To Cursive or Not to Cursive

Will handwriting play any part in our grandchildren's lives?  There is a push to eliminate cursive from our schools' curriculum.  How sad.  How will they sign for anything, but then again, will there be a need?  We can already move money from account to account electronically so just think what the next 20 years will bring?

I have saved a special box of letters and cards from my friends and family for years because I thought the content might someday give my children and grandchildren a sense of what their grandmother and other relatives were like.  It has only been in the last year that I have come to appreciate their handwriting.  I can open my special box, see a certain handwriting and immediately memories abound.  I can look at a recipe card and know whose recipe it is.  Just this week I received a letter from my cousin and the first thing I noticed was her handwriting for it was just the same as it was in 1958.   

I am not here to tell you that I expect the handwriting of my mom to mean anything to my grandchildren, for they never knew her.  My son and daughter, however, hold those memories..........the memories of the cards that their grandmothers sent them..........the cards with a $5 bill, the cards filled with Valentine candy, all signed I love you.  Grandma....their grandma's handwriting.  Now I think about what my own grandchildren will remember.  Since they live close, I fail to send them cards for I will see them on those special occasions.  Will they remember my handwriting?  Will their grandchildren remember theirs?  That certainly is in doubt in this day of texting and emailing - very impersonal.          


There may be a push to eliminate cursive, but that doesn't deter my grandson from learning.  Today he spent an hour practicing the curve of every letter.  He will have a heads up when he enters third grade whether they teach cursive writing or not.               

That is enough of my ranting for one night.  Thanks for indulging me, but the next time you think about sending someone an e-card, think also about sending them a card through the post.  It really means a lot to the receiver that you would take the time and effort to find a card  just for them (and I guarantee it will definitely surprise them)....who knows they may save it for a long, long time.

I love you.

Head for the House!

I want to go to Red River.  Sam's Club is my in town happy place and Red River is my out of town happy place.  There are just too many things drawing my attention to Red River so it must be about time for a vacation. 

Thing 1.  We went to the Paseo Arts Festival this weekend.  Some of the shops in the Paseo district remind me a lot of the shops in Taos which is about 35 miles SE of Red River and always a day trip while in Red River.  I want to go there!  I don't know if any of you know this, but I have a secret desire to dress as they do in Red River and Taos.  I want to wear long, bright peasant skirts, white shirt tied at the waist, and sandals.  I want to let my hair grow long and let the color go grey and all flyaway.  Well, not so much on that last part, but I would like to wear clunky turquoise jewelry and look all artsy.  I was never a hippie so maybe I missed something.  I might even buy me a long skirt this season.

Thing 2.  The air was cool this morning so much like the air in Red River; however, in Red River the air is cool like that all day.  The mornings are almost cold, but a walk down to the nearest bakery for Kolaches (and yes, there is a shop that specializes in Kolaches) and a cup of coffee will invigorate you.  You might not be able to breathe, but you will be invigorated!   If you have never been to Red River in the summer, you are missing a great vacation site.  When the temperature in Oklahoma is 108, it is 75 in Red River in the "heat" of the day.  At night, you may or may not hear a bear rumaging around the locked garbage bins.  You most definitely (OK might) see deer grazing around town and if you keep your eyes open on the trip up from Oklahoma, you will see antelope.  It will take you a long ten hours to get there, but well worth the trip for sure.

Thing 3.  I have text (is that text or texted - wonder if they teach proper techie talk in school these days) or called my sister this weekend a couple of times.  A couple of years ago, she and her family went with us to Red River and we had one of the best vacations ever!  We rented a van with three seats and off the 5 of us went to Red River....and least I forget the two dogs....Boomer wrapped around J's neck and Stormy in his lap for ten hours.  What a trip and one I will never forget!  It thrilled me that they seemed to be as enamored with Red River and I am.

Thing 4 and this is the best one.  This morning while I was hoeing my garden -- don't get all excited -- I have 5 watermelon plants, 8 tomatoes, 5 rows of okra, 4 jalapeno plants, 2 squash plants, 3 cucumber plants, and some dill which had a caterpillar on it this morning already! (he's dead now - sorry all you environmentalist)............anyway, back to my story, while I was hoeing it reminded me of those times when we were hoeing peanuts and daddy would pick up his hoe in the middle of the row and tell us to head for the house.  Just like that, we were going to Tenkiller.   

