Category Archives: Things on my mind

Crying

I am a crier.  I don’t cry every day and sometimes I go weeks without crying, but I cry quite often.  Sometimes when I am happy and most times when I am sad.   I don’t really like to cry, but as one author wrote in his autobiographical book,  his bladder was close to his eyes, and I guess mine is too.    A sad story, a happy story, tragedy,  others’ sadness, my children, my husband, friends or family members passing, all have made me cry.  Sometimes I cry for absolutely nothing.   If you ever watched Everybody Loves Raymond on television, Deborah, Raymond’s wife was sitting on their couch one day just crying and Ray saw her through a window and wondered what was wrong.  When he found out she was just crying because she wanted to, he was dumbfounded and couldn’t figure out why she would want to do that.  My husband is uncomfortable when I cry because I am usually a strong, cheerful person.

I have seen friends and family go through some horrible times in their lives and I have cried with them.  Some things just seem unbearable at times, but I find that a good cry seems to let go of some of the grief held inside. One time I was going through a particularly bad time, I won’t go into it, but I was attending a Bible study with several women and all of a sudden, during the study I started sobbing.  I mean a complete breakdown with tears that would not stop. I finally got up to leave and one of the ladies followed me and asked me what was wrong and I told her.  She didn’t tell me not to cry. She commiserated with me.   The strange thing was, that after that good cry, things started looking differently and I felt much better. I didn’t know how much grief I had been holding inside.   I believe God gives us tears for a reason.  One day He will wipe away all tears.

Never tell someone not to cry. I have had friends who have lost their husbands and people have told them not to cry. How awful.  I would never tell anyone not to cry because to do so would be to hold all that grief inside. It’s not good for you. A friend told me the worst thing people told her after her husband had passed, was not to cry.

I was watching a movie on Amazon Prime the other day and there was a song on it called, “Let Me Cry.”  It’s about letting someone cry even if it makes you feel uncomfortable.    They need to cry.  It’s by Hillary Wells, someone I had never heard of before, but I looked up some of her other songs and they are tear jerkers.   I sat there, all alone in my living room and bawled my eyes out.   I told David about it later and started crying again.  He didn’t know what to do!

The movie, “Marley and Me” is one I cannot watch.  We saw it at a movie theater and  when it got to the really sad part, I got that choked feeling in my throat and then I sobbed.  One day at my daughter’s house, they wanted to watch it, but I had to leave the room when the sad part came on.  I hope you know what I am talking about. It’s a good movie, but sad.

So, do you cry?  Do simple things make you cry or do you need a big, awful thing to happen for you to cry?  I don’t know what you are going through now, but if it deserves a good cry, let it out.  Don’t hold back.   Then blow your nose and go on living. That’s all anyone can do.

I promise my next post will be about happier things.

From a crier and not ashamed of it. Bye.

I’m Going to Get Political Here

I write this blog for me and for my family to know what is going on in our lives. I don’t write it for popularity, to sell stuff or for recognition or awards.  And I write truthfully.  I write what I feel and I write what I believe and after reading so many blogs about gun control and bashing our president, I decided to put in my two cents, for what its’ worth.

First, I will tell you I know several teachers, in my family and friends. My brother taught math for years in high school.  I have grandchildren in public schools and grandchildren in a Christian school.  I worry about them all.  The shooting this week has rocked a lot of people and once again the Democrats have seen an opening to remove guns from honest, law abiding people.  A boy was bullied at school.  Then I watched as those children in that school bullied adults and shouted “Burn her, ” to one of the women who spoke for the NRA and I wondered, which one of those children were bullying that boy who shot up the school?    I wonder, is it because prayer and God has been removed from government schools?  I noticed the violence has escalated since that happened. We never had school shootings in the middle of the last century before school prayer was removed. My brothers would have their guns in their cars to go hunting after school.  No one got shot.

I wonder why taking guns away from all of us will keep the guns from criminals.  I wonder if the same people who are so upset about the murders of 17 children in one school are as upset about the millions of babies who are ripped from their mothers’ wombs every year? It seems the outrage is only popular if it’s liberal outrage.   I watched those children read questions that had been given them(you cannot make me believe that one boy wrote that question for Marco Rubio.)  I was horrified how people acted at that rally and it was a rally.  Don’t try to tell me any differently. A rally against guns.  Gun control.  That is the liberal mantra now.

