I recently found a picture of me and some of my students in my very first teaching job. It was in a nursery class of three year children . The setting was an experimental Nursery School on Rodd Field, at the Naval Air Base in Corpus Christi, Texas in the 1940's. I had gone there to stay with the family of my sister's brother-in-law who was a Lt.Commander in the Navy. World War II had ended and he was an instructor there. His wife was expecting another baby and was having difficulty caring for her three year old. I was ready for a break as a different sister was trying to push me into a job I was not anxious to take. When I was asked to go there for a time I agreed.
I went by train overnight. This was my second train ride. The first had been to Richmond, Ky. to college. I well remember it as an old flame was on the train and he bought my supper on the train. I think he was going to his college as well. For some reason I remember him telling me his criteria for a wife. Maybe I remember it as I thought it was odd. She had to wear hats !! I think he was trying to say that he wanted her to be well groomed.
This trip to Texas was instructional on many levels. While there I saw my first buttermilk skies, and witnessed an amazing electrical storm. The sky was filled with lightening strikes and out in that flat land you could see great distances all around. That is not the case when you live in the mountains as you are limited to the sky you can see between two mountains.
While there I was able to take a week-end trip to Monterrey, Mexico. I went by bus and God must have been looking out for me way back then as I met a lovely elderly couple from Michigan on the bus, who took me under their wings. He owned a Mortuary in Michigan and this was a holiday trip for them. They took me around Monterrey with them, escorted me everywhere. They even took me to a shop where I sampled wine and to a restaurant where I had bean soup. I had never had beans mashed into a soup before. Also we visited a leather shop and I purchased a black leather purse which I used for over 20 years !! I still have some silver jewelry which I purchased there, earrings and a bracelet. I also have some pictures of the town and I saw so much beautiful tile on the sidewalks and buildings. It was a great trip and I almost missed it. Elma and John said "you should go as you may never have the chance again". They were so right .
Elma helped me learn to cook and sew. I made a striped woolen suit while I was there and wore it for quite a few years. I saw it in some of the old pictures I found. Elma showed me new ways to make old dishes. When I came back to my home in Kentucky, my brother teased me about my cooking saying, "some day she will be frying lettuce". Well, he was right . I have used swiss chard in my stir fries and it is a lettuce.
John was very good to me. He taught me how to drive and was very encouraging. Being an instructor for young pilots he knew how to direct instruction so that no doubt accounts for me learning so quickly. This was before we had automatic transmissions so I was using a shift drive. He encouraged me by saying " I think you can do whatever you want to do in life". I have thought of that many times when I learn something new - like using a computer !!
In addition to having a job in the nursery school I enrolled in an Art class in the junior college there. I went to the USO in town and met a very nice young sailor from North Carolina. We were great friends and had a lot of fun together, he was like a brother who looked out for me. I had a few dates with some of the cadets there but I had the most fun with the sailor from Winston Salem, North Carolina.
The young children I worked with in that first school were having their first experience with school. They were well behaved and enjoyed our activities. One day one of the little girls ran up to me, grabbed me around the legs, looked up to me and said "I love you Miss Mattress". She was mispronouncing my name but I loved it and it is still an endearing moment to me.
One day when I had the children in a little group reading a story to them they were all entranced except for one little boy named Alfred ,who had other ideas. I had him come and sit beside me thinking that would keep him calm but it did not. Eventually I had to send him away from the group for it was unfair to the other children. For any incidents of that sort the parents were told what had happened. Alfred's mother said "you did exactly the right thing". I later learned that Alfred's mother had written a book on child psychology. I am rather glad I had not known it before !
We had a Halloween party for the children and they each had on masks for the event. I sent some pictures home to my parents and my father said "what in the world is wrong with those children's faces' .
All in all it was a very good experience for me to live in the lone star state for almost a year, to be on a military base and to get a taste of being a teacher. For when I went back home I went back to College for a year and a half, graduated and did take the very job I had once gone across the country to avoid.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The Good Old Days Part 2
In that first year of teaching I had an unconventional way of beginning our day. I began it with singing. I sang to the children " Good morning to you, good morning to you, good morning dear children, oh, how do you do". They would sing back to me. "Good morning to you, good morning to you, good morning dear teacher, oh how do you do." It was a signal that our school day was beginning.
We had some interesting things going on in our classroom for the two years I spent at that first school. We had been discussing animals and frogs so one of the boys brought in some frog eggs. I brought a fish bowl to school the next day. We put the eggs and water into the bowl. This was in the spring of the year. By and by we noticed a tad pole and eventually the frog emerged. We put a tree branch in the bowl and the frog found his way up on the branch. He was bright green with knobs on the ends of his feet which served as suction pads. We learned he was a tree frog. We returned him to the area where he was found but had the pleasure of observing his development.
At that time in the late 1940's we had a unit on pets. As part of the unit we decided to have a pet show and make some money for school supplies at the same time. So, on a designated day the children who had pets brought them to school and with the pets on their desks the entire school, room by room was invited to come in and vote for their favorite pet. A vote was one penny. We made about $20 and the winner was a hen named Betty. She was brought to school in a wire cage. I thought it was a fun time for the children and it is something we probably would not be allowed to do now.
These children were schooled in the ways of the woods as they were living everyday in the mountains. They appreciated the things we did in the classrooms. Remember there was no television to occupy their time. Most did not have newspapers, magazines or books in their homes. One of the great things about those mountain children was that I never had a discipline problem. They were so very well behaved.
I fell in love with one little boy who had lost both of his parents and had come to live with his grandparents. His name was Clyde and I saw so much potential in him. He was a very bright little boy, well mannered and well spoken. I wished that I could have adopted him. I never asked to as his grandparents loved him and he really belonged to them, but he touched my heart as no other child had done. After he was grown I met him in my home town and visited with him. He became a newspaper editor so my faith in him was well placed.
My second year there my niece was a student in my class. She had been to Kindergarten in Peoria, Ill. where her grandmother lived. She had spent the year before there with her, so she was much better prepared for school that the children who had not had that experience. Her best friend lived across the road from her. This best friend told my niece that when she grew up she was going to be a teacher but not like me. She was going to be a Christian teacher. She thought I was not since I wore nail polish. That kind of thinking was not uncommon at that time in that area.
I recall one little boy named Howard. He was very young and had not been away from his mother before coming to school. He cried a lot and that was not all. Each day he would jump out of the window and run home. One day I had an orange in my lunch. I offered it to him and he peeled it and ate it. It was like magic for he never ran away again and the crying stopped. I heard sad news about him about fifteen years later. He lost his life while riding a motorcycle.
In that state and at that time the superintendent of schools for the county was elected. Before an election the schools were dismissed early and all of the teachers were expected to go out to the various homes to campaign for the incumbent superintendent. We went in pairs and I went with a second grade teacher whose daughter was one of my students. At lunch time we went to her home and she made a sandwich for our lunch. I had never had anything like it before or since. It was cheese with brown sugar on it between two slices of white bread. Surprisingly, it tasted good.
If a teacher became ill there was no list from which to secure a substitute teacher. This did not happen often but it did a couple of times to me. My class was taken over by an eighth grader. Our principal was also the eighth grade teacher so he simply selected a good student to stand in for me. I do not recall there ever being a problem in my class due to my absence.
At the end of each month we had an attendance record to prepare. It could be a nightmare as we had to count half days. An accurate record of attendance was important because of the money that the state allotted for every child for each full day of attendance.
When I first entered college my plan was to major in Art. I had two years in which I took all the Art classes I could cram in. Then my oldest sister had a heart to heart with me and insisted that I change my major to a more practical outcome. I cried for three days but I had to obey and that is how I was steered into teaching. While at this first school, wanting to share my interests , I formed an after school Art club for the higher grade students. We would meet after school and take our drawing boards and paper and usually charcoal or dark pencils and find a spot overlooking the valley. We sketched what we saw in the landscape. It was a fun thing for me and I think for the older students also.
In spite of the antiquated building, materials available, books, furniture, transportation and general inconveniences, I look back on those early years of teaching with fondness. How could I do otherwise for the young children I worked with were so sweet, innocent and appreciative. It was not like work but more like play. I have been told that the school had burned and was replaced with a one story building below the hill I used to climb. No doubt this building has all of the amenities of any modern school . Perhaps each first grade classroom has its own bathroom. The school probably has a lunchroom and certainly a parking lot for the teachers cars. The playground must have playground equipment other than swings which is all we had. And if a teacher must be absent a qualified substitute will be called in and she will find detailed plans on the teacher's desk to guide her for the day. There will be teachers meetings, in service on a regular basis, a music teacher, gym teacher and maybe even a school counselor. Who knows maybe one of those teachers is a descendant of one of my first students. That is a happy thought for me.
We had some interesting things going on in our classroom for the two years I spent at that first school. We had been discussing animals and frogs so one of the boys brought in some frog eggs. I brought a fish bowl to school the next day. We put the eggs and water into the bowl. This was in the spring of the year. By and by we noticed a tad pole and eventually the frog emerged. We put a tree branch in the bowl and the frog found his way up on the branch. He was bright green with knobs on the ends of his feet which served as suction pads. We learned he was a tree frog. We returned him to the area where he was found but had the pleasure of observing his development.
At that time in the late 1940's we had a unit on pets. As part of the unit we decided to have a pet show and make some money for school supplies at the same time. So, on a designated day the children who had pets brought them to school and with the pets on their desks the entire school, room by room was invited to come in and vote for their favorite pet. A vote was one penny. We made about $20 and the winner was a hen named Betty. She was brought to school in a wire cage. I thought it was a fun time for the children and it is something we probably would not be allowed to do now.
These children were schooled in the ways of the woods as they were living everyday in the mountains. They appreciated the things we did in the classrooms. Remember there was no television to occupy their time. Most did not have newspapers, magazines or books in their homes. One of the great things about those mountain children was that I never had a discipline problem. They were so very well behaved.
I fell in love with one little boy who had lost both of his parents and had come to live with his grandparents. His name was Clyde and I saw so much potential in him. He was a very bright little boy, well mannered and well spoken. I wished that I could have adopted him. I never asked to as his grandparents loved him and he really belonged to them, but he touched my heart as no other child had done. After he was grown I met him in my home town and visited with him. He became a newspaper editor so my faith in him was well placed.
My second year there my niece was a student in my class. She had been to Kindergarten in Peoria, Ill. where her grandmother lived. She had spent the year before there with her, so she was much better prepared for school that the children who had not had that experience. Her best friend lived across the road from her. This best friend told my niece that when she grew up she was going to be a teacher but not like me. She was going to be a Christian teacher. She thought I was not since I wore nail polish. That kind of thinking was not uncommon at that time in that area.
