To Weary Travelers and Couregeous Hearts

Good morning everyone.  God has awarded me a quiet and peaceful moment today and, as is usual, I turned to my thoughts.  He and He alone, knows, when we need our moments of reflection and our body needs quiet times as well.  Many of the thoughts that never leave us are weeds and they want desperately to invade these moments so I have spent a lifetime trying to “weed” that little garden. I would love for everyone in the world who needs an oasis today to have one and please use it to pour water over a crusty heart or broken soul.  We spend too much time racing to pour a drop of water into an ocean only to see it go out with the tide and behind, beside or even in front of us is a moment in time that may never come our way again.

I am full circle now with my children, well almost anyway.  They are not grandparents but they are struggling with adult children and empty nests and all that comes with that.  It is not an easy road but borrow those glimpses, you know the ones; the moments in time that will make you laugh and expand your heart again today.  My grandchildren are a delightful group of artists!  It shows up in “grande’ ways” I can assure you.  To watch an adult grandchild reach out to another person unselfishly and put that person first with a pure, loving heart is a testament to a wonderful parent.  To hear a grandchild play music to the One who bestowed the heart of desire to them, is a joy not describable.  Oh they truly all march to their own music and sometimes you, as parents, will not understand that. Leading is so much harder than telling.  Did you ever say to yourself, “how many times have I told him/her that?”  Well, please do not stress over that nonsense because praying for that child allows us to know that at the precise time, and with someone else, they will learn it!  I always, always, have asked God to give my children the right people in their lives and the exact right time and God never sleeps!  You know the old cliches’ including the one, “teach a child to fish and he will never be hungry.”  Trust me you have dedicated all of this time teaching so many things good mostly, but also the bad or hurtful.  That in itself is a learning curve even if you wish it did not exist. 

It isn’t always what you do, but how you do that turns the tide.  I know a water rush may be a challenge to controlling individuals looking for adventure but that high tide can drown a parent in torment if one allows it to.  I know you hear me quote the KJV on this verse but it is Fitting.  “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pitchers of silver.” Plant that painting in your mind’s eye and think about it.

“Speaking of painting.”  Think about this.  When your children were born God presented you with a white art board.  You and I were far too young and inexperienced to grasp that thought, at that time!  But think about it for a bit.  How many times you must have painted outside the lines, this is not a  paint by number you know, and how many times did you just pour paint off the board completely and turn around and wonder why the child never got that?  Now they are striking out on their own and you want to know how on earth they will ever do it!!!!!!!!!  Then you look inside and remember all of the dumb times and how many times you messed up with them.  Hey they got the big picture.  They may seem as if they are tuned out but their storage tank is probably running on overload right now while you are having a cram session!  Don’t worry they will be in touch over and over and over again!  Just not usually when you know your heart and mind need to hear from them. “Like right this minute so I can continue on with my day.”

Now God has generously given you a new white, art board.  Take the other one and frame it for later when they are parents and need a hug.  There is a big difference in the two boards anyway because you are no longer the 1^st chair!!!  You get to wait for them to paint on this board so you will see and know.  Controlling people with struggle with this one so take a moment and breathe.  Give them room to grow off your old board with lots of love and prayer.  They have the brush now, so open your grateful heart and breathe, knowing with complete certainty that God never sleeps, and He loves them more than you ever could and with good reason.  He knows where they are really going!  Oh, I remembered the two things I have prayed generously yet selfishly for my children all of the years they have been in my care.

1. Wisdom

2. A Couregeous Heart 

With wisdom from God they will flourish and with the courageous heart they will have the courage to act on the wisdom.  King  Solomon did not build his house.  God’s wisdom built that entire kingdom for him but God, who is wise enough to allow us to do all of these things on this earth while he oversees, gave Solomon the opportunity to act on the gifts that He, God, gave to him.  Now my weary travelers, that is opportunity"  To those bold, young courageous hearts, "march on in this same wisdom."

                                                                                                                                      

Never, Never, Never Give Up!

              

Today I wish I were in Natchez, Mississippi celebrating with flags and flowers, for you see the last time I was there was January 2007 when we buried the physical remains of a young brother who taught his older sister, me, so much.  He was a US Marine and he was one of those special people who knew how to win and he knew how to lose.

Many people have asked me about the gold bar that sat on the counter in front of my desk, and now sits on my home desk, inscribed, “Never, Never, Never, Give Up.”  I would like to share the story with you. On December 15, 2006 I closed my salon and left for Birmingham, Alabama because I knew the end was near for David and he had been admitted to the Veterans Hospital in Birmingham.

My brother David was many things and lived a life that few people understood, including me.  During his last few years with us I had the privilege of spending a lot of my time with him and he taught me how to love people unconditionally.  He never talked about it but he did it day in and day out and I watched him.  When they were difficult or just down-right rude and mean to him, he never complained and he would say things like, “Well, we don’t know what’s going on in their life, so we shouldn’t pretend we do, and we never have the right to judge them.”  Those were the things my Mother and Daddy used to say to us, but hearing it from a man, who put it into action in the biggest way by volunteering to go to Viet Nam, well to me, it was bigger than the life we grew up in.  David was a US Marine, a bonofide cowboy, and country music guitar picker and singer.  He saw things that most of us haven’t even heard about and somehow he allowed those things to mold around the things he had been taught and in the end he was still strong.  I know, because I was sitting beside his bed in the Veterans hospital when he said, “Well it’s over sister,” and I replied, “I’m a little jealous that you’ll get to see Mama and Daddy before I do”.  That was the last real conversation we ever had but his life still speaks volumes to me every day.