Don't you think this all adds up to a trip to Red River?  Sure seems like it to me.  Now I have to convince the hubby.  There is an old car show there this weekend.  Reckon (an Oklahoma word) that will be enough enticement?

I love you.  Anybody want to go to Red River?  Head for the house!  Just like that, we....................... to be continued......................  Love you guys. 

Simple Things

Joy "you may just find it in the rhythm of chopping vegetables, the sizzle of the iron, or the warming rays of the summer sun".  I wish I could take credit for these words, but I cannot.  They were written by the editor of "SOUTHERN LADY" magazine, Andrea Fanning, May/June 2012 edition.  When I read these words this afternoon, I knew they would be my blog post for the night.  Simple words, huh?  Chopping vegetables?  Sizzle of the iron?  Warming rays of summer sun?  Simple things, but do you think they bring you joy?

A few weeks back I wanted to write about the happiness I felt while I cleaned out my kitchen cabinets that morning.  It seemed kind of silly at the time ~ writing about cleaning out my cabinets, but after reading the editor's words I realized I wasn't the only person who gets such joy from simple things.  It was dark and raining outside on my "happy" morning.  With the aroma of my morning coffee still lingering in the air, I was in my zone and in my coffee buzz.  A perfect morning as far as I am concerned; a morning for which I longed while I was working; a perfect retirement morning.  I felt joy!
Everything seemed so right with the world even though many worries were trying to crowd my mind.
If you have read my posts, you know that I love to iron.  I love the immediate gratification of seeing those wrinkles vanish right before my eyes.  It brings me joy.  Mowing the lawn (on the ZTR, of course) gives me lots of time to think, to remember, to dream, to plan.  It brings me joy.  Washing dishes, a chore I detested when I was a child, is now a chore that brings me joy and also time to think.

What brings you joy?  I hope that you have some simple things that just make you happy.  It is not all about the prettiest clothes, the great hairdo, the beautiful new car, or the biggest house.  Maybe it is the morning sun beaming down on your head, or maybe like the editor said, "the rhythm of chopping vegetables".  These simple things may bring back memories, or perhaps you are making new memories, but try to find the joy in them.  Look for it.

I love you.  Wishing you Simple Things.  Got any ironing for me to do?  

 

Loves at First Bite

Not that I call myself a writer, but sometimes I have writer's block.  Nothing seems to come to mind, but for some reason, I have been craving Caprese Salad today............so why not write a blog about it and a few other Loves at First Bite. 

Do you have foods that you remember the very first bite you ever took?  I have so many, but will only share three with you, otherwise this post will be longer than you want to read. 

I remember the very first time I took a bite of lobster and I fell in love!  My date and I were at the NCO club at Tinker AFB, back when they actually had a NCO club.  Once he realized I had never had lobster, he insisted I take a bite of his.  Oh my gosh, my taste buds were in gourmet heaven.  I had never tasted anything so delicious in my 21 year old life.  Dipped that bite in drawn butter........heavenly.

I also remember my children's first bite of lobster....on vacation in Maine....the real lobster.....not the fake crab legs which we had been passed off as lobster to them.  We had that "oh, what have we done" moment.

Medium rare steak - It took a long time before I ventured on the rare side.  We had a restaurant in Del City called The Sirloin Stockade back in the day.....long before I met my hubby.  The girls in my office were lunch regulars, Jackie always ordering hers rare and I always ordered my well done.  One day, Jackie insisted that I would like her steak better than my own.  She had me close my eyes and fed me two bites, one of hers and one of mine.  As much as I hated to admit it, I like hers more than mine.  Nobody told me.......

