your ole lady.’ She is your mother.”
I sometimes think that rudeness has overtaken our nation. This does not just concern the young children and teens, but look at some of the adults some of whom are so rude in speech and manners.
My siblings and I were taught to say, “Please, thank you, yes sir, no sir” and other polite expressions.
Some parents are so busy making a living, they fail to see the importance of making a life. Many of us do not make enough time for our children.
In our fast-paced world, it is not always possible to have our meals together as a family. Many times a father works more than one job or is on shift work and does not have the opportunity to eat with his family. I think this is a real detriment to having close family relations, but on the other hand, the children can recognize the quality time they do have with their parents is special.
I think the love of reading was instilled in my children early in life and though they are all adults now, they still enjoy reading.
Ray began taking David fishing when he was probably about six years old. When there are several children in a family, it’s helpful if parents can spend some time alone with each child. This forms a close bond between parents and their children.
I’m sure that many parents feel the same as I do: if we could just go back and do ‘parenthood’ over again, we would surely do a better job, but that is not possible. We need to be grateful for the things we did do right.
10-8-2009
#455
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Well, do you have a story?
Have you ever heard the statement, “Everybody has a story?” If we had each of our friends and relatives write his life story, everyone would be different. I’m sure many of us would be surprised, perhaps shocked or even proud. It would be inspiring to learn of the hardships these persons had overcome.
Could you tell from where your parents came and what their lifestyle was? Were they farmers, or miners, or accountants?
Were your parents older when you were born, or had they barely turned of legal age?
I often think back to incidents in my childhood and one of the very first things I remember is riding home in the back seat of our old car. I’m not sure about the make of the car, nor the model year, but I do recall that it had those isinglass snap-in pieces that served as window coverings. I had my head in Mother’s lap because I had just had my tonsils out and we were on our way home. I was two years old at that time.
Maybe you grew up in a rural area, a large city or a small town? Where would you prefer to live today? It seems to me that there are some places that just echo the word ‘home.’
Did you have friends or acquaintances of other cultures? I always felt special because we lived in an area that had several different nationalities represented. At one house we had a German family who lived across the street from us, and a Norwegian couple next door to us. Both families had unique manners and practices that were different from ours.
The Norwegian neighbor always brought out some sort of sweet treat when we visited, even if we just dropped over to borrow a cup of sugar or an egg. This couple was polite and respected the property of others.
Another time when we lived on a different street, our nearby neighbors were natives of England. We loved hearing them talk. The father worked in a relative’s bakery and they always had doughnuts or cinnamon rolls or some such pastry at their house. There were a number of children in this family and when I sat with Margaret at lunch in school, she was agreeable to swapping part of our lunches. She would take a part of my cheese and crackers in exchange for a jellyroll or doughnut.
Coming from Texas, I never knew much about Indian tribes until we moved over to Antlers in Southeastern Oklahoma. There I met a Choctaw woman who became one of my dearest friends. She was a compassionate person and very energetic. She has remained a special person to me to this day.
When our house was being built here, we lived in the country for several years. Some of our city relatives were visiting once and one of them asked, “Ray, what do you all do for entertainment?”
“Well, once in a while the road grader comes down this road, and at times, we’ve had some crop dusters fly over.”
While living in the country, we did come to appreciate the use of modern conveniences; such as an all weather road, availability of drinking water and being able to do the laundry at home.
10-01-2009
#454
Could you tell from where your parents came and what their lifestyle was? Were they farmers, or miners, or accountants?
Were your parents older when you were born, or had they barely turned of legal age?
I often think back to incidents in my childhood and one of the very first things I remember is riding home in the back seat of our old car. I’m not sure about the make of the car, nor the model year, but I do recall that it had those isinglass snap-in pieces that served as window coverings. I had my head in Mother’s lap because I had just had my tonsils out and we were on our way home. I was two years old at that time.
Maybe you grew up in a rural area, a large city or a small town? Where would you prefer to live today? It seems to me that there are some places that just echo the word ‘home.’
Did you have friends or acquaintances of other cultures? I always felt special because we lived in an area that had several different nationalities represented. At one house we had a German family who lived across the street from us, and a Norwegian couple next door to us. Both families had unique manners and practices that were different from ours.
The Norwegian neighbor always brought out some sort of sweet treat when we visited, even if we just dropped over to borrow a cup of sugar or an egg. This couple was polite and respected the property of others.
Another time when we lived on a different street, our nearby neighbors were natives of England. We loved hearing them talk. The father worked in a relative’s bakery and they always had doughnuts or cinnamon rolls or some such pastry at their house. There were a number of children in this family and when I sat with Margaret at lunch in school, she was agreeable to swapping part of our lunches. She would take a part of my cheese and crackers in exchange for a jellyroll or doughnut.
Coming from Texas, I never knew much about Indian tribes until we moved over to Antlers in Southeastern Oklahoma. There I met a Choctaw woman who became one of my dearest friends. She was a compassionate person and very energetic. She has remained a special person to me to this day.
When our house was being built here, we lived in the country for several years. Some of our city relatives were visiting once and one of them asked, “Ray, what do you all do for entertainment?”
“Well, once in a while the road grader comes down this road, and at times, we’ve had some crop dusters fly over.”
While living in the country, we did come to appreciate the use of modern conveniences; such as an all weather road, availability of drinking water and being able to do the laundry at home.
10-01-2009
#454
Monday, September 21, 2009
A ‘Roomba’ No Kin to Rumba
Sometimes I wonder if I was born fifty years too soon, or if I’m just not ready for this electronic age. My, there is so much to learn!
When one of your great-grandchildren advises you on how to take a photo on your cell phone, do you feel totally useless? I enjoy using my computer and usually have no serious problems with it, but there are times when I feel like Ned in the first reader.
I guess these thoughts are the result of some happenings at my sister’s home recently. In the first place, she was given a birthday gift of a “roomba.” I had no clue as to what this was, and guess I was too embarrassed to ask.
After several conversations regarding this new product, at least new to me, she finally explained that it was a different kind of vacuum cleaner. This is the small round instrument that travels the carpet without anyone holding onto it to guide it. One of the reasons I was confused when she told me about it, was due to the fact that I thought she was saying she got a rumba.
But, back to the cleaner. Her daughter kept asking her if she had tried it out yet, and Sis made one excuse after another. Finally, she just confessed that she did not know how to use it and had not taken the time to read the manual.
If ever there was a stickler for reading a manual prior to use, it was my husband. My son-in-law accompanied Ray to look at cars one day. Don said, “I thought Ray was going to sit down and read the entire manual before we left the car dealership.”
After my niece had given her mother instructions on using her new tool, my sister did a few trial runs. I gathered that one of the vital things regarding the use of this cleaner is to be certain to set the stops, so that the machine stays within the boundaries where you want it.
My niece retrieved the cleaner and took it to her house to try it out. She said she set a table leaf to keep it within a certain room, but when she checked on it, the machine had gone over the leaf and was cleaning in an adjoining room.
The latest news from last week is that my sister had used the vacuum and was pleased with it.
Several years ago my sister’s other daughter gave her a fancy new electronic toothbrush for Christmas. When Sis told me about this, I asked how she liked it. “Oh, I really don’t know, I haven’t used it yet.” As time rocked on, I would periodically ask Sis about the new item and she gave various excuses for not using it.
Finally, one day she confessed that she was afraid of it. I told her to read the manual and she responded that she had done that, but was still afraid of it.
Several years later her daughter Terry was moving out of state and Sis approached her and asked if she would like the never-used toothbrush. Terry accepted the offer with gratitude and so far, I’ve not heard of any dire reactions resulting from use of the toothbrush.
9-17-2009
#452
When one of your great-grandchildren advises you on how to take a photo on your cell phone, do you feel totally useless? I enjoy using my computer and usually have no serious problems with it, but there are times when I feel like Ned in the first reader.
I guess these thoughts are the result of some happenings at my sister’s home recently. In the first place, she was given a birthday gift of a “roomba.” I had no clue as to what this was, and guess I was too embarrassed to ask.
After several conversations regarding this new product, at least new to me, she finally explained that it was a different kind of vacuum cleaner. This is the small round instrument that travels the carpet without anyone holding onto it to guide it. One of the reasons I was confused when she told me about it, was due to the fact that I thought she was saying she got a rumba.
But, back to the cleaner. Her daughter kept asking her if she had tried it out yet, and Sis made one excuse after another. Finally, she just confessed that she did not know how to use it and had not taken the time to read the manual.
If ever there was a stickler for reading a manual prior to use, it was my husband. My son-in-law accompanied Ray to look at cars one day. Don said, “I thought Ray was going to sit down and read the entire manual before we left the car dealership.”
After my niece had given her mother instructions on using her new tool, my sister did a few trial runs. I gathered that one of the vital things regarding the use of this cleaner is to be certain to set the stops, so that the machine stays within the boundaries where you want it.
My niece retrieved the cleaner and took it to her house to try it out. She said she set a table leaf to keep it within a certain room, but when she checked on it, the machine had gone over the leaf and was cleaning in an adjoining room.
The latest news from last week is that my sister had used the vacuum and was pleased with it.
Several years ago my sister’s other daughter gave her a fancy new electronic toothbrush for Christmas. When Sis told me about this, I asked how she liked it. “Oh, I really don’t know, I haven’t used it yet.” As time rocked on, I would periodically ask Sis about the new item and she gave various excuses for not using it.
Finally, one day she confessed that she was afraid of it. I told her to read the manual and she responded that she had done that, but was still afraid of it.
Several years later her daughter Terry was moving out of state and Sis approached her and asked if she would like the never-used toothbrush. Terry accepted the offer with gratitude and so far, I’ve not heard of any dire reactions resulting from use of the toothbrush.
9-17-2009
#452
Friday, September 11, 2009
Reunions can Capture Time
Over the years I have often wished that I could have attended some of my high school reunions. In 2002 my class celebrated our sixtieth reunion. How I would love to have gone to that, even though I likely would not have recognized many of those present.
Time gets away so fast, and a person looks back and realizes that years have passed since we were back in class together and enjoying mostly carefree days with no serious worries.
When you do look back, certain people stand out in your memories. You think of the beautiful young teenage girls, and the handsome athletic boys. Most of the girls were impressed with the football players and those who participated in basketball.
In the school yearbooks, students were named as the most likely to succeed, the prettiest girls, the friendliest and so on. Boys are also known for their outstanding qualities.
Of course, there were the cheerleaders. At our school, we had both boy and girl cheerleaders. Several years ago, one of my grand-daughters was here and she found my old annual and began laughing as she leafed through the book.
“Mamaw, were those the cheerleader uniforms?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, our school colors were red and gray, so the boys wore gray wool slacks with red satin shirts, and the girls wore gray wool circular skirts (below the knee length) with the red satin shirts.
As I overheard conversations regarding the all school Waurika reunion this weekend, I was impressed with how well the activities were organized. But I know a lot of former students worked long and hard on getting this all together. I heard several people state that this was the best reunion of all time. The musical entertainment during the banquet seemed to be especially pleasing to the crowd.
As a member of the class of ’69, Starr was impressed with the number from her class who were there for their 40th reunion. Of course, it’s sad when you realize that a large number have already passed away.
When she got in Saturday night after the banquet, I began to quiz her about who she had seen. “Oh yes, Mother, I saw her and she looks great.” Some she did not recognize right away and some did not recognize her.
From her class of 39 graduates, nine have died. However, they had 40 persons registered for the special noon luncheon for their class. Some of these were spouses and other relatives. I have noticed that over the years the graduates who seem most interested in attending these functions are the older ones, and especially those who live in other towns and states. I suppose this is that eternal longing to return home.
From David’s class of ’68, there is a large number of former students who have returned to Waurika and now make their home here.
Many of the former students who had stayed over till yesterday were in attendance at our church yesterday. I must say, I saw a few whom I did not recognize, but at this stage in life, I’m not embarrassed to ask these people their names. At age 85, we are not expected to remember names or even faces.
9-10-2009
#451
Time gets away so fast, and a person looks back and realizes that years have passed since we were back in class together and enjoying mostly carefree days with no serious worries.
When you do look back, certain people stand out in your memories. You think of the beautiful young teenage girls, and the handsome athletic boys. Most of the girls were impressed with the football players and those who participated in basketball.
In the school yearbooks, students were named as the most likely to succeed, the prettiest girls, the friendliest and so on. Boys are also known for their outstanding qualities.
Of course, there were the cheerleaders. At our school, we had both boy and girl cheerleaders. Several years ago, one of my grand-daughters was here and she found my old annual and began laughing as she leafed through the book.
“Mamaw, were those the cheerleader uniforms?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, our school colors were red and gray, so the boys wore gray wool slacks with red satin shirts, and the girls wore gray wool circular skirts (below the knee length) with the red satin shirts.
As I overheard conversations regarding the all school Waurika reunion this weekend, I was impressed with how well the activities were organized. But I know a lot of former students worked long and hard on getting this all together. I heard several people state that this was the best reunion of all time. The musical entertainment during the banquet seemed to be especially pleasing to the crowd.
As a member of the class of ’69, Starr was impressed with the number from her class who were there for their 40th reunion. Of course, it’s sad when you realize that a large number have already passed away.
When she got in Saturday night after the banquet, I began to quiz her about who she had seen. “Oh yes, Mother, I saw her and she looks great.” Some she did not recognize right away and some did not recognize her.
From her class of 39 graduates, nine have died. However, they had 40 persons registered for the special noon luncheon for their class. Some of these were spouses and other relatives. I have noticed that over the years the graduates who seem most interested in attending these functions are the older ones, and especially those who live in other towns and states. I suppose this is that eternal longing to return home.
From David’s class of ’68, there is a large number of former students who have returned to Waurika and now make their home here.
Many of the former students who had stayed over till yesterday were in attendance at our church yesterday. I must say, I saw a few whom I did not recognize, but at this stage in life, I’m not embarrassed to ask these people their names. At age 85, we are not expected to remember names or even faces.
9-10-2009
#451
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Ability to Read is a Blessing
In my view one of life’s greatest blessings is the ability to read. This, along with an available source of material, is a way of opening the world to us. We can find books for every interest. I once read a statement, “Someone who can read but doesn’t, is no better off than someone who cannot read.”
I can remember as a small child sitting on the arm of my dad’s chair and having him read the comics to me. He would be reading his evening paper after work and I would find the comic section (I called them the ‘funnies’) and take it to him. He never complained when he laid aside his paper and boosted me onto his lap or the arm of his chair and began to read.
Those are some of my earliest and best memories.
Later after I learned to read, I was fascinated with the Little Golden Books and think I must have read every one of those that was published.
Then I graduated to The Bobsey Twins and Nancy Drew series. There was never a lack of material to enjoy. I realize now that we could have had much more reading resources had we gone to the public library on a regular basis.
I remember as a junior high student, I got involved in some books that were so real to me, I actually believed that I was one of the characters in the stories. One of those books was about a teenage girl who was spending the summer at a camp. Another of the girls became lost one night, and the main character went out with the search party. Eventually the lost girl was located and I remember the feeling of relief and joy as I read this. As the members of the search party sat around the open fire outside, I could taste the hot chocolate they were drinking to warm themselves.
As I progressed into high school, we read some of the classics such as “A Tale of Two Cities.” We even studied some of Chaucer’s works, although I never learned to correctly pronounce the words in the language he used.
Over the years when I have entered a bookstore, I knew I would be there for likely several hours. I must admit that there have been times when I purchased a book that I had previously bought. Or I have checked out books from the library that I’d already read.