I recall one little boy named Howard. He was very young and had not been away from his mother before coming to school. He cried a lot and that was not all. Each day he would jump out of the window and run home. One day I had an orange in my lunch. I offered it to him and he peeled it and ate it. It was like magic for he never ran away again and the crying stopped. I heard sad news about him about fifteen years later. He lost his life while riding a motorcycle.
In that state and at that time the superintendent of schools for the county was elected. Before an election the schools were dismissed early and all of the teachers were expected to go out to the various homes to campaign for the incumbent superintendent. We went in pairs and I went with a second grade teacher whose daughter was one of my students. At lunch time we went to her home and she made a sandwich for our lunch. I had never had anything like it before or since. It was cheese with brown sugar on it between two slices of white bread. Surprisingly, it tasted good.
If a teacher became ill there was no list from which to secure a substitute teacher. This did not happen often but it did a couple of times to me. My class was taken over by an eighth grader. Our principal was also the eighth grade teacher so he simply selected a good student to stand in for me. I do not recall there ever being a problem in my class due to my absence.
At the end of each month we had an attendance record to prepare. It could be a nightmare as we had to count half days. An accurate record of attendance was important because of the money that the state allotted for every child for each full day of attendance.
When I first entered college my plan was to major in Art. I had two years in which I took all the Art classes I could cram in. Then my oldest sister had a heart to heart with me and insisted that I change my major to a more practical outcome. I cried for three days but I had to obey and that is how I was steered into teaching. While at this first school, wanting to share my interests , I formed an after school Art club for the higher grade students. We would meet after school and take our drawing boards and paper and usually charcoal or dark pencils and find a spot overlooking the valley. We sketched what we saw in the landscape. It was a fun thing for me and I think for the older students also.
In spite of the antiquated building, materials available, books, furniture, transportation and general inconveniences, I look back on those early years of teaching with fondness. How could I do otherwise for the young children I worked with were so sweet, innocent and appreciative. It was not like work but more like play. I have been told that the school had burned and was replaced with a one story building below the hill I used to climb. No doubt this building has all of the amenities of any modern school . Perhaps each first grade classroom has its own bathroom. The school probably has a lunchroom and certainly a parking lot for the teachers cars. The playground must have playground equipment other than swings which is all we had. And if a teacher must be absent a qualified substitute will be called in and she will find detailed plans on the teacher's desk to guide her for the day. There will be teachers meetings, in service on a regular basis, a music teacher, gym teacher and maybe even a school counselor. Who knows maybe one of those teachers is a descendant of one of my first students. That is a happy thought for me.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Good Old Days Part 1
Sometimes the way we remember the past is in selective memory mode. We think of the really good things or the really bad things. What I am thinking about today is my first few years of teaching in southeastern Kentucky.
The first school where I taught just happened to be the same school where I began my education. My oldest sister was my teacher then and the year was 1931. It was a very short school year for me. I was too young and after one day my sister decided I was not ready. She based this on me bursting into tears when we were playing a game. It was "Have You Seen My Little Rabbit". I was told to go by each child's desk with my hands folded as in prayer. I had to ask each child if he/she had seen my little rabbit. After four or five negative answers of "No, I have not seen your little rabbit" is when I began crying. The game was intended to emphasize the proper use of "seen", as the mountain children had the habit of saying "seed" instead of seen.
The next year I did complete the year and also the next under the tutelage of my oldest sister. After that my parents moved us into the county seat and I attended school there.
The year that I began teaching was also my first year of marriage. My husband and I had both just graduated from Eastern Ky. State Teachers College in Richmond, Ky. Being a new bride, a new teacher and a new homemaker all fell at the same time. The classroom I occupied was a lower corner room which proved to be very convenient. In this
picture taken in Feb. of 1949 you can see my corner room and also a lot of the boys and girls in this school which was perched on the top of a mountain. It was not a huge mountain but it surely seemed that way as I had to climb it after I left the bus at the road below and follow a path carrying any and all teaching supplies. That was year round and being young and healthy I thought nothing of it. There was a road up to the school but I never was on it as the bus did not take that route.
The first year I was there 45 first graders came into my room. After one week I saw that five of those little mountain boys and girls were simply not ready for school. Most were the age I had been at 5 years when I was taken to school. I sent a note home to the mothers and asked them to come to the school to see me. I explained the reasons why their young children would be so much better off if they waited one year to enter school. They were all very cooperative as in those days, if the teacher said it, then it was true.
After my class was diminished by 5, I had 40 delightful little eager learners. They had never been to Kindergarten, had not had any beautiful books to read or have read to them so I set about to remedy that. Our school did not have a library. I went every other week to the public library in my town ten miles away, and checked out the maximum number of children's story books allowed. I then had a library table where the children could visit when their work was complered. This was a treat for them and a great incentive to finish their paper.
I had a duplicating machine which sounds impossible in this day and time. It consisted of a rectangular metal box filled with a glycerin coated sheet of gelatin. It was about 1/2 inch thick. I used a special pencil to print out the days work paper. It was purple. No other pencil would do for this purpose. The "hectograph" was the name of the box and the hectograph pencil was what I used. A special sponge was used to wet the surface, then the prepared lesson paper was placed on the surface with the purple pencil side down touching the gelatin surface. The paper was smoothed out and left for a very brief time so the print could soak into the surface, then it was removed. As many sheets as you wanted to print were put down and rubbed over then pulled up. The next day the pattern of your paper had filtered down to the bottom and another new prepared paper could be put down. At this pace you can see why I only used one work sheet in a day.
The building I was in did have two bathrooms, one for the entire school for boys and one for girls. Unfortunately most of the time they were out of order so we had an outhouse for all to use. That was probably the most regretful aspect of being there, but there were others.!!
Most of the children went home for lunch. There was no lunchroom in the building. We all brown bagged it, even me !! Since we had no running water in the room I improvised with a small metal pan, a jug of water and a bar of soap (no liquid soap then). Every child had to wash his hands before lunch. I stood there and held the jug of water to pour over the little hands until all were clean. After lunch was recess. The corner windows in my room provided a fine place for all of the teachers to congregate to watch their classes at play. I always had things to prepare for the afternoon reading lesson so as I worked they socialized and watched the playground.
Once my principal asked me if their presence disturbed me from my work. I told him no, that I just went ahead with what I needed to do. We did not have teacher/principal conferences. I did find a note of approval on my desk one day. It was written on an index card which he had found on my desk. It said "Your children are doing the best I have ever seen in a first year teacher". Since I was hired for the second year I suppose that was his approval !!
The first school where I taught just happened to be the same school where I began my education. My oldest sister was my teacher then and the year was 1931. It was a very short school year for me. I was too young and after one day my sister decided I was not ready. She based this on me bursting into tears when we were playing a game. It was "Have You Seen My Little Rabbit". I was told to go by each child's desk with my hands folded as in prayer. I had to ask each child if he/she had seen my little rabbit. After four or five negative answers of "No, I have not seen your little rabbit" is when I began crying. The game was intended to emphasize the proper use of "seen", as the mountain children had the habit of saying "seed" instead of seen.
The next year I did complete the year and also the next under the tutelage of my oldest sister. After that my parents moved us into the county seat and I attended school there.
The year that I began teaching was also my first year of marriage. My husband and I had both just graduated from Eastern Ky. State Teachers College in Richmond, Ky. Being a new bride, a new teacher and a new homemaker all fell at the same time. The classroom I occupied was a lower corner room which proved to be very convenient. In this
picture taken in Feb. of 1949 you can see my corner room and also a lot of the boys and girls in this school which was perched on the top of a mountain. It was not a huge mountain but it surely seemed that way as I had to climb it after I left the bus at the road below and follow a path carrying any and all teaching supplies. That was year round and being young and healthy I thought nothing of it. There was a road up to the school but I never was on it as the bus did not take that route.The first year I was there 45 first graders came into my room. After one week I saw that five of those little mountain boys and girls were simply not ready for school. Most were the age I had been at 5 years when I was taken to school. I sent a note home to the mothers and asked them to come to the school to see me. I explained the reasons why their young children would be so much better off if they waited one year to enter school. They were all very cooperative as in those days, if the teacher said it, then it was true.
After my class was diminished by 5, I had 40 delightful little eager learners. They had never been to Kindergarten, had not had any beautiful books to read or have read to them so I set about to remedy that. Our school did not have a library. I went every other week to the public library in my town ten miles away, and checked out the maximum number of children's story books allowed. I then had a library table where the children could visit when their work was complered. This was a treat for them and a great incentive to finish their paper.
I had a duplicating machine which sounds impossible in this day and time. It consisted of a rectangular metal box filled with a glycerin coated sheet of gelatin. It was about 1/2 inch thick. I used a special pencil to print out the days work paper. It was purple. No other pencil would do for this purpose. The "hectograph" was the name of the box and the hectograph pencil was what I used. A special sponge was used to wet the surface, then the prepared lesson paper was placed on the surface with the purple pencil side down touching the gelatin surface. The paper was smoothed out and left for a very brief time so the print could soak into the surface, then it was removed. As many sheets as you wanted to print were put down and rubbed over then pulled up. The next day the pattern of your paper had filtered down to the bottom and another new prepared paper could be put down. At this pace you can see why I only used one work sheet in a day.
The building I was in did have two bathrooms, one for the entire school for boys and one for girls. Unfortunately most of the time they were out of order so we had an outhouse for all to use. That was probably the most regretful aspect of being there, but there were others.!!
Most of the children went home for lunch. There was no lunchroom in the building. We all brown bagged it, even me !! Since we had no running water in the room I improvised with a small metal pan, a jug of water and a bar of soap (no liquid soap then). Every child had to wash his hands before lunch. I stood there and held the jug of water to pour over the little hands until all were clean. After lunch was recess. The corner windows in my room provided a fine place for all of the teachers to congregate to watch their classes at play. I always had things to prepare for the afternoon reading lesson so as I worked they socialized and watched the playground.
Once my principal asked me if their presence disturbed me from my work. I told him no, that I just went ahead with what I needed to do. We did not have teacher/principal conferences. I did find a note of approval on my desk one day. It was written on an index card which he had found on my desk. It said "Your children are doing the best I have ever seen in a first year teacher". Since I was hired for the second year I suppose that was his approval !!