One of my very favorite foods for the last 17 years is Caprese Salad.  Back in 1995, I had my very first taste of this summer delight.  I was at the Union Station restaurant in Ogden, UT, with at least 12 other TDYers.  The Union Station didn't call it Caprese Salad; just fresh mozzarella and tomato salad.  Not feeling up to par I ordered this "light" meal, not having a clue to what I was ordering, but it sounded like something that wouldn't upset my tummy.  I was sure I was going to get shreds of cheese and tomatoes on a bed of greens, but lo and behold, they delivered me a beautiful arrangement of fresh mozzarella made on the premises (which I had never even seen before let alone eaten) and tomatoes.  Who knew this simple salad would be so delicious. 

I have been craving Caprese Salad right now and have been all day long.  My basil is to lush and beautiful, but my tomatoes are a couple of months away.  Can I wait till the tomatoes are ripe or do I head to Sam's tomorrow for tomatoes and fresh mozzarella?  I feel the draw to my favorite store!

Those are just a few of my Loves at First Bite.

I love you ~ Caprese Salad!!    
Thanks for reading.


  


 

Our Connection

This weekend we went to hubby's class reunion.  Not a formal reunion, but a party for his classmates which is held each year.  One of his classmates has a beautiful place on Petit Jean Mountain near the state park and for several years has graciously invited his classmates.  This was our first year to attend.  I cannot describe how beautiful his place is, but imagine looking out over the Arkansas River Valley atop a mountain bluff.  On this property there is nothing to mow for all the area is landscaped naturally using the local stones to mark pathways and individual natural flower beds with all kinds of flora and fauna amongst the huge pines and the gorgeous deciduous trees.  The oakwood hydrangeas were in full bloom scattered throughout the forest and the raised garden beds were overflowing with squash, okra, and 6 foot tomato vines spilling through their wire cages.  Every place I looked was a photo op.  His wife is a Master Gardner and travels the USA for conventions and expositions so her talent is well displayed.  It is quite evident that their days begin at sunrise and they are only driven inside by darkness.  The long curved driveway through the forest was lined with dry stacked stones for a 2 foot tall wall that looked professional.  She laid each stone by herself over an 8 year period obviously using a level for each stone fit perfectly.  Their house is just as beautiful with a deck running across the back of the house ending at the screened sleeping porch which looked like something from Southern Living as did the rest of the house, but something about that sleeping porch, allowing a breeze from three sides with views beyond imagination, intrigues me.  I would love to rent out just that room for the night.  It was so beautiful and romantic and everything I had ever dreamed. 

The memories the people (it is really hard not to call them kids for that is how they remember themselves), poignant, some funny, and some a little sad, were shared in this beautiful quiet, serene place with a bird chirping now and again high above our heads.  These kids shared memories of key less doors, of supper smells of the neighborhoods, of bicycle rides across town, of old Mrs. So and So who lived on the corner, of dragging their cars on the flats of the valley floor on a Saturday night, of meeting at the local drive-in, batting and battling June bugs from their hamburgers and sodas under the yellow lights of the drive-in.  As they were describing some of their escapades, I could only think of the movie "American Graffiti".  What a wonderful time.  Conway - what a wonderful time and 1960 must have been a wonderful year.  Someone mentioned they felt sorry for people who did not grow up and go to school in Conway in 1960, and after their tales, I agree.    

It is true that after a period of time, everything equals out.  The kids once considered pretty or even beautiful are now just ordinary.  The kids considered ugly are now pretty and handsome in their maturity.  The ones who were so popular in high school may have been hit by a hard dose of reality and realize now that the world does not revolve around them and the fact that they are/were a cheerleader.  The football players, the jocks, may now be suffering from all kinds of knee injuries, back trouble, shoulder or hip replacements. The shy, backwards people may have gone on to achieve something special in their lives which has brought them out of their shells.  In fact, they, many years later, may be the one actually carry the conversation.   Everything equals out now.
                         
Yes, we had a beautiful setting for this reunion, but what was really truly beautiful was the gathering and sharing with old friends, friends from long ago.  It was a connection to the past, a bridge to a time in their lives when everything was right....a gentler time as child........of sweet memories, and for some it may be their only connection as their own families have all now passed on.  There is an old song that goes something like this.  "Make new friends, but keep the old.  One is silver and the other gold."  We will renew and keep these golden friends - they are our connection.

I love you.

     

Here's to Nice Guys

We are home!  After another weekend in gorgeous Arkansas, we are home.  As pretty as that state is, there is no place like home and for us it is on Blackjack Ridge Road. 