As I’ve gotten older and my eyes are not as good as they once were, I’ve often worried what I would do if I lost my ability to read. One of the advantages now is that so much good reading material is available in large print, and I do like that. I believe that these large print books are being made more available each year.
When David was a toddler and Starr a baby, I would sit in my rocker with Starr on my shoulder and David on the arm of my chair. We sat this way for hours, sometimes, but they never grew tired of hearing the stories.
A friend’s little boy came home from school and announced he’d learned to read. His mother pointed to the name embossed on the stove and said, “Read that.”
“We don’t read stoves, we read books, Mom.”
9-3-2009
#450
I can remember as a small child sitting on the arm of my dad’s chair and having him read the comics to me. He would be reading his evening paper after work and I would find the comic section (I called them the ‘funnies’) and take it to him. He never complained when he laid aside his paper and boosted me onto his lap or the arm of his chair and began to read.
Those are some of my earliest and best memories.
Later after I learned to read, I was fascinated with the Little Golden Books and think I must have read every one of those that was published.
Then I graduated to The Bobsey Twins and Nancy Drew series. There was never a lack of material to enjoy. I realize now that we could have had much more reading resources had we gone to the public library on a regular basis.
I remember as a junior high student, I got involved in some books that were so real to me, I actually believed that I was one of the characters in the stories. One of those books was about a teenage girl who was spending the summer at a camp. Another of the girls became lost one night, and the main character went out with the search party. Eventually the lost girl was located and I remember the feeling of relief and joy as I read this. As the members of the search party sat around the open fire outside, I could taste the hot chocolate they were drinking to warm themselves.
As I progressed into high school, we read some of the classics such as “A Tale of Two Cities.” We even studied some of Chaucer’s works, although I never learned to correctly pronounce the words in the language he used.
Over the years when I have entered a bookstore, I knew I would be there for likely several hours. I must admit that there have been times when I purchased a book that I had previously bought. Or I have checked out books from the library that I’d already read.
As I’ve gotten older and my eyes are not as good as they once were, I’ve often worried what I would do if I lost my ability to read. One of the advantages now is that so much good reading material is available in large print, and I do like that. I believe that these large print books are being made more available each year.
When David was a toddler and Starr a baby, I would sit in my rocker with Starr on my shoulder and David on the arm of my chair. We sat this way for hours, sometimes, but they never grew tired of hearing the stories.
A friend’s little boy came home from school and announced he’d learned to read. His mother pointed to the name embossed on the stove and said, “Read that.”
“We don’t read stoves, we read books, Mom.”
9-3-2009
#450
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Will They Take This ‘Clunker’?
According to the latest news reports, the “Cash for Clunkers” program is due to end tonight. For some persons this has been a very successful event.
During all the publicity regarding this enterprise, I thought how neat it would be if we could turn in our old clunker bodies and get a brand new model.
I’m not suggesting we get a few new parts, but that we could get a completely new body with all parts working and in good order. It’s exciting to think about how we would react to that. Some of us, yours truly included, would have to change our constant complaining to one of gratitude and praise.
I find it disturbing to think back over the past years and realize how I took my energy for granted and never thought to be grateful for the abilities I had.
Most of us have had a much better life than we are willing to admit. Of course, there is always sadness and sorrow, but on the other hand, there is so much joy and happiness mixed in with that.
At times when I have suffered a serious illness, I have said to myself, “If I ever get back on my feet, I’m going to be so thankful and am going to make the best of every day.” Surprisingly enough, I do follow through on that commitment, for a little while, but then I revert to my old ways of finding fault.
On another subject I think this week marks the beginning of school for Texas students. Some of our nearest schools here in Oklahoma have already been in session for several weeks.
Mothers of kindergarteners and those with high school seniors find this a mixed blessing. Of course, they would not have it any other way, but sending that child off for school for the first time is such a big step in the life of a child and the mother, too.
On the other hand those mothers who have seniors this year know that soon those students will likely be on their own. This knowledge causes parents to wonder if they have done their best to teach their students to deal with real life.
I see little students with huge backpacks and wonder what all is in them. I never heard the word “backpack” except in reference to those in the military. Our backpack was a “book satchel.” Then there was the “vanilla folder” as my brother called it for storing some of our papers. Mother made us a little drawstring bag our of printed fabric, sometimes a feed sack, and we used this for storing our crayons to keep them together. We only had the small sized box of Crayolas that contained eight different colors. There were extra pencils and erasers and later, fourth grade, I think, we had to have a pen staff and little pen points that fit into the staff. Oh yes, there was always the bottle of ink that had a tendency to get overturned and spill on someone’s clothes.
The word calculator was not in our vocabulary and no one had ever heard of a computer or cell phone. Ah, but somehow we struggled through and now realize what good times those were.
8-27-2009
#449
During all the publicity regarding this enterprise, I thought how neat it would be if we could turn in our old clunker bodies and get a brand new model.
I’m not suggesting we get a few new parts, but that we could get a completely new body with all parts working and in good order. It’s exciting to think about how we would react to that. Some of us, yours truly included, would have to change our constant complaining to one of gratitude and praise.
I find it disturbing to think back over the past years and realize how I took my energy for granted and never thought to be grateful for the abilities I had.
Most of us have had a much better life than we are willing to admit. Of course, there is always sadness and sorrow, but on the other hand, there is so much joy and happiness mixed in with that.
At times when I have suffered a serious illness, I have said to myself, “If I ever get back on my feet, I’m going to be so thankful and am going to make the best of every day.” Surprisingly enough, I do follow through on that commitment, for a little while, but then I revert to my old ways of finding fault.
On another subject I think this week marks the beginning of school for Texas students. Some of our nearest schools here in Oklahoma have already been in session for several weeks.
Mothers of kindergarteners and those with high school seniors find this a mixed blessing. Of course, they would not have it any other way, but sending that child off for school for the first time is such a big step in the life of a child and the mother, too.
On the other hand those mothers who have seniors this year know that soon those students will likely be on their own. This knowledge causes parents to wonder if they have done their best to teach their students to deal with real life.
I see little students with huge backpacks and wonder what all is in them. I never heard the word “backpack” except in reference to those in the military. Our backpack was a “book satchel.” Then there was the “vanilla folder” as my brother called it for storing some of our papers. Mother made us a little drawstring bag our of printed fabric, sometimes a feed sack, and we used this for storing our crayons to keep them together. We only had the small sized box of Crayolas that contained eight different colors. There were extra pencils and erasers and later, fourth grade, I think, we had to have a pen staff and little pen points that fit into the staff. Oh yes, there was always the bottle of ink that had a tendency to get overturned and spill on someone’s clothes.
The word calculator was not in our vocabulary and no one had ever heard of a computer or cell phone. Ah, but somehow we struggled through and now realize what good times those were.
8-27-2009
#449
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Change is Always Certain
Change—always change. Change is a constant in our lives. We are not always aware that change is taking place, but at some point we realize that we have changed in many ways, as have our circumstances.
Sometimes we long for the ‘good ole days’ before the world changed so much. However this is a trade off: whether we want to go back to the days when women had to heat water on a wood stove to do the wash, or if we would rather have an automatic washer and dryer to take care of our laundry.
Would we want to go back to the days before cell phones? Even though they are sometimes nuisances, cell phones are invaluable in times of crisis when help is needed. As I have seen the value of having a cell phone, I’ve changed my mind about their usefulness.
One of the most evident changes is our fast-paced life. We seem to have no time for the slower schedules and quiet enjoyments of life now. We leave one meeting early in order to get to another meeting late.
There was a time when my life was scheduled up to the minute. I planned the order of all the things I would do and when I would do them. Eventually, it dawned on me that I was really missing out on a lot of pleasurable activities and that I was being a slave to my schedule.
Many times Ray would come into the kitchen where I might be washing dishes and tell me he was going to the country for some reason or other. He would ask me if I would like to go along. Most of the time I told him I had better stay home and finish my chores.
But as time passed, my senses told me that the dishes and other chores would wait, and I had the opportunity to go enjoy some time with him. Since then, my routine has become much more flexible and if I want to leave something undone here at home, I do, and try to make the most of the opportunities that are available to me.
We often give the impression that we are driven by a compulsion to get everything done today.
My mother’s nature was that she only had so much time to do everything on her list and that meant she often times seemed to be going to a fire. Mother wanted us to feel that everything was perfect for us, but the outcome of that desire was that she was usually tired and worn out.
On the other hand, Ray’s mother never seemed to get in a hurry and when we went to her house, she always took time to sit down and visit. She made us feel welcome.
As I think of all the changes of the past 50 years, I wonder what it will be in another half century. What conditions will my great-grandchildren confront? Will they take time to stop and enjoy the beauty all around them, or will they speed by so fast, they never notice God’s beauty? We had better smell those roses today, they won’t last forever.
8-20-2009
#448
Sometimes we long for the ‘good ole days’ before the world changed so much. However this is a trade off: whether we want to go back to the days when women had to heat water on a wood stove to do the wash, or if we would rather have an automatic washer and dryer to take care of our laundry.
Would we want to go back to the days before cell phones? Even though they are sometimes nuisances, cell phones are invaluable in times of crisis when help is needed. As I have seen the value of having a cell phone, I’ve changed my mind about their usefulness.
One of the most evident changes is our fast-paced life. We seem to have no time for the slower schedules and quiet enjoyments of life now. We leave one meeting early in order to get to another meeting late.
There was a time when my life was scheduled up to the minute. I planned the order of all the things I would do and when I would do them. Eventually, it dawned on me that I was really missing out on a lot of pleasurable activities and that I was being a slave to my schedule.
Many times Ray would come into the kitchen where I might be washing dishes and tell me he was going to the country for some reason or other. He would ask me if I would like to go along. Most of the time I told him I had better stay home and finish my chores.
But as time passed, my senses told me that the dishes and other chores would wait, and I had the opportunity to go enjoy some time with him. Since then, my routine has become much more flexible and if I want to leave something undone here at home, I do, and try to make the most of the opportunities that are available to me.
We often give the impression that we are driven by a compulsion to get everything done today.
My mother’s nature was that she only had so much time to do everything on her list and that meant she often times seemed to be going to a fire. Mother wanted us to feel that everything was perfect for us, but the outcome of that desire was that she was usually tired and worn out.
On the other hand, Ray’s mother never seemed to get in a hurry and when we went to her house, she always took time to sit down and visit. She made us feel welcome.
As I think of all the changes of the past 50 years, I wonder what it will be in another half century. What conditions will my great-grandchildren confront? Will they take time to stop and enjoy the beauty all around them, or will they speed by so fast, they never notice God’s beauty? We had better smell those roses today, they won’t last forever.
8-20-2009
#448
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Friends are Truly Rewarding
One of life’s most rewarding relationships is that of true friendship. We meet persons who become friends in many ways. Sometimes, a mutual friend brings us together. We may have the same hobby, enjoy the same reading material, or other interests in common.
It’s been said that a friend reaches out for your hand, and touches your heart.
Friends are everywhere and are there to share your joys and your sorrows. True friends know the “real you,” and care about you anyway.
Our longtime friends may have been our schoolmates or neighbors when we were young. One of the sad things is that as we travel life’s path, we often lose touch with our friends. Oh, we don’t intend for this to happen, but we become so busy with our own lives, that we neglect checking with our friends or staying in touch.
As happens quite often, our friends’ families also become our friends and we care about each person in that clan. I still remember the parents of so many of my friends from grade school. When my dad passed away, a man came to visit my mother and convey his condolences. We had lived across the street from each other back about the time we first began school. I had not seen him nor heard from him, in many years.
I’ve heard someone say, “Well, you don’t get to choose your relatives, but you can choose your friends.”
As the years have passed, I’ve come to realize that my friends have taught me many lessons. Some have had serious health problems, and yet, they have stayed strong and not become bitter. Due to the time in which we grew up, many friends have suffered through severe financial difficulties and yet are generous to the various needs of the community.
When a long period of time has passed and you’ve been separated from your friends for whatever reason, re-connecting with them is a special gift.
I still cherish the friendships I enjoyed during the times we lived in different locations. Once in a while, I run into these people unexpectedly and we spend long periods of time trying to catch up.
As time goes by, you may think of a friend and wonder where he is now and what he is doing. Locating that person is not always easy or possible. When my mother learned that one of her friends had died, I remember Mother saying, “I had intended to go see her, but I didn’t get over there.”
Some of my longtime friends and I seldom get to see each other, but I try to stay in touch by phone and mail. At my age, many of my friends have died and I miss them, but I still have the wonderful memories of our times together.
When the moving truck came to bring our things from Antlers here to Waurika, I remember standing in our yard, crying and hugging one of my dear friends. That has been 52 years ago, but we are still friends.
My life has been wonderfully blessed to have the friends who have helped me along life’s way. I hope you feel the same way.
8-13-2009
#447
It’s been said that a friend reaches out for your hand, and touches your heart.
Friends are everywhere and are there to share your joys and your sorrows. True friends know the “real you,” and care about you anyway.
Our longtime friends may have been our schoolmates or neighbors when we were young. One of the sad things is that as we travel life’s path, we often lose touch with our friends. Oh, we don’t intend for this to happen, but we become so busy with our own lives, that we neglect checking with our friends or staying in touch.
As happens quite often, our friends’ families also become our friends and we care about each person in that clan. I still remember the parents of so many of my friends from grade school. When my dad passed away, a man came to visit my mother and convey his condolences. We had lived across the street from each other back about the time we first began school. I had not seen him nor heard from him, in many years.
I’ve heard someone say, “Well, you don’t get to choose your relatives, but you can choose your friends.”
As the years have passed, I’ve come to realize that my friends have taught me many lessons. Some have had serious health problems, and yet, they have stayed strong and not become bitter. Due to the time in which we grew up, many friends have suffered through severe financial difficulties and yet are generous to the various needs of the community.
When a long period of time has passed and you’ve been separated from your friends for whatever reason, re-connecting with them is a special gift.
I still cherish the friendships I enjoyed during the times we lived in different locations. Once in a while, I run into these people unexpectedly and we spend long periods of time trying to catch up.
As time goes by, you may think of a friend and wonder where he is now and what he is doing. Locating that person is not always easy or possible. When my mother learned that one of her friends had died, I remember Mother saying, “I had intended to go see her, but I didn’t get over there.”
Some of my longtime friends and I seldom get to see each other, but I try to stay in touch by phone and mail. At my age, many of my friends have died and I miss them, but I still have the wonderful memories of our times together.
When the moving truck came to bring our things from Antlers here to Waurika, I remember standing in our yard, crying and hugging one of my dear friends. That has been 52 years ago, but we are still friends.
My life has been wonderfully blessed to have the friends who have helped me along life’s way. I hope you feel the same way.
8-13-2009
#447
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Carving a Bird Not My Forte
A friend surprised me the other day when she asked, “Evelyn, how long has it been since you’ve seen a wishbone?”
I began to laugh and told her that just the day before, my daughter and I had mentioned that. I thought about this and could not remember the last time I’d seen a wishbone, or eaten a “pulley bone” as we called it.
That used to be my favorite piece of chicken. In fact, my brother and sister and I fought over who got the wishbone. We made a big ritual about pulling it apart and seeing which of us got the short piece. I know it was different in families, but in our family, the person with the short piece got his wish.
I can’t think of anything better than a good crisp fried wishbone. Over the years I’ve been surprised at the number of persons, men especially, who grew up on farms and once they are adults and move away, they refuse to eat chicken fixed any way.