The year before he died he decided to remodel his wife’s house and make sure she would be okay.  Together they did, and I spent many days visiting him under the carport watching him sanding doors, and building windows and cabinets.  He couldn’t breathe by that time but he never wore an oxygen pack on his person, because he was a US Marine and a “bonafide” cowboy.  Once I asked him, “David, Jean would understand if you don’t get this done, so why don’t you rest?”  He shook his head and he looked me in the eye and he said, “Never, Never, Never Give Up!”

There are always people in our lives that we have to smile and walk away from, never understanding them, but when we have something to do that is bigger than anything we could ever do all by ourselves, we learn to Never, Never, Never, Give Up.  We also learn to depend on one another to get it done.  We are facing people every day who are looking for reasons to hope and we can’t give them the jobs they need, but those who are hired to assist them can give them a smile and an understanding heart, and together we can make more and more out of what is in our hands.  We can sand a few more doors, build a few windows to let the sunshine in, and somehow build cabinets to hide the JUNK.  You know the JUNK, the harsh words, the impatient answers, and the judgmental attitudes.  These are the things I am working on myself, failing miserably from time to time, and I see some of you struggle to get through it without crying and giving up. Please do not become complacent or disinterested.  We must Never, Never, Never Give Up as long as there is hope then there is a way to make a difference.  You are sitting on that side of the desk and many wish they were, and it would not matter to them where the desk was.  Sometimes “following the book” means ignoring the needs of the person asking for assistance.  I know this because I tried to follow a rule book and all of the rules put in place end up like a crazy quilt instead of the right solution, and crazy quilts may keep you warm but there is never thought put into the placement because you just fit somebody where you think they will maybe fit.

Today I celebrate the Veterans, the men and women who saw something bigger than they could accomplish all by themselves, and they teamed up to ease the suffering, demand freedom for those who were being oppressed and abused, and they Never, Never, Never Gave Up.  Walking away is hard to do when you cannot see how you can win the battle, and sometimes  it is easy to confuse walking away with quitting, but if you cannot win, you can open the door for one of your team mates to step up and help you get it done.  This will require that they be the kind of teammate that is willing to step up and help when they are needed.  Thank you for remembering those who actually put their life on the battle line to prove that.  The key was usually, “Never, Never, Never Give Up!”

Thank you David, thank you.. to all of you who have returned to us, and thank you families for making the ultimate sacrifices by giving up your son, daughter, wife, husband, brother, sister, mother or father.

May God give all of us a COURAGEOUS HEART to give the very best and do the very best we can to make other’s lives better when the opportunity is presented to us or we see the need.

DAVID ARTHUR GRACE, Veteran of the UNITED STATES MARINE CORP

“SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL VETERANS ORGANIZATIONS AND OPEN YOUR HEARTS TO OUR VETERANS WHO ARE RETURNING HOME TO US…. AND SERVE FOR US.”

Love is Not a Natural Occurence

Good morning everyone.  Today is absolutely beautiful and the morning is so perfect one would want to absorb it.  Absorb is an old fashioned word that many choose not to use in the literary world of writing adverbs.  When I think of absorb, I remember once when I was in love I used to think it would be wonderful to absorb the man.  Good thing I didn’t.  It would have changed who I am. Hmmm….makes me wonder about a lot of things pertaining to love.  MY BELIEF:

“Love is not a natural occurrence”

I believe that we are emotionally attracted to others.  When I held my son for the first time or when they handed me my daughter.  Wow.  I loved them both so much.  Emotion city magnified.  Right?  Now think about this.  If I had given them away and walked away without ever looking back would that love have been as overwhelming as it was that first time I held them in my arms?  I do not think so.  I do believe the heart hungers for the love we lose or walk away from but the extreme emotions just are not there.  We choose to love and allow that love into our life.  Regardless of the situation or the person in our life, we have a choice.  We either love them or we do not.

My childhood was huge to me because I was taught to love.  My parents loved me so much they drove me crazy once I decided I wanted to have my own way about something.  My parents had no choice in their minds, but to prove their love yet again, by saying no. No, no, no, and I forgot all of the yeses!  We must remember to teach our children to love.  If we do not, then they will not have a pattern to fall in love and teach their children to love. 

If we were just programmed to love then Christ would not have been so adamant about his teachings.  I call it the New Testament, AD, Commandment.  “Love one another as I have loved you.”  This does not mean give everyone everything they think they should have.  This does not mean provide more than you can afford to, to prove your love.  “Love Hurts”.  That was a song title and if you recall it also states, “Love mars and scars.”  My Dad was known for his little quip, “You’ll get over it.” When I hear myself or one of my siblings make this remark I smile because it is true.  If the love you lost or chose not to invest yourself in hurts then remember that you will get over it.  We only carry with us the true loves that we gave our all to and have lost by one means or another because we gave all and knew it even just short of dying for them.