I don’t know what the answer is for all this shooting. They never have told us why the Las Vegas shooting happened. That has been kept rather hush hush.  That man’s girlfriend disappeared and we never heard another thing about her. Some very strange things are happening in our country and it’s not President Trump’s fault.  ‘

Just how do we keep our children safe at school?  I have some ideas.  We have many veterans in our country who have been trained in the use of guns.  Many cannot find a job.  We could hire veterans to guard our children during the day. Besides keeping our children safe, it would teach children about the sacrifices our veterans have made.   The doors on schools should be locked at all times.  That boy just came in a back door. He shot the one guard. One guard for a school of  over 3000.  Maybe there were others. I don’t know that.   Teachers who want should be able to conceal carry and no one should know who has the guns.   I know this all sounds radical, but when you take God out of schools, satan walked in and now we are dealing with the consequences and since the liberals won’t allow God back in,  our children need protection.   If you have any better idea besides unarming every person in our country who is law abiding, I’d like to hear it.

I am praying for our children, our teachers and our schools.   Our teachers have a hard time of it.  Many parents with problem children cannot admit their child would do anything dangerous. I have heard stories about violent children in schools who cannot be removed because it isn’t politically correct.  And I hate the term politically correct. It’s harmed our country as much as anything else.   We need to get rid of it.  It was created for liberals to shut up the voices of conservatives. Well, I am not going to let my voice be quieted.

And all you who hate our president, just remember. Obama was not well liked by millions of us, but we didn’t get violent,  form groups, do rallies, or march with silly hats on our heads.  We just kept working and when time came for us to vote we ran to the polls and voted and that is what we will do again.   The more we are attacked, demeaned and obstructed, the more we cannot wait to vote.  This shooting is  wake up call, but it’s not the wake up call many think it is.

Now the Olympics.  I use to love the Olympics like I use to love the Academy Awards.  Not any more.  It’s all become political. I find it disgusting that an athlete, who lives in the greatest country in the world, who has had opportunities many of us have never had and who is blessed with a physical ability would use his or her platform to bash our president and while doing so, dismissing the millions of us who voted for him. The millions of us who use to love watching the Olympics. To be asked to the White House is a great honor. How many people get that chance. Even with Obama in the White House, if he had asked me to come, I would have gone. But no, there were some spoiled athletes who said they would not go if asked and now some of them won’t be asked anyway because they bombed at the Olympics and I don’t feel sorry for them. And those two who attacked Vice President Pence when he went to watch them perform were just being mean and they lied while doing it.

I know some of you who read my blog are saying, “Bye-bye” now and that is your prerogative.   I quit reading some blogs because they were so nasty about our president.   You can look back at all my blogs and I never said anything nasty about Obama or the Clintons who I believe are the biggest crooks in our country.   I probably won’t get political again for a while and at least I warned you.   Just wanted people to see there are other beliefs than what you have been seeing on CNN this week.

If you believe in God and are a praying person, I do ask you to say a prayer for our school children this week.  They are under attack and they need to be protected.  And God needs to be back in our schools.  For three hundred years the Bible was taught and prayer was allowed.  It needs to be that way again.  Bye.

In Sickness and In Health and Traps Aren’t Made For Animals

David and I have lived through our vows of in sickness and in health this week. We both have been battling the flu or something.  I think all you ladies reading this know that when a man gets sick, it’s the end of the world.  When you get sick, the laundry still manages to get done.  It took me three days instead of one this week. The food gets prepared,  the floors are swept, etc. etc.  When a man gets sick it’s twenty-four hours of “Whoa is Me,” and it’s a miracle if he gets bathed. Of course, what he has is always far worse than what you have.  Okay. I’m done with my pity party. This has been the looooongest week.  David got sick just as I was beginning to feel like returning to the world and then I got to feeling bad again and it was a vicious cycle. If David is not better tomorrow, he is going to the doctor, although I don’t think there is a thing that can be done with this flu.    I feel like I lost a whole week of my life some how.   I did manage to drag myself to the grocery as we were low on the healthy food, but my legs got like rubber while I was standing at the checkout line and I was hoping I would make it home.  I did.   But it was nice to just get outside.  We have been nowhere all week!    Today I am feeling better and went outside in the fresh air and played with Molly and Belle.  They have been so neglected, poor babies.