When I think of wishbones, I think of my early years of marriage. With no car, Ray and I walked downtown to the grocery store in Stillwater. Due to our tight budget, we had to shop very frugally, but we never went hungry and usually had plenty of good, nourishing food.
One Saturday we purchased a fryer and brought it home. When I told Ray I had never cut up a chicken, he rolled up his sleeves, scrubbed his hands, got a large knife and began to cut the chicken into pieces to be fried. Because chickens were cheaper than most other meat at that time, we began to eat chicken often, but he continued to cut them up for me.
Finally, one week we brought the chicken home and Ray said, “You think you can cut this one up now?” I looked at him and then at the chicken, and shook my head ‘no’.
“Okay, I want you to watch carefully while I do this, because you will be the one to do this from now on.”
Watching him, it looked so simple, but I knew better. I did not buy a chicken for several weeks after that, because I knew what lay ahead.
Finally, near the end of the month, before Ray’s GI money for school arrived, I realized it was either chicken or no meat. So, reluctantly, I picked out a chicken and brought it home.
Ray went into the bedroom and left me in the kitchen to do my work. I remember calling to him, “Ray, I need help.”
He came into the kitchen and saw the butchered carcass of that poor chicken and began to laugh. I was on the verge of tears. Why hadn’t my mother taught me this while I was still living at home?
I never did become very adept at cutting up chickens, but learned that if I made chicken and dumplings, the butchering of the chicken was not quite so obvious.
To this day, I doubt that I could do a decent job of cutting up a chicken, but then I’ve found they do come in pieces, ready to fry or put in a pot of dumplings. Thank goodness.erron
8-6-2009
#446
I began to laugh and told her that just the day before, my daughter and I had mentioned that. I thought about this and could not remember the last time I’d seen a wishbone, or eaten a “pulley bone” as we called it.
That used to be my favorite piece of chicken. In fact, my brother and sister and I fought over who got the wishbone. We made a big ritual about pulling it apart and seeing which of us got the short piece. I know it was different in families, but in our family, the person with the short piece got his wish.
I can’t think of anything better than a good crisp fried wishbone. Over the years I’ve been surprised at the number of persons, men especially, who grew up on farms and once they are adults and move away, they refuse to eat chicken fixed any way.
When I think of wishbones, I think of my early years of marriage. With no car, Ray and I walked downtown to the grocery store in Stillwater. Due to our tight budget, we had to shop very frugally, but we never went hungry and usually had plenty of good, nourishing food.
One Saturday we purchased a fryer and brought it home. When I told Ray I had never cut up a chicken, he rolled up his sleeves, scrubbed his hands, got a large knife and began to cut the chicken into pieces to be fried. Because chickens were cheaper than most other meat at that time, we began to eat chicken often, but he continued to cut them up for me.
Finally, one week we brought the chicken home and Ray said, “You think you can cut this one up now?” I looked at him and then at the chicken, and shook my head ‘no’.
“Okay, I want you to watch carefully while I do this, because you will be the one to do this from now on.”
Watching him, it looked so simple, but I knew better. I did not buy a chicken for several weeks after that, because I knew what lay ahead.
Finally, near the end of the month, before Ray’s GI money for school arrived, I realized it was either chicken or no meat. So, reluctantly, I picked out a chicken and brought it home.
Ray went into the bedroom and left me in the kitchen to do my work. I remember calling to him, “Ray, I need help.”
He came into the kitchen and saw the butchered carcass of that poor chicken and began to laugh. I was on the verge of tears. Why hadn’t my mother taught me this while I was still living at home?
I never did become very adept at cutting up chickens, but learned that if I made chicken and dumplings, the butchering of the chicken was not quite so obvious.
To this day, I doubt that I could do a decent job of cutting up a chicken, but then I’ve found they do come in pieces, ready to fry or put in a pot of dumplings. Thank goodness.erron
8-6-2009
#446
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Summers Seem Too Short
Where has this summer gone? Oh, I know that we still have to face August and September and that we can expect more heat during that time. However, schools will be starting a new year in most of this area within the next few weeks and we will be off on another round of fall and winter activities.
Recently I was thinking about county fairs that are most often held in early September. As a child, my siblings and I did not know nor care about the crop displays or the animals shown at county fairs. We were accustomed to attending the state fair in Dallas, and to us, it meant lots of rides and special treats of food.
Can you remember the taste of cotton candy? To me, cotton candy looked so inviting and then when I began to eat it, it melted down to nothing. This was similar to tasting vanilla flavoring. When Mother made a cake, I would usually be standing by her side, or perhaps sitting on the cabinet countertop. When she put that vanilla in the cake, the aroma was tantalizing.
I remember begging her to let me have a taste and she told me, “You won’t like it,” but eventually she did go ahead and give me a small taste in a teaspoon. What a disappointment! It was so bitter I never asked to taste it a second time.
When it came to rides, I was never the daredevil that my siblings were. Once when we were all on the Ferris wheel, and the operator stopped the machine while we were right at the top. I must have been about ten or twelve years old, and I begin yelling, “Let me off.” For some reason, I was really frightened.
The operator started the wheel up and when we got to the bottom, he stopped and let me off. I was so embarrassed, but at the same time, I was glad to be off.
In 1936 when Texas celebrated their Centennial, my dad had bought several books of tickets for the various activities at the fair. About the time the Centennial activities got into full swing, my brother came down with scarlet fever and we were quarantined.
After a certain period of time, my sister and I were given a clean bill of health and were allowed to leave the house. However, Mother could not go off and leave my brother while she took us to the fair, so my maternal grandmother came and stayed a week or so, and took my sister and me to the fair. We would not think of letting those tickets go to waste.
At that time, my grandmother must have been in her seventies. I recall we stayed all day at the fair and I can’t imagine a person that age herding two children all that time.
I do remember that I had a new appreciation for good cold drinking water after that day of consuming soft drinks all day.
After Ray and I had a family, he did help us learn to enjoy the crops on display and the beautiful animals that were shown with such pride.
7-29-2009
#445
Recently I was thinking about county fairs that are most often held in early September. As a child, my siblings and I did not know nor care about the crop displays or the animals shown at county fairs. We were accustomed to attending the state fair in Dallas, and to us, it meant lots of rides and special treats of food.
Can you remember the taste of cotton candy? To me, cotton candy looked so inviting and then when I began to eat it, it melted down to nothing. This was similar to tasting vanilla flavoring. When Mother made a cake, I would usually be standing by her side, or perhaps sitting on the cabinet countertop. When she put that vanilla in the cake, the aroma was tantalizing.
I remember begging her to let me have a taste and she told me, “You won’t like it,” but eventually she did go ahead and give me a small taste in a teaspoon. What a disappointment! It was so bitter I never asked to taste it a second time.
When it came to rides, I was never the daredevil that my siblings were. Once when we were all on the Ferris wheel, and the operator stopped the machine while we were right at the top. I must have been about ten or twelve years old, and I begin yelling, “Let me off.” For some reason, I was really frightened.
The operator started the wheel up and when we got to the bottom, he stopped and let me off. I was so embarrassed, but at the same time, I was glad to be off.
In 1936 when Texas celebrated their Centennial, my dad had bought several books of tickets for the various activities at the fair. About the time the Centennial activities got into full swing, my brother came down with scarlet fever and we were quarantined.
After a certain period of time, my sister and I were given a clean bill of health and were allowed to leave the house. However, Mother could not go off and leave my brother while she took us to the fair, so my maternal grandmother came and stayed a week or so, and took my sister and me to the fair. We would not think of letting those tickets go to waste.
At that time, my grandmother must have been in her seventies. I recall we stayed all day at the fair and I can’t imagine a person that age herding two children all that time.
I do remember that I had a new appreciation for good cold drinking water after that day of consuming soft drinks all day.
After Ray and I had a family, he did help us learn to enjoy the crops on display and the beautiful animals that were shown with such pride.
7-29-2009
#445
Traveling a Well-worn Path
My continuing project of cleaning out old records and memorabilia is like traveling a well-worn path. However, many of the items I am discovering, are things I had long since forgotten.
I’ve learned one thing: a person should always designate who the persons are in photos and should record a date. Last month when my aunt celebrated her 101st birthday, her daughter gave one of my nieces some old pictures and my niece Marcia became interested in checking out some of our ancestors.
Since I am the oldest of my parents’ children, I remembered more than my brother or either of my sisters, but even so, there is a large blank space in the line of our ancestors.
As I search through the pictures and old news clippings, there is always the decision as to which things to keep and which to toss. I have found several letters written in the mid 1970s that were sent by friends. Many of these persons are no longer with us, but I found a few that I intend to pass along to the offspring of these friends.
I spent a few days last week shredding old income tax records. I decided that I could safely dispose of the first income tax return that Ray and I filed for 1948.
Removing the staples from these records takes longer than the actual shredding process. I try to contain the staples, but there are always some that escape, so I have to hunt for those.
While I have been busy doing these chores, Starr has examined some of the records from her school days here in Waurika, from first grade to graduation. We’ve enjoyed many laughs as we looked at these and recalled events surrounding the photos.
When these young persons get out of high school and college, the old records don’t seem to have the same meanings for them as they do for us seniors. As they grow older, however, they do seem to find more interest in the past.
I hate to admit this, but I am the type person who procrastinates on chores until I am pushed into doing something about the problem. Well, that’s what it has come to with the paper work. I had large boxes stacked in my closets, filling them to the extent that we could hardly get our clothes in the closets. So, I could no longer ignore the situation.
Because of my niece’s interest in our family history, we are beginning to realize just how much we do not know. She did have a good starting place when she entered my maternal grandmother’s maiden name as Goostree. I doubt that there are that many persons who claim that name.
Both my grandfathers died at an early age and we do not know much about either of them or their lineage. I was fortunate enough to get to know each of them somewhat, but at my young age at that time, I never took much interest in finding out about them. My dad was the oldest of six children in his family and he was the first to die. Since then, 1989, all of his siblings have passed on, so finding someone with true facts about his family is almost impossible. However, it’s fun to search anyway.
7-22-2009
#444
I’ve learned one thing: a person should always designate who the persons are in photos and should record a date. Last month when my aunt celebrated her 101st birthday, her daughter gave one of my nieces some old pictures and my niece Marcia became interested in checking out some of our ancestors.
Since I am the oldest of my parents’ children, I remembered more than my brother or either of my sisters, but even so, there is a large blank space in the line of our ancestors.
As I search through the pictures and old news clippings, there is always the decision as to which things to keep and which to toss. I have found several letters written in the mid 1970s that were sent by friends. Many of these persons are no longer with us, but I found a few that I intend to pass along to the offspring of these friends.
I spent a few days last week shredding old income tax records. I decided that I could safely dispose of the first income tax return that Ray and I filed for 1948.
Removing the staples from these records takes longer than the actual shredding process. I try to contain the staples, but there are always some that escape, so I have to hunt for those.
While I have been busy doing these chores, Starr has examined some of the records from her school days here in Waurika, from first grade to graduation. We’ve enjoyed many laughs as we looked at these and recalled events surrounding the photos.
When these young persons get out of high school and college, the old records don’t seem to have the same meanings for them as they do for us seniors. As they grow older, however, they do seem to find more interest in the past.
I hate to admit this, but I am the type person who procrastinates on chores until I am pushed into doing something about the problem. Well, that’s what it has come to with the paper work. I had large boxes stacked in my closets, filling them to the extent that we could hardly get our clothes in the closets. So, I could no longer ignore the situation.
Because of my niece’s interest in our family history, we are beginning to realize just how much we do not know. She did have a good starting place when she entered my maternal grandmother’s maiden name as Goostree. I doubt that there are that many persons who claim that name.
Both my grandfathers died at an early age and we do not know much about either of them or their lineage. I was fortunate enough to get to know each of them somewhat, but at my young age at that time, I never took much interest in finding out about them. My dad was the oldest of six children in his family and he was the first to die. Since then, 1989, all of his siblings have passed on, so finding someone with true facts about his family is almost impossible. However, it’s fun to search anyway.
7-22-2009
#444
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Pay Heed to Kids, Seniors
Someone was quoted as saying, “If you would be wise, then cultivate a relationship with children under six and seniors over 70.”
Well, I’ve done both and I must say I’ve learned a lot. Children are so frank and uninhibited, they just say whatever they think without dressing up the language or being subtle.
Seniors have much wisdom to impart, if they can remember these truisms. I find it embarrassing to begin telling something and then forgetting it, before I’ve finished. Often times, it comes back to me, but not always.
For years I looked forward to my 80th birthday because I’d heard that when a person reaches 80, no one expects anything from them. However, I find that people still expect me to get out of bed each morning, wash my face, brush my teeth and comb my hair. Quite often that is as far as I get before I must crash in my recliner for a nap.
In a sense seniors are like children, they don’t try to butter-up people and flatter them just to gain their favor. I would hope that when seniors have something unpleasant to say, they would at least say it kindly.
When my granddaughter Rachel was about five and came to visit us at Woodward, I was putting on my makeup one day and she asked what I was using. “This is Oil of Olay, Rachel.”
She stood back and examined me for a few seconds and then said, “But Mamaw, it’s supposed to make you beautiful.” How about that for being subtle?
One day I was at my daughter Gayle’s house and we were visiting. Several of her granddaughters were there and as Gayle was telling me something, she called me “Mother.”
Lauren who was about five at the time, looked at Gayle and said, “You called her Mother.”
“Yes, Lauren, she is my Mother. Didn’t you know that?”
Lauren looked at Gayle and then at me and replied, “She can’t be your Mother, you’re too old.”
After David had learned to talk, we had a problem with him interrupting adult conversations. One night we had a guest and as we sat at the table, David was telling us something.
Our guest, an elderly man, had a hearing problem and while David was speaking, this man began telling Ray something. David stopped talking and looked at the man and said, “Mr. Mac, Mr. Mac, I was talking first and you just cut right into me.”
One of the remarkable things regarding seniors is that their wisdom mostly comes from experience, so they know whereof they speak.
When my grandma told me some of the things regarding her growing up years, I sat with rapt attention. To me, her life had been so very different from mine. Her stepmother was not the kindest person in the world.
Grandma had to make most of her clothes at night after working in the field all day. She had to sew them by hand, while her step-sisters were allowed to use the sewing machine to make doll clothes.
Looking back, I have much for which to be thankful in my life.
7-16-2009
#443
Well, I’ve done both and I must say I’ve learned a lot. Children are so frank and uninhibited, they just say whatever they think without dressing up the language or being subtle.
Seniors have much wisdom to impart, if they can remember these truisms. I find it embarrassing to begin telling something and then forgetting it, before I’ve finished. Often times, it comes back to me, but not always.
For years I looked forward to my 80th birthday because I’d heard that when a person reaches 80, no one expects anything from them. However, I find that people still expect me to get out of bed each morning, wash my face, brush my teeth and comb my hair. Quite often that is as far as I get before I must crash in my recliner for a nap.
In a sense seniors are like children, they don’t try to butter-up people and flatter them just to gain their favor. I would hope that when seniors have something unpleasant to say, they would at least say it kindly.
When my granddaughter Rachel was about five and came to visit us at Woodward, I was putting on my makeup one day and she asked what I was using. “This is Oil of Olay, Rachel.”
She stood back and examined me for a few seconds and then said, “But Mamaw, it’s supposed to make you beautiful.” How about that for being subtle?
One day I was at my daughter Gayle’s house and we were visiting. Several of her granddaughters were there and as Gayle was telling me something, she called me “Mother.”
