My Daddy - Memorial Day 2011

These are the same pictures I put on Facebook today, but I wanted to write a little about my dad tonight. He was one of the blessed ones to come back from World War II when so many of the young men of that time didn't. Daddy was a man of few words regarding that war. I am not sure he wanted to remember too much and he definitely did not want to get emotional, about anything, really. Memory: When I was about 10 years old, I found a bundle of letters he had written my grandmother. I guess she had saved them and gave them to him. I remember finding them in the wooden box which held all my parent's valuable papers. I was hidden in the closet reading these letters when Daddy found me crying my eyes out. Even though the letters were full of holes from censorship, there was enough information for me to know that war is awful. Daddy was in Siapan and later Okinawa. In these letters he was describing the horrors of what he was witnessing and he was writing my grandma that the letter he was writing might be his last, etc. When Daddy found me crying, he destroyed them; he burned them. I sure wish he hadn't done that.


Daddy died in 1999, but about 10 years prior to his death, one of the ladies in his church urged him to write about his experiences through his life and during WWII. I want to share a bit of his book with you. I am copying them as he wrote them, not necessarily grammatically correct. I have deliberately skipped some things as they are a little more graphic than I wanted to post.

As a kind of preface daddy wrote "I will hit my service time in a general way. Spent some good times and some bad. Will try not to bore you." If he only knew how little he bored me......


"We left out went to Siapan and went ashore. The island had been invaded by marines and army infantry 7 days earlier. We went in without opposition. set up our area - placing our guards around our sleeping areas. I was put out to guard with my buddy where we sat back to back. This night was the first time I was to see enemy fire. "

"This was also the night I first smelled dead being hauled by the truck load back from the front. Very unpleasant. We were moved further inland where we started doing various jobs - all connected to a B-29 runway being built. Out outfit set up a rock crusher. We went to work on a big hill-which when we got it cleaned off was corral rock. I had been trained to handle dynamite by old Penn. miner who was a little reluctant because he thought that after the war I might go back take his job away from him (NO WAY did I want that). I was a demolition specialist finally got in charge of one of the crews. We worked 24 hours a day."

"The runway was finished in due time. In fact it was a high priority job. We got to see the first B-29 come in and land escorted by navy fighters. It wagged its wings as it approached. It was a huge plane. The larges in the world for combat."

"One day we loaded on the flat bottomed L.S.T.s and headed for unknown places. After a few days we were told we were going to Okinawa. There was a large group of L.S.T.s in the convoy. On arriving at Okinawa we were treated to air raids. The Jap planes would fly over to drop depth charges, bombs, etc - then if they were hit they would pick a ship and dive for it - hoping to take someone along. Often were successful. Meantime our gunners would try to blow the planes up before they came down on someone. One plane dived for us but missed. Went between us and D company, made a big splash, sank out of sight."

"Our turn came to land and we rammed the L.S.T. up on the beach. Opened the bow doors started to unload. A navy plane came up the beach (I didn't know what kind of plane it was but right in front of our ship it turned up a wing. There was our U.S. star. Made me sick, but it went over behind a sand dune bounced a time or so, disappeared. We had our own job to do. (Heard later pilot got out ok.)"

"After a hectic day after "smoke on the water and the land" we were put ashore and went on in to establish our camp and as usual we put out guards and prepared for the duties the next day. We were assigned to keeping the roads open as it had begun to rain. We would work all night keeping water drained off roadway."

"Got to watched several dog fights of Jap planes - usually P38s which was a fast twin tail plane - P-47 a very fast plane. Also on the island was the famous "black widow" a night fighter was heavier and larger plane."

"Our first typhoon experience was one I will never forget. We had been hearing of one that was headed our way from the South Pacific, so we were kinda prepared. How those winds did howl. All native villages had high hedges around and inside the villages and could withstand the winds where even our Quonset huts which were made from steal were twisted up. The hospital huts were made especially strong. One night I spent in the hillside caves were the natives buried their dead but I went right on in. The bones were lying out on blankets or in urns as might be appropriate. But howling winds were outside.

