Christmas Moments 2009

Each Christmas holds special moments that you want to keep forever. Trouble is most are lost because you didn’t write them down or didn’t snap that picture in time. I snapped a few pictures this Christmas but there were far more moments that I just want to hug to me and hold a while.

For me those first moments began at our church Christmas play the week before Christmas. The play was large this year with a cast of 73 and 14 scenes to get through. Most of it went smooth and as planned (except the trial scene but we got through that one and no one but the cast knew any different). In the funeral scene I was the widow whose son was raised from the dead by Jesus. I was to cry and did even at every practice. One little girl was just amazed that I could cry like that. She said I was a good crier. I take that as a compliment.

The little fellows in our play were so cute. Some were angels, some were little pigs and all sang in the youth choir. They got right in there and did as they were asked. The night of the play we were all arriving early and getting our costumes on. The little ones were beside themselves with excitement and I'll never forget the director, Mary Jo, walking around with a camera, snapping a picture now and then and letting these little ones get all their energy out so they could be quiet when it really mattered. What a smart woman she is.

After the play we had a visit from Mr. and Mrs. Clause. It is usually just Santa by himself. What a treat to have Mrs. Clause wearing her red velvet dress and bonnet. Then afterward I got to hold Jalyn Dyer. She is my little surrogate grandchild. She will even reach out for me from her own grandmother. That doesn’t take anything away from Linda, she is clearly loved by all her grandchildren. It just means that this precious little girl knows I think she is special and she feels the same about me. Warm fuzzy …………..

We celebrate Christmas as the birth of the Christ child. In our family we commemorate that each year by having a different member of the family read the Christmas story from the bible. We started with Daddy years ago not knowing it would be his last time to read. Now 12 years later it was 16 year old Caleb’s first time to read. We went through the family once before but Caleb couldn’t read the last time his turn came around. Next year it will be Alex (God willing he is still in the country) and the next we will start over with mother.

We saw most of our nieces and nephews during the holiday. It was so good to see them because we love each one to pieces. For me the memorable moments were those watching the great-nieces and nephews open their presents this year. They actually got simple gifts with the economy being what it is but they delighted over each one as though it was just the present they wanted. It made me feel all good inside.

I may have been sick through the whole holiday but that didn’t take away from the joy I felt. We didn’t ask for or give each other extravagant gifts this year but we celebrated the one true gift God gave to us. The One I celebrate every day because one moment when I was 10 years old that child whose birth we celebrated made His way into my heart and from that moment on my life has never been the same.

Now that’s a moment to remember……

Here a tat, there a tat, everywhere a tattoo

I went to Christmas play practice tonight and one of the young men there, Ethan, asked me how Ben was. As conversations always do one topic led to another and we found ourselves talking about Ben’s tattoos. Ethan said he was going soon to get his first tattoo. It will be a cross and in the middle will be the dates his grandmother was born and died. I thought if a young man is going to get a tattoo how sweet that he wanted to get one in memory of his grandmother.

Some who know me might find it a little surprising to learn that I am a secret fan of tattoos. Not getting them, but looking at them on others. My kids have tattoos, as does Randy. When they gather at the house you can bet that sometime during the visit one of them will try and convince me to get one. So far I’ve held out.

I think tattoos are fine as long as you are old enough to get one. I don’t think 16 years old is old enough, or 18 for that matter or really your early 20’s unless it is tasteful, in the proper place and for the right reason.

Tasteful is subjective so I won’t comment on that except to say I have an aversion to skulls and vampires though dragons are good (Go Pickens !!). The proper place is where it cannot be seen while you are interviewing for a job or working on a job unless the folks you plan to work with are more covered with tattoos than you are. Some of the right reasons to get a tattoo in my opinion are to honor something that is meaningful to you, like your branch of the military or your heritage, or in memory of someone who was very special. These are things that don’t change and are a part of you forever as opposed to a girl or boy friend you dated for a while or the fad symbol of the moment.

I like it when someone works with the tattoo artist to come up with an original design. Those are so much more interesting. When our niece’s son passed away Randy and Ben wanted to honor his memory. Little Charles was a one of a kind kid who had a double portion of musical talent packed into his little 3-year-old body. To honor his memory they had the artist draw up snowflakes because his pre-school teacher used to call him a little snowflake. It was tasteful and for the right reason (though I would not have put it on the back of my leg like they did).

Can you really see me getting a tattoo? I’m 52 now, but one day I’ll be 83. My mother is 83 and can you imagine little Doris Fouts with a tattoo? It’s the silliest thing ever. And what would it be??? Randy has the kids so I wouldn’t want to do that. I could get a rose in honor of Daddy because he loved his rose bushes but I really don’t want a rose tattoo and well John Deere just isn’t gonna make it on me. So what to do????