Monday, September 21, 2009
Woodworking Hobby
This is a picture of a bluebird house which my brother made for me. I now have three of them around this place. One is visible from my front door. One is near the road leading to my house. The other one is on the far end of the property at the upper end of the vineyard. Usually they are occupied by bluebirds but on some occasions I learn that other birds have moved into one of the unoccupied houses. Once I found a tiny blue feather on the ground under the one in the far end of the vineyard. I peeked inside and saw little blue feathers all over the nest of eggs. When I explained this to my brother he said a tree swallow had moved in. He was correct as the tree swallow covers her eggs with her small fragile feathers.This hobby of making things from wood started when he was a teenager in high school. In the 1940's most boys in high school in our part of the country had a class in manual arts. He chose to make a cherry end table. It was a beautiful piece of furniture which graced my mothers home for many years. It is now in the state of Illinois in my older brother's home. A few years ago one of the legs was broken so my woodworking brother made a new one for this table.
After retirement my brother returned to this hobby. He had a large work shop built at the end of his property. Since retirement he has been making reproductions of antique furniture for different members of his family. For one of our family reunions he made a desk, chiming clock from walnut as a door prize. My sister from Ohio was the lucky recipient of this lovely clock. When he saw how much I admired it he made one for me. He also made a wall shelf for it to sit on. It is now on my wall in the front room and is a work of art. He involved me in the making of it by asking me to paint roses on the face of the clock. This I did and also had the glass over it frosted so that the pendulum is exposed as it moves back and forth.
The people in his church, The Sinking Springs Presbyterian Church
in Abingdon know about his woodworking skills so they asked him to make a 7 foot cross of walnut to hang over the altar. That cross is shown to the right. He was asked to replace windows in an old steam engine which is parked in their historic town. This he did also.He has been making very good use of his retirement years with his woodworking skills. I know that he makes bluebird houses which are placed at strategic places for the purpose of increasing the bluebird population.
I feel so privileged to actually own on of his reproductions. To be able to use a skill that was learned in your teens and continue with it all of your life for the benefit of nature and man is a satisfying hobby. Thank you my brother for all of the many worthy things you do and have done in your lifetime.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Soup Memories
Today being a damp day and a good fall day for soup, I stopped by the local Ingles store after getting my flu shot and purchased some lean beef cubes. Whenever I think of good soup I remember when my husband and I first moved to Salisbury Maryland. Our first home there was an upstairs apartment of a retired fire chief and his wife. One day she brought me a big bowl of her home made beef soup. It had little pools of fat on the top and it was absolutely the best soup I had ever eaten !!
So whenever I think of really good soup I think of that day. Growing up my mother would invariably make vegetable soup on wash days. She used a meat base with ground beef. She also used some of her summer vegetables she had canned earlier in the year. It was always, corn, tomatoes and okra. As a child I mostly remember that she also baked two pies on each wash day. One was lemon and the other chocolate. Chocolate being my favorite I would inspect the meringue on top to see which was which. I have always marveled how she had time to make soup and two pies and on a busy day like washing for 10 people !
Another soup we had almost each week was pinto soup beans made with fatback for flavoring. And of course that called for cornbread made in a heavy black iron skillet, the undisputed pan for making crispy, moist buttermilk cornbread !!!! Yum. It was well known in our family that one of my older brothers was crazy about soup beans. His Yankee wife knew this too but would never cook this, saying she did not know how. She was more into elegant desserts. When my brother would be visiting any one of my older sisters they would always make sure that pinto bean soup was on the menu. Much to his delight.
In the 1950's when I lived in Baltimore Maryland my mother came to visit. The occasion was for her to stay with me during a difficult pregnancy. One day we went into the main part of the city to shop and had lunch in one of the big department stores. I ordered soup and noticed something in it that I could not identify so I asked the waitress what it was. She said turnips. I thought it was a good soup so I adopted the habit of adding one turnip to my soup, and this morning I bought one lovely purple top turnip to complete the assortment of vegetables for this soup today.
Something else I put in the soup for the first time today was dried tomatoes. My daughter had taken home some of the plum tomatoes from my garden and dried them. I had not thought to do that with any of the tomatoes I harvested. The plum type was perfect for drying as it had very little juice inside. I had put her dried tomatoes in the freezer to ensure that they stayed fresh, though dried. When I cut them today they were indeed dried and crisp and made a nice crunch when I cut them.
One soup I have not tried but really want to, is cheese soup. Way back in 1972 I was sick with pneumonia and felt just so bad I stayed in bed around the clock. A dear friend who was a Home Economics major made cheese soup for me, a big bowl of it. I was too sick to eat it and by the time I had recovered sufficiently to make use of it, it was no longer edible. What a loss. I know it must have been delicious as everything she cooked was top notch.
Simmering soup can give off an aroma to warm the soul. Books have been written about soup even for children. Stone Soup is a children's story written to highlight cooperation. I have not read it for ages. But it could apply to a lot of things. One that comes to mind is the popular potluck dinner. We do this each month at our church. A lot of good recipes are exchanged after these dinners. This past year the ladies of our church published their second cookbook. We had numerous meetings about this publication. A lot of the recipes from the original church cookbook were included. I made this past Christmas my cookbook year as I bought them for family and friends far and wide. I used one of the recipes yesterday which had been in the old book. It called for a procedure which was new to me, chocolate melted with paraffin for dipping a ball of nuts and fruit. The results were quite pleasing. The books will be on sale at a fall festival nearby. The church ladies each made something from the cookbook and samples will be given out to visitors to our booth. Most cooks like to share their recipes and their favorite foods as well. It is a pleasant way to nurture friendships. Perhaps I will share this soup I am cooking today with one of my neighbors. She may not be planning on soup tonight and it may just warm her spirits.
So whenever I think of really good soup I think of that day. Growing up my mother would invariably make vegetable soup on wash days. She used a meat base with ground beef. She also used some of her summer vegetables she had canned earlier in the year. It was always, corn, tomatoes and okra. As a child I mostly remember that she also baked two pies on each wash day. One was lemon and the other chocolate. Chocolate being my favorite I would inspect the meringue on top to see which was which. I have always marveled how she had time to make soup and two pies and on a busy day like washing for 10 people !
Another soup we had almost each week was pinto soup beans made with fatback for flavoring. And of course that called for cornbread made in a heavy black iron skillet, the undisputed pan for making crispy, moist buttermilk cornbread !!!! Yum. It was well known in our family that one of my older brothers was crazy about soup beans. His Yankee wife knew this too but would never cook this, saying she did not know how. She was more into elegant desserts. When my brother would be visiting any one of my older sisters they would always make sure that pinto bean soup was on the menu. Much to his delight.
In the 1950's when I lived in Baltimore Maryland my mother came to visit. The occasion was for her to stay with me during a difficult pregnancy. One day we went into the main part of the city to shop and had lunch in one of the big department stores. I ordered soup and noticed something in it that I could not identify so I asked the waitress what it was. She said turnips. I thought it was a good soup so I adopted the habit of adding one turnip to my soup, and this morning I bought one lovely purple top turnip to complete the assortment of vegetables for this soup today.
Something else I put in the soup for the first time today was dried tomatoes. My daughter had taken home some of the plum tomatoes from my garden and dried them. I had not thought to do that with any of the tomatoes I harvested. The plum type was perfect for drying as it had very little juice inside. I had put her dried tomatoes in the freezer to ensure that they stayed fresh, though dried. When I cut them today they were indeed dried and crisp and made a nice crunch when I cut them.
One soup I have not tried but really want to, is cheese soup. Way back in 1972 I was sick with pneumonia and felt just so bad I stayed in bed around the clock. A dear friend who was a Home Economics major made cheese soup for me, a big bowl of it. I was too sick to eat it and by the time I had recovered sufficiently to make use of it, it was no longer edible. What a loss. I know it must have been delicious as everything she cooked was top notch.
Simmering soup can give off an aroma to warm the soul. Books have been written about soup even for children. Stone Soup is a children's story written to highlight cooperation. I have not read it for ages. But it could apply to a lot of things. One that comes to mind is the popular potluck dinner. We do this each month at our church. A lot of good recipes are exchanged after these dinners. This past year the ladies of our church published their second cookbook. We had numerous meetings about this publication. A lot of the recipes from the original church cookbook were included. I made this past Christmas my cookbook year as I bought them for family and friends far and wide. I used one of the recipes yesterday which had been in the old book. It called for a procedure which was new to me, chocolate melted with paraffin for dipping a ball of nuts and fruit. The results were quite pleasing. The books will be on sale at a fall festival nearby. The church ladies each made something from the cookbook and samples will be given out to visitors to our booth. Most cooks like to share their recipes and their favorite foods as well. It is a pleasant way to nurture friendships. Perhaps I will share this soup I am cooking today with one of my neighbors. She may not be planning on soup tonight and it may just warm her spirits.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Fall Tomatoes
As I was returning home yesterday I noticed ripe tomatoes down in the raised beds. So, this morning I took a market basket down and filled it with 30 tomatoes. I had to pitch about 8 of them into the woods as they were split from all of the recent rain and the bugs had gotten into them. Of the 30 I brought up some had blemishes and some splits but I considered them salvageable . I decided to call my neighbor and see if she would like some of the basil in my garden. Her husband said they had a big harvest of it themselves. He was interested in some tomatoes so I took them over. He showed me his new plantings and they all did look very pretty. Since he had a landscaper do his new property it was picture perfect.
He asked me what had happened to my leg. It was all bandaged up. I showed him the bottom of the car door and explained that I had shut the door on my leg. He said "Well, that was stupid".
I did not take umbrage to his remark but agreed with him. This was the third time I had ripped my leg open by closing the door when I exited too quickly. The first time it happened it was a deep cut. My son-in-law was here so he took me to the Quick Care office and it required some stitches. That time I did not have on long pants to give my leg some protection. This time I was wearing blue jeans and the cut was superficial I doctored it myself. My son-in-law had put yellow caution tape inside the car to remind me to exit slowly and carefully. That worked for about a year. Today I moved the tape to a different place near the handle of the door. I do not think I am accident prone, but I do need to slow down and I do when I am using the staircase, or rounding corners, or handling knives !!
I was not always so careful with knives. Many years ago, I was living in Decatur and had just come home from the lake. I was hungry and so was my son. I went to the freezer and removed some hamburgers. That was the day I learned to separate items to be frozen. That day I had not separated these patties of beef. I was holding a set of patties in my left hand and I took a knife in my right hand to separate them. Well, disaster struck and blood went everywhere. Fortunately my son was driving then and he took me to the ER at a hospital two blocks away. The doctor I saw knew how to diffuse a tense situation. He looked at my bleeding and slit hand, looked intently at me and said "was this a clumsy suicide attempt". I burst out laughing and then it all seemed funny to me. But I always make sure when I freeze anything it is separated from other items in the package by wax paper.
