End of an era

Friday was May 28, 2010, the day we lost our dear dog Chewy. Even though we had prepared ourselves for it it didn't make it easy when it arrived. It never does.

Dr. McGhee had put Chewy on a daily does of an anti-inflammatory for two weeks and then we expected to cut back to once every two days. Today would have been the two weeks. Chewy had been getting around better, not limping so much from his arthritis. And altogether acting normally.

Around 1:00PM Friday Ben called from the house to ask what vet we used. He said Chewy had a seizure. He said he foamed at the mouth, stretched his body out stiff and moved his legs like he was running. I called the vet but when Ben tried to load Chewy to take him he was confused and combative. Ben stayed with him for a while and called me later to say Chewy seemed normal so Ben went on into work. I couldn't wait for Randy to get home to check on him.

Turns out Randy was running late so it was me that checked on him when I got home. At first he was fine. He met me at the steps like always, tail wagging, ready for his supper. I fed him and he ate like normal. I guess I'd been home 15 minutes or so when Ran called and while I was talking to him I could see Chewy beginning to have another seizure. I had looked dog seizures up on the internet before I left work so I knew basically there wasn't anything I could do until it was over except remove anything he could get hurt on. The seizure lasted for a little over a minute.

When he came out of it he was very confused. Not wanting to be bitten like Ben I left him alone and watched. He was pointed toward the railing so I assumed he would turn around or back up and come toward me. He didn't. In his confusion he pushed himself through the railing and fell off the porch into the grass and pavers below. I watched him stagger under the porch.

By this time I knew I had to call the vet. I had already spoken to them several times during the afternoon. I went into the house to get my cell and when I came back out Chewy was on the lower terrace behind the house. He was still confused. He walking straight into the house with his head pointed toward the wall. Then another seizure began. He laid down. Before Randy could get here Chewy had another seizure laying there and could not get up. That was a total of 4 that we knew of and by this time he was very much out of it. As soon as Randy pulled up I called the vet to let them know we were on the way that Chewy was very bad.

Randy put Chewy on a rug to pull him away from the house then picked him up and put him in the back of the car. On the way over Chewy had 2 more seizures and his breathing was constantly heavy.

Once we got Chewy into a room and Dr. Lewis examined him he asked us about the possibility Chewy had come in contact with poisons, a sprayed yard or something like that. Of course nothing had changed around the house so that was eliminated but he kept asking us about it. The only way to confirm would be to give Chewy meds, keep him for observation and do a round of blood tests.

Earlier in the day when Ben called me he asked me if it wasn't just "time". As Randy and I stood there looking at Chewy and knowing he was out of it and anything we do would just put off the inevitable we looked at each other and knew what the other was thinking. After 14 years, 9 months and 2 weeks it was time. He was an old man, deaf with only one eye laying on that table suffering and it was time.

I asked Dr. Lewis what would happen and Randy signed the papers. Randy and I didn't leave Chewy. He was faithful to us all his life and we were not about to leave him alone now. After Dr. Lewis administered the shots Chewy passed away peacefully a few minutes after 6:00pm.

We are going to bring him back here on Monday, Memorial Day, and bury him on the property. It's only fitting. This is the home he loved, the only home he ever knew where people he loved, and who loved him, came and went.

I can just see it now

This has been a wonderful weekend. I typically don't go into town on Saturdays but this weekend there were errands I needed to run that took me there and I'm glad they did. Driving through town and walking around reminded me of a Norman Rockwell portrait of Americana. I'm so blessed to still live in one of those small towns that hasn't been gobbled up yet by big box commerce (though we are on the verge).

It actually all started Thursday on the National Day of Prayer. I met my sister at lunch in front of the courthouse where an event had been planned. Several pastors and others were asked to lead us in pray for various areas that touch our lives; our family, local, state and federal government, schools, etc. I expected a bigger crowd but the moderator said there were more here this year than last and he hoped next year would be even bigger.

Then Saturday morning as I drove through the mass of folks out getting their Mother's Day presents I passed a yard sale at the Methodist church. I didn't have time to stop but would have loved to. Up the road at the Middle School parking lot teenagers were fundraising by washing cars. Two guys were by the road waving homemade signs. A block up from there is our small Saturday morning farmer's market where local growers and craftsmen bring their wares. Homegrown tomatoes, beans, corn and handcrafted birdhouses and pottery are for sale.

By the time I got to Kroger I had a smile on my face already and then it got bigger. There were some little Boy Scouts selling colorful wooden rose buds as a fundraiser just in time for Mother's Day.