While we have been suffering illness, our daughter’s family was also.  But they had an even bigger catastrophe happen to their dog.  Their Golden Retriever, Oliver, started to roam a while back. They live next to a big forest, so he could roam without bothering anyone.  He didn’t come home one night and they were so worried, but he returned the next morning.  I found out yesterday he had disappeared again and had been missing for two weeks.   They were certain he had met up with some coyotes or some other disaster and he did.  The animal control officer in their county brought Oliver home.  He had been caught in a coyote trap for two weeks without food or water. The trap was attached to a tree and Oliver managed to get it pulled from the tree and he managed to crawl to a road where some poor woman found him and called 911. He was in pretty bad shape.   It sounds like something you would see in a movie because it’s really a miracle their dog made it.  They took him to the vet where he had to have his leg amputated.  Now he is home recuperating and Sara says he is doing pretty well.  He is just very thin.   The vet asked my daughter and son-in-law if they wanted to go public about this.   The vet belongs to a group that is trying to get rid of traps. She had just removed the toes from a horned owl that had been caught in one.   I think traps are the most inhumane way to kill any animal.  I have no problem with hunting when the animals you hunt will be eaten and they are killed outright without suffering, but with a trap, the animal can suffer for weeks before it dies.  Anyway, it’s going to be a story in their local paper and I hope it helps to get the news out how dangerous these traps are. What if it had been a human walking that woods?  No  one had better set any traps in our woods.

I really don’t have much to write.    I just hope the last two weeks of February will be far better than this last one has been.  Here’s to health.  You really miss it when you don’t have it. Bye.

Dr. Who?

I am sitting here typing, not feeling so well. Stomach is upset.  Why? Was it because I went to the doctor today or that I just ate Mexican?

I am a terrified patient.  Weeks before my doctor’s visit, I think about it and worry about it. I have to go every six months, whether I want to or not, because I am on certain medications.   Today was my six month check-up. I had worked myself into an almost panic attack state so it’s no wonder my blood pressure goes up.

I got to the office and walked inside and noticed some things were different. For one thing they did not have the sheet to sign in on anymore. I also noticed that a new doctor had moved in next to mine.  An infectious diseases doctor. Oh, joy.   Just what I needed to be around.  The nice lady at the desk told me they were going completely computer. All the files were gone and her office looked almost bare.  It was like I was a new patient and had to tell them my life’s history once again so they could put it into their new system.   She asked for my social security number and I asked for a piece of paper to write it down because I did not want a waiting room full of people to hear my SS number.  She obliged and I wrote it down and she laid the paper down and for all I know it sat there all day for anyone who came to her window to see and read my SS numbers!  I told the doctor about it when I saw him and he said, “I don’t let anyone have my SS number.” And I said, “Well, why do you need mine, then?”   I really like my doctor, don’t get me wrong.  We have this back and forth that probably sounds like two old married people arguing, but I know he listens and he has made me well many times in the past decades.

So then, when I was called back into the room to see the doctor, once again the computer.  They had to put all my meds into their new system again.  I think the girl who was doing it was a trainee as there was another girl just standing there watching her.   She took my temperature and blood pressure and felt my pulse, which by then I thought was beating very rapidly. “Sixty beats!” She said, which I think is normal for a woman.   After I saw the doctor, I had to have blood work done and the girl who came in was getting things prepared and she asked me if I was afraid of needles.  I told her, “No, I have had so many needles stuck in me through the years, they don’t bother me any longer.”   Years ago when people had to get multiple polio shots, I remember being terrified of the needle. It didn’t help that my sister teased me, telling me the needle was about a foot long and the shot was very painful!

So, the girl taking my blood said and I quote,  “I am terrified of needles.”  I was slightly alarmed and said, “And you are taking blood with a needle?”  She just laughed and said she was only afraid of the needles that were being stuck into her.    She did an excellent job. I didn’t even feel anything.

Finally I got to leave and I checked out and got my date with the doctor in six months. The girl who filled out the appointment card did it very carefully, coughed on it and handed it to me.  What in the world.    I washed my hands when  got home.