WITHOUT !!!!!!!!!!!

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Yesterday was a mixture of the good, the bad and the ugly. The bad and the ugly was that most folks I spoke with had bad days.

My co-worker was late because they had to put her father-in-law in the hospital. My best friend called in tears because her cousin’s child has a dangerous tumor on her arm and they have to do surgery Wednesday. Randy’s day at work was not good. Our church play director's day was not good (not sure if it was work or a bad practice – maybe both). And on top of my day at work being exhausting and still not getting done all I needed to get done I received all the above news.

After work I had to run by the vet’s and then do that chore I really dislike – buying groceries. Though it could have been worse. It could have been raining. By the time I got home I was ill as a hornet and snapped Randy’s head off (sorry Sweetie). It was just really one of THOSE days. But then that was the bad and the ugly. There was also some good.

I did get a little joy out of my trip to the grocery store. You see just about every variety of folks there. My Grandma Fouts was a people watcher and she would have had a field day if she had been with me yesterday.

There were those folks who stand around outside the grocery store chatting, catching up on all the gossip while their ice cream melts. Inside was the lady in the motorized chair. Bless her heart she accidentally knocked over a bag of radishes onto the floor but if she hadn’t been speeding it wouldn’t have happened. I picked up the bag for her and headed around the corner.

Going down the pasta aisle I met a woman with a child in the cart seat who threw up his snack just as he got past me. Poor baby – poor mama. Watching the whole thing with us sympathetic mothers was a single guy, older man – handsome actually. How do I know he was single??? Because later, at the frozen food case, someone he knew asked him over for supper. He declined and said he was going to have a light supper tonight. Does that sound like a married man to you????

There were also the usual suspects. The giggly girls who run into you, act embarrassed, then talk about how funny it was. The rough looking teenage guys buying snacks. Don’t want to know what they will be doing later. The sweet little older couple. The friend on Facebook you hardly ever see in person. The former co-worker. You know how it goes. So while I hate buying groceries I do have to say the trip was interesting.

And here is the icing on the cake. My nephew, who has been out of work for 17 months, finally got a job. An answered prayer - what a great way to end the day.

Later.....

Thanksgiving

It is almost Thanksgiving and I am getting that mixture of dread and excitement I always get. Dread for the amount of work that goes into it and excitement that everyone is coming over once again.

Our house has become the gathering place for a multitude of occasions. While Mom’s is still the place to go for Christmas and some birthdays the other occasions are usually here. That was planned when we built the house. Though of course if I had to do it all over again I would make some changes. I’d take down a wall and expand the living room. But even without that everyone seems to have a good time when they come over.

Thursday we will gather again. The usual suspects will be here; parents, siblings and their families, children. One of the highlights of the day for me is the other guests that come. I have always enjoyed it when folks bring their friends over. And I usually don’t know till the last minute who it will be. While Ben was in college it was whoever couldn’t go home for the holiday. Some of them, like Michael and Toniya Stinnett, kept coming and are now part of our family.

You can bet there will be loads of food. There always is: turkey and ham without question and Mom’s sweet potato soufflé, my pumpkin pie. The fun part for me is what everyone else brings. I love seeing what my sister comes up with (though this year she is doing the turkey and helping Mom with the sweet potatoes (thanks !!). Wanda’s casseroles and desserts are legendary. My newest sister-in-law Brenda is doing the dressing this year. I’m glad. It takes it off Mom’s plate. Yum, it’s making me hungry just thinking about it.

The big unknown is the weather. If it’s pretty there is porch sitting and walk taking. If it’s yucky we will be stuck in the house but I have something up my sleeve for that.

The reason we get together this time of year for me is not so much to celebrate the Pilgrims (look what they did to the folks who were here already) but to remember what I am thankful for. All this month I, and other folks on Facebook, have been posting on a daily basis what we are thankful for. Some of it is the big stuff: our salvation, our families. Some of it is the small stuff: a child napping, a warm day.

That is what “Thanksgiving” is. Being thankful every day that you woke up, you have health to some degree, that you can still find a way to be useful, that you can be with folks you love and who love you. There are a million things every day to be thankful for. It’s just on Thursday we get the added enjoyment of a great meal when we say ‘Thank you Lord”.

Tomatoes and a Shake

Earlier this year I gave Mother one of those Topsy Turvy tomato planters. Since everyone had told us it wouldn’t work we were determined to plant it just to see for ourselves.