Lauren who was about five at the time, looked at Gayle and said, “You called her Mother.”
“Yes, Lauren, she is my Mother. Didn’t you know that?”
Lauren looked at Gayle and then at me and replied, “She can’t be your Mother, you’re too old.”
After David had learned to talk, we had a problem with him interrupting adult conversations. One night we had a guest and as we sat at the table, David was telling us something.
Our guest, an elderly man, had a hearing problem and while David was speaking, this man began telling Ray something. David stopped talking and looked at the man and said, “Mr. Mac, Mr. Mac, I was talking first and you just cut right into me.”
One of the remarkable things regarding seniors is that their wisdom mostly comes from experience, so they know whereof they speak.
When my grandma told me some of the things regarding her growing up years, I sat with rapt attention. To me, her life had been so very different from mine. Her stepmother was not the kindest person in the world.
Grandma had to make most of her clothes at night after working in the field all day. She had to sew them by hand, while her step-sisters were allowed to use the sewing machine to make doll clothes.
Looking back, I have much for which to be thankful in my life.
7-16-2009
#443
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Summer Labor Can Wilt You
How refreshing to awaken to the aroma of grass wet with drops from an evening rain. So unusual, especially in July when we are normally very dry and hot.
When July 4th has come and gone, I always feel like summer is at least half over. This does not mean that the heat index will automatically go down. However, the time before school begins again is peering through the curtains and before we know it, students will be loading up their supplies in backpacks and heading off to classes.
I wonder if other senior adults look back as I do and long for those lazy days of going barefoot, eating watermelon, and spending the afternoon in a pool? Those are some of my best childhood memories. Sitting on the old crank ice cream freezer was a chore we fought over, my sister, brother and I.
In my family we had certain responsibilities and these increased as we grew older, but the chores were fairly well equally divided so we did not feel that we were being put upon.
Mother decided early on that it was easier for her to do the cooking than for my sister or me to mess up the kitchen. We were assigned the duties of washing and drying the dishes after each meal.
I remember complaining about having to dry dishes at home, but often I went to our next-door neighbor’s and if she were doing dishes, I would pick up the dishtowel and begin drying her dishes. I still don’t understand why that did not seem to be a chore.
On really hot days, we girls did not stay out in the heat during the afternoons. The girls usually played jacks, or a board game such as checkers. Boys spent their time playing marbles, but were more likely to get out in the afternoon sun and play baseball, or kick ball.
Once the sun went down, we often times put an old quilt out on the lawn and lay on it watching stars twinkling in the sky. We enjoyed a game of Red Rover, Red Rover, or Hide ‘N Seek. Our parents did not have to worry about where we were because we were usually out in our own front yard.
During weeks when we spent time with our grandparents, we helped gather eggs, fed the chickens and put out water for them. I went to the garden with my grandma and helped her pull up onions, or gather leaf lettuce for our meal. We all loved wilted lettuce and Grandma made lots of that when we visited.
Once when my parents were here, Mother walked up to visit Mrs. Tripp. They went out into Mrs. Tripp’s garden and she gathered enough lettuce for Mother to bring home for our evening meal. Gayle started back home and Mother told her to go ahead and bring the lettuce and she would wilt it when she got here.
Upon her return, Mother saw the lettuce lying limp in the sink. When she questioned Gayle, the reply was, “Grandma, you said we would wilt it, so I put it in there and turned some hot water on it.”
Needless to say, it was wilted.
7-9-2009
#442
When July 4th has come and gone, I always feel like summer is at least half over. This does not mean that the heat index will automatically go down. However, the time before school begins again is peering through the curtains and before we know it, students will be loading up their supplies in backpacks and heading off to classes.
I wonder if other senior adults look back as I do and long for those lazy days of going barefoot, eating watermelon, and spending the afternoon in a pool? Those are some of my best childhood memories. Sitting on the old crank ice cream freezer was a chore we fought over, my sister, brother and I.
In my family we had certain responsibilities and these increased as we grew older, but the chores were fairly well equally divided so we did not feel that we were being put upon.
Mother decided early on that it was easier for her to do the cooking than for my sister or me to mess up the kitchen. We were assigned the duties of washing and drying the dishes after each meal.
I remember complaining about having to dry dishes at home, but often I went to our next-door neighbor’s and if she were doing dishes, I would pick up the dishtowel and begin drying her dishes. I still don’t understand why that did not seem to be a chore.
On really hot days, we girls did not stay out in the heat during the afternoons. The girls usually played jacks, or a board game such as checkers. Boys spent their time playing marbles, but were more likely to get out in the afternoon sun and play baseball, or kick ball.
Once the sun went down, we often times put an old quilt out on the lawn and lay on it watching stars twinkling in the sky. We enjoyed a game of Red Rover, Red Rover, or Hide ‘N Seek. Our parents did not have to worry about where we were because we were usually out in our own front yard.
During weeks when we spent time with our grandparents, we helped gather eggs, fed the chickens and put out water for them. I went to the garden with my grandma and helped her pull up onions, or gather leaf lettuce for our meal. We all loved wilted lettuce and Grandma made lots of that when we visited.
Once when my parents were here, Mother walked up to visit Mrs. Tripp. They went out into Mrs. Tripp’s garden and she gathered enough lettuce for Mother to bring home for our evening meal. Gayle started back home and Mother told her to go ahead and bring the lettuce and she would wilt it when she got here.
Upon her return, Mother saw the lettuce lying limp in the sink. When she questioned Gayle, the reply was, “Grandma, you said we would wilt it, so I put it in there and turned some hot water on it.”
Needless to say, it was wilted.
7-9-2009
#442
Thursday, June 18, 2009
So, What’s in your house?
One of the Wichita Falls television stations begins the evening news coverage with the question, “It’s ten o’clock, do you know where your children are?”
The questions I would ask you today are: Do you know what’s in your house, is it useful, if not, why is it still there?
For several weeks now, I’ve been searching for a certain bank statement. I put it somewhere so I would know exactly where it would be when I needed it, but I have come up short every place I’ve looked.
This is similar to my hiding Band-aids when my children were all little and then not being able to locate them when I needed one. If I left them in the medicine cabinet in plain sight, they soon disappeared. I often told Ray that we would be rich if we had invested in Johnson and Johnson.
But, losing the bank statement has not been all bad. In looking for this document, I’ve been forced to go through my file cabinet and toss out many old and unimportant papers. I’ve been on a roll, shredding some of the paperwork of long ago.
It’s surprising how fast things pile up in a house. I do not refer solely to paperwork, but to many other items. As a young mother, I sewed some for my children and could not resist buying fabric any time I came across some in a store.
Several years ago, I needed some storage space, so I went through all the materials that were still unused and moved them to a large plastic storage box. If Gayle still had time to sew, I would give them to her, but she is too busy for that right now
One of the drawbacks of going through all these records is that each one has to be read or examined in order not to dispose of something that is important. This, my friends, takes time.
Every so often, I find it necessary to go through my little basket where I keep my snail mail. This is a tedious job, because as sure as I throw away an envelope, I need that return address.
There are some things that I cannot part with; things such as baby clothes that my children wore and greeting cards I’ve received over many years. These are such cherished keepsakes, I simply can’t throw them out.
I have passed along to some of my children and grandchildren mother’s and grandma’s pieces of beautiful handwork, even though most of them are showing signs of age.
In her latter years, Mother would say, “I feel sorry for you all when I am gone—there is so much to go through.” She was exactly right. But we made it.
In reference to last week’s column regarding the overload of emails on my computer, maybe it did help some people. Two of my email friends sent me messages that they were going through and deleting large numbers of emails. It is so easy to read a message and leave it on the computer.
As of last night, I had eight unread messages on my computer and only about fifty all together. Sure beats that 17,000 I had on there earlier.
6-17-2009
#439
The questions I would ask you today are: Do you know what’s in your house, is it useful, if not, why is it still there?
For several weeks now, I’ve been searching for a certain bank statement. I put it somewhere so I would know exactly where it would be when I needed it, but I have come up short every place I’ve looked.
This is similar to my hiding Band-aids when my children were all little and then not being able to locate them when I needed one. If I left them in the medicine cabinet in plain sight, they soon disappeared. I often told Ray that we would be rich if we had invested in Johnson and Johnson.
But, losing the bank statement has not been all bad. In looking for this document, I’ve been forced to go through my file cabinet and toss out many old and unimportant papers. I’ve been on a roll, shredding some of the paperwork of long ago.
It’s surprising how fast things pile up in a house. I do not refer solely to paperwork, but to many other items. As a young mother, I sewed some for my children and could not resist buying fabric any time I came across some in a store.
Several years ago, I needed some storage space, so I went through all the materials that were still unused and moved them to a large plastic storage box. If Gayle still had time to sew, I would give them to her, but she is too busy for that right now
One of the drawbacks of going through all these records is that each one has to be read or examined in order not to dispose of something that is important. This, my friends, takes time.
Every so often, I find it necessary to go through my little basket where I keep my snail mail. This is a tedious job, because as sure as I throw away an envelope, I need that return address.
There are some things that I cannot part with; things such as baby clothes that my children wore and greeting cards I’ve received over many years. These are such cherished keepsakes, I simply can’t throw them out.
I have passed along to some of my children and grandchildren mother’s and grandma’s pieces of beautiful handwork, even though most of them are showing signs of age.
In her latter years, Mother would say, “I feel sorry for you all when I am gone—there is so much to go through.” She was exactly right. But we made it.
In reference to last week’s column regarding the overload of emails on my computer, maybe it did help some people. Two of my email friends sent me messages that they were going through and deleting large numbers of emails. It is so easy to read a message and leave it on the computer.
As of last night, I had eight unread messages on my computer and only about fifty all together. Sure beats that 17,000 I had on there earlier.
6-17-2009
#439
Friday, June 12, 2009
Battling an E-mail Overload
I guess it’s confession time for me. For several weeks recently I’ve been having problems with my computer. When I turned on the Outlook Express to receive my emails, the download would begin and sometimes go about halfway. Suddenly, I would get a message that my server had interrupted service for an unknown reason.
The really odd part was that I could still access my Internet Explorer successfully and my Facebook. This was so frustrating and I felt isolated, because I do use my computer to constantly stay in touch with friends and family.
Gayle had some instructions from AT&T that she thought might solve this problem. She stopped by briefly one afternoon and tried this method, but it did not help any. Finally, she came by another day and was checking out my programs when she looked at me and said, “Mother, did you know you have over 17,000 emails stored on here?”
I thought she was joking, but when I looked, there was the BIG number. She began deleting those messages and eventually got them all off. She said, “I bet everyone in Waurika who has the same server as you, will see remarkably better service now.”
Last week after all this had happened, we met several members of our family from the Dallas area for lunch and visiting. We met in Decatur, Texas. Of the nine who were there, I was the oldest. Everyone there, well most of them, was much younger than I am, and when Gayle told these computer-savvy persons what I had done, they could not believe it.
In addition to the large number of stored messages, more than 1900 of them were shown as “unread.” I knew I was far behind with checking my emails, but had no idea that I was so buried in unread messages. Since that time, I have been diligent about reading the new emails and deleting the ones I no longer need to keep.
When we had walked into the restaurant, people looked around and saw four women who had totally gray or white hair. I bet they probably thought it was “happy hour” for seniors. Of course, the younger ones did balance the group somewhat.
A niece in another town teaches computer to elementary grade children. A job she really enjoys. This summer she is teaching some kindergarten children to use the computer. She said one of the little boys in that class, took his thumb out of his mouth and said, “ I really wike computers.”
When Ray worked in Woodward, I volunteered in a transitional class. These were children who had already been through kindergarten, but were not mature enough to go on to first grade. One little boy who was somewhat of a behavioral problem, would really straighten up and change his behavior when the teacher would tell him, “Now Hoover, when you finish your assignment and if you obey the rules, then you can work at the computer.”
He was a fast learner because he was doing what he enjoyed doing. Wish I could learn as fast as these young ones do.
6-10-2009
#438
The really odd part was that I could still access my Internet Explorer successfully and my Facebook. This was so frustrating and I felt isolated, because I do use my computer to constantly stay in touch with friends and family.
Gayle had some instructions from AT&T that she thought might solve this problem. She stopped by briefly one afternoon and tried this method, but it did not help any. Finally, she came by another day and was checking out my programs when she looked at me and said, “Mother, did you know you have over 17,000 emails stored on here?”
I thought she was joking, but when I looked, there was the BIG number. She began deleting those messages and eventually got them all off. She said, “I bet everyone in Waurika who has the same server as you, will see remarkably better service now.”
Last week after all this had happened, we met several members of our family from the Dallas area for lunch and visiting. We met in Decatur, Texas. Of the nine who were there, I was the oldest. Everyone there, well most of them, was much younger than I am, and when Gayle told these computer-savvy persons what I had done, they could not believe it.
In addition to the large number of stored messages, more than 1900 of them were shown as “unread.” I knew I was far behind with checking my emails, but had no idea that I was so buried in unread messages. Since that time, I have been diligent about reading the new emails and deleting the ones I no longer need to keep.
When we had walked into the restaurant, people looked around and saw four women who had totally gray or white hair. I bet they probably thought it was “happy hour” for seniors. Of course, the younger ones did balance the group somewhat.
A niece in another town teaches computer to elementary grade children. A job she really enjoys. This summer she is teaching some kindergarten children to use the computer. She said one of the little boys in that class, took his thumb out of his mouth and said, “ I really wike computers.”
When Ray worked in Woodward, I volunteered in a transitional class. These were children who had already been through kindergarten, but were not mature enough to go on to first grade. One little boy who was somewhat of a behavioral problem, would really straighten up and change his behavior when the teacher would tell him, “Now Hoover, when you finish your assignment and if you obey the rules, then you can work at the computer.”
He was a fast learner because he was doing what he enjoyed doing. Wish I could learn as fast as these young ones do.
6-10-2009
#438
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Mother was One of a Kind
“She (or he) was one of a kind.” Have you ever said this about someone you knew? All of us are different in many ways, but some are different in such unique ways that they stand apart from the rest.
As I have aged, I’ve come to recognize the uniqueness of my mother. She
had such a rare sense of humor and loved to play practical jokes. Her parents rented bedrooms to travelers coming through Boyd. I remember Mother telling of some members of a baseball team staying overnight in their hotel/home. Mother and one of her girl friends went in the boys’ rooms while they were out and stitched the bottoms of their uniform pants. The boys came back in a big hurry to change into their uniforms to begin playing and found this complication.
My sister and I thought Mother was way too strict when we were teens. If we asked to go some place or do something and she refused, we would tell her that “everyone else is going.” Her reply, “If everyone else broke a leg, would you want a broken leg?”
It was comical the way she would shift our ages. If she asked us to do
something we thought was too hard, she would say, “You mean to tell me a big
sixteen year old can’t do that?” However, the next hour when we asked for some special privilege, she came back with, “Do you think I’m going to let a twelve year old go out alone.”
As most mothers, I suppose, she was the travel agent for guilt trips. If she learned that we had mistreated someone or been unkind, she would say, “How would you like to be treated that way?” I always preferred a switching to a verbal dressing down.
And, she was a charter member of the Mothers’ Worry Club. Mother worried about us if we were home or away, about the big things and the little things.
The really amazing thing about all this is that I find myself more like my mother every day. I catch myself saying some of her favorite things, and I even have some of the same opinions she had.
As Erma Bombeck said, “I put my arm in my sweater and out comes my
mother’s arm.” I don’t know if boys and their fathers have this same connection or not, but I hope I have inherited some of my mother’s best traits and characteristics.