Tonight we went out to eat at my favorite Mexican restaurant and I ordered a beef burrito with refried beans and rice.  When it was brought out it was on three separate, loaded plates and I guess my eyes looked surprised. The waiter was a jokester and started to put David’s plate in front of me, too.  We all laughed. Ahem.  I started feeling sick after a few bites and brought most of it home with me.

It’s been a wonderful, Spring like day.  I noticed some flowers are coming up on the south side of my workshop.    I worked all afternoon going through my library in preparation to move the bookcase in my shop so I can do more painting..  So many wonderful books.  I will write about them soon.

Here’s to good doctors and the patients that keep them in business.  Bye.

Some Things Are Too Sad

I had a whole other post I was going to write, but this week has been up and down, mostly down and there are just some things too painful to write about.  Another church friend’s husband   passed away this week and I helped with the funeral dinner.  He was such a nice man. Talked to another friend, who was helping with the dinner, who had lost her husband just weeks ago.  The pain these women have had to endure is more than I can imagine.

But it got worse when some friends from church lost their son in a tragic car accident.  I can’t talk about it.  I taught that boy in Sunday School and his parents are two of the nicest people.  I will leave it there and will keep them tightly in my prayers.   We never know when we will have the last conversation with someone we love or will see them again on this side.   Too often I forget that and when something like this happens, I think long and hard about how I treat people.   I never want my last words to be mean and hateful.  I was taught that lesson in a very hard way years ago when I was a young girl.

Now I loved my daddy and still do, but when I was growing up I could be rather sassy.   Daddy said something to me or made me angry about something one day and I told him I hated him. The very next day he almost died.  He was overcome with exhaust from his little Ford tractor and collapsed in the barnyard.  At that time it was very difficult to get an ambulance out in the country. It was a long distance call and my mother and her friend, who lived down the road, tried and tried to get an ambulance to come.  Meanwhile, my brothers and I were taking blankets out to cover my daddy and talking to him. He had bubbles coming out of his mouth and I was sure he was dead.  Finally, the ambulance came and took Daddy to the hospital and he got better, but I have always remembered that and that my last words were ones of anger.  It’s a horrible thing to think the very last words a loved one might hear from you are ones that hurt them.  So, I try to never leave someone with anger. I’m not saying it hasn’t happened, but I always pray afterward that they will forgive me and that God will keep them safe.   I never told my daddy I hated him ever again. In fact, my very last words to him before he passed away were, “I love you, Daddy.”  So glad I have that memory.

There have been other things going on.   I try to keep busy to keep my mind off sad things all th time.  I have been working in my shop trying to get it painted.

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I wish all my shop looked as freshly painted and organized as this part from the wall to the end of the grey paint. Unfortunately,……………

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This is how the rest of it looks. So much stuff.  As I was trying to walk around my shop I was thinking it was like one of those hoarder’s houses they show on tv where you have to climb over and around stuff to get to anything.  It will NOT look like this when I am done.  I have to move all this to one side to paint and then will have to move it all again to another side and then try to get it all put on shelves or get rid of some things.   That rooster picture is going in the hens’ house.  They will appreciate it more than I do.  The little brown cabinet under the cutting table holds my mother’s sewing machine. The very one I learned to sew upon many years ago. It still sews wonderfully.  If I could get to it.  I expect it is going to take me weeks, if not months to get the shop the way I want it to be.  And that cutting table is going because David is going to make me one about twice as wide so I can pin King-size quilts on it.

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The Grandboys were here to celebrate David’s birthday.  They had learned to play the game, Spoons.  I played it many years ago and had forgotten how, but soon learned and we had fun playing it.  I’m glad I have grandchildren who still like to play games.

The people where David works got him some things for his birthday. Now David is a sugarholic and absolutely loves milk chocolate covered cherries.  Here’s what he got at work.

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Five boxes of chocolate covered cherries, four boxes of Junior Mints, which he loves, too, and three bags of Dove cherry candy.   I had also given him several boxes of chocolate covered cherries because I didn’t know he was getting all this.

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A man and his riches   We laughed about this and the card was about texting since they know David and I don’t text.  I think he was a happy man.