I went to the fruit stand and bought her a small container of plants and just for fun I bought one for me. Mine were Roma tomatoes. I had this bright idea that I would plant them in a planter and have salad tomatoes all season.

Mom and I - with the help of Nathan and Thomas – put her planter on the back porch. On the ledge below the planter Mom had put a small container of sugar water so ants would be drawn to that and not her humming bird feeder, which I thought was pretty smart. In addition to the ants, bees were also drawn to the sugar water therefore when her blooms began coming on the tomato plants there were lots of bees to pollinate the plant. Long story short, the plant grew, buds blossomed, bees pollinated, green tomatoes grew into red ones and TA DA the Topsy Turvey is producing tomatoes for her lunch. Total success.

I, on the other hand, could have been another story were it not for the happenstance of a radio broadcast one early Saturday morning.

Everyone in my family knows I have a black thumb. Oh I can plant but I’m one of those folks who doesn’t tend. Stuff has to be pretty hardy to grow around our house. The last house plants I had were ones Mamaw gave me. They got watered every once in a while. When Sherry and the twins lived here she took care of them for me but once she was gone they died a sad and wilted death. (I’ve since reused the pots so onward and upward but that’s another story). Having said that, I don’t know what made me think I could grow tomatoes to fruition.

I’d tried to grow tomatoes before in the flower garden. It was disastrous. Every morning and every evening I had to pick off these fat green worms that were eating the plants to death and who finally ate holes in the tomatoes – gross. I said I’d never try that again. How soon we forget. Or maybe not so soon since that was well over 6 years ago.

So there I was full of enthusiasm planting my Roma plant in a planter on the screened in back porch. My thinking was if the plant was right outside the door I’d water it and take care of it. And if it was on the screened porch high above the ground no fat green worms could get to it. Sure enough, I was right - I watered, I watched, and I waited. Finally I had a beautiful tomato plant with little butter colored blooms. So I watered, I watched and I waited but I had no little green tomatoes. I waited some more and still no green tomatoes. I couldn’t figure it out. I was doing everything right – or so I thought.


The only time I listen to the radio is while I am in my car. Kicks 101.5 (Cadillac and Dallas) in the a.m. for my daily dose of country music and either WSB 750 (Sean Hannity) or WGST 640 (Dave Ramsey) in the p.m.

One of these a.m. stations was on when I hopped into my car one Saturday morning to run up to have coffee with Mom. As I listened during the short ¼ mile, 1 minute ride there was an agriculture call in show on. Turns out someone called in having the same issue with their tomato plants as I was. What are the odds ???? Of course I listened intently.

The host told the caller that the most likely reason he didn't have tomatoes was that pollination was not taking place. Even if a bee doesn’t land on a bloom their wings shake the blooms and pollination happens. The host suggested that the caller simulate that process by using a battery powered tooth brush and holding it close to the bloom. The vibration should do the trick.

That was a real “Well Duh !!!” moment for me. Since my porch was screened in no bees could get to my plant. No bees, no vibration. No vibration, no pollination. No pollination, no tomatoes.

Now remember, I have a black thumb so the thought of watching for blooms, running to get the toothbrush and carefully holding it near the bloom while it “did it’s business” is just too labor intensive for me. Solution? I just shook the darn thing. When I saw a new bloom I’d grab the plant somewhere – didn’t matter where – and give it a little shake. In no time flat I started seeing little green tomatoes.

Today I have 2 small Roma tomatoes to have with my lunch, grown with my own black thumb and assisted by a little shake or two.

Everybody went through Grandma's house

When I was a child summer at Grandma’s house was a revolving door of company. We lived next door so naturally the company migrated to our house as well. It was great (most of the time). The cast of characters that came through taught me a lot about life, love, and tomatoes for breakfast with pepper on top.

Grandma’s sister, Aunt Azalee, always brought kids in tow. The guy, Tony, had a mean streak but didn’t bother me much. The girl, Peggy Sue, could also be mean but usually not to me unless her cousin was also staying that trip. Then they ganged up on me and made my life miserable for the duration of their visit. The best part about their visits was Uncle Porter. We’d take walks around Grandma’s yard and up around the garden. And we’d pick blackberries or grapes together.

Aunt Azalee was the one who taught me to eat tomatoes for breakfast and she put lots of black pepper on top. Nothing better than biscuit, gravy, eggs, bacon and tomatoes to get your day started. Yum….