When I got home from my neighbors house today I started working on the basket of tomatoes, cutting out the blemishes and cooking them in a pot for cooling and later freezing. As I worked I was thinking about the garden at this time of year. The asparagus will need cutting at the ground and some good organic material spread over the bed and turned in. Perhaps I will have the soil tested to be sure it is the right ph balance for a good crop next year.
In thinking of tomatoes to plant next year, I do not think I will plant plum tomatoes again. They did taste okay but for the space they took up a larger tomato would be more useful. I would like to plant the Goliath again and the Parks whopper also. The treatment for the nematodes in the two lower beds should put them in good shape for green beans next year. I like the blue lake snap beans for freezing. Perhaps the best tasting bean is the white half runner, but it also has more prominent strings and if all are not removed it is unpleasant to eat. I would like to try to find a good bean to use for leather britches next year. The one time I made them they were absolutely the best tasting beans I had ever eaten. It has to be a bean without strings for sure. It may be that the drying of the beans as they hang on the strings causes them to have a more intense flavor. That is the only explanation I can think of for such a wonderful flavor.
For this time of year however, I am having a lot of tomatoes still coming from these three plants. I hope we have a long fall and the frost does not come until December. That would be ideal as I could save a lot more of the green tomatoes and enjoy them into winter. In times past when I have wrapped them in newspaper and stored in a box I had fresh tomatoes at Thanksgiving. As I was cutting up the nice red tomatoes today I kept thinking of how I would love to have them in the dead of winter. The closest thing to compare to that is the "vine tomatoes" which are grown in Canada. As a child growing up I could not have dreamed of having fresh tomatoes from Canada in the winter. We are indeed living in a remarkable time when we can enjoy fresh grapes from Chili, blood oranges from Israel and all of the wonderful fruit from the western coast. Yet, nothing can compare with growing your own tomatoes and harvesting them far into the autumn.
He asked me what had happened to my leg. It was all bandaged up. I showed him the bottom of the car door and explained that I had shut the door on my leg. He said "Well, that was stupid".
I did not take umbrage to his remark but agreed with him. This was the third time I had ripped my leg open by closing the door when I exited too quickly. The first time it happened it was a deep cut. My son-in-law was here so he took me to the Quick Care office and it required some stitches. That time I did not have on long pants to give my leg some protection. This time I was wearing blue jeans and the cut was superficial I doctored it myself. My son-in-law had put yellow caution tape inside the car to remind me to exit slowly and carefully. That worked for about a year. Today I moved the tape to a different place near the handle of the door. I do not think I am accident prone, but I do need to slow down and I do when I am using the staircase, or rounding corners, or handling knives !!
I was not always so careful with knives. Many years ago, I was living in Decatur and had just come home from the lake. I was hungry and so was my son. I went to the freezer and removed some hamburgers. That was the day I learned to separate items to be frozen. That day I had not separated these patties of beef. I was holding a set of patties in my left hand and I took a knife in my right hand to separate them. Well, disaster struck and blood went everywhere. Fortunately my son was driving then and he took me to the ER at a hospital two blocks away. The doctor I saw knew how to diffuse a tense situation. He looked at my bleeding and slit hand, looked intently at me and said "was this a clumsy suicide attempt". I burst out laughing and then it all seemed funny to me. But I always make sure when I freeze anything it is separated from other items in the package by wax paper.
When I got home from my neighbors house today I started working on the basket of tomatoes, cutting out the blemishes and cooking them in a pot for cooling and later freezing. As I worked I was thinking about the garden at this time of year. The asparagus will need cutting at the ground and some good organic material spread over the bed and turned in. Perhaps I will have the soil tested to be sure it is the right ph balance for a good crop next year.
In thinking of tomatoes to plant next year, I do not think I will plant plum tomatoes again. They did taste okay but for the space they took up a larger tomato would be more useful. I would like to plant the Goliath again and the Parks whopper also. The treatment for the nematodes in the two lower beds should put them in good shape for green beans next year. I like the blue lake snap beans for freezing. Perhaps the best tasting bean is the white half runner, but it also has more prominent strings and if all are not removed it is unpleasant to eat. I would like to try to find a good bean to use for leather britches next year. The one time I made them they were absolutely the best tasting beans I had ever eaten. It has to be a bean without strings for sure. It may be that the drying of the beans as they hang on the strings causes them to have a more intense flavor. That is the only explanation I can think of for such a wonderful flavor.
For this time of year however, I am having a lot of tomatoes still coming from these three plants. I hope we have a long fall and the frost does not come until December. That would be ideal as I could save a lot more of the green tomatoes and enjoy them into winter. In times past when I have wrapped them in newspaper and stored in a box I had fresh tomatoes at Thanksgiving. As I was cutting up the nice red tomatoes today I kept thinking of how I would love to have them in the dead of winter. The closest thing to compare to that is the "vine tomatoes" which are grown in Canada. As a child growing up I could not have dreamed of having fresh tomatoes from Canada in the winter. We are indeed living in a remarkable time when we can enjoy fresh grapes from Chili, blood oranges from Israel and all of the wonderful fruit from the western coast. Yet, nothing can compare with growing your own tomatoes and harvesting them far into the autumn.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Aids in Old Age
I know !! You are thinking of Aids the pernicious disease . But I am thinking of a different kind of aids. Everyone in my family knows that stored in my attic is a bed pan. It is to stay there. The reason being is that if I throw it away, I will surely need it. My reasoning is that as long as it is there I will stay well and mobile and never, no never need to use it. !! The same applies to carrying an umbrella. I keep one in the glove compartment of my car, also a flashlight. So far I have never needed the flashlight on the road so that part works for me.
My son-in-law was chatting with me and he asked me if I had a cane. I told him I had one his wife had given me to carry when I go berry picking. I can stamp it on the ground to warn snakes of my presence, thus they never appear where I am picking. I told him I had thought of putting it up in the attic also. Come to think of it I may just pitch a package of Depends up there too. Also maybe a hearing aid could be put up there. I have never known anyone who uses a hearing aid and was happy with it. They squeal and wake people up in church or interrupt conversations and seem to be a general nuisance.
I could add a magnifying glass to the stash. So far I can read from the telephone directory but not for any length of time, or at least not comfortably for a long time. I use them for driving because of my own fault. Some years ago I went in to get my drivers license renewed. While waiting for the clerk to get on with it, I glanced into the eye test figures and just said them out loud - and not carefully looking at them. She announced to me "You need glasses to drive". I could not dispute her as I had not even paid attention to what I had done. I will admit that it is easier and more restful to drive wearing glasses for distance. I have actually called my sister in Ohio to tell you I had misplaced my glasses and couldn't drive off without them. For some reason this works for me and I always will soon find them, usually where I had looked before.
I have not learned how to avoid misplacing things however and I do not know of any aid for that. Once I called my neighbor and told him not to leave his home until I had found my house keys ! I could not get out of my house without them. I had a key hidden outside for just such an occasion. He complied with my request and it ended happily as I did find my keys inside.
There are probably a lot of aids we would all like to avoid having to rely upon. I suppose it all boils down to adjusting to changes. That is where family is such a valuable asset. They are there to be supportive and encouraging. A role reversal if you will, what we once did for them they are doing for us. That is one aid I would not want to throw up into the attic for I treasure using that support in my advanced years. It give me cheer and joy and adds adventure to my life, a kind of crutch which is needed on occasion and the rest of the time I can walk without it.
My son-in-law was chatting with me and he asked me if I had a cane. I told him I had one his wife had given me to carry when I go berry picking. I can stamp it on the ground to warn snakes of my presence, thus they never appear where I am picking. I told him I had thought of putting it up in the attic also. Come to think of it I may just pitch a package of Depends up there too. Also maybe a hearing aid could be put up there. I have never known anyone who uses a hearing aid and was happy with it. They squeal and wake people up in church or interrupt conversations and seem to be a general nuisance.
I could add a magnifying glass to the stash. So far I can read from the telephone directory but not for any length of time, or at least not comfortably for a long time. I use them for driving because of my own fault. Some years ago I went in to get my drivers license renewed. While waiting for the clerk to get on with it, I glanced into the eye test figures and just said them out loud - and not carefully looking at them. She announced to me "You need glasses to drive". I could not dispute her as I had not even paid attention to what I had done. I will admit that it is easier and more restful to drive wearing glasses for distance. I have actually called my sister in Ohio to tell you I had misplaced my glasses and couldn't drive off without them. For some reason this works for me and I always will soon find them, usually where I had looked before.
I have not learned how to avoid misplacing things however and I do not know of any aid for that. Once I called my neighbor and told him not to leave his home until I had found my house keys ! I could not get out of my house without them. I had a key hidden outside for just such an occasion. He complied with my request and it ended happily as I did find my keys inside.
There are probably a lot of aids we would all like to avoid having to rely upon. I suppose it all boils down to adjusting to changes. That is where family is such a valuable asset. They are there to be supportive and encouraging. A role reversal if you will, what we once did for them they are doing for us. That is one aid I would not want to throw up into the attic for I treasure using that support in my advanced years. It give me cheer and joy and adds adventure to my life, a kind of crutch which is needed on occasion and the rest of the time I can walk without it.
Rainy Days
Scattered showers are predicted for our state all of this week. I had already determined that I would spend the day at home as I had been out all of the day before and did not get home until after dark. A relaxed day was in order to balance things out.
Spending a day doing whatever one feels like doing is a luxury to me. Even in retirement there seems to always be something waiting to be done. Cleaning out drawers is one chore I put off as long as possible. That chore was now demanded as I needed to put a new package of computer paper in my desk drawer . It had been taking up space on my table for days. In that crowded drawer I found a letter written last summer asking me if I wanted a book returned. I had forgotten who I had given the book to so I had to get busy and write to my friend of around 75 years.
Later I saw some very old letters in a plastic zip lok bag. I had started to read them but had to lay them aside. Now was a good time to finish them. These were letters I had written to my husband in 1969. He was in Atlanta and I was in Maryland. I was busy trying to sell our home there so the children and I could join him in Atlanta. He was busy with his new job and also looking for a house to buy. The letters I had written to him were about that situation plus all of the things that we had been doing in his absence.
It had been a very rainy summer in Maryland where we lived near the Chesapeake Bay. We lived where there was a very high water table and I was having problems with water seeping in under our house. The sump pump was not working properly and my 13 year old son and I spent a lot of time bailing water out of that crawl space !! Not a good scenario when you are trying to sell a home. Trying to accomplish that, sell a house, keep two teens occupied and also keep my sanity made for a very busy time. I wrote to my husband almost every day that summer and he called home each night. Our calls were taken up with matters of house hunting so the family activities were recorded in those letters. He had saved all of those letters and now I am glad that he did.