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Valentine’s Day will soon be here and if I can get it in gear, I plan to send out some cards. I haven’t sent Christmas cards in years, but for some reason, I really like sending Valentine’s Day cards.  People don’t expect them.

Here’s a book I just finished.  I really like this author and she has written several books so I have a few more to read.

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I am reading “A Week in Winter” by her right now, plus I have a murder mystery on my Kindle I am reading.  I never want to be without a book to read.   We are studying Revelation from the Bible also, so my mind is going all different ways.

Hope your days have been going well. Hug your loved ones or give them a call.  Bye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Learning in the Fifties

I grew up in the fifties and sixties of the last century.  That sounds like so long ago, but to me it seems just like yesterday.  I attended a little school in a little town of about 400 people where the first through the senior classes were all in one building.  A two story brick school house with no air conditioning.  When it got hot, we opened the windows.  It was heated by a big furnace in the basement cared for by our one janitor, Mr. Mikesell.   I sat at desks where there were holes for inkwells  in the top though we didn’t use them anymore. My desk had carvings on it that other pupils had made while sitting in them.   Our books and yellow writing tablets were put underneath on a shelf.   The classroom smelled of chalkdust, paste and crayons.

We had a music teach, Miss Hower. She seemed like a little woman to me even though I was a little girl. She would come to our classroom once or twice a week to teach music. She was always wearing a dress with a full gathered skirt, a jacket or sweater and tiny heels.  She was soft spoken, but she taught us well. She had one of those pitch pipes she would blow to get the note we were to start on in a song.  Our favorite time in music class was when we could pick out the songs to sing in our songbook.   Now, I don’t know what crazy things they may or may not be teaching in public schools today, but our choice of music was not what I would think children should be singing in the classroom although I loved these songs.  One of our favorites was called, and I am serious, “There is a Tavern in the Town.”   I can still remember all the words.  Picture a classroom of second and third graders belting out this song at the top of their voices.

There  is a tavern in the town, in the town.

And there my true love sits him down, sits him down

And drinks his wine mid fancy free

And never, ever thinks of me!

Fair thee well for I must leave thee

Do not let this parting grieve thee

But remember that the best of friends

Must part, must part.

Adieu, adieu kind friends,  adieu, adieu, adieu

I can not longer stay with you, stay with you-u-u

I’ll hang my heart on a weeping willow tree,

And may the world go well with thee.

I can’t imagine what my father and mother thought of this song as they did not drink, but I am sure I sang it around our house. I loved it!

Another song we sang was “Barbara Allen.  A song that always made me sad.

I know there are several verses to it, but I can only remember three of  them

Twas in the merry month of May

When the green buds they were swelling,

Sweet William on his death bed lay.

For the love of Barbara Allen.

Oh, mother, mother, make my bed

Oh, make it long and narrow.

Sweet William died for me today,

I’ll die for him tomorrow.

And here’s where I would feel like crying…..

They buried her in the old church yard,

And they buried him beside her.

And from his grave there grew a rose,

And from hers grew a briar.

And the song from the war years, years before any of us were born.

Don’t sit under the apple tree

With anyone else but me,

Anyone else but me,

Anyone else but me, no, no, no.

Don’t sit under the apple tree,

With anyone else but me,

Til’ I come marching home.

I just got word from a guy who heard

From a guy next door to me,

The girl he met just loves to pet

And it fits you to a T!

So, don’t sit under the apple tree

With anyone else but me,

Til’ I come marching home.

We probably didn’t even know what petting was at that age, but we loved singing that song.  My question is, who put those songs in children’s songbooks back in the fifties?   I find it funny now.

We had three recesses every day. One in the morning. One after lunch and a third in the afternoon.  In good weather we would race to the schoolyard trying to get one of the swings before they were all taken.  These swings swung high and we’d swing so high the chain would buckle and of course we would jump out at the highest point.  There were teetor-totters and we tried bumping each other off them by dropping down hard on the ground while the other one was in the air.  I had the wind knocked out of me several times doing that.  Playgrounds looks so dull and uninteresting now and I wonder how the children can have fun in them.  We had a merry-go-round that the big boys would spin while the rest of us would hold on for dear life. I lost several dress sashes on the merry-go-round when they would get caught and I would fall off.  I look back now and wonder how we all survived, but we did.  And it was glorious fun.