We haven't been camping in a long, long time and tent camping -- even longer.  Even so, each year, the Sunday before Memorial Day weekend (today!), I start scouring the ads, specifically targeting those stores' ads that might have tents, camping gear, water sports, etc.  I start daydreaming about a Tenkiller trip and summer fun ahead. 

How fun would it be to have a huge floating barge.  Have you seen it at Sam's?  How cool would it be to have all five girls and my adorable niece on that thing at once?  There are cup holders for all five seats, plus cup holders for the double mattress.  And even a cooler for our drinks.  And get this, an awning to prevent all us lily white beauties from sunburning...all except for one and her daughter who will be brown from their pool at home.  I don't much like them.

And here is how the story goes:  The barge will be hauled in the back of somebody's truck, taking up half the bed.  Imagine an air compressor taking up the other half of the bed.  Imagine a brother-in-law nice enough to do all that for us.  Yes, there are five guys for these five bathing beauties, but only one will be nice enough to lug this all to the lake for us.  Yep, you know who you are.  From this point on you will be called 'Mr. Nice Guy' to remain anonymous and to not offend the rest of the 'Not As Nice Guys' who are really nice until it comes blowing up a barge in 100 degree weather.

Yea, we are at the lake and it is hot!  Mr. Nice Guy's wife declares it is a great time for a swim.  We have just gotten up from our naps and the temperature has dropped from 103 to 100 degrees.  "Mr. Nice Guy?" Mr. Nice Guy's wife asks.  "Is that raft aired up?"

"Well no, I didn't know when you would need it", he replies sweetly, but just a little put out as he wasn't able to take a nap because he was making sure his sister's-in-law had firewood for a campfire tonight.  Sweet as Mr. Nice Guy is, he trudges off to get his air compressor out.  By this time, the other 'Not As Nice Guys' find their way over to offer advice.  One of them will undoubtedly cut the barge box open while the others offer unwanted advice.  OK, now it is out and getting dusty as the 'not as nice guys' are pulling and tugging and trying to make some sense of how the thing should be layed out and where the air valves are.  Yes, valves with an 's'.  This thing is huge.  You need several individual pockets for air.  You wouldn't want that baby to blow completely up and leave the bathing beauties floundering in the lake, screaming for Mr Nice Guy and his friends, Not As Nice Guys.  We might make a spectacle.........a deflating barge sinking fast, screaming that someone lost a shoe, and "oh my gosh, there is water in my Coke", "my sunglasses are at the bottom of the lake", "sunglasses, what about my glasses?"  Yes, you can imagine all the ruckus.

Now the barge is aired up and look at that thing.  We are laughing ourselves silly as it is taller than the camper and............that is when it hits us.  Now we have to get it to the water.  They guys are pretty hot and sweaty by now and are grateful the bathing beauties are headed to the lake with this barge and out of their hair for a couple hours.  But wait, the wind has kicked up!  And!!! man oh man, this thing is heavy and the wind is not making it any easier.  Barge takes flight!!!!!!  But beauties manage to hold on.  "Girls, we are going to have to have help.  We have another 300 feet to the lake.", I say.  Turning around, the guys are pretty much doubled over with their diabolical laughs.  We girls are not thinking of any of them being anywhere near 'nice guys' at this point, but we realize if we want their help we are going to have to let them laugh.  We don't even have to ask...........being the 'Nice Guys' they are and after the laughter has waned, they saunter down to us and offer to carry the raft on to the lake.  Yes, it takes a village to move a barge and a lot of nice guys.