As I drove out of town I started thinking about all the Norman Rockwell paintings I have seen and concluded that my little hometown would have been a perfect subject for a Norman Rockwell collage. I can just see it now.

Hope is enough for today

I had a good day yesterday. It is not the first good day I’ve had since last summer but is one of the few. I feel like I’ve been in a fog. That is what depression causes. You find yourself in a place you’d rather not be and don’t know how to get out of.

I stopped going places by myself, including church. I felt joyless even around the people I love the most. I had anxiety attacks. It’s crazy. I tried to ignore it for a long time thinking it would just go away. It didn’t. Then I tried to handle it myself. I couldn’t. Then I went to counseling and hoped that would change everything. I learned things about myself that no one else understands. Or would believe really.

Who would have guessed I would be someone who feels insignificant. It was a real shocker to me. I’ve had confidence and a perfectly normal healthy self-esteem all my life. Why suddenly in mid-life would that be shaken??? Don’t know. And the counselor couldn’t help me with it to my satisfaction. I’m not going back at the moment.

But then that is the back-story. Yesterday I actually had a song in my heart. I danced – literally danced – in the living room. I took a walk. I got things done without sitting on the couch all day watching TV. It felt good.

There are some lingering questions, some unsolved issues but today I have hope. And hope is enough for me today.

That's My Girl

We celebrated Baby Girl's birthday yesterday. She brought some of her cutwork over for us to see. I saw the pictures she posted on Facebook but had not seen the real deal. There is a BIG difference.

I was blown away by the intricate detail. Can't believe she has the patience to do that but she loves it. There was one entitled "Rain Barrel" that I thought was one of her best pieces. There is a border with vines and flowers. Inside is a downspout emptying into a stripped rain barrel. The top layer is black and then there are layers and layers of color underneath. It's the same with the Queen of Hearts she did. She took a regular playing card, drew the design much bigger - about 9" x 10" - and did the cutwork in multiple layers.

I guess someone else does this type of work but I've never seen it. I hope she shows her work at Sautee. Having seen her work in person I'm like her DH's Grandmother - she should be selling this stuff.

I am so glad she is using a talent she has discovered. Nothing makes you feel quite like it. Her Daddy wanted her to play music. She did, then put it down. I wanted her to write. She did, then put it down. This is her own thing and I hope she keeps it up for a lifetime.

Later.....

Sweet, Sweet and Sweeter

I have had three nice surprises the past couple of days. First I opened my e-mail to find a note from my DD. It simply said, "I love you today". That is kind of a family thing we do. Randy and I started it. Saying "I love you" seemed so generic so we added the 'today" part to make it specific to right now, in the moment, and all day today. We didn't realize the kids had picked up on it until they were adults. On rare occasions I'll get a little "I love you today" from DD and it makes my day. Especially this time cause I don't know how she knew I was having a rough day. I guess it is that mysterious bond between mother and daughter where you just know stuff.

The other nice surprise was that it was a co-worker's birthday today. I had no idea she was born on St. Patrick's Day. So we took her to lunch. Of course I went to the restaurant's web site, looked at the menu and decided on what I was to eat beforehand. It is amazing that that was the first thing I thought of when they told me we were going out for lunch. I focused on planning ahead what I could eat so when ordering time came around I was confident. (Had the Pressed Veggie Sandwich for 3 points). This is a whole new way of thinking about food for me. And I am finding eating out pretty easy so far.

Surprise number three was an unexpected phone call from my best friend (who moved out of town and left me - whine). It's always so good to hear her voice and she was so excited about some quilting projects she has going. She is a good big younger than me and quilts like a demon. Our Dads passed away within months of each other. This weekend she came home, got some of his clothes and is making quilts from them. I can hardly wait to see the finished product. I'd wanted to do that with some of Daddy's but I have limited sewing ability.

So that's been my day. Sweet that I heard from my bestest friend. Sweet that I got to have lunch out with the girls. And Sweeter that my Baby Girl loves me.

Not gonna do it

You know what I don't enjoy? I don't enjoy folks who blog about their stressful day. (Chirp, chirp, chirp)

Yo Yo

This blog is like a yoyo. I come - I go - but I seem to always come back.

I have started another blog on Weight Watchers (WW). It's called "Too Much Empty Nest". Royston began a "Biggest Loser" contest and I decided I would use that motivation to lose 30 pounds. Some co-workers were on WW so I checked it out. I'm using the online version and love it (except when my computer goes wonky). So far I've had 2 weigh in's and have lost a total of 5 pounds.