"One night it was announced that war was over. The night sky lit up with tracer bullets (usually every third bullet was a tracer). Guns were going off in every direction. I went to my fox hole. It had a top on it - stayed until things calmed down."

"But after storms was trucked to my new outfit where I was to work and wait my ship to go home. I would look out over the bay and wonder why they couldn't find a small place for me. Well they finally found me a ship - while going up the hill to climb the rope ladder to board the ship I looked back on the cemetery where the thousands of white crosses were. A lot of dead boys were put to cross and a few women."

"I caught a taxi cab for my home out here on Moccasin Trail. Cost me 5 dollars. I was let out in our gate and my mother came running out to meet me. It was the first time I ever noticed how grey her hair was. But I was home (underlined - rt) - yes home (both words underlined - rt) where a new life was to begin for me - guess I will call it "after the war".

My note: I wish each of you could read this book because it contains so much more than I wrote. I didn't touch on all his accomplishments one being made expert with the Browning Automatic Rifle, his guard duty, and many of his other duties. I wish I had talked with him more about those years. His cousin, Carl, went in with him and didn't make it home.

My Old-Life Crisis

A week ago Wednesday, on our way to eat Mexican food, we started reminiscing about the great time we had at Yosemite when we rented a convertible. "It wouldn't be a bad thing if we just bought one and kept it for a while and we could vacation in it", said my hubby. Wow, that took me by surprise. I had not even thought of that. Wasn't even a blip on my radar screen.

The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea. Thursday through Saturday we looked at several around town, but nothing really hit my eye or our price range. We were both thinking of maybe a Mustang or Sebring, maybe a Saab. We never ever thought about a Jag because it just simply wasn't in our budget.

Saturday night we went to dinner with friends and on the way home, we saw this beauty setting on the side of the rode with a for sale sign. Hubby looked at me in the rear view and asked if I wanted to go back and take a look. Of course, we turned around and all four of us oohed and awed over this car. 36K miles on it and it looked show room clean. The asking price was a little up there, but nothing we couldn't afford. As I told a salesman earlier in the day, if it is exactly what I want, then I might be willing to pay more, but if not, the price will have to be such that what I want will be overridden by the value of a car. This was exactly the color combination I had told every salesman we encountered. It was and is too much car for this lady, but it is also something I am very proud of. It was a two owner car. The first owner was Mrs. Bob Moore, one of OKCs most prominent dealerships. She was an elderly woman so the car got kid glove treatment as you can well imagine. The second owner was a fastidious man who sold this after getting his new ride, a Dodge Viper, and getting his wife a new Lexus convertible. He had all the receipts and had it maintained and serviced regularly. In fact, once he decided to sell, he took the car in for inspection to make sure every detail was up to par. Our mouths dropped open when we asked his bottom dollar. It was almost too good to be true. There were so many factors that made us buy the car and of course, dropping the price was right up there along with the fact the hubby and the seller talked cars like they were old buddies.

I had trouble the first two day accepting the fact that 1) I deserved such a car, and 2) that we needed a car at all. This was after we bought it so you can imagine the turmoil I was in. Finally, last evening we took it out for an evening drive and today we drove to Prague and back. I can honestly say this is the best driving vehicle we have ever owned. Turning the corners reminds me of stirring pudding, smooth as silk. So, for now, we have decided to keep it a while. This may be my old-life crisis. My hubby thinks I deserve it for putting up with all his hobbies. hmmmmmmmm Maybe I do deserve a 2002 Jaguar XK8........nah, I doubt it.

End of School Award Ceremony

Bright and early this morning, 9:15, we attended Blaine's 1st Grade Award Ceremony. He got an award for reading 25 books. He was one book shy of reading 50. He is an excellent reader and interested in subjects that you normally don't associate with a 6 year old. Right now he is into geography, specifically Russia and China. He has maps on his wall and his other grandma bought him a globe. Whenever he hears of a place on the news he looks it up.