Finally, we are in the water, all the bathing beauties.  We tether ourselves to the designated swimming ropes for a wonderful afternoon of visiting, where to shop tomorrow, wondering if there is a Chico's nearby, deciding what we are going to fix for supper, and whether that cloud forming in the southwest will bring rain before we get out of the water.  By this time, the few brave 'Nice Guys' (you will notice my referral to 'Nice Guys' now as they deserve the new title after carrying the barge) have joined us on the raft, oh I forgot, BARGE.  They all agree that this is pretty nice.  No tethering one float to another like we did last year.  Yeah, pretty nice..............until we realize that we need to get this thing back to shore.  How in the world do we do that?  We are 400 feet from shore, no paddle.  Up the creek without a paddle!  Floating beauties are beginning to get sunburned.  Up the creek without a paddle!  Oh wait, we have the brave 'Nice Guys' on board.  But they haven't got a clue either until one says, "The only way we are going to make this thing move is if we all get off and push it back to shore."  "Are you serious?  We got this thing out here by floating on it.  The wind took us to the rope and now you say we are going to have to push it?"  As you can probably tell, this is a husband and wife conversation and you can probably tell whose.  "Well, yeah.  The wind has come up and if you float back to shore, you are going to float to the middle of the lake.  See????"

Resolution sets in.  We all jump off making sure all our belongings are secured and riding along on the barge.  Here we all are, all nine of us, pushing this huge white barge to shore.  Mr. Nice Guy and his com padre join us 30 minutes later at the shore line to help carry the thing to shore or maybe we could tie it up in the water somehow.  Nobody would steal it.  Or we could take it back to camp and lean it up but if that thing got loose in the night, there is no telling where it would be by morning.  The Goodyear Barge sailing over the Arkansas hills, heading for the Mississippi River.  Yep, let's just tie it up on the water.

Here's to Nice Guys.  I love you.

My Lottery Fantasy

I had the pleasure of keeping this little guy today.  He had so much to tell me..............and to ask me.  Like this one.  "Nana, do peoples get to live in their grandma's houses after they dead?"  Now that will start a nana thinking.  "No", I say.  "You don't have to.  Would you like to live in my house?"  "Yeah", he says.  "I like it here."  It was a perfect moment.  He was helping me make the bed, the warm sun was coming through the blinds, and the room looked so pretty when we finished pulling up the white bedspread and tucking it under the pillows.  No wonder he wanted to live here.

I told the hubby about this little conversation and I laughed when he told me we would have to watch L. because he might just ease us on out a little early as he is not a patient boy.

I sometimes wish we still had mom's house, maybe not to live, but to visit...to have a place where my family could gather and reminisce.  The house was beginning to deteriorate before the fire so I know that by now it would be a financial nightmare to keep up.  Just last week I was thinking, "What if....."  So without further ado I give you my Lottery Fantasy. 

I would buy the entire Dawkins' farm just to keep it in the family, and I would pay four times the valued appraisal (got to be nice to my family).  I would build a huge house with a huge, huge living room, a room large enough to accommodate 40 people without tripping over each other, overstuffed couches and huge chairs.  The kitchen would have 5 large islands with sinks, ranges and ovens on each, open all around each.  Of course, we would have to have a couple of oversized refrigerators/freezers filled to the brim with all kinds of food available for cooking.  We will need a huge playroom for the little ones, and a play room for the big kids with a huge TV so that the guys can watch football and golf.  We will need 5 large master bedrooms down stairs, one for each of my siblings.  Upstairs we will need a couple of huge dormitories, one for all the girls and one for the boys, large enough for a bed for everyone.  Huge bathrooms will be needed, of course.  And you know what, since this is my dream, we are going to have someone take care of the place for us, keeping it mowed, making sure the place is nicely kept, and we will need to have someone clean up after we leave, changing sheets, etc.  Any of you can use it, anytime you want.  And oh, I almost forgot!  Swimming pool........and a pool boy. Yep, that is what I would do with the lottery winnings.  That is my lottery fantasy....a place where my family can gather....a place on the old homestead. 

A little side note.  My little guy doesn't allow much hugging and kissing on him.  In fact, I never get a kiss, but occasionally I get a hug.  Today, I asked for a hug while he was on the chair stirring the popsicle mix.  He turned to me and hugged me.  I told him that I really liked his hug and him.  Quietly, in his little tinny voice, almost like he didn't really want me to hear him, he said "Well, you are a pretty good grandma."  I acted like I didn't hear that, but my heart just melted.

I love you. And don't forget that I will make sure you each have a new car, cash, and college educations for your kids. 