DS has officially moved back in with us for a little while. Got too crazy in that house with so many people. He has lived in that type of situation before but this time it was with his best friend since high school and that was a recipe for disaster. He seems to be doing well on the job though and that's good. We don't see him much. He found a new girlfriend as soon as he moved back up here.

Talked to Baby Girl this week. She is volunteering at the zoo. Which I found out isn't a zoo really at all but a rehab place for animals that have been on the road - circus animals and such - or performing in theme parks. She cleans cages, washes tables and whatever they need her to do. I'm proud of her for doing that. Giving back is important and she has a soft spot for animals.

Granny and I were talking about her the other day. Every woman has doubts and fears about motherhood and I'm sure those have run through Sara's mind but Granny and I both agree we think she will be the best Mom. Of course she will struggle at first like we all do but once she gets the hang of it - and she will - she'll be great with those kids. They will be polite, she'll do fun creative stuff with them and she will love them with her whole heart and then some. And when they snuggle into her neck and she smells their baby smell and kisses their little cheek as they fall asleep and she knows that is her baby she will get what all mothers get in return. A bond so strong that until you are a mother you cannot even comprehend it.

Until next time ...

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".

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 !

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.

The party's over ...

The announcement party for Alex and Sara was wonderful. The day began with Randy, Ben and me heading over to set up. Alex and Sara joined us and by early afternoon we were ready for our guests. Mixers, receivers and mikes were in place for the music. Tables and chairs all set up. Fans turned on because it was HOT HOT HOT.

We went home, had lunch, cooled down a little, freshened up and headed back over at 3:00pm to turn on the food warmer, ice down the drinks and wait on the caterers who arrived right on time.

As they were setting up our guests began arriving and by 4:15pm we were in full swing. Randy officially welcomed everyone, Ricky blessed the food and the lines formed.

Alex was introduced to everyone and the wedding pictures were passed up and down the tables for all to see. I went from group to group, trying to get around to everyone. I think I ate a small plate of food – yes, I’m sure I did because I remember carrying it and my bottled water around with me as I moved from table to table.

We were so pleased at how many came out for the event. Most all of Sara’s friends that were invited came and her friend Beth brought her new baby. The group passed the little sleeping beauty around from one to the other, dreaming of the day they would have one too. Actually one of the friends is 7 months pregnant now.

So many members of our church family came. We had asked Molli to play some songs for us. So while everyone was having dessert she went to the piano and played 4 songs – one of which was entitled “Bagpipes” because our Scottish heritage was honored at the wedding. I thought that was so thoughtful of her. The last song she played was one that she wrote herself. As far as I know this is the first time she had played it to anyone except family. She plans to play it for her recital in July.

In addition to the usual suspects from the Lindsey side of the family we were delighted that Mattie, Doris and Aunt Margie made it. Mattie lost her husband 4 years ago, the same day Connie died. She said she thinks she is finally ready to turn loose and sell her house in Snellville. I told her she should just move up here near us.

Our dear friends, Brad, Gwen and their daughter Alexis also came. Before they left Brad said for us to be looking for him about 5-6 acres of land to buy up here. Alexis starts high school this fall so by the time she graduates they may be ready to build. I remember when they moved into the house where they live now. The kids were little and it seems like yesterday. Now my two are in college and Sara is married. Their Shelly is in college and Alexis has grown into this beautiful teenager. I really don’t know where the time goes.

Rounding out our guests were Vanessa, June, Aunt Sue and Andy from the Fouts side; Naomi, Marie and Deb from the Pendley side and Mike, Toniya, Arnold, Casey and guest from Ben’s friends.

After our meal was finished the entertainment began. Toniya and Tatelyn sang a song together. Then Randy, Ricky and Uncle Joe sang “Love Will Keep Us Alive”. After that Papaw joined them on the guitar, Rick picked up his trumpet and they all played and sang a little while.

It was a great, great day. Everyone seemed to have a good time - I know we all did.

And so…. what were my favorite moments of the day? Let’s see…

Alex pushing Sara around on the dolly cart during set up.
Me catching the guys shooting hoops with something soaked in the beer that wasn’t supposed to be on the premises.
When Alex and Ben danced to “Love Will Keep Us Alive”.
When everyone kept asking who the caterer was because the food was so good.
And finally, when I dropped into bed and fell asleep from the exhausting, but absolutely wonderful and happy day.

Yes, the party may be over but we have lots of memories that we will treasure and think about and tell stories of for years to come.


Rhonda

I'll Be Back......