Memories: I wasn't a very good student, but I tried so hard to please everyone especially the teacher. We didn't have a kindergarten program when I was going to school so I started 1st grade when I was 5 years old and I was a shy little girl. Being shy was no attribute; you can get lost in the shuffle. That was tongue in cheek because you really can't get lost in a shuffle of 20-30 kids in 8 grades.

When I was in the 5th grade, the year the 5th graders transitioned into the "big" room, I was a nervous nelly. It made me literally sick to go to school. I was so unhappy. I remember a particular time, our teacher gave us each a little topic about 2 paragraphs long. We were to tell in our own words what the topic was about. To this day I remember it was geography. I recited word for word from the book rather than telling about it in my own words. I also remember the teacher talking to my mom about this very thing. Since I was scared to death to go to school and having a difficult time, my mom took me to our pediatrician to see if he could help. After I married, I found out that the doctor prescribed a mild tranquilizer. I remember only taking them a short time. They must have worked because I got much better.

Our little school, Garden Grove, had an evening awards ceremony and 8th grade graduation at the end of every year. I remember our teacher gave us a stern warning we had to set up straight in our chairs for the ceremony. She would call our names and we walked up the steps of the stage to get our awards. Now these awards weren't just a piece of paper, they were beautiful!!! They were velvet in all the primary colors with a ribbon on the inside of the folder along with the certificate of your award. That year I got a huge surprise. See, I was in a class of 4. My extremely smart cousin and another cute little boy made straight As and I couldn't compete with them. The teacher gave those two their awards, of course, and then surprise, she called my name as the student who tried the hardest of all the students all year long. I was getting special recognition. Oh, that was great! Now remember we had to set up straight - BUT I was terribly sick and not from nerves this time. I had a stomach flu. I was having a hard time setting up, but I knew I had to because.........I didn't know what that teacher might do to me. I was so sick that as soon as the ceremony was over, I went straight to the car and laid down. My parents took forever to come to the car. This was a community event and since everyone knew one another, they would visit forEVer! I couldn't bask in the recognition this special teacher gave me. But to this day, I still remember and she remains my favorite teacher.

Rain Water

Last night we got a much needed rain. One gauge said 6.94 inches while another read 9.1. There is a discrepancy somewhere, but nonetheless, we got a lot of rain. As we walked around our property today, the yard was full of clear, and some not so clear, rain puddles, it brought back sweet memories of my Grandma Dawkins.

My grandmother used to wash her hair with rain water she collected in the large galvanized tub at the corner of her back porch. That tub sat in that same spot for the 23 years she was part of my life which was the day she died. If the water wasn't fresh she would have to skim off debris. She always thought rain water made her hair softer. For some reason I remember washing my hair at her house quite a bit. Looking back I don't really understand why I would be at her house washing my hair, but I was. She had many ways of teaching me things and probably she was demonstrating how soft my hair would be and then it just became a ritual, besides she only lived 1/2 mile from us. She would pour a little warm water over my head as I leaned over a small white enamel basin with red trim. With a tiny bit of shampoo (green Prell - remember the pearl?) she would wash my head till we had plenty of suds. Enough suds to form pointy sculptures. I can almost feel her arthritic fingers massaging my head. (This was not a rushed shampoo and now I realize the word would be therapeutic). I'd squeeze my eyes tightly as she'd pour more warm water over my hair to rinse out all those suds. This was followed by a vinegar rinse which Grandma thought was needed to strip out shampoo buildup and to make our hair squeaky clean. I don't know if that is a fact or not, but we did it. I do remember my hair having a squeak when it was wet so I believe her to this day. Another Grandma'ism was to use cold water on the last rinse. It was supposed to make the hair shiny. Believe that? I still try using cold water on my hair right before stepping out of the shower - it will wake you up!

When I was a little older, the tables turned and I started washing her silver hair. Her hair was much coarser than mine or my own mom's. She wore her hair short in the back, but long enough on the sides and top to put in a few rollers to give her some body. Her hair would be completely dry in just a few minutes and then she would let me style it - combed back on top with a couple of curls on each side of her temples - such pretty hair. I remember her hair line and how it was much closer to her eyes and eyebrows than mine. I had almost forgotten that feature until I saw my niece with the same hairline. Funny, huh, two generations later?