Mother's Day 2012

Steven Mother's Day 2012

Steven, Me, Shawna

Blaine, Me, Logan

This picture was taken just after they knocked me over.  They had a great time trying to get me back up.

I was blessed by having my children with me on this May day. 

I love you.

When I Need to be Entertained

When I need to be entertained, I jump in the car and run to Target - just to look around.  I don't have to need anything, I just want to entertain myself.  If I want to contact someone, I use either my cell phone, the hubby's cell, or the home phone.  If I need to email someone, I have four devices for that including those where I don't even need WI-FI - it comes magically comes from the sky.  If I need to find out the staff of UCLA Medical Center, I look it up on Internet.  If I need a recipe for gazpacho, I just google it.  I have TVs with hundreds of stations, and music from every genre using free apps.  There is just no end to entertainment these days without leaving the house. 

Then I remember mom.  How did she do it?  She had her first child at 30, me, and her last at age 38, with 3 others in between those two - not exactly young.  Dad took our only car to work so we were left at home without one.  For the first 14 years, we didn't have a phone.  No Internet, of course, but we didn't even have a car at home!  No phone!  Five kids under age 8!  What did she do for entertainment?  Was she bored? 

Did she even have time to be bored?  Did she spend her days changing wet diapers?  Did she spend time washing them out - remember they were cloth in the day?  Did she hang clothes on the line?  Did she iron?  Did she referee fights between us kids?  Did she make a garden?  Did she pick green beans?  Did she can them?  Did she have supper on the table for daddy?  Did she do all the dishes herself until we got old enough to help?  Did she worry about us kids when we were sick.......and she had no phone to call the doctor.......and the car was with daddy........and the nearest neighbor was at least 1/4 mile away.........and her sister was a mile away?  I can tell you the answer to all of these questions.  YES, but the answer to the first question is NO; Mom didn't have one moment to be bored.  And even if she had the car at home, she certainly didn't have time to run to Target just to look around!

Next time you feel the urge to go to Target........just to look around........remember Mom.  

True story:  We had an old-timey washing machine on the back porch.  Mom heated water for it in a huge galvanized tub which took up all four burners.  As she was taking this tub of hot water to the back porch, one of the kids darted in front of her right at the screen door.  She knew that she was going to spill this water and rather than pour it her child, she poured on herself.  Fortunately, it was a day when we had the car.  Mom gathered all us up and headed to Aunt Azalee's, about a mile away.  I remember mom driving with her dress up over her legs.  She must have been in horrible pain.  Aunt Azalee was home (remember no phone at our house) so she was able to drive Mom to the hospital where she stayed for a few days.  I distinctly remember them dropping us off at Grandma Dawkins' and watching them drive off and wondering if she was going to be alright.  When I think of how great a mom's love is, I think of that moment.  

I love you.      

             

It's Been 15 Minutes, Turn Over

It was HOT last week.  Did you notice?  I was on the ZTR and even speeding along on that thing, I couldn't gin up a wind chill.  A ride on the ZTR today, however, did stir up the wind chill index.  Loving this weather.

All this talk of heat reminds me of my teen age years.  And yes, I can remember them!  Think early to mid-60s.  Think The Platters, the Beatles, Gene Pitney (oh my, he was my man in those days - Town Without Pity, Down in the Boondocks - I was in love with Gene), Leslie Gore (It's my Party), and I could go on and on.  Those were the days.  Days of innocence.

Tans were big and the tanner the better.  A cute white pleated skirt, a pink sleeveless shirt and a tan - well that was what we thought was style and fashion.  Nobody thought a thing about getting a sunburn.  We worshipped the sun.  A little hot, but it was a small price to pay for such glamour and a hope of catching a boyfriend.   

Tanning was part of every teenager's summer even the boys.  Even with no swimming pool within 15 miles, I would spread my beach towel on the lawn and bring out my transistor radio, the baby oil - none of this SPF 50 for us - NO, sunglasses, a book or my latest issue of Teen or Seventeen, and a tall glass of ice water.  Every 15 minutes, the DJ would announce that it had been 15 minutes and I would obediently turn over and lather more baby oil.  Occasionally, I had a friend over and we could talk about boys or the lack of boys in our lives.  Poor us..............