When a woman makes the statement, “You did not carry that child so you do not understand my decision”.  She has the right to say this to you.  Women invest all of themselves into the health and caring of their child and when the child is born that does not change.  This child becomes a visible person outside of the womb that requires the Mother to continually invest in every phase of his/her life.  I hear my children tell one another, concerning my grandchildren, “I choose the battles.  I cannot dictate a life to them.”  That would make parents controlling and give no live to the young ones for exploration and choosing the right things for themselves.  They must fail from time to time or they may never learn the importance of being successful.  When children are dictated every move then any failure becomes gigantic in their minds.  On the other hand, when a parent knows what is best and the child is not adhering to the best causing harm, danger to others or to themselves, then a parent has a battle to enter in and not give in.  New idea, Mama Up!  Daddy Up, sometimes Grandma or Grandpa Up, Teacher Up, just the same as a Cowboy Up!  This takes a lot of love investing.  For some there may be a lot of self-learning before the Step Up.  Facts change a situation in a moment so we all have to continually learn and trust to see it happen.  It takes a village to raise a child, hmmm… love and learning must begin with the tree the little apples fell from, and the village contributes.

We were taught to love everyone but we were not held accountable for loving them, when people were abusive or mistrustful.  I decided from all I had been taught, that I could easily have loved the abuser or mistrustful person if they had been the person they were created to be.  I could have watched over, nurtured and invested my emotions and affection on them.  People do get lost and we have large and caring hearts for them but we cannot allow ourselves to be abused or mistreated.  The person can overcome their choices of inflicting pain on others.  That beginning is itself their first choice.

So, Love is Not a Natural Occurrence.  I choose to save the most precious ability I poses for those whom I treasure and daily invest my time, attention, and affection in.  The ability to love! When we love wholeheartedly with everything we have, we must remember to love ourselves.  If we cannot do this we have to remember that love is not a natural occurrence and today we invest in us.  I know first-hand how hard this is because I forgot to love myself for many years.  Be happy every day and have fun!

God's Hugs

Good morning all.  A day like today would be a good reason to change the reason we call home the Treasure Coast.  The weather is our treasure today and the ocean is bringing a soft, yet steady wind across the beaches.  It is so beautiful!  Today my blog time will be devoted to the most precious part of a parent’s heart; children. I cannot speak for all of you so I can only example my experiences.

The Viet Nam War (crisis) deprived my son and daughter of their father before they even had time to know him.  A sweet home-town Christian boy left us and returned a man that no one understood.  All of the wisdom in the world could never prepare families for these tumultuous times.  Well it wasn’t long before he chose his own path to walk and it did not include his family, so life began again the way it first began; just the three of us.  Some of you can relate to this and sadly, too many of you.  We were scrutinized, criticized and passed over by an older generation who simply wanted everything to remain the same.  How could it?  There have been generations of single moms rearing their children alone, yet this time we were treated like we were diseased.  Yep.  A lot of forgiveness has come down the pike and a lot of that same, torture of being different came with it.

Now, let’s stop and think about this.  The children grew up without the best of both worlds and found their way through life the same way we did, but in a different age of technology.  Are you still with me?  Many parents of the sixties and seventies have managed to retain the devout Christian beliefs without interference in a world created for them.  Today parents and their children are being forced to deal with the world our ancestors left behind. 

I think about this a lot because our ancestors, the puritans, were building a world free of all of the things that were causing chaos in other parts of the world.  As time rolled along the sixties generation ushered in the unbelievable world of technology, the one that seemed to take this country by surprise.  Not our governments or military, but to us it was wowing.  I remember when we had to decide to go back to school and learn this new operation of offices or get left behind...  Since then this generation has played the extreme highway game of keeping up with the technical industry.  I remember selling a rather gaudy diamond bracelet to purchase a single strand of pearls and two computers!  How small the world suddenly became and war was on television twenty-four hours per day in vivid color.

Let me not go too far off my course and forget the crux of this visitation.  The parents now have young pre-teens, teens, and young adults to keep up with.  The basic rules of life are changing and that is my great concern with our present generation.  How do parents keep the basics yet live with all of the changes?  Grandparents help, church helps some, extended families reach out more often, the neighborhoods they live in pay closer attention and perhaps the most important is continual encouragement within those basic boundaries.  Choices do create consequences. They always have and always will.  Choose wisely is far more, than just a bumper sticker.  When our ability to grow older and understand the present generation, occurs, if it ever occurs for some of us, then we will relax.  We can throw away the stress pills, laugh louder, smile more often, and enjoy the wonderful people in our lives.  Judgement of others is not a new concept!  From the puritans to the pulpits of today, judgements seem to be steady and continuing. 

Please let us not confuse judgements of living in our world with judgements of faith.  We judge the distance we in a car travel at a particular speed and give the person in the car in front of us plenty of room to make judgements also.  Our faith, the Christian faith that is, will always suffer scrutiny yet we have to remain stable in our faith and not judge others for their disagreement.  Now we come to the purpose of this visit today.

We are not the Holy Spirit and we are not capable of controlling other people or circumstances that are not ours to have.  We can push open every door that we think will work for us but until God’s perfection is applied in the pressure of the push it will not come to fruition. 

Now, I take a deep breath, have a sip of coffee, and relax.  God is in control.  Wow!!!! I keep losing sight of that fact.  My children and grandchildren are my greatest reminders.  When those days of Viet Nam separated our family, I gave up.  I gave my children and everything I had to God.  I told him that I could not fix it, deal with it or even imagine in my mind a way to work all of our problems out.  He took them and gave me a hug.  Well you may find this amusing but it is not when the night is long and you have no idea what is going on with a child or grandchild, so you cannot sleep for mentally trying to fix it.  That is right.  As Christians and as parents we think we can fix it!!!!  All of it!!!  That is when a trip to the carpet with open arms, and face down, I allow God to remind me that he has not given me control and he never will.  That is freedom to know that he is in charge.  I can relax and sleep and work and dream and be happy.  How about you?  Do you need a hug? Sit up from lying on the carpet and wrap your arms around yourself while God’s spirit encloses you in his arms.  That my friend; is a God hug.