Something else Grandma taught me was to brush my hair 100 strokes every night before I went to bed. I did this as a child, but now this is a big no-no as it causes hair to be oily. Sorry Grandma.

My grandmother was one of the prettiest women I have ever seen, but her sweet nature was what endeared me to her. She is very well thought of by her grandchildren and I hate it that my kids never knew her. Someday I will tell you more Grandma Dawkins stories.

Nurse Nightingale

Third day after sinus surgery and my husband is finally feeling a little better. Now that he is better, I can tell you that he has not been my ideal patient. I expected him to lay back and wait for me to bring his medicines on a regimented schedule. I was going to fix his meals on a tray, fluff his pillows, wipe his fevered brow so that I could be the sweet, cute little Florence Nightingale. I wanted to be the martyr; to answer the phone with an anxious, breathless voice when someone called. People must feel sorry for me because I am making all these sacrifices for my man. That did not happen. He didn't really want me to bother him. He slept in the recliner. He couldn't swallow so he would not take medicine on my demand. He had no appetite so I didn't get to fix him warm soup. He did not want pillows so no fluffing and he didn't want me to wipe his brow. He didn't even want the remote control. Oh woe is me! The martyr news is that I slept on the couch so that if he needed me I could hear him.

Oh yea, he is feeling better. I can now fix the meals he wants and he is thrilled when I put the tray in front of him. He is now responsible for his own medication regimen and he lets the dog in and out. He is rocking a little in the recliner and is no longer moaning in pain. He is coming back!!! I will have to find another way to be a martyr. Remind me to tell you about my mother and her sisters staying all day (6:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.) with their 100 year old mother every day while she was in the nursing home. Now I feel guilty.................

Comfortable Shoes for Mother's Day

My hubby surprised me with the cutest, funniest little certificate for some comfortable shoes. As you can see in the picture, it is not to be used for cute, trendy shoes. Oh shoot!!! He knows how I love shoes, and very little thought is given to the fact that they will hurt after 10 minutes on my feet. You cannot wear them for 10 minutes in the store; they look at you funny and start following you around like you are going to stuff them in your purse and head for the door. As it turns out, I was going to look for new shoes this week anyway and the nice folding money will help. It also turns out that my 45th class reunion is this Saturday which means I have a dilemma. How can I show up at my reunion in grandma shoes? Now you know this is not going to happen if you have ever gone back to a class reunion and you are a girl (ok, I still think I am 17). Those that know me, know how vain I am. So........will I buy two pairs of shoes? Those that have shopped with me know that when I get in my zone, I may buy three pairs. Remember all the shopping trips, girls? Remember, sisters, when we four went to Dallas and came back with 27 boxes of shoes between us? Oklahoma doesn't sell shoes.

Such a wonderful, lazy day. I didn't fix lunch for the kids this year. I took the day off, but they came anyway and we had a wonderful time. I am posting some pictures of the family. Blaine, Logan, and me

It's my day so I even have one of me by myself.

The kids - they are not any more comfortable taking pictures than when they were 10 and 7. Literally had to pull them over to me for this shot.

Giggling kids. Steven and Angie brought me the pretties bouquet of flowers. Shawna, Ryan, and the boys got me a potato ricer which I have wanted for years.

My girls - Shawna and Angie. Pretty, sweet, loving girls. and skinny!

Never, ever have a picture of my son-in-law with his best mother-in-law. Got one today. Don't act like you don't like me, Ryan.

Steven and me. Yeah, he likes me, too. He has to.

And this little girl is the mother of the two best boys in the world. My adorable grandsons.

Cute pictures of the boys and their uncle.

Another good one of Steven.

One of the best mother's day I have ever had. Relaxing. After they left I read all afternoon. Since we knew it was going to be crazy at the restaurants today, hubby and I are going to breakfast tomorrow. Mother's Day just keeps on giving.