Some of the incidents I recall, as my daughter and her friend baking a green cheese cake to celebrate Neil Armstrong walking on the moon. And who could forget spending a summer bailing water from under your house ! But a lot of fun things had been forgotten, like taking the children to various activities, a crab feast in the neighborhood and tipsy neighbors becoming a bit uninhibited !! Of course I had to write to my husband about that. We were not drinkers so it was a curious thing to see others out of character.
Along with the letters I found one I had written to my mother when I was away at college. It was my home made Mothers Day card to her. She had written on the outside "save and give back - some day". It was interesting to see after 65 years.
The balance of the day was spent reading family records that went back to the 1700's. These papers had been sent to me by my brother during his genealogy search. I was captivated by some of these papers which were recorded in historical publications. I was so engrossed in them that darkness crept in and when I looked at my watch three hours had passed. It was way past my usual dinner hour so I had to call it a day. And quite a day it was that I had spent in the distant past. Now it was time to come back to the present, but those thoughts will go with me into the future and the letters will no doubt be handed down to a future generation for a rainy day.
Spending a day doing whatever one feels like doing is a luxury to me. Even in retirement there seems to always be something waiting to be done. Cleaning out drawers is one chore I put off as long as possible. That chore was now demanded as I needed to put a new package of computer paper in my desk drawer . It had been taking up space on my table for days. In that crowded drawer I found a letter written last summer asking me if I wanted a book returned. I had forgotten who I had given the book to so I had to get busy and write to my friend of around 75 years.
Later I saw some very old letters in a plastic zip lok bag. I had started to read them but had to lay them aside. Now was a good time to finish them. These were letters I had written to my husband in 1969. He was in Atlanta and I was in Maryland. I was busy trying to sell our home there so the children and I could join him in Atlanta. He was busy with his new job and also looking for a house to buy. The letters I had written to him were about that situation plus all of the things that we had been doing in his absence.
It had been a very rainy summer in Maryland where we lived near the Chesapeake Bay. We lived where there was a very high water table and I was having problems with water seeping in under our house. The sump pump was not working properly and my 13 year old son and I spent a lot of time bailing water out of that crawl space !! Not a good scenario when you are trying to sell a home. Trying to accomplish that, sell a house, keep two teens occupied and also keep my sanity made for a very busy time. I wrote to my husband almost every day that summer and he called home each night. Our calls were taken up with matters of house hunting so the family activities were recorded in those letters. He had saved all of those letters and now I am glad that he did.
Some of the incidents I recall, as my daughter and her friend baking a green cheese cake to celebrate Neil Armstrong walking on the moon. And who could forget spending a summer bailing water from under your house ! But a lot of fun things had been forgotten, like taking the children to various activities, a crab feast in the neighborhood and tipsy neighbors becoming a bit uninhibited !! Of course I had to write to my husband about that. We were not drinkers so it was a curious thing to see others out of character.
Along with the letters I found one I had written to my mother when I was away at college. It was my home made Mothers Day card to her. She had written on the outside "save and give back - some day". It was interesting to see after 65 years.
The balance of the day was spent reading family records that went back to the 1700's. These papers had been sent to me by my brother during his genealogy search. I was captivated by some of these papers which were recorded in historical publications. I was so engrossed in them that darkness crept in and when I looked at my watch three hours had passed. It was way past my usual dinner hour so I had to call it a day. And quite a day it was that I had spent in the distant past. Now it was time to come back to the present, but those thoughts will go with me into the future and the letters will no doubt be handed down to a future generation for a rainy day.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Rocks
It just dawned on me today that, I LIKE ROCKS !! This revelation came to me as I was walking my mile around my house. I have a collection of small rocks on the back of my golf cart and each time I complete one walk around my house I move a rock to a separate pile to keep up with my laps. Twenty laps and I have gone one mile. I began today with a book in my hands and I was reading as I walked. After a bit I tired of this so I put down the book and put my hands in my pockets and began walking and looking down. This reminded me of how I would not allow my little boys to do this as they walked down the halls at school. My concern was that if they stumbled and fell they would not have a free hand to help ease the fall. I was breaking one of my steadfast rules for my young students. So, I took my hands from my pockets and concentrated on looking at the gravel on the roadway. Those thoughts took me to the back of my house where I have a rip rap retaining wall. I had some high school boys help me build this wall. My husband would normally have done this but with his impaired vision he was not up to the job. He did oversee the beginning however, showing the boys how to dig a foundation and how to lay the rocks back gradually to a 12 inch slant. All of this for stability. I had the job of mixing the mortar to use in with the rocks for a secure strong wall. I used a wheel barrow to mix the sand, water and concrete to the proper consistency. Then I transferred it to a 5 gallon bucket. Sometimes I carried it to where the boys were working. That may be why I have strong bones now, from labor like that. I may be partial to this rock wall as I have a personal investment in the building of it.
Beyond this wall, and at eye level is a huge table rock. It is about 5 feet across and around one foot high. It was here when we first came here and no one has seen fit to attempt to move it. That would be an impossible task and I think it is quite attractive as it is with flowers and shrubs near by.
At the front of my house where the walk way begins are two huge rocks, one on each side of the walk. Another case of huge rocks too big to move easily so they were slid over to mark the entrance. Right now they have been covered by the encroaching blue rug juniper planted there many years ago. For years I have had to be careful when parking in front so as not to open my car door and hit one of them. I must write a memo to myself to do some pruning down there.!
Some years ago I had a retired gentleman who helped me with chores around here. He had a creative streak and he suggested I allow him to make a rock wall in front of my house and use it for a boundary for flowers. It sounded good to me so I just gave him carte blanche with my blessings. He used rocks that are large and flat and laid in stacked rows. In between them he built steps so I could go up through the middle of them. At the west end of the wall it is as tall as I am as he designed it to follow the slanting lay of the land. I could not have asked for a nicer flower bed. This wall is like a natural outcropping and it pleases me more as years go by.
Since I was so happy with this creation of his he suggested building a similar wall in the curve of my road. That is what he did and each time I drive out of here I go between these big flat curved walls of rock. The inside curve has been damaged several times when big trucks come in for the first time and misjudge the space for their trucks. This has never happened to the outside curve. These walls blend into the landscape and are a natural setting for perennials.
I miss my friend as he was witty and intelligent and fun to work with. He left behind him a legacy of beauty which has given me much pleasure over the years. Sometimes it makes me sad to think of him and the way he suffered before his death. He left me with many happy memories however which cause me to smile when I think of them.
I suppose you could say he had a permanence about him much like the rocks he worked with. He not only left me with the rock walls and the many memories but of his own volition he planted two grape vines in my vineyard. He thought they would be seedless or almost so. He did not live to see the results of his planting. I wish he could know that they turned out to be really delicious and make a wonderful jelly with a wine like taste.
He was one of a kind like the rocks he worked with and he had the solidness of a rock to match his personality. Is it any wonder that I like rocks.?
Beyond this wall, and at eye level is a huge table rock. It is about 5 feet across and around one foot high. It was here when we first came here and no one has seen fit to attempt to move it. That would be an impossible task and I think it is quite attractive as it is with flowers and shrubs near by.
At the front of my house where the walk way begins are two huge rocks, one on each side of the walk. Another case of huge rocks too big to move easily so they were slid over to mark the entrance. Right now they have been covered by the encroaching blue rug juniper planted there many years ago. For years I have had to be careful when parking in front so as not to open my car door and hit one of them. I must write a memo to myself to do some pruning down there.!
Some years ago I had a retired gentleman who helped me with chores around here. He had a creative streak and he suggested I allow him to make a rock wall in front of my house and use it for a boundary for flowers. It sounded good to me so I just gave him carte blanche with my blessings. He used rocks that are large and flat and laid in stacked rows. In between them he built steps so I could go up through the middle of them. At the west end of the wall it is as tall as I am as he designed it to follow the slanting lay of the land. I could not have asked for a nicer flower bed. This wall is like a natural outcropping and it pleases me more as years go by.
Since I was so happy with this creation of his he suggested building a similar wall in the curve of my road. That is what he did and each time I drive out of here I go between these big flat curved walls of rock. The inside curve has been damaged several times when big trucks come in for the first time and misjudge the space for their trucks. This has never happened to the outside curve. These walls blend into the landscape and are a natural setting for perennials.
I miss my friend as he was witty and intelligent and fun to work with. He left behind him a legacy of beauty which has given me much pleasure over the years. Sometimes it makes me sad to think of him and the way he suffered before his death. He left me with many happy memories however which cause me to smile when I think of them.
I suppose you could say he had a permanence about him much like the rocks he worked with. He not only left me with the rock walls and the many memories but of his own volition he planted two grape vines in my vineyard. He thought they would be seedless or almost so. He did not live to see the results of his planting. I wish he could know that they turned out to be really delicious and make a wonderful jelly with a wine like taste.
He was one of a kind like the rocks he worked with and he had the solidness of a rock to match his personality. Is it any wonder that I like rocks.?
Word Association
This morning I found myself in the fellowship hall having coffee (which I rarely do) and eating a doughnut (something else I rarely do) talking and laughing with a lady whom I rarely talk to.
I had asked her how things were going where she works (the Hall County Board of Education). She spoke of the furloughs that they are required to have this year after Christmas, which led to Christmas gifts and my sister playing a card game of Hand and Foot, to my sister not being able to drive anymore. She commented that some people never learn to drive. I told her that my mother was one of those and how it came about. My oldest sister who was around 17 was attempting to teach her how to drive way back in 1926. I am sure of the date as I was a baby at the time and I was asleep in the back seat of that black, ford, T model car.
As with most new drivers of that era, the gas pedal, clutch and brakes were all difficult concepts to store mentally and activate into their proper functions. Modern cars would have been much easier for my mother. As confusing what to do with her feet caused my mother to suddenly jam on the brakes. I was abruptly awakened in the back seat as I rolled onto the floor and landed on a bed of glass milk bottles. I did not suffer any permanent damage (as far as I know !!!!) but damage did occur as my father was not at all happy with my mother for this incident. He expressed his displeasure by not speaking to her for some days hence. This was discouragement enough for her and also I can image that he kept the car keys in his pocket after that.!!
The laughing with my friend and I came about when I told her that my father had presented my mother with a new car at Christmas !! My friend asked me how she could enjoy that since she did not drive
and I said, "she got to ride in the passenger seat".
It seems true that we tend to give gift to others which we would like to receive. I have to be mindful of that as I tend to want to share my jams and jellies and pickles each year !!