Now let’s ask God and our children and grandchildren to forgive us for thinking we had control of God’s decisions.  We can be there and we can love with all of our hearts but we cannot make all of those decisions.  We have to keep trusting them to back away if the door is not opening with God’s force of perfection, and embrace the beautifulness of watching God take us to joyous reunions that we could never provide ourselves; on the carpet.

My friend sent me an email message about Mom’s.  Thank you.  We are truly blessed.  Will life be easy?  No.  Will decisions be difficult? Yes.  Are we in it alone? Never!  Are our children alone? Never!  We can change the consequences of our present actions by choosing well.  We can practice patience, and still hold onto the basics while we live in a world of continual change.

My motto:

·         Remember where you came from.  God created you.

·         Remember who you are.  God’s child with all of his benefits, and never ending hugs.

·         Remember where you are going.  Back to God!

Now everything else is the stuff that life gives us and we give to life.  Always remember to get your God hug!  Don’t have to always ask a friend, since God is the perfect parent.

Daddy Sure Could Pick a Good Dog

Good dogs always lived at our house because Daddy knew how to pick a good dog.  Boy I really thought Daddy could do anything and I expected all Daddys to be that smart, but one day I saw a man lose a dog to a stranger and the dog just ignored his owner.

I asked Daddy, “Why on earth would anyone let their dog go off  like that with a stranger?”

“Well, Ludy,” he said, “Some owner’s don’t treat their dogs too good, but I know that dog was treated real good.  That dog is any man’s dog that’ll hunt him.  All dogs are not good, Sugar.”

Now is probably a good time to go backwards and tell you a little about me and my family and our good dogs.  See, we were poor country people and my earliest remembrance was after Mama and Daddy sold Grandmas’s farm and we moved to the city.  There were seven of us kids at that time and Mama had two more later on making out family nine kids and two parents.  Well Mama was like a kid and Daddy treated her like one.  She never had to whip me (today that would be known as spanking) but when she told Daddy I needed one he took care of business and we knew not to cross Mama.   So, where was I?  Oh yeah, nine of us kids living in the city was a recipe for problems; however this is a story of what I remember first hand as a child and believe you me, there have been many stores told to me that I don’t feel I should share since they aren’t mine.  When the ninth baby was born, he was a puny little thing and lived on mashed bananas but he had a head full of glorious blonde curls that would make any Scotsman proud.  By all that is right, Mama named him after the doctor who saved her and her baby.  Calvin Theo.  Those first years in the city were tough and we had no dog that I remember.  Daddy traveled putting up billboards on the side of the road and one of my finest remembrances was the one when I sat on the curb, every Friday in Meridian, Mississippi waiting for my Daddy to come home.  Thrilling was not the word for how I felt when that old red paneled truck came around the corner and he was finally home.

I was still young enough to be lugged on my older sisters’ hips but old enough not to need diapers because I could walk or run all over the place, and when I couldn’t keep up I was thrown upon a hip. The next remembrance I must share because it was a tale told about me and to me.  My sister, Becky with her bright red curly hair and big blue eyes could scare me almost to death and if she told me something, she would say, “And you better believe it too.”

 I certainly did for many, many years.

She told me, “You were on my hip and I was running around the corner of our brick house and you fell backwards and hit your head on those bricks.  Well I dropped you on the ground and took a screwdriver and bored a hole in your head to pour green stuff in your head, since I had knocked out your brains.  You are not smart because of that, so I will tell me what to do from now on. “

 And she did.

I remember two other things about that period of time in the brick house and one was Daddy’s ability to pick a good dog.  It was cold one night and we young ones were sitting on the floor in front of a heater when Daddy came home.  He opened his jacket and pulled out a tiny little German Shepherd pup that was shaking like crazy.  My brother, Calvin Theo had been born on December the 12^th and you remember he was a puny runt, so Daddy brought Calvin a puppy that the police department did not want, because the pup was a puny runt and would never fit in.  I was four-and-a-half years old and that made perfect sense to me.  I don’t remember who named him but my brother, Lavon adopted that little fellow and we called our dog Bullet.  Well Daddy knew how to pick a good dog because Bullet proved to be the best.

Daddy had a brother living over in Jackson, Mississippi and the brother wanted him to come there too, so off we went to another city not fit for country kids.  There is one thing about our family mixed with Scottish, Irish and Cherokee, and that is not a surprise considering Mississippi had 13 flags that flew over her before Old Glory reigned, so all of this mixture assured everyone that we knew how to have fun. Moving to the big city was ok with us if Daddy said so. Jackson was a tough town when you lived on Gallatin Street. One night we were all asleep when someone decided to steal the gasoline from Daddy’s car and Bullet was on guard that night.  When Daddy heard men screaming and that dog growling just before Ole Bullet came unglued, he took off out the door.  All of that commotion certainly woke us up and he came back in the house holding the fabric from the seat of somebody’s britches that Bullet didn’t care for. If my memory serves me right they did not get the gasoline but we moved to a different neighborhood. 