I trust that she forgave me for my ungrateful and rebellious years.
6-03-2009
#437
As I have aged, I’ve come to recognize the uniqueness of my mother. She
had such a rare sense of humor and loved to play practical jokes. Her parents rented bedrooms to travelers coming through Boyd. I remember Mother telling of some members of a baseball team staying overnight in their hotel/home. Mother and one of her girl friends went in the boys’ rooms while they were out and stitched the bottoms of their uniform pants. The boys came back in a big hurry to change into their uniforms to begin playing and found this complication.
My sister and I thought Mother was way too strict when we were teens. If we asked to go some place or do something and she refused, we would tell her that “everyone else is going.” Her reply, “If everyone else broke a leg, would you want a broken leg?”
It was comical the way she would shift our ages. If she asked us to do
something we thought was too hard, she would say, “You mean to tell me a big
sixteen year old can’t do that?” However, the next hour when we asked for some special privilege, she came back with, “Do you think I’m going to let a twelve year old go out alone.”
As most mothers, I suppose, she was the travel agent for guilt trips. If she learned that we had mistreated someone or been unkind, she would say, “How would you like to be treated that way?” I always preferred a switching to a verbal dressing down.
And, she was a charter member of the Mothers’ Worry Club. Mother worried about us if we were home or away, about the big things and the little things.
The really amazing thing about all this is that I find myself more like my mother every day. I catch myself saying some of her favorite things, and I even have some of the same opinions she had.
As Erma Bombeck said, “I put my arm in my sweater and out comes my
mother’s arm.” I don’t know if boys and their fathers have this same connection or not, but I hope I have inherited some of my mother’s best traits and characteristics.
I trust that she forgave me for my ungrateful and rebellious years.
6-03-2009
#437
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Veterans Deserve Honors
Starr and I joined with other persons on Monday morning for the Memorial Day honoring of our veterans. The weather was perfect and the informal ceremony was quite impressive and touching. The mournful tones of Taps concluded the event.
From the time we first moved here in 1957, if I remember correctly, the American Legion or the Disabled American Veterans had a ceremony each year on Memorial Day. I’m not certain if the earlier ones were held at the flagpole in the cemetery, or if they were held elsewhere.
To me it is sad that so few of our older veterans are still living. I believe that both the two former military veterans’ organizations are no longer active here in Waurika.
My brother, a 29 year Marine Corps veteran reminded me of the celebrations of Decoration Day in the small town where our grandparents lived. It was usually on a Sunday and friends and family members gathered at the local cemetery. Long tables had been set up and they overflowed with good food. Much of this bounty came from home gardens and was very nutritious.
After we had eaten, there were usually some speeches, and some of the late arriving attendees took time to place flowers at the graves of their loved ones.
In our early years, I’m sure we just took this as a day to meet with other family members and enjoy a good meal. We did not realize the significance of this day.
In various locations of the United States Memorial Day had been observed since the end of the Civil War. However, in many places, this was Decoration Day. In 1967, this day was officially proclaimed as Memorial Day.
We must never forget that the blood of American military veterans is spread over many countries in Europe, as well as Korea and Vietnam, and other places too numerous to mention.
Our military personnel are now engaged in two wars. This requires them to leave their homes, families and friends to serve our country. How could we ever pay them back for these sacrifices? They deserve the best medical treatments, especially rehabilitation, this country can provide.
Although I do not think of my family as being “military’” my dad served in World War I, my husband and his two brothers served in WW II, as well as my brother who was in Korea and Vietnam, plus several other family members.
I am so proud of each of these family members who were willing to give their all for our freedom and welfare.
May God bless our veterans and those who protect us now.
5-27-09
#436
From the time we first moved here in 1957, if I remember correctly, the American Legion or the Disabled American Veterans had a ceremony each year on Memorial Day. I’m not certain if the earlier ones were held at the flagpole in the cemetery, or if they were held elsewhere.
To me it is sad that so few of our older veterans are still living. I believe that both the two former military veterans’ organizations are no longer active here in Waurika.
My brother, a 29 year Marine Corps veteran reminded me of the celebrations of Decoration Day in the small town where our grandparents lived. It was usually on a Sunday and friends and family members gathered at the local cemetery. Long tables had been set up and they overflowed with good food. Much of this bounty came from home gardens and was very nutritious.
After we had eaten, there were usually some speeches, and some of the late arriving attendees took time to place flowers at the graves of their loved ones.
In our early years, I’m sure we just took this as a day to meet with other family members and enjoy a good meal. We did not realize the significance of this day.
In various locations of the United States Memorial Day had been observed since the end of the Civil War. However, in many places, this was Decoration Day. In 1967, this day was officially proclaimed as Memorial Day.
We must never forget that the blood of American military veterans is spread over many countries in Europe, as well as Korea and Vietnam, and other places too numerous to mention.
Our military personnel are now engaged in two wars. This requires them to leave their homes, families and friends to serve our country. How could we ever pay them back for these sacrifices? They deserve the best medical treatments, especially rehabilitation, this country can provide.
Although I do not think of my family as being “military’” my dad served in World War I, my husband and his two brothers served in WW II, as well as my brother who was in Korea and Vietnam, plus several other family members.
I am so proud of each of these family members who were willing to give their all for our freedom and welfare.
May God bless our veterans and those who protect us now.
5-27-09
#436
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Admiring Creativity of Past
As we celebrated Mother’s Day recently, I was reminded of all the beautiful handwork projects created by the women in my life during my childhood. It seems that few women of today continue to pursue these interests. Possibly this is because so many women now have to supplement the family income by working outside the home. Some women are the sole breadwinners and provide the only income in the family.
As I was growing up, it seemed to me that all the women had some sort of work in their hands whenever they were sitting down. The creative possibilities of that generation were endless. In the evenings or whenever my mother sat down, she most usually had something in her hands that she was working on. She might be darning a pair of socks (who does that now?), sewing on a button or embroidering a pillowcase.
However, Mother did crochet and often sat with yarn in her lap while she crocheted an afghan or perhaps a baby cap or sweater. I loved to watch her with her thin metal needle or sometimes a large wooden crochet needle. All this depended on what she was making and what type of thread or yarn she was using.
I still have some pillowcases that my dad’s mother made. Most of Grandma Stephens’ projects were fancy and colorful. In making the pillowcases she had cut out a portion from the hem up into the case itself and had filled in that space with crocheted bells. They are beautiful and I’m sure making them was a very tedious job. She did seem to enjoy using her hands for projects such as this.
My grandma also tatted some. I remember watching that little white shuttle as she flicked it in and out and came up with a stitch. Mother often did hemstitching on various garments. She made gingham aprons and hemstitched them. To me, the most difficult and exacting work was doing cutwork on a tablecloth or maybe a smaller item.
As far as I can remember I do not recall anyone in my family knitting. A left-handed friend of mine tried to teach me to knit once. I simply could not follow her directions. She kept telling me that it was very simple, but I did not find it so.
When the new fancy sewing machines first appeared on the market, another friend purchased one. She was an excellent seamstress and I was in awe of all the decorative stitching she did on the dresses for her two little girls. The collars had zigzag designs on them and they were just precious.
My efforts at sewing were a little less successful than those of my friends. A friend gave me a pattern for overalls for little boys and I decided that I would make some for David. Not knowing that corduroy had to be cut with the nap going the same way, the overalls looked as if the material were two different colors. In addition, I had to rip the seams so many times, all the nap was worn off by the time I finished them.
Over the years, I did learn to do a little better, even though most of my garments looked homemade rather than handmade.
5-20-2009
#435
As I was growing up, it seemed to me that all the women had some sort of work in their hands whenever they were sitting down. The creative possibilities of that generation were endless. In the evenings or whenever my mother sat down, she most usually had something in her hands that she was working on. She might be darning a pair of socks (who does that now?), sewing on a button or embroidering a pillowcase.
However, Mother did crochet and often sat with yarn in her lap while she crocheted an afghan or perhaps a baby cap or sweater. I loved to watch her with her thin metal needle or sometimes a large wooden crochet needle. All this depended on what she was making and what type of thread or yarn she was using.
I still have some pillowcases that my dad’s mother made. Most of Grandma Stephens’ projects were fancy and colorful. In making the pillowcases she had cut out a portion from the hem up into the case itself and had filled in that space with crocheted bells. They are beautiful and I’m sure making them was a very tedious job. She did seem to enjoy using her hands for projects such as this.
My grandma also tatted some. I remember watching that little white shuttle as she flicked it in and out and came up with a stitch. Mother often did hemstitching on various garments. She made gingham aprons and hemstitched them. To me, the most difficult and exacting work was doing cutwork on a tablecloth or maybe a smaller item.
As far as I can remember I do not recall anyone in my family knitting. A left-handed friend of mine tried to teach me to knit once. I simply could not follow her directions. She kept telling me that it was very simple, but I did not find it so.
When the new fancy sewing machines first appeared on the market, another friend purchased one. She was an excellent seamstress and I was in awe of all the decorative stitching she did on the dresses for her two little girls. The collars had zigzag designs on them and they were just precious.
My efforts at sewing were a little less successful than those of my friends. A friend gave me a pattern for overalls for little boys and I decided that I would make some for David. Not knowing that corduroy had to be cut with the nap going the same way, the overalls looked as if the material were two different colors. In addition, I had to rip the seams so many times, all the nap was worn off by the time I finished them.
Over the years, I did learn to do a little better, even though most of my garments looked homemade rather than handmade.
5-20-2009
#435
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Some Light on the Subject
“Let there be rain,” and the rains came, abundantly. “Let there be light,” but no light appeared. The best laid plans of mice and men…you know the rest of this.
Sunday morning when I wakened and looked over at the clock with the large, lighted numbers, I noticed the face of the clock was black. Uh oh, I thought, something is wrong. I switched my bed lamp on, but the room was still dark.
When I went in the kitchen, Starr said, “Mother, I’ve already called the electric company about the power outage.”
I found it puzzling because I had not heard any thunder or seen any lightning during the night. I figured the power would come on in a few minutes.
Whenever any of the utility services are out, all I can think of is doing something that requires that particular service. Are you the same way?
As is my custom, I walked over to the coffee pot. Yes, there was coffee, but it was cold. I have a thing about cold coffee. It’s not for me.
The Sunday paper was lying on the table where Starr had placed it, but the room was much too dark to try to read it. I moved from room to room and each time I found myself clicking on the light switch, but no light came on.
When the water has been cut off for repairs or whatever reason, all I want to do is wash my hands or clean the sink, or some chore that requires water.
The family had been invited to daughter Gayle’s house for Mother’s Day dinner at noon. I remarked that it was a good thing Gayle cooks with gas because the rest of us use electricity. However, Gayle could not use her oven because it has the electric ignition.
We do tend to take all the modern conveniences for granted and normally do not even think about them until we are without that service.
One summer while our house was being built, we were living in the country. During that time, we hauled our drinking water in from town. The motor on the electric pump that provided the water we used for other things went out. My brother, his wife and four children had come to spend the night with us. We had no water.
If memory serves me right, we used some of our drinking water in the bathtub and had the children to get in, one by one, and wash their feet. My sister-in-law who grew up in the country said, “This really reminds me of home, when I was growing up.”
It’s a shame we don’t recognize how fortunate we are to be able to enjoy these services we have today, and to be grateful for them. I doubt that many would want to go back to the days of having to draw water from a well, or use kerosene lamps and wood stoves.
As thankful as I am for the beneficial rains, I would like a short period of drying out, so I can get my yard mowed. Prior to the rains, I did not have any grass to mow, then since the rains began, it’s been too wet to mow.
5-13-09
#434
Sunday morning when I wakened and looked over at the clock with the large, lighted numbers, I noticed the face of the clock was black. Uh oh, I thought, something is wrong. I switched my bed lamp on, but the room was still dark.
When I went in the kitchen, Starr said, “Mother, I’ve already called the electric company about the power outage.”
I found it puzzling because I had not heard any thunder or seen any lightning during the night. I figured the power would come on in a few minutes.
Whenever any of the utility services are out, all I can think of is doing something that requires that particular service. Are you the same way?
As is my custom, I walked over to the coffee pot. Yes, there was coffee, but it was cold. I have a thing about cold coffee. It’s not for me.
The Sunday paper was lying on the table where Starr had placed it, but the room was much too dark to try to read it. I moved from room to room and each time I found myself clicking on the light switch, but no light came on.
When the water has been cut off for repairs or whatever reason, all I want to do is wash my hands or clean the sink, or some chore that requires water.
The family had been invited to daughter Gayle’s house for Mother’s Day dinner at noon. I remarked that it was a good thing Gayle cooks with gas because the rest of us use electricity. However, Gayle could not use her oven because it has the electric ignition.
We do tend to take all the modern conveniences for granted and normally do not even think about them until we are without that service.
One summer while our house was being built, we were living in the country. During that time, we hauled our drinking water in from town. The motor on the electric pump that provided the water we used for other things went out. My brother, his wife and four children had come to spend the night with us. We had no water.
If memory serves me right, we used some of our drinking water in the bathtub and had the children to get in, one by one, and wash their feet. My sister-in-law who grew up in the country said, “This really reminds me of home, when I was growing up.”
It’s a shame we don’t recognize how fortunate we are to be able to enjoy these services we have today, and to be grateful for them. I doubt that many would want to go back to the days of having to draw water from a well, or use kerosene lamps and wood stoves.
As thankful as I am for the beneficial rains, I would like a short period of drying out, so I can get my yard mowed. Prior to the rains, I did not have any grass to mow, then since the rains began, it’s been too wet to mow.
5-13-09
#434
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Staying in Touch a Nice Gift
Several weeks ago both my brother and my sister who live in the Dallas area sent me messages regarding the 80th anniversary of our high school, Woodrow Wilson. This information was published in the April 24, 2009 issue of The Dallas Morning News.
Scheduled for the Saturday morning celebration was a pep rally followed by a parade. Grand marshal of the parade was to be Carroll Shelby, the legendary racecar driver and creator of the Shelby Cobra and Shelby Mustang.
Shelby graduated in 1940, two years prior to my graduation. I thought what a grand event this was, although many from the classes of that time would no longer be around to join in the celebration. In addition, twenty new inductees into the school’s hall of fame were to be honored.
I have never been fortunate enough to return to Dallas for any of the previous anniversaries or reunions. A friend who lives in the Dallas area offered to take me to the 65th reunion of our class of 1942 back in 2007,but it didn’t work out for me.
I seriously doubt that I would recognize very many of those who are still able to join in the activities of that class, and likely there would be even fewer who would recognize me.
We are still fortunate enough to have a class newsletter published periodically with lots of news items and photos. The first time I received this newsletter, I was shocked to see that most of those photos were of persons with gray hair and wearing glasses.
Just like me, I thought. I did not feel quite so bad.
Since Starr has been home and has gotten in touch with her friends and schoolmates, she has joined in helping organize a 40th school reunion of her class. Many phone calls in connection with this planned event have been made, as well as email messages.
Searching old school yearbooks for students’ names helps to locate some of these friends, but that does not always work.
I find it strange that so many of the graduates who still live here do not attend the reunions of their classes or the all school reunions. If for no other reason, I think they would want to come out of curiosity and check on the ones who live in other places.
It seems to me that it would be much easier to locate these missing students because the senior classes are so much smaller, but if they move away and do not keep in touch with friends or relatives in their hometowns, then it’s still a difficult chore to locate some of them.