I kiss her powdery cheek.

I have been thinking of my mom all day today. Maybe it is because of Mother's Day coming up Sunday. It started last night when I read this passage from "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett": '"Alright, Mama." I kiss her powdery cheek.' Those two sentences tugged at my heart for that was my mom--powdery cheek. I used to give my mom facials at least once a week. I would start with Pond's cold cream to cleanse her soft face, arch her eye brows, put eye makeup on her eyes, and powder her face. She loved our ritual, but I think I enjoyed it more.

Then this morning as I was deadheading my roses, she popped into my mind again. I never remember my mom ever deadheading her roses probably because she never had the time. She was lucky to have 35 seconds alone in the bathroom without at least a couple of her 5 kids hollering "momma?" She had a red rose bush just like my pink ones, floribundas I believe they are called; as I recall hers was called American Beauty. On Mother's Day it was a tradition that we pinned a red rose on our dresses for church. We got to pick our own rose, a red bud; perfect! Even my brother and dad had a rose for their suits. In those days mom and dad's mothers were still alive and a red rose was appropriate. We were lucky because some people had to wear white which indicated that their mother was no longer living. In our small church they would give corsages to the youngest mother, to the oldest, to the mother with the most children at church, etc. Guess who always got the corsage for the most children? Yes, mom. We were so excited for her, every year. To us kids, it was almost as if she were famous for a few minutes. Our unassuming, shy mother was the celebrity of the moment, on stage, being pinned by our pastor. We were so proud of her.

I felt some jealousy this afternoon. We were at Lowe's garden center when I noticed so many women with their mothers looking at flowers and discussing what to plant. My heart ached a little.......I would love to have just a little more time....to go pick some rose buds....to pick a red one instead of a white one. I would kiss her powdery cheek.

Roast Gravy

The instructions for this gravy are for my favorite son. After you put your roast in the oven, start making the flour mixture for the gravy. The earlier you do this, the less lumps you will have because they will soften. Put about 1/2 cup all-purpose flour into a cup and start adding water slowly, all the while mixing with a fork. You will probably end up using about 1/2 cup of water. It should be the consistency of just a tad thinner than Elmer's glue. I never measure the flour or water; after 40 years of making this gravy, there is no need to measure. Set this mixture aside while the roast is cooking, but stir it around now and again to make sure there are no lump.

This picture is the roast juices after the roast has been removed. Now is the time to start cooking the gravy. I usually pour the juices into the skillet I seared the roast in, but you have to make sure there are no burned bits still in the skillet. I just take a paper towel and wipe the skillet out if it looks burned. Heat the juice to boiling.

Pour the flour mixture slowly (important) into the boiling juices and . A whisk makes this process much easier. You have to stir fast or the flour mixture will start to cook and make lumps. Continue to add the flour mixture and stir until it thickens to the consistency that you want. How fast the gravy thickens will in part depend on how thick your flour mixture is. If it thickens more than you want, just add a little water. Boil it for a couple of minutes and it will be ready to serve. Add salt if needed.

Regina's Oven Pot Roast

Yesterday, Sunday, it was cold and rainy. I couldn't think of anything more comforting that the smell of a pot roast cooking in the oven while I took my Sunday afternoon nap. My kids have asked me how I make this so this post is for them.

As you can see, this is a bone-in roast. I normally wouldn't buy one with a bone, but beggars can't be choosers. Also, you see all the fat? While the fat and bone really make a more flavorful roast, there is a lot of waste and unnecessary calories. But who is counting?

Take it cellophane off and leave the roast on the tray. Generously sprinkle pepper, onion salt, and flour. No need to use additional table salt since using onion salt.

Turn the meat over and repeat the seasoning. Here is a close up of how generous I was with seasoning.

Shawna this picture is for you. Spread that flour all over the meat with your hands. If you prefer you could put a cup of flour in a paper bag, drop your roast in, and shake it.