Bullet became our family hero and we depended on him, especially Mama and Daddy depended on him to watch over us, since kids weren’t allowed to hang out in the house and we spent most of our time outside.  I remember all of that sunshine and good times.  My sister, Mary, used to drag me down the sidewalk to go to a walk-in-theatre on Saturday.  Oh she didn’t have to make me go, but she was saddled with babysitting me and that little girl was always in a hurry.  Well my love for western movies was born in that theatre.  I especially loved Roy Rogers and Dale Evans and most of all, Trigger, but Mary wanted to watch Ester Williams swim so I didn’t always get my way about seeing horses, dogs and cows on the big screen.  Remember I was born in the country and that country was in my blood even though I lived three years in the city.  We had some hard times and I guess that same country ran in Daddy’s blood too because after my sixth birthday we moved to the cotton fields of North East Mississippi to a little community called Van Buren.

We arrived on a cold winter night but that is another story all together.  Bullet was about to get his first taste of country living at its purest.  It seems funny sometimes but he was always around when us four youngest ones were outside.  He stayed between us and danger always so I will share a few of these memorable moments in this story.

Our house was a typical sharecropper’s house with four large rooms, two on each side, a small room on the right for a kitchen, a huge middle hallway, a screened in back porch and a front porch that covered the width of the entire house.  Each room had a significant purpose with no wasted space.  These houses were known as shot-gun style houses.  You could stand on the front porch and shoot all the way through the back.  That was my take on the meaning anyway.  The yard around the house was swept clean of grass so there were no pests to contend with, except a few pesky house flies. I was six-and-a-half by then and Bullet and Calvin were four. There was so much for a four year old dog to discover and learn the hard way, and I can assure you that God watched over that nosy dog and us four kids.  I wore dresses and we all went barefoot, but people started calling us the four boys.  I hated being a girl because that meant I was weak and those boys were strong he-men.  It became second nature for Bullet to be with me when I rambled around the place making me think he was a super dog who took care of all of us at the same time.

Every morning Mama called from the back porch door, “Hey Bullet come and get it.”

He was never very far away and truth be told he was waiting for that yell every morning.

Ahh, The Days Gone By

Good morning everyone!  For posterity, your enjoyment, and my joy I visit the days gone by with stories.  My sincerest apologies for being absent so long.  Even though I love this, I also love the world I am now living in and making memories for the young generations to share with grandchildren.  Too often I hear, "I know you walked ten miles in the snow just to get to school."  That is all too true for many people and the wonderfulness is that they have taken the time to share those stories with us.  Many people say to me, "There is no way you lived the way you say you did as young as you are."  I kindly reply, "Yes we did, because we were poor but I did not know I was poor until I became a part of a great big world filled with people who enjoyed telling me that I was too poor."

Actually, this never bothered me because the wealth my family gave me cannot all be stored in a bank account but it can be shared generously!  My siblings accomplished a great deal in our world and all of that hard work growing up simply taught us how to be available to work, dedicated to our employer and ourselves, honest, trustworthy, and it established that pure bull dog determination to never give up.  Ups and downs come and go but what we carry in our hearts, minds, and gifts to others, never, never changes. 

Thank you for sharing your time with me and I am happy when you enjoy the stories and they bring you smiles.  I listen to everything you say to me and your opinions are like "apples of gold in pitchers of silver" (KJV).  If you are in my life, you are loved, prayed for, and cherished.  Distance means nothing when there is love and caring.  You are all my dear treasures.  While I make new memories, I will continue my stories.

Have a blessed and joyful day.

A Genuine Fish Tale

Good morning.  What a beautiful and chilly day.   The blooms in Florida may be taking a peek and staying closer to the stems today.  Detours are costly; financially, emotionally, and can be costly, physically.  You can never live in a detour even when it is difficult to turn around and return to the highway.  Usually this requires you making that decision mentally and allowing everything else that is costly to catch up.  Well, I am back on this highway even though the car is old and I feel a little batted around.  No real harm done. 

Today’s story is about a little three year old boy named Lane and a young twelve year old girl named Prissy.  They were really way out in the country.  It was a hot August day and they were hungry and thirsty.  Oh they had been served breakfast but it was at least nine in the morning. 

Lane, asked, “Can we have a pop and a moon pie?”

“You can if with money.  I don’t have any,” Prissy answered.

They talked as they walked through the field, swinging the sticks they were carrying.  They knew to ramble around outside, especially in the fields where the tall grass grew, to carry sticks just in case they happened up on a snake.  There were lots of green snakes, rat snakes, and sometimes a king snake may show up.

“I’ll race you to the apple tree,” shouted Prissy and they were off running.  Of course Prissy’s long legs gave her triple the advantage of Lane.

They climbed up into the crab apple tree and chose themselves a nice green apple to eat.  Lane rubbed his on his shorts the way he watched Prissy doing hers.  

“I guess an old green apple is better than nothing,” remarked Lane.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I still wish I had a pop.”

“Well sometimes you have to use what you have to get what you want.”

“So, do you think we could sell these apples,” he asked?

“Nope, Mama uses these apples and she would come close to skinning us alive if we do that.”

“Prissy, what is that tree?”

“Catalpa worms, silly boy. You know that.  We fish with them. Remember?”

“Then let’s just sell those catalpa worms.”

“Well now, you may be on to something Lane.  We do have them and fishermen do need them.  A lot of fishermen come down this road to go to the river.  After lunch we can bring some cans out of the fire barrel, because Daddy didn’t burn the trash yet, so we will sell these worms and go to the store later today. Yep, we can do that.”

When lunch time arrived they ate quietly and hurried to finish.  Mama looked at them and figured they had something really important to do since there was not one complaint about eating all of their butter beans.  She smiled to herself and was happy to have Prissy spending time with Lane because she had her hands full with the baby.