A number of young men from the more than 500 students in my senior class were killed during World War II. Many of them went directly from high school to military service, and never returned.
Some persons from my high school classes are no longer able to attend these events, but the fact that the editor of our class newsletter is still interested enough to keep us in touch is an outstanding gift to all of us.
5-6-2009
#433
Scheduled for the Saturday morning celebration was a pep rally followed by a parade. Grand marshal of the parade was to be Carroll Shelby, the legendary racecar driver and creator of the Shelby Cobra and Shelby Mustang.
Shelby graduated in 1940, two years prior to my graduation. I thought what a grand event this was, although many from the classes of that time would no longer be around to join in the celebration. In addition, twenty new inductees into the school’s hall of fame were to be honored.
I have never been fortunate enough to return to Dallas for any of the previous anniversaries or reunions. A friend who lives in the Dallas area offered to take me to the 65th reunion of our class of 1942 back in 2007,but it didn’t work out for me.
I seriously doubt that I would recognize very many of those who are still able to join in the activities of that class, and likely there would be even fewer who would recognize me.
We are still fortunate enough to have a class newsletter published periodically with lots of news items and photos. The first time I received this newsletter, I was shocked to see that most of those photos were of persons with gray hair and wearing glasses.
Just like me, I thought. I did not feel quite so bad.
Since Starr has been home and has gotten in touch with her friends and schoolmates, she has joined in helping organize a 40th school reunion of her class. Many phone calls in connection with this planned event have been made, as well as email messages.
Searching old school yearbooks for students’ names helps to locate some of these friends, but that does not always work.
I find it strange that so many of the graduates who still live here do not attend the reunions of their classes or the all school reunions. If for no other reason, I think they would want to come out of curiosity and check on the ones who live in other places.
It seems to me that it would be much easier to locate these missing students because the senior classes are so much smaller, but if they move away and do not keep in touch with friends or relatives in their hometowns, then it’s still a difficult chore to locate some of them.
A number of young men from the more than 500 students in my senior class were killed during World War II. Many of them went directly from high school to military service, and never returned.
Some persons from my high school classes are no longer able to attend these events, but the fact that the editor of our class newsletter is still interested enough to keep us in touch is an outstanding gift to all of us.
5-6-2009
#433
Thursday, April 23, 2009
E-mail Is Yesterday’s V-Mail
I’ve decided if I ever write my autobiography that I would title it, “From V-Mail to E-Mail.” Actually that would not be correct since I was here a while before V-Mail, and I expect that E-Mail will be here long after I am gone.
Thinking about all the changes that have occurred during that time frame is difficult to comprehend. Who would ever have thought we would have cellular phones today that take pictures, and that people can use to play games?
Understanding V-Mail is likely as foreign to the younger generation as E-Mail is to some of us in our senior years. V-Mail was a form of correspondence using stationery that could be purchased at the five and ten cent stores or at the post office. Both the military and the civilian population used this type of letters, which took much less time to deliver.
The sheets of paper were very thin and it has been reported that 1,700 V-Mail letters could fit into a cigarette packet.
Often times a section of the letters would be cut out, or possibly blacked out. Anything that might breach security was eliminated.
Surely I was born in the wrong generation, because I can still remember the three-cent stamp and a penny postcard. In Dallas we received two home deliveries of mail five days a week. On Saturdays, the mailman came once a day, and of course, no delivery on Sundays.
My niece recently sent me a copy of the schedule of price increases in mail delivery effective May 11. A regular stamp for mailing a letter will increase to 44 cents.
We have been reading and hearing of many newspapers that have discontinued publication due to rising expenses. My brother had a paper route in Dallas while he was in school. He delivered The Times Herald, which was the afternoon paper, while The Dallas Morning News was delivered in the morning.
Some years ago, The Times Herald discontinued publication. During the time my brother was a “paper boy”, the weekly cost of delivery was fifteen cents per week, or 65 cents a month.
Commenting on the increase of postage rates, my brother said he had been paying $57 per three months for The Dallas Morning News, but when he received his new bill last week, the price had increased to $90 per month.
In high school, newspapers were provided for us to read in our journalism class. We were expected to comment on the style and content of these papers. That is when I learned to appreciate the editorial columns and enjoy the views of the various authors. Before that, I only read the comic section.
Sometimes it seems that we are drowning in news on television, but news from different sources and different reporters is likely to give us a more balanced view at what is reported.
I suppose too many of us take our postal service and the newspapers for granted and assume they will always be available. In the past few years, I have come to believe the saying, “The pen is mightier than the sword.”
4-22-2009
#431
Thinking about all the changes that have occurred during that time frame is difficult to comprehend. Who would ever have thought we would have cellular phones today that take pictures, and that people can use to play games?
Understanding V-Mail is likely as foreign to the younger generation as E-Mail is to some of us in our senior years. V-Mail was a form of correspondence using stationery that could be purchased at the five and ten cent stores or at the post office. Both the military and the civilian population used this type of letters, which took much less time to deliver.
The sheets of paper were very thin and it has been reported that 1,700 V-Mail letters could fit into a cigarette packet.
Often times a section of the letters would be cut out, or possibly blacked out. Anything that might breach security was eliminated.
Surely I was born in the wrong generation, because I can still remember the three-cent stamp and a penny postcard. In Dallas we received two home deliveries of mail five days a week. On Saturdays, the mailman came once a day, and of course, no delivery on Sundays.
My niece recently sent me a copy of the schedule of price increases in mail delivery effective May 11. A regular stamp for mailing a letter will increase to 44 cents.
We have been reading and hearing of many newspapers that have discontinued publication due to rising expenses. My brother had a paper route in Dallas while he was in school. He delivered The Times Herald, which was the afternoon paper, while The Dallas Morning News was delivered in the morning.
Some years ago, The Times Herald discontinued publication. During the time my brother was a “paper boy”, the weekly cost of delivery was fifteen cents per week, or 65 cents a month.
Commenting on the increase of postage rates, my brother said he had been paying $57 per three months for The Dallas Morning News, but when he received his new bill last week, the price had increased to $90 per month.
In high school, newspapers were provided for us to read in our journalism class. We were expected to comment on the style and content of these papers. That is when I learned to appreciate the editorial columns and enjoy the views of the various authors. Before that, I only read the comic section.
Sometimes it seems that we are drowning in news on television, but news from different sources and different reporters is likely to give us a more balanced view at what is reported.
I suppose too many of us take our postal service and the newspapers for granted and assume they will always be available. In the past few years, I have come to believe the saying, “The pen is mightier than the sword.”
4-22-2009
#431
Friday, April 17, 2009
Cooking Is All in the Recipe
I haven’t a clue what subjects men talk about when they gather in a group. However, one subject that comes up quite often when women get together is recipes.
One of my friends says, “Where two or three are gathered together, there will be a casserole.” And of course, these casseroles must have a recipe.
A sister-in-law of my sister sold Tupperware for many years. Tupperware was shown and sold at parties in the homes of women who received some sort of bonus gift for hosting the party. Usually, a dessert was served at some point during this get-together.
My sister often told me about some of the delicacies that she learned from her relative. The now famous Hershey Cake recipe was passed on to me from my sister. Anytime my children were called on to provide a dessert for a fundraiser at school, they would request that I make a Hershey cake. Most of the time, these cakes were already spoken for by the time I put the cake in the oven.
Several years ago I got the urge to make one of these cakes. I found a problem when I tried to find five-cent Hershey bars that were called for in the recipe. I think I finally found the equivalent of eight five-cent bars that the recipe recommended.
Another favorite for school functions was homemade glazed donuts. The county agent’s wife had given me the recipe for these and I made good use of it. This chore went much easier when two persons were working together on it. Deep frying the donuts and then dipping them in the glaze required haste and teamwork, if they were to turn out well.
One good source of new recipes is at benefit dinners or potluck meals at church.
For several years I’ve gotten one or two new recipes at the noon meals served during Holy Week. These gatherings, sponsored by the local ministerial alliance, are scheduled so that a different church is responsible for the meal and the message each day during that week.
When the Baptist church had the meal and the service on Monday last week, I ate a sandwich of the most delicious pimento cheese that I have ever tasted. This sandwich filling was so smooth and rich, I’m sure that I received my entire calorie requirement for the day in that one sandwich half.
We also obtained the recipe for the outstanding potato-cheese soup that was served on Tuesday. We tried it out over the weekend and I told Starr I thought I could eat that everyday.
I still have many of my mother’s recipes that had been passed down from her mother. The problem with some of these is the lack of specific measurements of ingredients. Instead of ‘a teaspoon of soda’, the recipes often called for ‘a pinch of soda.’ Sometimes a little tweaking was required in the recipes.
One of the foster children who lived with our family for several years often went to her grandmother’s for the weekend. She came back on Sunday afternoon and would tell me about making a lemon pie at her grandma’s house. She would add, “Grandma didn’t have any lemons, so I just used cocoa and we had chocolate pie instead.”
She knew how to get the job done.
4-15-2009
#430
One of my friends says, “Where two or three are gathered together, there will be a casserole.” And of course, these casseroles must have a recipe.
A sister-in-law of my sister sold Tupperware for many years. Tupperware was shown and sold at parties in the homes of women who received some sort of bonus gift for hosting the party. Usually, a dessert was served at some point during this get-together.
My sister often told me about some of the delicacies that she learned from her relative. The now famous Hershey Cake recipe was passed on to me from my sister. Anytime my children were called on to provide a dessert for a fundraiser at school, they would request that I make a Hershey cake. Most of the time, these cakes were already spoken for by the time I put the cake in the oven.
Several years ago I got the urge to make one of these cakes. I found a problem when I tried to find five-cent Hershey bars that were called for in the recipe. I think I finally found the equivalent of eight five-cent bars that the recipe recommended.
Another favorite for school functions was homemade glazed donuts. The county agent’s wife had given me the recipe for these and I made good use of it. This chore went much easier when two persons were working together on it. Deep frying the donuts and then dipping them in the glaze required haste and teamwork, if they were to turn out well.
One good source of new recipes is at benefit dinners or potluck meals at church.
For several years I’ve gotten one or two new recipes at the noon meals served during Holy Week. These gatherings, sponsored by the local ministerial alliance, are scheduled so that a different church is responsible for the meal and the message each day during that week.
When the Baptist church had the meal and the service on Monday last week, I ate a sandwich of the most delicious pimento cheese that I have ever tasted. This sandwich filling was so smooth and rich, I’m sure that I received my entire calorie requirement for the day in that one sandwich half.
We also obtained the recipe for the outstanding potato-cheese soup that was served on Tuesday. We tried it out over the weekend and I told Starr I thought I could eat that everyday.
I still have many of my mother’s recipes that had been passed down from her mother. The problem with some of these is the lack of specific measurements of ingredients. Instead of ‘a teaspoon of soda’, the recipes often called for ‘a pinch of soda.’ Sometimes a little tweaking was required in the recipes.
One of the foster children who lived with our family for several years often went to her grandmother’s for the weekend. She came back on Sunday afternoon and would tell me about making a lemon pie at her grandma’s house. She would add, “Grandma didn’t have any lemons, so I just used cocoa and we had chocolate pie instead.”
She knew how to get the job done.
4-15-2009
#430
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Farmers Deserve to Grumble
Many people are becoming more pessimistic now that April has arrived and we still have not received the rains we need.
Growing up in a large city, I never thought much about the necessity of rain to produce food, fill the lakes and ponds and keep the earth green and lush. When it rained, we wore our raincoats and galoshes to school and that was it.
My husband grew up on a farm and understood about the need for moisture on a regular basis and how the people and the land suffered when rain was not available.
After Ray and I were married, I learned about the urgent need for moisture to produce vegetables and fruits, and to provide water for livestock and other animals. One aspect of this situation that had escaped me, was the need for rain to prevent and douse fires. This season has culminated in many damaging fires with the loss of lives, homes, businesses and in its wake, has left thousands of acres of scorched land.
When I was confronted with some of these facts, I recognized the truth in one of Ray’s favorite sayings: Farming is the greatest gamble on earth. Farmers are unable to control the weather and the price they will receive when marketing their products, whether cattle or vegetables.
If prices are high when farmers plant, then the crop costs more to produce. This happens frequently and then the price drops when the producer is ready to sell.
I do believe that few persons have a true appreciation for those who raise our food. If the price of food goes up, we complain that we can’t afford to buy those products. Rarely does the farmer benefit by a raise in the price of his crops.
My only experience of living on a farm was during my childhood when I spent time with my grandparents. My maternal grandparents lived in a very small town in Texas. I remember going into the garden with my Grandma and helping her pull up green onions and gathering some tomatoes for our evening meal.
She also allowed me to help her gather the eggs from the henhouse in the late afternoons. I never was allowed to milk the cow, not that I wanted to, but I spent many hours watching my grandpa milk their big Jersey cow.
My other grandparents actually lived out in the country, just a few miles from the town where Mother’s parents lived. My dad’s folks raised most of the food they consumed. In addition to raising vegetables, they killed hogs in the winter to provide bacon, ham and sausage for the family.
Watching my Grandma Stephens sit in her cane-bottom chair while churning milk into butter and buttermilk was a fascinating event for me.
As a small child, I was delighted when my grandma told me about the time she was churning and had to leave the kitchen for a short period of time. When she returned, she said my dad had put his little black puppy in the churn and every few seconds the puppy would jump up with his head just above the rim of the churn. She said the puppy had bits of butter all on his head and face.
Apparently, my dad just stood there watching the scene, while laughing all the time.
4-8-2009
#429
Growing up in a large city, I never thought much about the necessity of rain to produce food, fill the lakes and ponds and keep the earth green and lush. When it rained, we wore our raincoats and galoshes to school and that was it.
My husband grew up on a farm and understood about the need for moisture on a regular basis and how the people and the land suffered when rain was not available.
After Ray and I were married, I learned about the urgent need for moisture to produce vegetables and fruits, and to provide water for livestock and other animals. One aspect of this situation that had escaped me, was the need for rain to prevent and douse fires. This season has culminated in many damaging fires with the loss of lives, homes, businesses and in its wake, has left thousands of acres of scorched land.
When I was confronted with some of these facts, I recognized the truth in one of Ray’s favorite sayings: Farming is the greatest gamble on earth. Farmers are unable to control the weather and the price they will receive when marketing their products, whether cattle or vegetables.
If prices are high when farmers plant, then the crop costs more to produce. This happens frequently and then the price drops when the producer is ready to sell.
I do believe that few persons have a true appreciation for those who raise our food. If the price of food goes up, we complain that we can’t afford to buy those products. Rarely does the farmer benefit by a raise in the price of his crops.
My only experience of living on a farm was during my childhood when I spent time with my grandparents. My maternal grandparents lived in a very small town in Texas. I remember going into the garden with my Grandma and helping her pull up green onions and gathering some tomatoes for our evening meal.
She also allowed me to help her gather the eggs from the henhouse in the late afternoons. I never was allowed to milk the cow, not that I wanted to, but I spent many hours watching my grandpa milk their big Jersey cow.
My other grandparents actually lived out in the country, just a few miles from the town where Mother’s parents lived. My dad’s folks raised most of the food they consumed. In addition to raising vegetables, they killed hogs in the winter to provide bacon, ham and sausage for the family.
Watching my Grandma Stephens sit in her cane-bottom chair while churning milk into butter and buttermilk was a fascinating event for me.
