Saturday, January 16, 2010

The Mini Stories of Me: In The Beginning

A while back I started writing a little series I call “The Mini Stories of Me”. Narcissistic I know but if I don’t tell my story who will. I decided to post a few of the “Mini Stories” here on my blog from time to time. Seems as good a place as any. Here is the first installment.

XXX

Introduction

It rained the day Daddy was buried. I wanted it to rain. Somewhere along the line someone told me once that when a good man dies the angels in heaven cry with joy to welcome one of their own home. Daddy was a good man.

In the days around Daddy’s death I took comfort from little things. An old boyfriend showed up at the funeral home and I was comforted to know he cared enough to come. A co-worker unexpectedly attended the funeral. And of course…the rain.

Thanks to Daddy my life had relatively little “rain” as I was growing up. He and Mother saw to it we had a happy childhood. It was post WWII and my siblings and I became known as the Baby Boomers.

My sister, Teresa, was first string having been born in 1947. At an early age she showed the signs of independence that we praise, and sometimes curse, now. She came of age with The Everly Brothers, Chubby Checker, sock hops and the Twist. Life was simple and innocent back then.

My brother, born 4 years later, came of age in the 60’s. The Beatles, Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones, Steppenwolf and Woodstock. Randall was my protector and I was often the thorn in his side. He tested Mother and Daddy’s limits by getting into more trouble than Teresa did. Then he was drafted into the Army and came back a different man.

I came along in 1957 – the baby. I came of age in the 70’s. The best music of any era came out in my time. There was Aerosmith, Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles, Grand Funk Railroad, “Thick as a Brick” and lava lamps. It was a great time to be a teenager.

The history of our family, to-date, spans over 60 years. Much has happened both good and bad but one thing has kept us going – the love of our parents for each other and for each of us. It is that love that made the good times so much better. And it was that love that made the awful times bearable. Even when our parents had the wisdom to sit back and do nothing but be a safety net – that was love. As a parent myself I now know how much effort that took.

It is by our parent’s example that each of us, Teresa, Randall and I, have learned to exhibit love to others in our own lives. First and foremost for our spouse who stays with us long after the children are gone, but most especially for our children. If we are not the example for our children then who will be?

So I begin this story – this journey – where it all began…when Mother and Daddy met and fell in love.


The Journey Begins

Daddy was born September 24, 1925 to Eva and Ira Fouts. Most folks pronounced their names E-ver and R-ee (long E, hard R). It was the Roaring 20’s so I assume times were pretty good. Grandpa Fouts worked at the Georgia Marble Company as a crane operator. As far as I know Grandma Fouts was a homemaker raising her 5 children – Gladys, Pauline, Daddy, Erma and Jimey. They owned a 2 story house on a few acres in Marble Hill, GA.

The following February – Feburary 10th to be exact – Minnie and Ed Pendley gave birth to twins. In those days no one knew ahead of time what they were going to have so the twins were a big surprise.

In the small communities that dotted this rural area families helped each other out. And the little Pendley family surely needed help. Here was Grandad who now had not one but two new babies to care for while not knowing if his wife was going to live or die from complications following the birth. Enter Grandma Fouts. Since Grandmother and Grandad Pendley were only expecting one child they only had clothes for one. So Grandma Fouts sewed clothes for the other baby.

Grandmother Pendley recovered and life moved on until Morris and Doris were in third grade. That is when love began to bloom. One of their classmates even made up a rhyme about them:

Morris and Doris went for a ride
Morris fell out and Doris cried

As they grew older they were not exclusive to each other. Daddy had an eye for one of the Richards sisters and I know that Mother had other boyfriends from time to time. But Daddy was the first and the one that got the girl.

Daddy joined the Navy when he was 17 years old. He wasn’t old enough to sign for himself so Grandpa Fouts had to. Daddy proposed to Mother before he left to go overseas. She didn’t accept then but waited until he returned home. I asked her a couple of years ago why she didn't marry him before he left. After all, there were loads of pre-deployment weddings during that time. She told me that she wanted to go to college before getting married. So while Daddy was fighting the Japanese Mother was attending Berry College in Rome and working in the dining hall for her tuition.

When he returned he asked her again to marry him and she said “Yes” this time. They were wed on April 6, 1946. There is a picture that was taken right after they were married that Sara loves. We all have a copy. They look so young and full of promise. They spent their honeymoon night in Atlanta. Mom told me that at the end of their stay Daddy didn’t have enough money left for the bus ride back home. Turns out Mother had stashed some money back and was able to get them home – good thing.

They walked wherever they went that honeymoon night and everywhere they were they heard the song “Oh What It Seemed To Be”. It became their song. Years later at their 50th wedding anniversary Teresa, Randall and I searched for and found a tape of the song. We surprised them by playing it for them. We kids danced with our spouses and Daddy stood with Mother and cried. It was one of the sweetest moments of my life.

Mother and Daddy were married from April, 1946 to August, 2003 when Daddy passed away. Fifty-seven years of loving each other and building a home. Not a home of wood and shingles but of the stuff that keeps folks together. Laughter, crying, shared good times and bad. Hard work followed by fun vacations. Wisdom, learning, failing, succeeding. Sometimes literally blood, sweat and tears. All this served to bind us together as a family, a strong family. One that has rolled with the punches and jumped back up for the next hit.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This is not the end, it is only the beginning. So with Daddy at the bow and Mother at the stern they began to sail through this thing we call "The Fouts Family".

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

2010 And In The Kitchen Again

I received a copy of the movie "Julia and Julia" for Christmas. It's the story of Julie Powell cooking her way through Julia Child's cookbook and blogging about it. Movie was really good by the way. But more than that it inspired me to get off my duff and start cooking from scratch again. Sunday, when Sara came over to watch the movie with me, I cooked a big vat of vegetable beef soup. Now that isn't really cooking from scratch - brown meat, throw in tomatoes, corn and peas - but served with warm yeast rolls it was a hearty home cooked meal appreciated by all in the house on a cold day.

Yesterday at lunch I found a recipe on tasteofhome.com for a casserole made with broccoli, carrots, chicken and Alfredo sauce with biscuits on top. I decided that is what I'd make for supper instead of heating a frozen Marie Callender's Al Dente bowl (as delicious and easy as they are).

It was so satisfying to be in my kitchen actually chopping vegetables, cooking raw chicken, mixing up biscuit mix. Not only that, it kept me from sitting on the couch watching TV.

If I have one New Year's resolution it is to sit less and move more. I have been a sedate empty nester too long. I am going to try and find little ways to accomplish my goal. Anything too big and I lose interest. Cooking is the perfect vehicle to get to my goal. It takes energy to cook and last night I was never still. Of course there is that real danger of eating what you cook. However I believe I have enough self control to limit myself to one helping (well, one helping and a donut last night :-)

So as I look forward to 2010 I do so with a new goal in hand, renewed interest in something I can accomplish and gratitude for Julia Child who has inspired one more admirer to get in the kitchen and cook without fear.

Bon appetit !