“Mama can we have black colored crayon,” Prissy asked?

“Look in the junk drawer in the kitchen.”

After finding the crayon Prissy took one of the big nails also.  Going out to the fire barrel and tearing the side off one of the cereal boxes in the trash, they scrounged up a few cans and a big piece of tin that already had nail holes in it.

“Perfect,” said Prissy

The two rushed out to the catalpa tree.  The tree sat between two apple trees, about sixty yards apart; one had tons of apples and the other had already been picked clean by Mama.  Filling six cans with catalpa worms was not hard at all.  They wrote on the inside of the cereal box with the crayon,

WORMS TO FISH WITH   3 PENNIES OR A CAN FOR ONE DIME

They went to the road and found a tree facing the right direction. They propped up the tin and using the nail to hold their sign by pushing the big nail through the sign and into the tin, they found a comfortable place to sit and wait.

Without saying a word, Lane jumped up and ran back to the apple tree that still had lots of apples.  He returned carrying as many apples as his little arms could hold secure against his chest. Now they would eat apples and wait for the fishermen to drive by.  The road to the river was after the curve so they knew Mama would think the trucks were slowing down for the curve and she couldn’t see them for the bushes growing in front of the windows on the side of the house.

An hour passed while they kept putting the worms back into the cans and eating apples.  Finally they had a customer.  He only had six cents so he bought six worms.  The next customer bought a whole can full and then they sold five and after about three hours they had sold them all!

Prissy told Lane to sit on the front door step and she tip-toed into the house and to Mama’s bedroom.  She whispered to her mama, “Can we walk to the store?  I have pennies.”

Mama gestured by shaking her head up and down and holding up five fingers.  Prissy knew that meant to hurry back in five minutes.

The dirt road was not an obstacle for those two.  They even picked up a few rocks and threw them up into the trees to watch birds fly away and squirrels scamper to higher limbs.  They finally arrived at the little store with a gas pump in front and a pop box on the front porch.  They put a nickel in and took out an orange pop then they went into the store.  They bought a handful of penny candy and asked for nickels in exchange for their pennies.  Two moon pies later they went to the porch and bought two more pops, one each this time.  Finally they were filled up and placed the pop bottles in a crate by the door, told the store owner bye and walked back to the road and headed home. 

Lane grumbled first and soon Prissy was hurting in her stomach too so they went straight to the couch when they arrived home.  Mama felt them and they did not have fever so she asked them what they had been doing to make their stomach hurt so badly.  They told her what they ate at the store and then Lane told her about eating two apples.  She smiled and went to the kitchen coming back with a large spoon and a bottle of black syrup.   They moaned and took the Syrup of Black Draught.  Prissy was the first to run to the outdoor john and soon Lane made the trek.  The kitchen door was a swinging door for the rest of the afternoon and finally supper was finished.

“Please do I have to eat,” Prissy whined and Lane looked at Mama with big pleading eyes agreeing with Prissy’s question. 

Mama filled the wash tub on the back porch behind the wood bin and they took turns to take a bath, put on pajamas and go to bed. 

When morning came they neither wanted to play outside but decided to stay inside while Prissy read stories from Mama’s big story book. 

“Prissy is yesterday a fishing tale,” Lane asked.

“Yep; it was a genuine fishing tale.”  

 

 

 

 

Sunshine and Blue Skies

Good morning.  What a beautiful day in paradise.  Sunshine and blue skies.  The rain is gone and the sunshine is tempting everyone to come outside and see a new world!  Today is a remembrance of an old lesson I learn over and over and it always seems new, each time.

Don’t you just love a brand, spanking, new opportunity?  I do, even when I am sad or disgusted with the reason I had to seek the opportunity to begin with.  Sometimes we don’t need to be reminded of the old lesson we are learning new again.  My father borrowed a phrase somewhere, and I always give him credit for it since he imparted it to me. 

“Life would be easy if it was a straight highway from birth to heaven, but it isn’t.  There are always detours.”

Some of them are forced detours and the only thing we can do is take the detour and make the absolute best of it.  Others we bring on ourselves, knowing that they could end very badly, we still choose the detour.  If we can think of these as presentations on a stage of life that present a brand, spanking, new  opportunity, then we can accept the challenge and pray and think, seek advice, even cry, well complain, yeah-complain, and we work it all out.  Look at all of the things that brought us to a solution for getting us back on the highway, since that is the object.

We complain about the drudgery of the highway until we have to detour!  Wow!  I am singing blue skies by the time I am back on that highway!  The washing was good for us and we stand a little taller,  show a little more gratitude, see more good around us, and thank God and all of those ears, eyes, and hearts involved in our detour.

Today I am on detour but I refuse to take it lying down and I refuse to see it as a negative.  I know some of you call me the ultimate optimist, and I may be, but life is too good to look at the pain for very long.  Embrace it and then cry, complain, or whatever it takes to get back to that highway.  Before you realize you were gone you will be back up there.  Sunshine and blue skies!

Have a beautiful day!

 

Animal Neighborhood

Good morning.  The animal neighborhood is quiet this morning and Mr. Cat has found a place in the den beside the window to welcome the morning sun.  Shane is asleep on the front porch and Eli has gone to visit somewhere in the neighborhood.

The telephone was ringing about eight this morning and I answered it using the phone in the kitchen.

“Hello.”

“Good morning Ms. Ina.  How is Mr. Cat today,” inquired Mr. Logo.