If you have seen the movie, Christmas Story, my classrooms looked a lot like Ralphie’s  and his teacher reminds me a whole lot of my first grade teacher, Mrs. Retherford.    I loved school, but would cry every Sunday night when I realized I had to go back to school on Monday.   We had three reading groups, the Cardinals, the Bluebirds and the Robins. The Cardinals were the best readers and I was in that group as I had pretty much taught myself to read before I went to school.  I have never lost my love of reading.  I felt sorry for the Bluebirds who were struggling learning to read.   They all learned to read, though and that is what was important.

When someone would get sick in the classroom and didn’t make it to the bathroom which was in the basement of the building, Mr. Mikesell would come in with his mop and bucket and as we kids watched fascinated, he would mop up the mess without acting like it affected him at all while we kids went “eww” and “ick,” and when he left, our teacher would thank him and he would shake some good smelling powder on the floor.   It was a common occurance in our classroom, it seemed.

When it was too bad to take recess outdoors, we would play in our classroom, writing on the blackboard, coloring or jumping rope. I loved jumping rope and could jump hundreds of times before the rope would catch my legs.

Lunch time was the social time of the day as we would sit with our friends and either ate our lunch we brought from home or ate a hot meal prepared by the cooks, who were usually someone’s mothers.  The meals were delicious and we could go back for seconds.  One of the cooks baked homemade cinnamon rolls once in a while and you could smell them baking all over the school and by lunchtime you would be so hungry.  Friday was fish day for the one Catholic family who lived in our school district.  I loved fish day.

So many memories of my school days.  I pretty much loved learning and still do.  My second grade teacher, Mrs. Farmer, turned me onto writing and I thank her for teaching me how to write a good story.  My first story was about an apple and what happened to him as he was picked and taken to be made into apple cider.    I wish I still had that paper.

How was your school years?  Do you have fond memories or would you rather forget them?  Good teachers can make a big difference in how children look at education.  Here’s to those teachers who made us want to learn.  Bye.

2018

We are standing on the threshold of a brand, new year. It’s like getting a new box of crayons, a new unmarked journal, an unread novel, a bright, shiny penny, a new fallen snow that no one has walked on.  It’s so fresh and new you can smell the hope in it.

I am leaving 2017 with gratitude, relief and a little sadness. It was a good year in many ways, but a sad year also as we lost several church friends and a family member.   It’s been a year of ups and downs with mostly ups, thankfully.  It held many surprises, some tragedy and some comedy.

This year I want to be more faithful, less fearful of new things, more determined in my quest to walk 10,000 steps a few times a week and more happy in my circumstances.   I managed most of these in 2017 except for the walking bit. I kind of slacked off on that.  Right now we have the most frigid temperatures we have ever had to endure the last few years so it’s hard to want to get outdoors and walk.  Oh, and I want to knit lots and lots of socks!

We are planning our trips for our fiftieth wedding anniversary. So far we are planning trips west, south and northeast.  It’s going to be a busy year.

I wake up every day thinking “who can I bless today.”   I write this blog not to make people think how wonderful my life is.  My life is just like yours.  I have my good days, my great days, my lousy days and my sad and lonely days. Some days I’d just prefer to stay in bed, but I get up and get going because I don’t want to be a slug.    But even through everything, I hope I have touched someone in a way that will help them.  We aren’t alone on this planet.  Everyone wants to be loved. You are.  Everyone has pretty much the same needs. I am interested in all of you.  I hope your year will be kind to you. I hope you have good health.  I hope you have someone to love.  I hope you never feel so alone that you think no one cares.  Someone does.  I hope when 2018 is over you can look back and say, “I made it through and it wasn’t so bad.”   I really hope you can look back and think, “Wow, what a year!”

Love, don’t hold onto anger, forgive, take chances, and remember the One who is always there for you.  Happy New Year, everyone!  Bye.

Scrambling

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas are always a blur to me.   It seems like when Autumn gets here I should put on my running shoes and take off with a bottle of water in my hand to keep me hydrated as I scramble through the days.