I have been one of the lucky ones so far and haven't had any long term damage from baking in the sun, but my younger family members haven't been so lucky.  I am here to tell you, for their sakes, not to bake in the sun.  You will regret it later.

Which brings up the suntan lady that has made the news lately - that alone should be your first clue as to WHY you should NOT be baking in the sun or the suntanning beds.  But maybe I am jealous......

I love you.   

A Mother's Day Letter to my Daughter

This is a letter I wrote to my daughter in 2007, when Blaine was a toddler and Logan was a baby.  She never received it for I never sent it.  I didn't even remember it until the hubby found it on his computer and thought it might be nice to put on this blog.  The letter will speak for itself.  I hope you enjoy it, too, and maybe you can relate. 

The day after Mother’s Day, 2007.


Yesterday you called me to tell me that your Mother’s Day wasn’t going as you had hoped or expected. That started me thinking and remembering all of my past Mother’s Days and other holidays. They were all joyous, but they were always a busy and trying day for me. I would love to live just one of those days again with Grandma. I would do all the hard work and even more to have one last Mother’s Day with her and Grandma Tucker.

Until Grandma Tucker died we almost always went to her house on Mother's Day. We could not make both places so your dad and I compromised, Easter with the Dawkins’ and Mother’s Day with her. You kids had your cousins to hunt Easter eggs with so that seemed to be a logical way of spending the holidays. I felt it was important to be with her because we were her closest relatives and she like showing off her family. My mom had four other kids to be with her. Grandma Tucker didn’t have anybody after Shirley married Minor and moved to Texas. Grandma T. went to church every Sunday alone so having someone go with her was special to her.  She loved to show you kids off to her other family, her church family.

Now I will tell you about Mother’s Day from my perspective. My Mother's Day morning at her house usually usually went something like this. “Johnny, we aren’t even up yet, and she is cooking our breakfast. Oh yum.” “Kids, get up. Grandma has breakfast ready.” Thought—I wouldn’t have to wash these dishes if we could get her to let us get McDonald’s. Oh well, I give up. “Kids, get your teeth brushed.” “Johnny, did you bring Steven’s dress shoes? I can’t find them.” “Shawna, come in the bedroom. I have to take the rollers out of your hair.” “Kids, quit fighting or I am going to put you in a corner. Right now! Johnny, where are you?!!!!!!!” “Johnny, did you bring the camera?” “Shawna, no wonder it hurts. Stand still and it won’t. I have to get the comb through it. Let’s cut your hair when we get home. No way, we aren’t going to give you a perm. I can’t get the brush through it, now!” “Steven, get your belt on.” Thought--We could get ready a lot faster if Johnny would turn that TV off. “Kids, get your Bibles.” “Shawna, are you going to take that old purse? That dusty old thing Grandma got out of her closet? That is for play. Oh, go ahead. It’s OK.” Thought—We are going to be late if we leave now and Johnny wants to picks roses for our lapels? “Hurry, get in the car. Steven, put that stick down. Scoot over so Grandma can get in.”

Thought—Whew, I didn’t think we were going to make it on time and now we are here and Sunday School hasn’t even let out. Now I can breathe. I wonder what she wants to do about lunch. Probably Wendy’s. At least we didn’t have to cook anything. We are going to have to leave as soon as we get out of church. That is going to break her heart. It would be sad for me, too, if I were in her shoes. I always hate to see her lingering on the porch waving us off. At least we have her. I can’t believe she gets around as well as she does. I hope my mom does as well when she gets to be 85. I wonder what Mom is having for lunch. Wish I could be there.

After Grandma Tucker died in 1994, we started going to Grandma Dawkins. You kids were grown by then and could get ready on your own. Even still it was a rush because you kids took longer to get ready. I still had lots of food to prepare, etc. It was still a stressful time for me. Easter’s were even more hectic than any Mother’s Day.

Easter included making sure that you didn’t get your new Easter clothes dirty which meant we didn’t put them on you until just time to go out the door. Breakfast meant a toast popped into the toaster, if that. Usually, we were in such a rush to get to church on time, it is a wonder you kids were even in the car with us.