“Good morning Mr. Logo.  Thank you for inquiring of his well-being.  Mr. Cat is resting.  Actually appeased with his situation and taking advantage of the sunshine.  How is the Monkey today?”

“He is not happy to be kept in the house all day but I think he needs a change and I want him to have a name, so I have called my cousin to come and pick him up and keep him for two months.  My cousin can teach him to become a show monkey and he will earn a very fine Greek name.”

“The animal neighborhood will be boring without monkey but I know you are correct.  He will be happy once he is given the opportunity to be all he can be.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Well this is the Animal Neighborhood and there are many lessons we can learn from our animal friends.  When you read them again they will be in their own book.  There.  Now I have told you.  The Animal Neighborhood will become its own world.

Tomorrow I will resume with some of my happy family stories.  Thank you for reading each day.

A Celebrity Among Us

Well, hello.  How is your day?  The animal neighborhood began too quiet this morning and I had not seen the Spider monkey.  He usually paid everyone a visit early in the morning to extract his share of each food bowl and create a stir in the process.    I decided to go and check the food bowls in my yard only to find Mr. Cat lying across the walkway.

“Oh Mr. Cat.  Your foot is bleeding.  Whatever have you done to yourself?  Ok, be still and I will bring a towel and your carrier because we will have to go to the Veterinarian’s office and have the doctor look at your paw.”

“Okay Shane.  You will be in charge while I am away so keep a sharp eye out for that monkey.  We will be back soon.”

Mr. Cat would remain with the doctor until after they bandaged his paw, administered vaccines, shampooed his coat, trimmed the tufts of fur from around his ears and evened his nails.  At least he would not have to worry about that monkey, because his doctor visit would take most of the day.  Well everything was quiet and Shane was sleeping on the porch while Eli played across the street with the newest member of the animal neighborhood; a Chihuahua puppy.  I truly hoped he didn’t decide the puppy was a water fowl and throw him across the yard with his big jaws only so he could go and retrieve him.  Dear me; something new for the monkey to torture so I hoped Eli did not join the monkeys ranks.

A cup of coffee and my laptop were in order for my day along with this peace and quiet.

Momentarily!  Of course!  That monkey had the dogs riled up again.  The barking began with dogs that were two streets over but were moving closer and closer to my house.   Oh yes.  Eli first, then Shane! Shane barking meant that something or someone was coming into my yard.  That monkey must be up to something if Shane is calling for quiet.

“Hello.  Is there anybody home?  I need to speak to you please,” a man called from the front yard.

I made my way to the front door and discovered the man calling out to me was the spider monkey’s owner.

“Hello,” I replied back to him. “I am Ms Ina.  How may I help you?”

He removed his hat and said, “I am Mr. Logo and I have come for my monkey.  He seems to be missing today and I am sure he is here.”

“I am quite sure he could be anywhere in this neighborhood.”

“Oh no!  He will be where your big, yellow cat is. There were sprinkles of blood on my stoop and I think maybe your cat has injured my monkey.”

“Quite the opposite, I am sure.  I took the cat to the Vet this morning because his paw was bleeding.”

Mr. Logo looked so sad, so being a good neighbor I volunteered to assist him in his search.

The troupe followed us as we traveled around the neighborhood, but no monkey.  We finally arrived in Mr. Logo’s yard and he invited me to see the stoop where the blood was.

“My monkey has no name,” he remarked, rather out of the blue.

“You just call him monkey?  Why?”

“If you would not be offended, I would like to show you something.”

“Of course I am not offended.  Lead the way.”

Inside Mr. Logo’s house were posters and photos of Spider Monkeys in costumes and hats on every wall.

“When my father became ill, I moved here to his house.  His monkey, Hero, had died and I did not know he had ordered another one.  One week before my father died a friend of his delivered the monkey you know and I could never get rid of the monkey.  It would be going against what my father asked me to do.  Do you understand?  The monkey comes from a line of show animals from the mid 1800’s.  My grandfather brought his monkey to America as a stow-away.  When they arrived there was no work and so he dressed him up and the monkey danced while my grand-father played music.  Those were sad times for our family but the next generation, my father and a new monkey, Hero, found work with the circus and they were a huge success.  My father sent me to college and I cannot bring myself to go to the circus.  I work from home as a computer analyst.  My monkey does not know how to put on a show.  I am disgracing my family because I have not taught him to perform. If he could perform, I could give him a name.”

“Nonsense!  That monkey is the most entertaining animal in this neighborhood. I promise you that he can perform, and how.”

“Oh we must find him.”

The phone rang and Mr. Logos went to the kitchen to answer it.  When he returned he was smiling but his eyes were not happy looking.

“The monkey is at the Vet’s office and he is causing problems.  Would you please like to go with me to bring him home?”

“Oh yes!”

We went outside and got into Mr. Logo’s truck.  He had a camper shell on the back with windows and screens in the sides of the camper shell.

  Arriving at the Vet’s office we walked in gingerly and hopefully.   Hopefully the monkey had not destroyed the office.  But we could hear that he was creating a racket and had several animals joining in.  The ladies at the front desk were laughing and told us to go to the right and then to the end of the hallway.  The doctor was sitting on the corner of his desk feeding the monkey a banana and the monkey was throwing pieces of banana across the room to Mr. Cat who lay inside a crate just giving that monkey a dirty look.