There were loads of good-looking guys who came and went during the summers. I tried not to fall in love with my blood relations but sometimes the like was really strong. I guess Lynn was one of the first. Lynn was Vernon’s son. He had been brought up the old Southern way where men treat women like the jewels that they are. He was the most polite of my cousins, always helpful even without being asked. Vernon was a good-looking man and Lynn inherited his good looks. Yep, Lynn was a family favorite, which made it so devastating when he was in the car wreck. He didn’t survive. Proof once again that the good die young.

Then there was Kim. Kim was charming like Lynn but with an edge and much more humor. Where I put Lynn up on some sort of a pedestal Kim was right down there with me. Both of these guys were older than me but to have such great guys pay attention to me fed my ego to no end. I was spoiled and loving it.

Oh I can’t leave this topic without mentioning Craig. Now Craig actually wasn’t my cousin. He was my cousin’s cousin on their other side so we didn’t share a blood link. Therefore I totally fell in love with Craig, mooney eyed and the hole nine yards. I don’t think I did anything to embarrass myself while he was here but I sure did a lot of daydreaming about him when he wasn’t. And you can believe I looked forward to seeing him come around again.

What is funny is that a lot of the girl cousins felt about my brother the way I felt about all the guy cousins. My brother was (is) a handsome guy and he was not only handsome but also cool. At one point he had this little MG Midget, which was a tiny sports car with a drop top, and no back seat. What is cooler than that? He also got the best hair in the family. And truth is he was just plain fun to be around.

Enough of the love part now on to the lessons I learned from this parade of quirky individuals.

Think young.
Read. It makes you more interesting to talk to.
Family is everything. Keep it together.
If you burn the beans, that’s gonna be somebody’s favorite thing to eat.
Snuff tastes awful.
Don’t dare somebody to fight if you think you can’t win.
It hurts when you are bitten on the arm.
Cartwheels on green grass are fun.
Drugs get you in trouble and hurt others. Don’t do them.
Work as hard as you have to to support your family. That’s your responsibility.
If you hide a sex magazine, kids are gonna find it.
It’s not usually a good idea to put 3 kids over the age of 6 in a baby bed, even if it does make a great tent.
Catching crawfish is a little scary if you are a prissy girl.
It’s boring to talk to someone who either knows it all or has a negative attitude.

But I guess the best thing is Laugh. Laughter relieves stress, feeds the soul and is contagious. Laugh often, laugh till it hurts, laugh till you cry. Laugh with others and at yourself. And when you are done laughing get a big ‘ole glass of sweet tea, pull a chair up under the mimosa tree and chat with the cousins till it’s so dark you can’t see each other any longer.

Oh yeah….Good times…..

Here we go again.....

I was talking to Randy this evening about something that’s been on my mind for the past few weeks. Every few years I begin to feel that I need to “do” something important in my life. First it was be a mom. Then it was become a Sunday school teacher. Then volunteer for literacy. Then join the literary organization. Then help the kids finish high school and get to/through college. Now all that is over and I’m feeling a stirring again.

I was thinking about it on the way home. This is the time of life when most folks my age are beginning to have grandchildren. (No rush meant Sara). And while I would LOVE to learn I’m going to have a little addition I must wait patiently with arms aching. So what do I do until then?????

A few things came to mind. I could do as Sara did and get involved in our theatre group. I’m sure Tater Patch is always looking for volunteers. The up side is being able to get my creative side going again. I feel it has been dormant. The down side is spending less time with Randy and we already spend so little time together. Guess that idea is not a good choice.

I could get involved with Sassafras Literary Exchange again. I hesitate to do that though. Last time I attended a gathering it had gotten a little “uppity” and I didn’t care for the politics that was going on. I felt totally out of place in a place that used to feel like home. So that isn’t a choice either.

I guess the one thing that is pulling me, and that will allow me to still spend time with Randy, is my much neglected writing. Not the organizing of what I have written already but putting pen to paper and getting some new stuff down. However, as all who write know, it isn’t that easy. I’m one of those who waits on the words to find me instead of me going out to search for them.

Writing for me is a very mystical process. I ponder – sometimes for days – and then all of a sudden BAM words are falling onto paper faster than I can write. I hurry to get it all down and finally get to go back and read it. It takes some re-write and some moving things around sometimes but it’s usually all there.

Yep, I believe that focusing on my writing is probably what is currently missing in my life right now. Randy has told me for years I should publish something. Most of what I have written is poetry and folks don’t read (or buy) poetry. It’s nice to write and fact is it is most of what I write but it doesn’t sell. However it is good for my soul. I get great satisfaction from writing it or rather it writing itself through me.

Maybe I’ll just keep writing here. But if my past track record is any indication I wouldn’t wait up for it.