As a small child, I was delighted when my grandma told me about the time she was churning and had to leave the kitchen for a short period of time. When she returned, she said my dad had put his little black puppy in the churn and every few seconds the puppy would jump up with his head just above the rim of the churn. She said the puppy had bits of butter all on his head and face.
Apparently, my dad just stood there watching the scene, while laughing all the time.
4-8-2009
#429
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The Science of Procrastination
As my family and most of my friends know, I am a professional procrastinator. No doubt about it. Even so, I sometimes get ambitious to clean and organize my closets, drawers, cabinets and all other storage facilities in my home. However, it’s much easier to just think about what needs to be done than it is to get busy and do them.
A few weeks ago I heard of the county extension department’s scheduled upcoming session on procrastination and I thought ‘this is my chance. Perhaps I will be inspired if I attend this meeting.’ In fact I already had plans to give information in this column regarding the things I learned. You know, give the rest of the world the benefit of my newfound knowledge. So, I called and made reservations to attend.
However, as sometimes happens, something else more urgent happened in the meantime. Harold’s father-in-law passed away and the memorial service for him was set for the same day as the workshop. The service was held in Wichita Falls and with the threatening severe weather, Starr and I decided we should leave here early and that meant missing the meeting.
But, somehow over the weekend, I got the bug to begin changing the cluttered condition of my home, at least to make a genuine start. Sunday afternoon while we watched the basketball games, Starr and I took a drawer from the bureau and unloaded it on the dining table. After taking everything out of that drawer, we began to reorganize the contents. It always seems that no matter how much I discard, I usually end up with more to put back than I took out.
I must admit after the drawer was put back into the chest of drawers, it looked so good I just wanted to stand and look at it.
While the juices were still flowing, I was compelled to move on to another drawer. This dresser drawer was filled to overflowing with face powder, rouge, lipstick, tools for nail care, perfume and various other things.
Apparently, I was a wee bit over-ambitious because the drawer with all its previous contents, is still sitting on the dining table here on Monday morning.
Starr said she thought some of the things in that drawer had probably been around since she was in high school. I think that the core of my problem is that I am a packrat. One of my children often asks me, “Mom. are you still saving this?
My reply, ”Yes, I might need it one of these days.”
The rubber bands I’ve hoarded all these years have finally gone bad and break when I try to use them.
While Starr was searching in a cabinet recently, she found a small wooden board with a pad of tan paper attached. On the paper are the words: THINGS I’VE GOT TO DO SOMETIME.
An adaptation of a saying by Robert Burns in “To a Mouse,” is: The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
Sometimes those plans can be revived or changed, but then other times it’s best to just let them go and start afresh.
4-1-2009
#428
A few weeks ago I heard of the county extension department’s scheduled upcoming session on procrastination and I thought ‘this is my chance. Perhaps I will be inspired if I attend this meeting.’ In fact I already had plans to give information in this column regarding the things I learned. You know, give the rest of the world the benefit of my newfound knowledge. So, I called and made reservations to attend.
However, as sometimes happens, something else more urgent happened in the meantime. Harold’s father-in-law passed away and the memorial service for him was set for the same day as the workshop. The service was held in Wichita Falls and with the threatening severe weather, Starr and I decided we should leave here early and that meant missing the meeting.
But, somehow over the weekend, I got the bug to begin changing the cluttered condition of my home, at least to make a genuine start. Sunday afternoon while we watched the basketball games, Starr and I took a drawer from the bureau and unloaded it on the dining table. After taking everything out of that drawer, we began to reorganize the contents. It always seems that no matter how much I discard, I usually end up with more to put back than I took out.
I must admit after the drawer was put back into the chest of drawers, it looked so good I just wanted to stand and look at it.
While the juices were still flowing, I was compelled to move on to another drawer. This dresser drawer was filled to overflowing with face powder, rouge, lipstick, tools for nail care, perfume and various other things.
Apparently, I was a wee bit over-ambitious because the drawer with all its previous contents, is still sitting on the dining table here on Monday morning.
Starr said she thought some of the things in that drawer had probably been around since she was in high school. I think that the core of my problem is that I am a packrat. One of my children often asks me, “Mom. are you still saving this?
My reply, ”Yes, I might need it one of these days.”
The rubber bands I’ve hoarded all these years have finally gone bad and break when I try to use them.
While Starr was searching in a cabinet recently, she found a small wooden board with a pad of tan paper attached. On the paper are the words: THINGS I’VE GOT TO DO SOMETIME.
An adaptation of a saying by Robert Burns in “To a Mouse,” is: The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
Sometimes those plans can be revived or changed, but then other times it’s best to just let them go and start afresh.
4-1-2009
#428
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Life’s Too Short to Stay Home
Sometimes as we grow older, we are content to stay home and miss out on some of all the opportunities life affords us. The effort to get up and dress is too much. However, I have come to realize that if we don’t avail ourselves of the chance to enjoy life, then we miss out on what could have been our best times.
Last week was just such a week. By the end of the week, my batteries had completely run down. To be more specific, I was on the run most of the week, well not exactly a run, but a brisk walk. It takes a few days for me to rev myself up again, but gradually I find I’m ready to go again.
At Christmas I received gift certificates for lunch for six persons at the tearoom just out of Terral, Oklahoma, a small town on Red River. Did you know there is a tearoom there? I certainly did not. This must be one of the best kept secrets of Jefferson County, or perhaps I’m not in the “with it” crowd.
Trying to line up five other women to commit to taking a day to go out of town was no easy task. Because one of my daughters-in-law is a schoolteacher and I wanted her to be able to go with us, we selected a day during spring break.
I found much pleasure in having my two daughters, Starr and Gayle, plus my two daughters-in-law, Terrye and Gisele, and my good neighbor Hellen to all be available to go on Wednesday. I had called the tearoom hostess earlier and made reservations for our lunch.
The location in the country is so quiet and peaceful. The home where we went was unique and beautiful. Of course, the food was delicious. This is truly a neat place to go and so unusual.
We stayed and visited after our dessert and coffee and I think every one of us was reluctant to leave.
Then on Saturday we had relatives come to visit us. Ray’s brother and a daughter, both of Hugo, another daughter from Florida, and my sister-in-law from Durant all came. David and my favorite son-in-law Don stopped by and had lunch with us and stayed to visit a while.
One of the nieces had brought a photo album and we took turns passing it around so all could see. We talked about old times, back when these cousins were children growing up and some of the antics they pulled.
While everyone was visiting, I thought how sad that they see each other so seldom. When I was a child, I saw most of my cousins at least once a month, sometimes much more often. A person would think with all the modern modes of transportation now, that relatives could find a way to get together more often. Why don’t we manage to visit each other on a regular basis? I guess we could chalk that up to being too busy.
Life is much too short to miss the chance to enjoy the company of others, especially family and friends. I vowed that from now on, I’m game for most anything as long as it is not illegal, immoral, or fattening.
3-25-2009
#427
Last week was just such a week. By the end of the week, my batteries had completely run down. To be more specific, I was on the run most of the week, well not exactly a run, but a brisk walk. It takes a few days for me to rev myself up again, but gradually I find I’m ready to go again.
At Christmas I received gift certificates for lunch for six persons at the tearoom just out of Terral, Oklahoma, a small town on Red River. Did you know there is a tearoom there? I certainly did not. This must be one of the best kept secrets of Jefferson County, or perhaps I’m not in the “with it” crowd.
Trying to line up five other women to commit to taking a day to go out of town was no easy task. Because one of my daughters-in-law is a schoolteacher and I wanted her to be able to go with us, we selected a day during spring break.
I found much pleasure in having my two daughters, Starr and Gayle, plus my two daughters-in-law, Terrye and Gisele, and my good neighbor Hellen to all be available to go on Wednesday. I had called the tearoom hostess earlier and made reservations for our lunch.
The location in the country is so quiet and peaceful. The home where we went was unique and beautiful. Of course, the food was delicious. This is truly a neat place to go and so unusual.
We stayed and visited after our dessert and coffee and I think every one of us was reluctant to leave.
Then on Saturday we had relatives come to visit us. Ray’s brother and a daughter, both of Hugo, another daughter from Florida, and my sister-in-law from Durant all came. David and my favorite son-in-law Don stopped by and had lunch with us and stayed to visit a while.
One of the nieces had brought a photo album and we took turns passing it around so all could see. We talked about old times, back when these cousins were children growing up and some of the antics they pulled.
While everyone was visiting, I thought how sad that they see each other so seldom. When I was a child, I saw most of my cousins at least once a month, sometimes much more often. A person would think with all the modern modes of transportation now, that relatives could find a way to get together more often. Why don’t we manage to visit each other on a regular basis? I guess we could chalk that up to being too busy.
Life is much too short to miss the chance to enjoy the company of others, especially family and friends. I vowed that from now on, I’m game for most anything as long as it is not illegal, immoral, or fattening.
3-25-2009
#427
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Strange Lingo in Sports World
According to my calendar Friday this week is the first day of spring. With the days of colder temperatures, it seems that flowers and fruit trees are not blooming as early as usual. I am beginning to see some blooms on a few trees, but not a lot.
Along with this season transition, we find many activities that are prevalent now. Many churches have pre-Easter observances, schools in this area are in spring break, and of course, there is “March Madness,” with all the excitement of basketball playoffs.
Starr and I have watched the Big 12 boys and girls’ games, at least those that were televised in our area. So many of the games have been nip and tuck, right down to the last buzzer.
When I was in school, my family never attended any sort of athletic games. The high school football games were played clear across town from where I lived. Since we only had one automobile, and Daddy used that for work, we had no way of going unless we rode a bus and that involved transferring to a second bus. Consequently, I knew very little about football or basketball either.
Both our boys, David and Harold, participated in the athletic programs here in Waurika. So, our family attended all of their games; at least we tried to be there.
One year when David was playing football in high school, my parents were visiting us and we took them to the game being played here. At one point, Mother turned to me and asked, “Which inning is this?”
The girls played basketball some, but for them it was not as serious as it was for the boys.
Back then and even now, there are so many things regarding these two forms of athletics that I do not understand. For instance, the word “bye.” I hear sports announcers saying a certain team has a bye for that day. According to an online dictionary, this means that this team will not play on a certain day. In other words, they are idle.
Another expression that has given me pause during my latter years, is the mention that some team is third seeded. Or they are in the top seeds.
I do not watch football nearly as much as I once did, and when I do, it is mostly college football. After all these years, I am still not certain what a “play action pass” is. Or in basketball what an illegal screen means. I wonder who comes up with all these words.
As a high school student, I had never heard the expressions of March Madness, the Sweet Sixteen, or the Final Four.
These final games of the season this year have been really exciting because so many wins or losses, have come down to who possesses the ball in the final seconds. A number of teams that were supposed to be in the winners’ bracket, ended the season with some heartbreaking losses. These teams will not make it to the playoffs.
I’ve often wondered how coaches withstand so much pressure during these times. They have to be so stressed out because most coaches and fans take the games very seriously.
I sincerely hope that your team had a successful season and that you were able to enjoy the games with them. After all, this is supposed to be a game!
3-18-2009
#426
Along with this season transition, we find many activities that are prevalent now. Many churches have pre-Easter observances, schools in this area are in spring break, and of course, there is “March Madness,” with all the excitement of basketball playoffs.
Starr and I have watched the Big 12 boys and girls’ games, at least those that were televised in our area. So many of the games have been nip and tuck, right down to the last buzzer.
When I was in school, my family never attended any sort of athletic games. The high school football games were played clear across town from where I lived. Since we only had one automobile, and Daddy used that for work, we had no way of going unless we rode a bus and that involved transferring to a second bus. Consequently, I knew very little about football or basketball either.
Both our boys, David and Harold, participated in the athletic programs here in Waurika. So, our family attended all of their games; at least we tried to be there.
One year when David was playing football in high school, my parents were visiting us and we took them to the game being played here. At one point, Mother turned to me and asked, “Which inning is this?”
The girls played basketball some, but for them it was not as serious as it was for the boys.
Back then and even now, there are so many things regarding these two forms of athletics that I do not understand. For instance, the word “bye.” I hear sports announcers saying a certain team has a bye for that day. According to an online dictionary, this means that this team will not play on a certain day. In other words, they are idle.
Another expression that has given me pause during my latter years, is the mention that some team is third seeded. Or they are in the top seeds.
I do not watch football nearly as much as I once did, and when I do, it is mostly college football. After all these years, I am still not certain what a “play action pass” is. Or in basketball what an illegal screen means. I wonder who comes up with all these words.
As a high school student, I had never heard the expressions of March Madness, the Sweet Sixteen, or the Final Four.
These final games of the season this year have been really exciting because so many wins or losses, have come down to who possesses the ball in the final seconds. A number of teams that were supposed to be in the winners’ bracket, ended the season with some heartbreaking losses. These teams will not make it to the playoffs.
I’ve often wondered how coaches withstand so much pressure during these times. They have to be so stressed out because most coaches and fans take the games very seriously.
I sincerely hope that your team had a successful season and that you were able to enjoy the games with them. After all, this is supposed to be a game!
3-18-2009
#426
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Weather as Diverse as Robes
The other morning when I awakened, I went to my closet to get my robe to slip on before I went into the kitchen for coffee. Because my closet is always cluttered, big time, I choose a robe that is appropriate for the temperatures and keep it in my bedroom closet. The others I store in another closet.
Well, that morning I had three robes of different weights hanging in my closet. There was my winter velour robe, good and warm for cold mornings. Then I saw the mid-season robe of much lighter fabric and three-quarter length sleeves. The other was a muumuu type, ankle length with very short sleeves.
Why did I have all three of these robes in my closet? For one thing the temperature the week before had been like winter and the heavy, velour robe felt good. In the meantime, we’d had warmer weather and so I had opted for the lighter robe and had worn it for several days.
When I saw the muumuu, I remembered the day when the afternoon temperature got up around 90 degrees and I had turned the air-conditioner on. What a contrast in temperatures over one week.
And now this weekend daylight savings time has returned. How are we supposed to cope with these drastic changes in weather and time?
As I thought of all these variations that were difficult for us mortals to adjust to, I thought about the animals and birds and how they handle all this. I had recently seen an article on television regarding the monarch butterflies. I wonder if they are confused about the time to begin their migration journey. Do they begin their northward trip, only to encounter an unseasonably cold spell and decide they need to return to their winter habitat?
My neighbor assured me last week that the hummingbirds would have scouts here in about two weeks. Are they going to also be confused and decide not to come at their regular time this year? To me, it is a miracle that they have this innate ability to know when and where to go at just the right time.
Another response to weather variations are the trees, especially fruit trees. So many years the fruit trees blossom and then we get a hard freeze and the fruit potential is wiped out for that year. How anyone can deny God’s existence in the face of all these miracles is beyond my comprehension.
For several years now, we’ve had variations in the weather patterns causing us to be uncertain about what to expect.
Weather is one topic of conversation that is often discussed, but little is done about it. I’m sure if we could order the kind of weather we want, some persons would object to our choices because they would have laundry to dry outside when we wanted a nice soaking rain. Just the thought of a good slow rain for several days, followed by some runoff water makes me want to get outside and stand under that God-given moisture.
I’m certain we will get that rain sometime.
3-11-2009
#425
Well, that morning I had three robes of different weights hanging in my closet. There was my winter velour robe, good and warm for cold mornings. Then I saw the mid-season robe of much lighter fabric and three-quarter length sleeves. The other was a muumuu type, ankle length with very short sleeves.
Why did I have all three of these robes in my closet? For one thing the temperature the week before had been like winter and the heavy, velour robe felt good. In the meantime, we’d had warmer weather and so I had opted for the lighter robe and had worn it for several days.