“Well come in,” Dr. Adams cheerfully addressed us. “We have had quite a show today and this monkey is a born entertainer.  He loves to aggravate Mr. Cat.  They appear to be inseparable friends and my guess is that they always try to get one up on one another.  Quite a pair!  The monkey came here looking for Mr. Cat and danced on the porch until a patient finally opened the door wide enough for him to get inside.  He went straight to the back and found his Mr. Cat. "

Mr. Logo, the monkey, Mr. Cat and I were happy to return to our respective homes.  Mr. Cat would have to stay inside until his paw healed so we will see how well that monkey handles this problem tomorrow. 

 

The Wind Party

Writing has always been my passion and finding a quiet place to observe my surroundings and write is the reason I chose my little house.  Tranquility!

Today was especially windy.  Leaves clung to their trees and the blooms of spring were hesitant to open to a new day.  Eli, the lab pup, was barking wildly and running about chasing the wind’s flying debris.   The peace was temporary.  Yep.  Eli was just being a normal pup and the spider monkey could not help but be his normal self as well. That is how the rumpus began.

The spider monkey was in the small stand of long leaf pine trees extracting their blooms and tossing them into the wind.  The squirrels had entered the arena and up and down and up and down they went on those pine trees.  The monkey began to shriek and within minutes the entire neighborhood of pets and wild life that lived here were in my yard and each of them was contributing to the conversation! 

Shane came off the porch and tried his best to calm them but only a few dogs sat down and quietly observed.  There were at least eight cats perched on my lawn furniture hoping to catch that monkey off guard.  The wind would sway the young pine tree the monkey was sitting on and he would jump to another limb or another tree. 

I wished for one fleeting second I had an air gun because I would have shot the limb that monkey had begun to dance on.  My next idea; however was best because I began to throw small sticks up in the tree hoping to deter him and eventually force him to go back across the fence and disappear.   I soon ran out of sticks and the yard yielded nothing of consequence for ammunition. 

“Well that does it,” I pronounced rather loudly, as I went back into the house allowing the door to slam behind me.  Upon my return the ammunition had changed drastically and the small apples I brought with me did the trick.  I almost hit that monkey by accident and he stopped and looked at me.  I wasn’t sure what he was planning but I was ready to go to war.  Quiet settled over the yard preceding the monkey’s exit across the small bridge bordering the fish pond and finally over the fence and out of sight.

The animals turned and starred at me as if I had committed a crime in their kingdom.  Even Shane lowered his head and returned to the porch prompting all of them to find their way back home.

Now there is a very good lesson here.  Never break up a party that you are not invited to.  If you do, the party animals will shun you and the next time they gather for over the fence gossip, you will be the subject of their conversation.

That Spider Monkey

Our neighborhood had a yellow dog named Shane, a black lab pup named Eli, a big yellow tabby cat named Mr. Cat and this you will not believe, a spider monkey.   Yes indeed. An elderly man the same size around as he was up and down, with total absence of hair on his head, and a cigar in his mouth during waking hours, was in possession of a spider monkey. 

The monkey knew nothing at all about keeping the peace, obeying the rules, distinguishing between night and day, and minding his own business.  Nope.  That monkey just lived like he was the only creature on the earth that should be cared for at all times.  When he was ignored he produced screeching noises that he considered verbal communication, and these noises   kept every animal within ten miles in a stir when he proceeded to exercise this communique.

My small house with a large yard was very comfortable with only local traffic on the street where it was located.  The major streets were several blocks away and all of the animals roamed freely except when they were a problem.  The city wanted them all to be fenced but we were not used locking our pets away and they were careful about where they roamed.  Well, all of them except, you guessed it, the spider monkey.

That dog Shane loved to nap on the front porch and he preferred napping without being disturbed.  You see he was the eldest and all of the neighborhood pets respected his highness, the Golden Retriever.  All animals, except one, that is. You guessed it!  That spider monkey.

I brewed a fresh cup of coffee and decided to take my morning break in the den today where the coolness of the back door gave me fresh air as well as the sweet fragrance of the honey suckles.  I chose a notebook and pen for writing today rather than a laptop.  It just seemed like a great time to write while the neighborhood was quiet.

I could see Mr. Cat as he slithered and crept through the lawn grass believing he was being hidden.  He moved from one side of his defined circle to the other around a small bush housing a family of rats.  He had worked his way to the edge of the bush and was preparing to pounce when the spider monkey came from out of nowhere and pounced on the bush, coming up with a medium sized rat.  That monkey was screeching and jumping from bush to bush and across the lawn furniture holding the rat by the tail.  Mr. Cat was right behind him with a determination to claim his prey.  I was on the patio by this time and wanted to go and pick up Mr. Cat but he was not to be detained. The look in his eye gave me reason to think he was more interested in catching the monkey than retrieving his prey.

The spider monkey decided to climb higher so up into a tree he went but holding on to the rat was not part of his success. Mr. Cat did not slow down and up the tree he carefully made his way, ignoring the falling rat.  Eli the lab pup was at the base of the tree by this time and barking and jumping wildly.  When Shane reached the fracus the monkey was at the top of the tree and Mr. Cat was right behind him.  Shane rose up and barked.  He barked again. The fray ceased and they all stopped right where they were.  Well, all except that spider monkey.  He jumped and missed the tree in the yard next door so his landing was a long way down.  The fence between the yards hid the result of the landing.

I called them all to me and Shane and Eli came gingerly to receive my petting but Mr. Cat took his time cooling his anger as he made his way down the tree and across the lawn to where I had taken a seat beneath an apple tree.  He rubbed my legs and decided that was sufficient finding his quiet spot under an azalea bush. 

Things were quiet once again and we all managed to return to our original tasks.