Others at our table had been in the same adult class which we had just left.and We were discussing the conditions under which Joshua and the Israelites possessed the promised land. Someone offered the "eye for an eye" philosophy of the Old Testament. Which made me think that at that time of rugged living perhaps it was the best thing for them to have the rules that they followed. One comment was that "survival of the fittest" perhaps was an unspoken but applicable idea of that time. Someone else said "like the health plan now being considered". This was in reference to negative things being said in the press. Well, it is a good idea to be in charge of one's own health . I believe our government and the health insurance companies are promoting healthy lifestyles for all of us, and the earlier we start the better.
This beings me to a cartoon that came to me via an email. It showed a very old lady sitting in front of a birthday cake with numbered candles on it. The numbers were 101 and each was lit. The lady was bending over to light her cigar on the candles.
So, perhaps living healthy has its own rewards. When you live to a really ripe old age you are free to do whatever the heck you want to do !!!!!
I had asked her how things were going where she works (the Hall County Board of Education). She spoke of the furloughs that they are required to have this year after Christmas, which led to Christmas gifts and my sister playing a card game of Hand and Foot, to my sister not being able to drive anymore. She commented that some people never learn to drive. I told her that my mother was one of those and how it came about. My oldest sister who was around 17 was attempting to teach her how to drive way back in 1926. I am sure of the date as I was a baby at the time and I was asleep in the back seat of that black, ford, T model car.
As with most new drivers of that era, the gas pedal, clutch and brakes were all difficult concepts to store mentally and activate into their proper functions. Modern cars would have been much easier for my mother. As confusing what to do with her feet caused my mother to suddenly jam on the brakes. I was abruptly awakened in the back seat as I rolled onto the floor and landed on a bed of glass milk bottles. I did not suffer any permanent damage (as far as I know !!!!) but damage did occur as my father was not at all happy with my mother for this incident. He expressed his displeasure by not speaking to her for some days hence. This was discouragement enough for her and also I can image that he kept the car keys in his pocket after that.!!
The laughing with my friend and I came about when I told her that my father had presented my mother with a new car at Christmas !! My friend asked me how she could enjoy that since she did not drive
and I said, "she got to ride in the passenger seat".
It seems true that we tend to give gift to others which we would like to receive. I have to be mindful of that as I tend to want to share my jams and jellies and pickles each year !!
Others at our table had been in the same adult class which we had just left.and We were discussing the conditions under which Joshua and the Israelites possessed the promised land. Someone offered the "eye for an eye" philosophy of the Old Testament. Which made me think that at that time of rugged living perhaps it was the best thing for them to have the rules that they followed. One comment was that "survival of the fittest" perhaps was an unspoken but applicable idea of that time. Someone else said "like the health plan now being considered". This was in reference to negative things being said in the press. Well, it is a good idea to be in charge of one's own health . I believe our government and the health insurance companies are promoting healthy lifestyles for all of us, and the earlier we start the better.
This beings me to a cartoon that came to me via an email. It showed a very old lady sitting in front of a birthday cake with numbered candles on it. The numbers were 101 and each was lit. The lady was bending over to light her cigar on the candles.
So, perhaps living healthy has its own rewards. When you live to a really ripe old age you are free to do whatever the heck you want to do !!!!!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Dealing With It
This morning I had a recorded message from the county sheriff's office asking all to go outside and search their yards, cars, area for a missing woman who apparently was a victim of Alzheimer's disease. Later I read online about a 115 year old woman in California who had just died. One of our church members is a lady who has attained the age of 101. She comes to worship at special times only as it is a supreme effort for her to get dressed and make the trip. She is mentally alert and has lived longer than she wanted. She often says she does not know why the Lord is keeping her here. She lives with her daughter and son-in-law who both sing in our church choir. She feels she is a big burden for her daughter who has some health problems of her own.
Recently I heard a discussion at a gathering about the high cost of living in retirement homes. My own sister is living in such a retirement home. Her daughter calls it the "Taj" ( for Taj Mahal ) because it is a beautiful place. A friend of mine is in the process of looking for such a place to live and I think she has made her decision for a home which has assisted living benefits. I am well acquainted with this home as another friend lived there for several years.
The preferred solution for most older people is the status quo. However that is not always the best answer unless one is able to live alone in good health. Learning to play with the cards you are dealt is a wise endeavor or as I have heard someone say "get over it" or "deal with it", "make the best of it", "turn your lemons into lemonade", or just simply accept it. So much has to do with one's health and attitude toward life in general.
Being the person on the sidelines of a family in such a situation is not easy. Once a person has "passed" as they say in the south, an adjustment must be made by those close to that person. Dealing with a loss in the family is difficult at best. Knowing a lot about the person who has "passed" can help. With my own mother I knew her philosophy and also I knew that she was "ready" as her impaired vision had taken away her main joy, reading. She had the talking books service from the library however and that extended her interest in events . The fact that she just did not wake up one morning spared her from a long time of suffering. It helped to know that the day before she had danced through the house in a new red dress that her daughter had made for her. She was essentially a happy, joyful person who once told me that death was like slipping into a pair of comfortable old shoes.
When it is your life mate who is no longer there each day a completely different adjustment is called for and one must find his/her own best way of dealing with the loss. For me it was simply wearing his pajamas. They were pale blue and white stripe with a tie belt. I wore those for years then kept them in a drawer for much longer. Our church supported a "Clothes Box" for foreign missionaries to choose from when they returned to this country. That is where I took my husband's clothes. When I did decide to do that however, it had a negative physical result which sent me to my doctor for extensive tests. Some medications helped but a broken heart is not cured with medicines. Time and activity involving helping others is probably the best medicine. I was able to find that in providing transportation for families who were living at Villa International in Decatur, Ga. They had accompanied their husbands/fathers who were here studying at the Centers for Disease Control . Teaching a Sunday School class kept me occupied along with being the parent of two teens. Also I continued to take classes at Mercer U. in Atlanta which would update my teaching certificate from Maryland. That was a lot of being busy !!
In this day and time I can think rationally about such things. When one is in the middle of a crisis it is much different. That is when friends and family can "be there" for help. Often just being present in person can be comforting. I recall going across the street to thank a neighbor for something she had sent to me. Of course we were discussing the sudden change for me and my children. My husband and I had purchased a new home and had not even moved into it when we were plunged into this crisis. She had asked me how my children were doing. I spoke of their involvement in our church (the one my husband had chosen for us as he thought the children would like it ) and of their activities at their school. I was torn between going to my family in another state or staying in Atlanta. When she said to me "if your children are happy here I would not rock the boat". That one statement helped me to focus on my best plan of action, which was - do nothing. So when someone is trying to "deal" with a crisis your counsel can mean more than you could imagine. Just a few words may help someone make a critical decision which is plain to you but is hidden from the one who is in the middle of the storm.
Recently I heard a discussion at a gathering about the high cost of living in retirement homes. My own sister is living in such a retirement home. Her daughter calls it the "Taj" ( for Taj Mahal ) because it is a beautiful place. A friend of mine is in the process of looking for such a place to live and I think she has made her decision for a home which has assisted living benefits. I am well acquainted with this home as another friend lived there for several years.
The preferred solution for most older people is the status quo. However that is not always the best answer unless one is able to live alone in good health. Learning to play with the cards you are dealt is a wise endeavor or as I have heard someone say "get over it" or "deal with it", "make the best of it", "turn your lemons into lemonade", or just simply accept it. So much has to do with one's health and attitude toward life in general.
Being the person on the sidelines of a family in such a situation is not easy. Once a person has "passed" as they say in the south, an adjustment must be made by those close to that person. Dealing with a loss in the family is difficult at best. Knowing a lot about the person who has "passed" can help. With my own mother I knew her philosophy and also I knew that she was "ready" as her impaired vision had taken away her main joy, reading. She had the talking books service from the library however and that extended her interest in events . The fact that she just did not wake up one morning spared her from a long time of suffering. It helped to know that the day before she had danced through the house in a new red dress that her daughter had made for her. She was essentially a happy, joyful person who once told me that death was like slipping into a pair of comfortable old shoes.
When it is your life mate who is no longer there each day a completely different adjustment is called for and one must find his/her own best way of dealing with the loss. For me it was simply wearing his pajamas. They were pale blue and white stripe with a tie belt. I wore those for years then kept them in a drawer for much longer. Our church supported a "Clothes Box" for foreign missionaries to choose from when they returned to this country. That is where I took my husband's clothes. When I did decide to do that however, it had a negative physical result which sent me to my doctor for extensive tests. Some medications helped but a broken heart is not cured with medicines. Time and activity involving helping others is probably the best medicine. I was able to find that in providing transportation for families who were living at Villa International in Decatur, Ga. They had accompanied their husbands/fathers who were here studying at the Centers for Disease Control . Teaching a Sunday School class kept me occupied along with being the parent of two teens. Also I continued to take classes at Mercer U. in Atlanta which would update my teaching certificate from Maryland. That was a lot of being busy !!
In this day and time I can think rationally about such things. When one is in the middle of a crisis it is much different. That is when friends and family can "be there" for help. Often just being present in person can be comforting. I recall going across the street to thank a neighbor for something she had sent to me. Of course we were discussing the sudden change for me and my children. My husband and I had purchased a new home and had not even moved into it when we were plunged into this crisis. She had asked me how my children were doing. I spoke of their involvement in our church (the one my husband had chosen for us as he thought the children would like it ) and of their activities at their school. I was torn between going to my family in another state or staying in Atlanta. When she said to me "if your children are happy here I would not rock the boat". That one statement helped me to focus on my best plan of action, which was - do nothing. So when someone is trying to "deal" with a crisis your counsel can mean more than you could imagine. Just a few words may help someone make a critical decision which is plain to you but is hidden from the one who is in the middle of the storm.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Trying on New Hats
Yesterday I had a new and interesting experience. It all started in Abingdon, Va. and my brother who lives there. For many years he has been doing research on our ancestors, uncovering many interesting things about them and how they lived. He has become quite skilled at gleaning information from libraries and historical societies across the country. He has made friends with many historians and other distant family members who have added to his collections of family stories. I believe that interest is what led him to become an owner of a computer when he had disdained them before. Thankfully he did change his position on that issue and his computer has served him well in many different ways. He recently informed me that he was a member of the SAR (Sons of the American Revolution) and that if I so desired I too could qualify as a DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution). His interest in things of our past family ignited an interest in me and he counseled me as to how I would proceed.
As a consequence, I have gathered, with his help the proper qualifying papers, ordered the birth certificates, etc. and am ready for the next step. One of the first things I have done, after talking with the president of the local chapter, was to visit a regularly scheduled meeting of this group.