Heat about 2 tablespoons of canola or vegetable oil in a skillet (I always use cast iron for this.) Heat it until the oil starts to dance as in the picture. This is pretty hot and that is what you want, but you must watch it closely because it will start to smoke and burn. You do not want to use burned oil

Put the roast in the hot skillet and sear to dark golden brown, but be careful because you could easily burn yourself if the oil bubbles up.

Turn the roast over after it has seared to dark brown. Actually, the browner the better for the gravy. You should stay with the range while doing this because it can burn quickly. You may need to turn on the vent. This process is very messy and will spatter grease all over your range. Do NOT burn, just darkly sear.

Add about one cup water to the bottom of your cooking pot. Add the roast with the darkest side down. The roast has only seared so you will need to cook this in the oven at about 350 degrees; however, you can lower your temperature if you think it is cooking too quickly.

NOTE: I used my Pampered Chef stoneware. You could use the pot of your choice, but I like way stone bakes. Also, the darker the stain on the stoneware, the better.

Here is the cooked roast with all the delicious dark juice after about 3 1/2 hours. It was ready earlier, but I wasn't. I turned the oven down to 275 to cook the last hour.

Notice how the roast just falls apart. The bone just pulled right out.

This is Johnny's first plate. He loves my roast and cannot resist seconds. I will tell how to make the gravy in another post.






Look at my plate....love this pot roast, but cannot allow myself very much.

First Monday - Canton, TX

We had a great trip to Canton on Thursday. First Mondays is a huge, monthly flea market with all sorts of antique vendors, junk dealers, food vendors, and many pavilions full of boutiques. It is an entertaining place for us where we can relive the past, but at the same time we can find things for our future. This is a great weekend getaway for folks from Oklahoma City.

There are lots of vendors that sell Mexican iron things such as my flying pig. I found him adorable. About 5 years ago this would not have been my taste at all - junk. Then a couple of years ago we made a trip to Arroyo Seco, NM, to my favorite jewelry designer while we were vacationing at Red River, NM. The jeweler has a shop in the tiny artist village. At one of the few shops they were selling these flying pigs. The shop owner told us that Julia Roberts has a home nearby and she has one of these pigs flying above her ranch gates. Then I had to rethink this junky, oddly painted, badly welded piece of tin. Well, I saw them again Friday and this guy just spoke to me. "Take me home and put me someplace and remember when you bought me and how much fun you were having." Here he is on my counter in my kitchen, but I expect he will be moved outside soon. It was raining today and goodness knows, we would not want this masterpiece to rust.

There is a vendor there that grinds corn with his hit or miss gasoline engine. It makes the most obnoxious sound, but my husband has to check it out every time. Something about odd engines that intrigues him. This time I bought some cornmeal, thinking ahead for okra season. Now I remember that I didn't plant any. I made cornbread with it today so it will not go to waste, but it did go to waist.

These are some of the plants I brought home. There are dozens of plant vendors with the greatest prices. The blue and white petunias were $5 per basket. The gardenia was loaded with buds and was $12. The others were $7 and $10. Take this list of flowers to Lowe's and see what you would pay. All of them are so healthy and are pretty en masse which draws you right to them.

On this trip we didn't find any antiques that we wanted to bring home. Hubby found a unique Jackson rubber band powered BB gun and a couple of pellet gun parts. Other than that, we just took our time and scoured over all the glassware, vintage jewelry, linens, furniture, etc.

We made fast walk throughs in the dozens of pavilions. These buildings mostly house new decorative items; lots of clothes but not necessarily my taste; lots of pet supplies and dog dresses; many, many vendors of bagged soup and dip mixes; and tons of little girls clothes and hair bows. A woman could spend hours in these buildings without ever going to the antique vendors.

So if you haven't been to Canton, you are missing something special. It starts on the Thursday before the first Monday of each month and runs through Sunday. The lodging around there isn't much, but we have found a few places that fit our price range at Terrell or Mesquite. Go, have a good time, but check weatherchannel.com for the weather forecast because it can be very hot and humid in East Texas. Eat a funnel cake!