When I saw the muumuu, I remembered the day when the afternoon temperature got up around 90 degrees and I had turned the air-conditioner on. What a contrast in temperatures over one week.
And now this weekend daylight savings time has returned. How are we supposed to cope with these drastic changes in weather and time?
As I thought of all these variations that were difficult for us mortals to adjust to, I thought about the animals and birds and how they handle all this. I had recently seen an article on television regarding the monarch butterflies. I wonder if they are confused about the time to begin their migration journey. Do they begin their northward trip, only to encounter an unseasonably cold spell and decide they need to return to their winter habitat?
My neighbor assured me last week that the hummingbirds would have scouts here in about two weeks. Are they going to also be confused and decide not to come at their regular time this year? To me, it is a miracle that they have this innate ability to know when and where to go at just the right time.
Another response to weather variations are the trees, especially fruit trees. So many years the fruit trees blossom and then we get a hard freeze and the fruit potential is wiped out for that year. How anyone can deny God’s existence in the face of all these miracles is beyond my comprehension.
For several years now, we’ve had variations in the weather patterns causing us to be uncertain about what to expect.
Weather is one topic of conversation that is often discussed, but little is done about it. I’m sure if we could order the kind of weather we want, some persons would object to our choices because they would have laundry to dry outside when we wanted a nice soaking rain. Just the thought of a good slow rain for several days, followed by some runoff water makes me want to get outside and stand under that God-given moisture.
I’m certain we will get that rain sometime.
3-11-2009
#425
Saturday, March 7, 2009
New Words Keep Popping Up
From time to time I think of the way our language and conversations change. Some of the words we use today were unheard of in times past.
As our nation grows, we come up with new words. These new words are meant to fit the present conditions of the world. We often hear the word “recession” while back in the ‘30s, it was known as “depression.”
I remember my teens when “the dance” was the Jitterbug. Then a number of years later came “hip-hop.” These words come and go as our conditions change.
Over the weekend, I learned of the death of Paul Harvey, Hone of the nation’s most popular newscasters. He became famous for the segment of his radio programs known as “The Rest of the Story.” He lived to the age of 90, so he had certainly seen many changes in world conditions during his lifetime.
He received credit for several words he coined. He came up with the word “skyjacker,” which was most appropriate for the actions taking place at that time. He was also credited with the expression “guesstimate.”
One of his most famous words still in use is “Reaganomics.” Most of us still remember these words that seemed so fitting for the conditions at the time.
A number of words gained new usage and popularity during the recent presidential campaign. I had never realized that “green” was such an important color in the rainbow. As years go by we will likely hear more regarding this word.
I had heard the word “Maverick” many times but never attached much importance to the word. However, this word took on a new meaning during the election. For some reason I had associated it with a disreputable character, but it took high priority during the last year.
One word that has assumed a prominent place both during the election and since then is the word “Vet or Vetted.” I do not ever remember hearing that word prior to the past election. I had no clue about its meaning, but since then have learned a lot. I imagine there are politicians and their followers who wish they had never heard this word.
I’ve wondered why the word vetted was used so often when a person could say a person’s history and background had been examined.
Many of the words I read today are often absent from my old dictionary.
The area that gives me the most concern regarding words and their meanings is those used in computer directions or solutions to Internet problems. When I first got my computer, my brother was trying to help me via phone instructions. He asked, “Do you use Netscape or Internet Explorer?”
Needless to say, I hadn’t a clue what he meant. I really get upset when I see the word “Error” on my computer, or the notation that informs me this program is not running. I often wonder how anyone, beginning from scratch, ever devised this advanced means of communication and information.
With all this new electronic equipment that has come about in my generation, wonder what it will be like in the next fifty to one hundred years?
3-4-2009
#424
As our nation grows, we come up with new words. These new words are meant to fit the present conditions of the world. We often hear the word “recession” while back in the ‘30s, it was known as “depression.”
I remember my teens when “the dance” was the Jitterbug. Then a number of years later came “hip-hop.” These words come and go as our conditions change.
Over the weekend, I learned of the death of Paul Harvey, Hone of the nation’s most popular newscasters. He became famous for the segment of his radio programs known as “The Rest of the Story.” He lived to the age of 90, so he had certainly seen many changes in world conditions during his lifetime.
He received credit for several words he coined. He came up with the word “skyjacker,” which was most appropriate for the actions taking place at that time. He was also credited with the expression “guesstimate.”
One of his most famous words still in use is “Reaganomics.” Most of us still remember these words that seemed so fitting for the conditions at the time.
A number of words gained new usage and popularity during the recent presidential campaign. I had never realized that “green” was such an important color in the rainbow. As years go by we will likely hear more regarding this word.
I had heard the word “Maverick” many times but never attached much importance to the word. However, this word took on a new meaning during the election. For some reason I had associated it with a disreputable character, but it took high priority during the last year.
One word that has assumed a prominent place both during the election and since then is the word “Vet or Vetted.” I do not ever remember hearing that word prior to the past election. I had no clue about its meaning, but since then have learned a lot. I imagine there are politicians and their followers who wish they had never heard this word.
I’ve wondered why the word vetted was used so often when a person could say a person’s history and background had been examined.
Many of the words I read today are often absent from my old dictionary.
The area that gives me the most concern regarding words and their meanings is those used in computer directions or solutions to Internet problems. When I first got my computer, my brother was trying to help me via phone instructions. He asked, “Do you use Netscape or Internet Explorer?”
Needless to say, I hadn’t a clue what he meant. I really get upset when I see the word “Error” on my computer, or the notation that informs me this program is not running. I often wonder how anyone, beginning from scratch, ever devised this advanced means of communication and information.
With all this new electronic equipment that has come about in my generation, wonder what it will be like in the next fifty to one hundred years?
3-4-2009
#424
Thursday, February 26, 2009
How Much ‘Really’ Changes?
I want to share with you an article I read recently. This is especially appropriate at this time of financial instability in our nation.
This information compares the financial conditions in our country in the year of 1955. See if you recognize any of these comments made during that time.
‘I’ll tell you one thing, if things keep going the way they are, it’s going to be impossible to buy a week’s groceries for $20.’
‘Have you seen the new cars that are coming out next year? It won’t be long before $2,000 will only buy a used one.’
‘If cigarettes keep going up, I’m going to quit. A quarter a pack is ridiculous.’
‘Did you hear the post office is thinking about charging a dime just to mail a letter?’
‘If they raise the minimum wage to $1, nobody will be able to hire outside help at the store.’
‘When I first started driving, who would have thought gas would someday cost 29 cents a gallon. Guess we’d be better off leaving the car in the garage.’
‘Kids today are impossible. Those ducktail haircuts make it impossible to stay groomed. Next thing you know boys will be wearing their hair as long as the girls.’
‘I’m afraid to send my kids to the movies any more. Ever since they let Clark Gable get by with saying Damn in Gone with the Wind, it seems every new movie has either hell or damn in it.’
‘I read the other day that some scientist thinks it’s possible to put a man on the moon by the end of this century. They even have some fellows they call astronauts preparing for it down in Texas.’
‘Did you see where some baseball player just signed a contract for $75,000 a year just to play ball? It wouldn’t surprise me if someday they’ll be making more that the President.’
‘I never thought I’d see the day all our kitchen appliances would be electric. They are even making electric typewriters now.’
‘It’s too bad things are so tough nowadays. I see where a few married women are having to work to make ends meet.’
‘It won’t be long before young couples are going to have to hire someone to watch their kids so they can both work.’
‘Marriage doesn’t mean a thing any more. These Hollywood stars seem to be getting divorced at the drop of a hat.’
‘I’m afraid the Volkswagen car is going to open the door to a whole lot of foreign business.’
‘Thank goodness, I won’t live to see the day when the government takes half our income in taxes. I sometimes wonder if we are electing the best people to congress.’
‘The drive-in restaurant is convenient in nice weather, but I seriously doubt they will ever catch on.’
‘There is no sense going to Lincoln or Omaha anymore for a weekend. It costs nearly $15 a night to stay in a hotel.’
‘No one can afford to be sick anymore, at $35 a day in the hospital, it’s too rich for my blood.’
‘If they think I’ll pay 50 cents for a hair cut, forget it.’
After reading all of these remarks, I wonder what those persons would have thought of cell phones, blackberries, computers and all the other electronic equipment of today. This sure takes you back a ways, doesn’t it?
2-25-2009
#423
This information compares the financial conditions in our country in the year of 1955. See if you recognize any of these comments made during that time.
‘I’ll tell you one thing, if things keep going the way they are, it’s going to be impossible to buy a week’s groceries for $20.’
‘Have you seen the new cars that are coming out next year? It won’t be long before $2,000 will only buy a used one.’
‘If cigarettes keep going up, I’m going to quit. A quarter a pack is ridiculous.’
‘Did you hear the post office is thinking about charging a dime just to mail a letter?’
‘If they raise the minimum wage to $1, nobody will be able to hire outside help at the store.’
‘When I first started driving, who would have thought gas would someday cost 29 cents a gallon. Guess we’d be better off leaving the car in the garage.’
‘Kids today are impossible. Those ducktail haircuts make it impossible to stay groomed. Next thing you know boys will be wearing their hair as long as the girls.’
‘I’m afraid to send my kids to the movies any more. Ever since they let Clark Gable get by with saying Damn in Gone with the Wind, it seems every new movie has either hell or damn in it.’
‘I read the other day that some scientist thinks it’s possible to put a man on the moon by the end of this century. They even have some fellows they call astronauts preparing for it down in Texas.’
‘Did you see where some baseball player just signed a contract for $75,000 a year just to play ball? It wouldn’t surprise me if someday they’ll be making more that the President.’
‘I never thought I’d see the day all our kitchen appliances would be electric. They are even making electric typewriters now.’
‘It’s too bad things are so tough nowadays. I see where a few married women are having to work to make ends meet.’
‘It won’t be long before young couples are going to have to hire someone to watch their kids so they can both work.’
‘Marriage doesn’t mean a thing any more. These Hollywood stars seem to be getting divorced at the drop of a hat.’
‘I’m afraid the Volkswagen car is going to open the door to a whole lot of foreign business.’
‘Thank goodness, I won’t live to see the day when the government takes half our income in taxes. I sometimes wonder if we are electing the best people to congress.’
‘The drive-in restaurant is convenient in nice weather, but I seriously doubt they will ever catch on.’
‘There is no sense going to Lincoln or Omaha anymore for a weekend. It costs nearly $15 a night to stay in a hotel.’
‘No one can afford to be sick anymore, at $35 a day in the hospital, it’s too rich for my blood.’
‘If they think I’ll pay 50 cents for a hair cut, forget it.’
After reading all of these remarks, I wonder what those persons would have thought of cell phones, blackberries, computers and all the other electronic equipment of today. This sure takes you back a ways, doesn’t it?
2-25-2009
#423
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Games, Friends Rekindle Past
Two recent events have caused me to revisit my past. My daughter Gayle and her husband were going to Duncan one evening recently to watch their granddaughter Hannah play a basketball game at the Simmons Center there. They invited Starr and me to go with them since we had not seen Hannah play.
Hannah is playing on the nine and ten year old team. She is a scrambler, to say the least. As I sat there and watched the game, my mind traveled back to the times when we had children playing at the school here. David never cared much for basketball, but he did play football all during his high school years.
Harold’s first love was basketball and he played on the team that went all year without a loss and advanced on to win the state championship in their class.
As I was recalling the games we had attended, I was reminded of all the excitement of attending the games the year Harold was a senior. When the team went to Oklahoma City for the playoffs, few businesses in town remained open. Someone laughingly remarked, “Whoever is the last to leave town, be sure to turn the lights off.”
Many former graduates of Waurika schools made arrangements to be in Oklahoma City during those final games. Some lived nearby, but others traveled quite a distance to be there to attend and cheer on their hometown team.
Those were good times.
The second occurrence that brought back many good memories involved a visit last week from a couple we knew in Dallas. This man worked for my dad when Daddy managed an icehouse in Dallas.
As time passed Al found Lydia, the love of his life, and they were wed. At that time Mother and Daddy had a garage apartment that happened to be vacant, so they moved into it as newlyweds.
During their visit last week Al told me, that as a bride, “Lydia could not boil water, nor cook an egg.” He said my mother had helped Lydia learn to cook, as well as giving her many housekeeping tips.
Al said every morning around 6:30, Mother would go into the garage and bang the broom handle against the ceiling of the garage and that was Lydia’s clue that the coffee was ready at Mother’s.
One of the things we learned was that the first week Al worked at the icehouse, he worked on Sunday. Sometime during the next week, he asked Daddy if he would pray with him. So, he said they went into Daddy’s office and closed the door. Daddy asked what did they need to pray about and Al responded that he had made a promise to God that he would never work on Sunday because he wanted to be in church.
When he told Daddy this, my dad said, “Why Al, why didn’t you let me know? We don’t have to pray about that. You can be off every Sunday from now on.”
At some point Daddy told Al he had no chance of advancement working there and helped direct him to a better job.
In time Al became a very successful person in the insurance business field and has now turned the business over to two of his sons who are operating it at present.
The only problem with our visit was that it was much too short, we still had a number of things to discuss, but perhaps we will have the opportunity to do so at a later date.
2-18-2009
#422
Hannah is playing on the nine and ten year old team. She is a scrambler, to say the least. As I sat there and watched the game, my mind traveled back to the times when we had children playing at the school here. David never cared much for basketball, but he did play football all during his high school years.
Harold’s first love was basketball and he played on the team that went all year without a loss and advanced on to win the state championship in their class.
As I was recalling the games we had attended, I was reminded of all the excitement of attending the games the year Harold was a senior. When the team went to Oklahoma City for the playoffs, few businesses in town remained open. Someone laughingly remarked, “Whoever is the last to leave town, be sure to turn the lights off.”
Many former graduates of Waurika schools made arrangements to be in Oklahoma City during those final games. Some lived nearby, but others traveled quite a distance to be there to attend and cheer on their hometown team.
Those were good times.
The second occurrence that brought back many good memories involved a visit last week from a couple we knew in Dallas. This man worked for my dad when Daddy managed an icehouse in Dallas.
As time passed Al found Lydia, the love of his life, and they were wed. At that time Mother and Daddy had a garage apartment that happened to be vacant, so they moved into it as newlyweds.
During their visit last week Al told me, that as a bride, “Lydia could not boil water, nor cook an egg.” He said my mother had helped Lydia learn to cook, as well as giving her many housekeeping tips.
Al said every morning around 6:30, Mother would go into the garage and bang the broom handle against the ceiling of the garage and that was Lydia’s clue that the coffee was ready at Mother’s.
One of the things we learned was that the first week Al worked at the icehouse, he worked on Sunday. Sometime during the next week, he asked Daddy if he would pray with him. So, he said they went into Daddy’s office and closed the door. Daddy asked what did they need to pray about and Al responded that he had made a promise to God that he would never work on Sunday because he wanted to be in church.
When he told Daddy this, my dad said, “Why Al, why didn’t you let me know? We don’t have to pray about that. You can be off every Sunday from now on.”
At some point Daddy told Al he had no chance of advancement working there and helped direct him to a better job.
In time Al became a very successful person in the insurance business field and has now turned the business over to two of his sons who are operating it at present.
The only problem with our visit was that it was much too short, we still had a number of things to discuss, but perhaps we will have the opportunity to do so at a later date.
2-18-2009
#422
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