That took place yesterday at 2:00 p.m. at the First Presbyterian Church in Gainesville, Ga. When I found a seat at a table there before me was the order for the opening of the meeting. It is a ritual where we all read/respond to the leaders statements. Part of this was the pledge to the flag. Also on the table was a leaflet entitled "What the Constitution Means to You". On the back is a statement of The Citizen's Responsibility, taken from The National Republic and published by the National Society Daughters of the American Revolution.
The meeting took two hours in which many reports were given regarding what each committee head had done with her given responsibility. This gave me a good overview of what they were all about. They are about many things, all stemming from appreciation of the Constitution and educating others about our Constitution. They have a national magazine and one lady has the job and recruiting members to subscribe to it. Another has the job of distributing books to the schools which tell about our Constitution, another on furthering knowledge through various means, like having the mayor declare Constitution Week.
The speaker for the day was dressed in period costume and gave an overview of how the Constitution came to be starting with the Articles of Confederation back in the 1780's. It was really interesting and informative. I wish that she had passed out a copy of the talk as I wanted to read it again.
After two hours of hearing all of this I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. How could I fit into this group? What could I possibly bring to the table to become a valued member? Well, it had to sink in overnight and I had to give it some more thought. My first thought was that I could not keep up with this group of younger, energetic women and I began to think of my excuses. I was definitely having second thoughts. But things always look brighter after a night of sleep, so now I am thinking of ways I could be a viable part of the group.
Over the years I have worn many hats. My first was as a daughter and sister, then friend, student and later a wife. These hats were donned and removed making way for others such as teacher, mother, S.S. teacher, and even one I wore unwilling, a widow. As I began to have new experiences new hats were tried on, such as gardener, property owner, and now I may be wearing a new hat as a member of a group as old as our country. It should be interesting for sure. If they need an idea person, I already have some to offer but I may have to tread lightly as newcomers must do. I once read that just because someone comes up with a silly idea does not mean you have to fall in line behind them. That is a good thing to remember as some really outlandish ideas do come to the surface from time to time. Even from ME !!
One thing that does stand out in my mind re: the meeting yesterday was what one teacher had to offer. She had recently learned something about her great grandfather who was a minister in Macon, Ga. She had learned that in the 1830's when the Cherokee Indians in Georgia were forced on a long walk to Oklahoma for resettlement (the Trail of Tears) her grandfather went along to ensure that the Indians were not mistreated on the journey. She said she had not known much about her grandfather but that this story gave her much insight into his character.
I hope that more such stories will become known as I begin a journey with these dedicated ladies, and that I can earn the privilege of wearing yet another new hat.
As a consequence, I have gathered, with his help the proper qualifying papers, ordered the birth certificates, etc. and am ready for the next step. One of the first things I have done, after talking with the president of the local chapter, was to visit a regularly scheduled meeting of this group.
That took place yesterday at 2:00 p.m. at the First Presbyterian Church in Gainesville, Ga. When I found a seat at a table there before me was the order for the opening of the meeting. It is a ritual where we all read/respond to the leaders statements. Part of this was the pledge to the flag. Also on the table was a leaflet entitled "What the Constitution Means to You". On the back is a statement of The Citizen's Responsibility, taken from The National Republic and published by the National Society Daughters of the American Revolution.
The meeting took two hours in which many reports were given regarding what each committee head had done with her given responsibility. This gave me a good overview of what they were all about. They are about many things, all stemming from appreciation of the Constitution and educating others about our Constitution. They have a national magazine and one lady has the job and recruiting members to subscribe to it. Another has the job of distributing books to the schools which tell about our Constitution, another on furthering knowledge through various means, like having the mayor declare Constitution Week.
The speaker for the day was dressed in period costume and gave an overview of how the Constitution came to be starting with the Articles of Confederation back in the 1780's. It was really interesting and informative. I wish that she had passed out a copy of the talk as I wanted to read it again.
After two hours of hearing all of this I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. How could I fit into this group? What could I possibly bring to the table to become a valued member? Well, it had to sink in overnight and I had to give it some more thought. My first thought was that I could not keep up with this group of younger, energetic women and I began to think of my excuses. I was definitely having second thoughts. But things always look brighter after a night of sleep, so now I am thinking of ways I could be a viable part of the group.
Over the years I have worn many hats. My first was as a daughter and sister, then friend, student and later a wife. These hats were donned and removed making way for others such as teacher, mother, S.S. teacher, and even one I wore unwilling, a widow. As I began to have new experiences new hats were tried on, such as gardener, property owner, and now I may be wearing a new hat as a member of a group as old as our country. It should be interesting for sure. If they need an idea person, I already have some to offer but I may have to tread lightly as newcomers must do. I once read that just because someone comes up with a silly idea does not mean you have to fall in line behind them. That is a good thing to remember as some really outlandish ideas do come to the surface from time to time. Even from ME !!
One thing that does stand out in my mind re: the meeting yesterday was what one teacher had to offer. She had recently learned something about her great grandfather who was a minister in Macon, Ga. She had learned that in the 1830's when the Cherokee Indians in Georgia were forced on a long walk to Oklahoma for resettlement (the Trail of Tears) her grandfather went along to ensure that the Indians were not mistreated on the journey. She said she had not known much about her grandfather but that this story gave her much insight into his character.
I hope that more such stories will become known as I begin a journey with these dedicated ladies, and that I can earn the privilege of wearing yet another new hat.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Gardening
Yesterday was the day I had set aside to dig the bulbs for winterizing the calla lilies. I had no idea there were so many of them in the ground. I had not dug them them recently so I had forgotten just how many small ones were clinging to the sides of the main bulb. The more I dug the more I seemed to unearth. I finally went to the back of the house and carried a light weight chair around so I could rest in between the digging. My plan was to keep the bulbs separated as to color. Since some time had passed since I had seen the blooms in all their glory I did not do a good job of keeping them separated. What I should have done was consult the files in my computer where I had stored pictures of them in bloom. When it was all finished and I had washed the bulbs, dried them and temporarily stored them in a shed, I went to the computer to check out the color. Oh, how I wish I had done that earlier. Will I ever learn to "read the directions" before I start a project? Apparently not.
I do know that most of what I have dug are white and a smattering of them are yellow. The most beautiful of them all is a large yellow which turns red, first around the rim and then all the way down. That group of bulbs is hidden under a large Miss Huff lantana. So, when I dig them later in the fall I will know for sure what they are. I promised my doctor that I would bring a bulb to her for her garden she is making in memory of her favorite aunt. The one I want to take is this big yellow one.
Later in the day I was picking purple grapes in the vineyard and my thoughts went back to the digging of the bulbs. It was harder than I had expected. For some reason I began to think of the first home that my husband and I bought at Arnold, Maryland. As new homeowners we were clueless about boundaries and how important they are to property owners. We decided to put up a row of shrubs between our home and the adjacent property. The agent selling us the home had told us where the property line was so we felt confident as we proceeded with this project. Oh that we had investigated further !! It would have saved him a lot of back breaking work. With only a shovel to prepare the beds for this long row of shrubs, he worked his heart out making the holes for each one. After the job was all finished and we thought we were all set, my neighbor decided to have her property surveyed. Her suspicions were confirmed and we had indeed encroached upon her property. The idea of doing such a thing was no where in our minds. But, there was no question about it. The shrubs were over the line by about one foot. So another week-end was put aside to correct the situation.
I suppose what brought that episode to mind was that a little detective work ahead of a project can save problems down the road. It would have helped to know the exact colors of the calla lilies and it would have helped a LOT to know exactly where the property line was before doing all of that hard work.
I have learned a lot since then. One thing I have learned is how to tell if a tree is alive when the foliage is gone. For that first home we purchased a pink dogwood and planted it in front of our house. I noticed when we were transporting it that a certain brittle sound came from the branches touching each other. But being inexperienced I did not know that a very simple test before buying that tree would have saved us money and disappointment. For in the spring when all the other trees began to leaf out this pink dogwood did not. The Nursery where we bought it was no help at all. We had bought it and that was that. If only I had known to scratch the limbs on that tree I would have seen that they were brown under the bark and it was quite dead. So, again a preliminary investigation was in order but not carried out, so, an unhappy situation was not avoided.
My son told me recently that making mistakes was indeed one way of learning, but in my case I seem to be a slow learner in regard to proper preparation before taking on a new project. I think I have learned how to identify a dead tree however and I may have one now that could need to be replaced, or not, we shall see. A dwarf apple tree near my house began to show brown leaves long before it was scheduled to happen. I did scrape the bark and it was green underneath. I will wait and see how it fares next spring and if need be I will replace it but it is worth a wait to find out. And I have already decided to put out markers for the new calla lilies and if they need to be changed after the bloom time then that is easily accomplished. And hopefully I have learned that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
I do know that most of what I have dug are white and a smattering of them are yellow. The most beautiful of them all is a large yellow which turns red, first around the rim and then all the way down. That group of bulbs is hidden under a large Miss Huff lantana. So, when I dig them later in the fall I will know for sure what they are. I promised my doctor that I would bring a bulb to her for her garden she is making in memory of her favorite aunt. The one I want to take is this big yellow one.
Later in the day I was picking purple grapes in the vineyard and my thoughts went back to the digging of the bulbs. It was harder than I had expected. For some reason I began to think of the first home that my husband and I bought at Arnold, Maryland. As new homeowners we were clueless about boundaries and how important they are to property owners. We decided to put up a row of shrubs between our home and the adjacent property. The agent selling us the home had told us where the property line was so we felt confident as we proceeded with this project. Oh that we had investigated further !! It would have saved him a lot of back breaking work. With only a shovel to prepare the beds for this long row of shrubs, he worked his heart out making the holes for each one. After the job was all finished and we thought we were all set, my neighbor decided to have her property surveyed. Her suspicions were confirmed and we had indeed encroached upon her property. The idea of doing such a thing was no where in our minds. But, there was no question about it. The shrubs were over the line by about one foot. So another week-end was put aside to correct the situation.
I suppose what brought that episode to mind was that a little detective work ahead of a project can save problems down the road. It would have helped to know the exact colors of the calla lilies and it would have helped a LOT to know exactly where the property line was before doing all of that hard work.
I have learned a lot since then. One thing I have learned is how to tell if a tree is alive when the foliage is gone. For that first home we purchased a pink dogwood and planted it in front of our house. I noticed when we were transporting it that a certain brittle sound came from the branches touching each other. But being inexperienced I did not know that a very simple test before buying that tree would have saved us money and disappointment. For in the spring when all the other trees began to leaf out this pink dogwood did not. The Nursery where we bought it was no help at all. We had bought it and that was that. If only I had known to scratch the limbs on that tree I would have seen that they were brown under the bark and it was quite dead. So, again a preliminary investigation was in order but not carried out, so, an unhappy situation was not avoided.