I am really not the busy, I don’t think.  I don’t have a job.  I don’t have children I have to ferry here, there and everywhere.  I don’t even have a very demanding husband who is always asking me to do things.  I’m just saying, the days seem to fly by like the wind and when a week is over David and I look at each other and say, “That week went fast.”  Maybe it’s our age and the space, time, continuum thing, but I can almost see the world turning, it’s going so fast. I also tell David I can hear God’s voice whispering to me constantly and I am wondering what He is telling me.

I don’t watch that much tv although I have gotten hooked on The Crown on Netflix and have been watching that.  Man, am I glad I was not born into royalty.  I would have hated all my time planned for me every day.  And not being able to leave your house without the media watching all the time would make me downright crazy.  And your privacy certainly is not private.  Poor Elizabeth and Phillip cannot even have an argument without someone noticing and reporting that their marriage is on the rocks. If David and I were watched like that, people would think we were getting a divorce all the time because we do argue a bit at times.   Don’t all couples?  But if you are royalty you are expected to be happy all the time and give a good show to the public. That is not for me.

We also finished watching Longmire on Netflix.  We always watch a show during our evening meal because that is the only time David and I watch anything together.   I really hated to see Longmire end and I won’t give anything away, but I was not happy about something that has bothered me the entire series and it bothered me at the end.  That is all I am saying.  I had kind of a crush on Longmire. That handsome, rugged, cowboy look set my heart to pitter pattering.  David, if you are reading this, you make my heart go pitter patter all the time.   And one other show I have been watching while I knit is the Roosevelts.    It’s  a Ken Burns documentary and I am learning a whole lot of history about our two Presidents Roosevelt and their lives and their families and the times during which they were presidents.    There is something about Teddy Roosevelt that reminds me of our current president.   In a good way, of course because I am not a Trump hater.

But back to time.  I have worked on Christmas gifts for weeks and finally today I am finished buying and making presents and next week David will wrap them.  I don’t like wrapping.  David does a great job and is very meticulous and his edges are crisp and he does not waste paper.  My wrapping looks like a two year old had a tantrum and had some paper and tape handy.

We have attended a couple of our grandchildren’s Christmas programs at their school.  That always gets me in the Christmas spirit.  I have been taking lots of pictures and one day soon I will put them on here when I have time.  There are some things I just cannot show right now because there are people who should not see things before Christmas if you know what I mean.

Hope your days are going well.  All of you all over the world who read this blog, I just want to tell you, I think about you and wonder about your lives and hope all is well in your part of the world. At this Christmas time I wish the world and our country could all come together for a few days of peace.  We all need it.   I like to think if all those who read my blog could get together, we would all like each other and have a great time getting to know each other.  Wouldn’t that be fun?     I’ll bake the cinnamon rolls. Hope you aren’t gluten free or carb free because my cinnamon rolls are to die for.  Bye.

The Day Before Thanksgiving

I am the chief cook and bottle washer at Thanksgiving.   I’ve been that for going on fifty years.   We did use to go to our son’s house for Thanksgiving, but now he lives in Chicago and that is too far for most of us to travel, plus we all would have to stay overnight and go home the next day. Since our house is central to most of the family, I make the dinner.

I got up this morning before Thanksgiving and hit the floor running.  First I went outdoors and let the dogs out of their pen, fed and watered the chickens, checked for eggs(they have been providing us six eggs a day lately,)  and put out fresh water for the dogs. Then I came inside and made rolls, got the noodles made and rolled out(made with our good, fresh hens’ eggs,) made scalloped oysters, put chicken thighs in the crockpot to make broth for the noodles, made sunshine salad, cleaned the downstairs bathroom, mixed up some cranberries and sugar to cook in the oven, and boiled eggs for deviled eggs. I still had not gotten out of my pajamas or brushed my teeth.

I am taking a break and this afternoon I will cut the noodles, pull the meat off the chicken, make another salad, make the deviled eggs, bake the oysters because I think they taste better the next day and clean the kitchen.  Tonight I will collapse in a chair and watch one or two episodes of Doc Martin, which is my very favorite show right now and get to bed earlier than usual for the big day tomorrow.  We are having chicken and noodles(because our family is not fond of turkey,) ham, homemade rolls, mashed potatoes, scalloped oysters, deviled eggs, home grown corn, two salads, cranberry sauce, pecan pie, cherry pie( Marie Callender’s because I  love her pies) and pumpkin cake with whipped topping.