Remember all those years I took food, especially dumplings to Grandma’s? That took days of planning. I cut in the shortening for the dumplings the day before and left them on the counter top ready for the milk, mixing, rolling, and dropping into the boiling liquid Easter morning. No small feat. I cooked what I could on Saturday and refrigerated them until ready to heat. More than once, we got up to the school and had to turn around because I forgot something. The cooking part alone, was an all morning affair—let alone trying to get two little ones ready for church and making sure they had their Easter baskets. That brings up the subject of Saturday, the day before Easter, which was as busy as Easter.

Was your dad helpful, yes, but dads do not see what needs to be done as well as moms? Moms know that little girls need their new white purse and usually know where to find it—unless that little girl has hidden it from her brother. Moms know that boys need to have their shirt tails tucked in and that they need their belts on. Moms are bad about wanting pictures, though. Dads don’t see the importance. Moms have to let dads know what needs to be done. Sometimes it takes turning off the TV. Sometimes that is all we Moms need to make us calmer. When I was very stressed, turning off the TV made the difference me being a witch and me just being a mean mom. That was meant to be funny, but I think you understand what I mean.

You probably remember those times I described above, but can you or I even imagine what Grandma went through. Imagine her getting up at 4:30 on Sunday mornings just to put on the ham so she could take it out of the oven before church. Imagine her peeling all those potatoes so her grandkids could have the mashed potatoes they love. Imagine her making Amy a cherry pie because it was her favorite. Imagine her thinking about seeing all her kids and her grandkids. Imagine her worrying about her house and carpet after the kids broke their hardboiled eggs and stepped on them. Can you and I be such a mom? I hope I can.

Shawna, Mother’s Days are just a way of remembering our mothers. It is a day for showing appreciation, but believe me when I say, it is just another day for most mothers. In fact, I would even say it is one of the busiest days of the year for us. Yesterday, it was a little easier for me because we cooked outside, but it was hectic for me. I got to do all the things I love to do. I cooked and cleaned the house in the morning, cleaned the back patio, mowed the yard with the push mower, took a nap, and had my family over for dinner. It was an easier pace than those of years past, but still very stressful to make sure all the food was out and that everything was done on time.

Don’t rush it Shawna. Enjoy life, even those days that seem impossible. You will miss them someday. Don’t worry if Blaine doesn’t want to eat at my house. He is excited to be with his family. Don’t worry if Logan is crying with me. I can handle it. If not, I will give him back. Don’t worry about whether Blaine spills his drink. It will clean up. In the end, it just isn’t important.

I love you,
Mom

.....and I Still Get Homesick

The hubby and I walk around our place every morning.  I don't know what we think we will find different from the day before, but we walk around looking at all our plants and the few vegetables we planted this year.  We are just amazed this year for it seems that all this rain has really made everything liven up, so to speak.  Everything that is green is greener, flowers are even more beautiful, and grass is growing and growing and growing and growing. 

One day last week we found that there were deer tracks in my little garden, but before we got all up in arms about it, we noticed that nothing in the garden had been disturbed.  We think the deer must have hit the electric fence which scared him so much that he bounded over, then as quickly bounded back.  Probably scared the poor things to death!  Poor thing.  I will use that term as long as he doesn't take one bite out of my vegetables especially my tomatoes.  From my earlier post, you know how I feel about home grown tomatoes!

This morning the air was cool with a soft wind blowing, but the bright sun was already hot on my back.  The grass was still wet, and the butterflies were every!! where!!  Then it happened........sucked back into time.  I got that lump......you know the lump that you get when you are spending the night with grandma and you miss your mom.  Homesickness deluxe.  My childhood came back to me like I was in a time capsule, so much so that the calendar might have been 1960.....just outside my bedroom the sheets could have been on the spin cycle.....the towels could have been flapping and snapping in the wind right outside my bedroom window.....and the green beans could have been waiting to be picked, snapped, and canned.  I will have to write a post just on that someday.  

There are times that I just cannot believe I am in my 60s.  In my heart, I am still a 12 year old girl so shy she could hardly speak to anyone.  I still miss my momma.  I get the lumps in my throat and I still get homesick.      

I love you!  Come join us on our walk.