Sorry I haven't posted. This is the countdown to the big party Saturday and Ben is in town. Mike and Toniya are visiting and Sara is due today. I even had to cancel my piano lesson.

It is so great having Ben in the house. He was here for the wedding but only for the weekend.

If anybody can tell a story it is Ben. I have stayed up WAY past my bedtime the past two nights listening to the stories.

I'll write more when it calms down. Ben will be staying through next Tuesday so it may be after that.

In the meantime....YEA SPECIAL FORCES - THE WICKED WARLORD IS DEAD !!!!!

Rhonda

Remembering Memorial Day ...

This is Memorial Day. It is a different one for me. Our family lost a soldier this year. David wasn’t immediate family he was a cousin’s son. We saw him at the family reunion once a year – if that. I heard about him through the family grapevine – that sort of thing.

I remember when he went to Iraq the first time. I was proud of him. I knew it was hard on his mom. But he came back and I saw him again at the family reunion. We talked a few minutes. He said he was being deployed again soon. I never once thought that would be the last time I saw him.

My sister and I went to his funeral. It was standing room only. As we went outside to walk to our car all of Jasper was out lining the street. I’ve never seen anything like it in our small town. We drove from the funeral home up to the cemetery and on either side were folks of all ages and all walks of life. They were standing there showing so much respect.

Many of them cried, many held their hands over their heart as we drove past. Though it was heartbreaking it was also heartwarming. It was a comfort. I would guess these folks didn’t know David personally, though they might have known of the family. It didn’t matter – he belonged to them.

All soldiers belong to us. They are our children, the ones we worry over, pray for. I hope they know how often we think of them.

Randy and I were staying in a hotel a while back. As we walked into the reception area one day a soldier was sitting there on the couch. He looked so tired. His bags were at his feet. I don’t know if he was headed in or headed out. But I knew one thing – he was his homeland's son, volunteering to serve and protect. I walked over and put out my hand. He shook it and looked a little perplexed when I said “Thank you”. He may have thought that he hadn’t done anything to be thanked for. But he had.

The life of a soldier is hard, the toll on their family heavy. When they come home the relief we feel is immense but they are never the same. Daddy came home following WWII, married Mom and raised the three of us. He seldom talked about his experiences until the last few years of his life and then we learned how close he came to not coming home at all.

When David came home we did not feel relief, we felt shock and sadness. But we also felt a measure of pride. David was a soldier in his heart and he served his country well doing what he felt he had to do. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Today is Memorial Day. It is a different day this year. We are living in a world without David…. and I remember.

Rhonda

That's no bull.....

There are two sports that Randy and I like to watch on TV together - football and bull riding. This weekend it was bull riding.

The industry is taking a step into the 21st century by testing some new technology and we had the privilege of getting a preview this weekend. A patch is placed on the bull that electronically measures the forces of kick and spin. By virtue of a weighted calculation the result is what they are calling an “Xtreme” score. The rides this weekend were being judged the normal way for the competition but were also issued the Xtreme scores. It was all very interesting.

The MOST interesting thing however for any bull riding competition is what happens around the shoot - normally when the bull - rider atop - rushes out in a jumping whirl of power while the cowboy tries to stay on for 8 seconds.

This weekend we got a "2 for". Not only did we get to watch the competition, but our favorite commentator was on the show - Don Gay. Now for those who aren't familiar with the sport, imagine the ability of Babe Ruth, the excitement of Harry Caray and the words of Yogi Berra all tied up in one bundle - that is what Don Gay is to bull riding.

We can be sitting around, watching a normal bull ride when suddenly something out of the ordinary happens. Don will get all excited and out will come one of his famous "Gay-isms". We were not disappointed this weekend.

A bull was in the shoot - cowboy atop - waiting for the command that would open the door. All of a sudden the bull got spooked and started bucking in the shoot. It is always scary when this happens because in a tight space like a shoot if the bull jumps he could crush the legs of a rider. Fortunately the rider was ok but during the moment Don let loose a zinger...

“Hair trigger in the buckin' shoot!!”

Randy and I hit the floor laughing!

Let’s just ponder what other circumstances might be appropriate for that particular “Gay-ism”.

You are keeping your 2 year old grandchild and just fed him a bowl of chocolate ice cream topped with Hershey’s kisses when his parents arrive to take him home.

“Hair trigger in the buckin' shoot!!”

You lost your beloved hound dog a few months back and your daughter feels like you need a new canine companion. She arrives with a dog carrier filled with a yapping little chihuahua.

“Hair trigger in the buckin' shoot!!”

And that's no bull....
Rhonda