Then I plan not to cook for the rest of the weekend!  And probably shouldn’t eat much either.

Make the day after Thanksgiving Outdoor Day Friday instead of Black Friday. Instead of getting in the crowds to push and shove to get one more present that will be forgotten two days after Christmas, get out and take a walk with your family, or friends or your dog. Smell the fresh air.  Look at nature.  You will be richer and healthier for it.   That’s what I plan to do.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving and remember the One who provides all our blessings.  Thanks be to God.  I have so much to thank Him for.

Here’s to Thanksgiving and the Pilgrims who started it all. Bye.

Riding the School Bus

When I was a little girl I longed to ride the school bus. Every day I would watch my older brothers and sister climb the steps of the bus and head to school.  I always missed them when they left and couldn’t wait until they got home.  When it came near time for the school bus to bring them home, Mom would tell me  and my little brother, David, and I would run out to the swing set by the road and sit in the swings and wait.  When we saw the school bus coming down the road we got all excited.  The bus was always noisy and it just looked like fun to me

Finally the day came for my first day of school.  Mom tied the sash of my new dress into a pretty bow and brushed my hair.  I was so excited.   I was going into the first grade. Our little school had no kindergarten and went from first grade to grade twelve in the same building.  I already knew how to read as I pretty much taught myself.

Suddenly my brothers yelled, “The school bus is coming!” and out the door we all went and crossed the gravel road and waited for the bus to stop.  The steps were high and I was little and the bus driver looked scary.   I climbed the steps and stood there facing strangers staring back at me. I quickly took the very front seat while my brothers and sister went to the back of the bus.   Down the road we went.  We picked up a little girl whose nanny goat had followed her down her long lane.  I learned her name was Jennifer and she sat by me.   We soon became friends.  We were both in the first grade.

When we got to school, we all piled out and went to our classes. My sister probably took me the first day as I don’t remember how I found my room.  The day seemed long and I was homesick and couldn’t wait for the bus to take me home.    For the longest time during my first year of school, every time the bus brought me home on Friday I thought I was finished with school. In fact on Sunday nights when Mom would tell me I had to go to bed early because school was tomorrow, I would start to cry.   It’s not that I hated school. I just loved being home with my mother so much more.   But I would get on the bus on Monday morning and go to school once again.

As I became an old hand at riding the bus, I became more courageous.  Now we had a bus driver, Cecil Richmond who ran a tight ship. No one was to change seats and loud talking was not allowed. He carried a switch over his visor and he kept his eye on his passengers at all times. He scared me to death.  I never saw him use the switch on anyone, but I wasn’t going to test him. I did forget once and changed seats and he yelled at me.  I never did that again!  But he wasn’t all bad.  Mr. Richmond ran a gas station in our little town  and every Christmas, as long as he drove the bus, on the way home from school on the last day before Christmas break, he would drive his bus to his gas station, get out, go inside and come out carrying boxes of candy bars for all his passengers. Back in the 50’s you could buy regular candy bars in a pack of six.  That is what he gave each of us. A six pack!  We looked forward to it every year.

When Mr. Richmond retired, my best friend’s father drove the bus through my senior year. We all knew each other then.  Now I wonder if parents know who is driving their children.

I have fond memories of sitting in the back of the bus and gossiping with my girl friends, learning how to kiss( we used our arms to practice kissing) and when we got older, flirting with boys in cars behind the bus.  I had a boyfriend one time we picked up on the way to school and I always couldn’t wait to see him.  Yes, I have kissed boys on the bus, including my husband when we went to the same school.    Later, during the basketball season I would ride the booster bus to the games in other towns and it was the most fun.  We would sing and flirt with the boys and yell cheers for our basketball team.  The bus driver had to have had a lot of patience or he wore ear plugs.

Nowadays most children are driven to school by their parents.  The big yellow school bus still goes by where I live now and I always think of the fun times I had riding one.   My children rode the bus. I said if it went by our house, they were going to ride it.   They did until they got older and either caught a ride or had a car of their own.  I wonder if kids like riding the bus as much as I did growing up.

Here’s to big yellow school buses and the people who drive them. Bye.