My son told me recently that making mistakes was indeed one way of learning, but in my case I seem to be a slow learner in regard to proper preparation before taking on a new project. I think I have learned how to identify a dead tree however and I may have one now that could need to be replaced, or not, we shall see. A dwarf apple tree near my house began to show brown leaves long before it was scheduled to happen. I did scrape the bark and it was green underneath. I will wait and see how it fares next spring and if need be I will replace it but it is worth a wait to find out. And I have already decided to put out markers for the new calla lilies and if they need to be changed after the bloom time then that is easily accomplished. And hopefully I have learned that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Labor Day
If variety is the spice of life, then I lead a spicy life.
Labor Day was a great day of visiting with one side of my family. My son and his two sons came up for part of the day. We had lunch and afterwards Grant, the 13 year old, helped me make bird cakes. I had given him a book on back yard birding. He is already versed in the hobby as both his parents have nifty back yard set ups for the visiting birds. He knows the names and habits of many of our Georgia birds just from observing them in his home through the large windows by the dining table. Much conversation goes on about the birds at lunch time, etc.
Yesterday he asked me if I had an identification book on birds. I do have one for him but had planned to give it to him later. However, I did have another book for him on back yard birding which had instructions for making bird cakes. What we did yesterday afternoon was combine, suet, yellow cornmeal, crunchy peanut butter and currents . He helped me measure the correct amount of each ingredient, then donning vinyl gloves he mixed it all into a nice thick paste. Then cutting open a half gallon milk carton, we packed the paste into it and pressed it down. After a bit of time in the freezer it was hardened and could be cut into blocks. The blocks went into little cages to be hung from trees or some sort of post where the birds can find them. This particular bird cake attracts, blue jays, woodpeckers, nuthatches and chickadees.
After a bit of television ,watching golf and tennis we three headed up to the vineyard in the golf cart. The grapes are getting ripe in the vineyard and it was a lot of fun for me to escort them through the rows of Higgins, bronze, dark purple and other types of grapes. Of course we had to pick some of each kind and drop them into a basket brought along for the occasion. I had set aside two vines for making the muscadine jelly and also was saving one vine for a lady who always likes to just come and pick a few to eat. The bulk of the grapes are promised to a gentleman in a nearby community. He likes to make wine from them and when his business permits he will be back to pick for that purpose.
My son had not seen a new house in our neighborhood so we drove down the paved road in that direction.The road goes down to a park which was closed to the public about eight years ago. It is not paved all the way down so we had to navigate some deep ruts toward the end of the road. Labor Day visitors to the lake were partying in the private cove nearby. Weeds had overgrown what was once a nice sandy beach. New homes have changed the landscape. The house we drove down to see had replaced a home moved to that spot when the lake was first formed in 1957. That home had started as a modest dwelling and over the years rooms had been added on and even an indoor swimming pool. All of that is gone now and has been replaced by a modern, well landscaped lake house. This had been a nice side jaunt not planned for but enjoyed.
When we returned to the house we washed the grapes and included some of them in an afternoon snack. Missing all of this was my 17 year old grandson. He was wiped out from all of his activities at home, church ,and school. He is nearing the end of an impressive Eagle Scout project which has taken a long time in the planning and execution. Having been up early on Sunday to play the cello in the church orchestra for their early morning service after a Saturday of finishing a long fence at this same church, he was pretty tired. He and his father will both be happy to see the completion of this scout project. He got a pass from all of us for we knew he needed some extra sleep.
This Labor day will be long remembered for what it was and what it was not. My 17 year old missed a trip down the Oconee with his friend and his family as he had to work on the scout project. He hated to miss that trip, but responsibility assumed is honor bound to complete. Hopefully there will be other opportunities for him to enjoy the Oconee river. Probably not next Labor Day as he will be off to college and no doubt be involved in orientation activities. I will surely miss his presence at these family gatherings but realizing it is the natural order of things for the birds to leave the nest at the appropriate time, I will savor the times when I CAN have
him with us whatever the occasion.
Labor Day was a great day of visiting with one side of my family. My son and his two sons came up for part of the day. We had lunch and afterwards Grant, the 13 year old, helped me make bird cakes. I had given him a book on back yard birding. He is already versed in the hobby as both his parents have nifty back yard set ups for the visiting birds. He knows the names and habits of many of our Georgia birds just from observing them in his home through the large windows by the dining table. Much conversation goes on about the birds at lunch time, etc.
Yesterday he asked me if I had an identification book on birds. I do have one for him but had planned to give it to him later. However, I did have another book for him on back yard birding which had instructions for making bird cakes. What we did yesterday afternoon was combine, suet, yellow cornmeal, crunchy peanut butter and currents . He helped me measure the correct amount of each ingredient, then donning vinyl gloves he mixed it all into a nice thick paste. Then cutting open a half gallon milk carton, we packed the paste into it and pressed it down. After a bit of time in the freezer it was hardened and could be cut into blocks. The blocks went into little cages to be hung from trees or some sort of post where the birds can find them. This particular bird cake attracts, blue jays, woodpeckers, nuthatches and chickadees.
After a bit of television ,watching golf and tennis we three headed up to the vineyard in the golf cart. The grapes are getting ripe in the vineyard and it was a lot of fun for me to escort them through the rows of Higgins, bronze, dark purple and other types of grapes. Of course we had to pick some of each kind and drop them into a basket brought along for the occasion. I had set aside two vines for making the muscadine jelly and also was saving one vine for a lady who always likes to just come and pick a few to eat. The bulk of the grapes are promised to a gentleman in a nearby community. He likes to make wine from them and when his business permits he will be back to pick for that purpose.
My son had not seen a new house in our neighborhood so we drove down the paved road in that direction.The road goes down to a park which was closed to the public about eight years ago. It is not paved all the way down so we had to navigate some deep ruts toward the end of the road. Labor Day visitors to the lake were partying in the private cove nearby. Weeds had overgrown what was once a nice sandy beach. New homes have changed the landscape. The house we drove down to see had replaced a home moved to that spot when the lake was first formed in 1957. That home had started as a modest dwelling and over the years rooms had been added on and even an indoor swimming pool. All of that is gone now and has been replaced by a modern, well landscaped lake house. This had been a nice side jaunt not planned for but enjoyed.
When we returned to the house we washed the grapes and included some of them in an afternoon snack. Missing all of this was my 17 year old grandson. He was wiped out from all of his activities at home, church ,and school. He is nearing the end of an impressive Eagle Scout project which has taken a long time in the planning and execution. Having been up early on Sunday to play the cello in the church orchestra for their early morning service after a Saturday of finishing a long fence at this same church, he was pretty tired. He and his father will both be happy to see the completion of this scout project. He got a pass from all of us for we knew he needed some extra sleep.
This Labor day will be long remembered for what it was and what it was not. My 17 year old missed a trip down the Oconee with his friend and his family as he had to work on the scout project. He hated to miss that trip, but responsibility assumed is honor bound to complete. Hopefully there will be other opportunities for him to enjoy the Oconee river. Probably not next Labor Day as he will be off to college and no doubt be involved in orientation activities. I will surely miss his presence at these family gatherings but realizing it is the natural order of things for the birds to leave the nest at the appropriate time, I will savor the times when I CAN have
him with us whatever the occasion.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Unintended Consequences
We hear a lot in this day and time of something our government has done which later has unintended consequences. In other words it may not have been carefully thought out, or the bugs have not been worked out. It was meant well but did not turn out that way. Sometimes these problems can be made right again. But it is not always that way in real life.
This mornng I had a letter I wanted to leave in my mail box for the carrier to pick up and mail for me. I hopped into my golf cart and headed out for my destination. As I approched the curve in my road I took a quick glance toward my garden to assure myself that the garden gate was closed. Alas I did not slow down or stop but kept on going. It was a momentary glance and I have glanced off before to take a peek at something in the landscape. This time as I rounded the corner I heard a noise and stopped. I thought I had slung something off my cart as I went round the curve. When I looked back I saw a beautiful turtle. Still not realizing what had happened I walked back and saw he looked okay so I thought I had just glanced him with my wheel. I picked him up and his eyes looked odd. I turned him over and my heart sank. I saw what should have been inside his shell was on the outside. I stood there looking at this poor creature and knew that there was no hope for him. So, what to do. Sadly I walked to the edge of the woods and sent him down the hill. What else could I do? No vet could bring him back to life. Never would I have ever harmed this beautiful lumbering creature. I was talking to myself and lamenting the fact that I had taken my eyes off of the road for that fleeting moment when I would have seen him if I had not looked aside.
When I returned to the house I had to know exactly what kind of turtle he/she was. With a little research I learned he was an Eastern Box Turtle (Terrapene carolina). The site had an email address where you could write to a person who is a naturalist and admirer of Steve Irwin. I felt compelled to tell someone about this terrible accident, so out of guilt I did send a letter to this person. After sending it out I searched more on the site and learned that the person was a young man who appeared to be a teen ager. He had various pictures of his Mom and himself and others holding rattlesnakes, other strange snakes and small alligators. He had a note to other viewers saying to not send pictures of snakes which had been killed in various ways. So, I really felt sorry that I had even written to him. I doubt he could feel as much regret and pain as I did over this incident.
I kept thinking of the people who had caused the death of another person because of some fleeting error in judgement while driving. What a heavy burden to bear. It is bad enough to know you have killed an innocent turtle making his way toward the woods. At times it is really hard to forgive yourself. Why am I so remorseful over this yet if a red headed wasp gets into my house I go after him with a swatter without any qualms whatever.
Hopefully this will be a lesson learned. I will not take my eyes off the road when in my car or in my golf cart. What I keep thinking about is that about three weeks ago I was in my car going to that very curve and I saw this colorful creature in the road. I stopped the car, got out and picked him up and carried him across the gravel road to safety. My daughter once told me that she remembered her father doing that same thing, rescuing a little turtle who was midway in the road where he was in grave danger. There is so much interesting wild life here on this place. Some of the creatures are not very nice and eat all of my vegetables if left uncontrolled. Why am I not disturbed about their demise. Perhaps because I have not actually seen them in such a state. Whatever the reason it was a somber start for this labor day week-end.
This mornng I had a letter I wanted to leave in my mail box for the carrier to pick up and mail for me. I hopped into my golf cart and headed out for my destination. As I approched the curve in my road I took a quick glance toward my garden to assure myself that the garden gate was closed. Alas I did not slow down or stop but kept on going. It was a momentary glance and I have glanced off before to take a peek at something in the landscape. This time as I rounded the corner I heard a noise and stopped. I thought I had slung something off my cart as I went round the curve. When I looked back I saw a beautiful turtle. Still not realizing what had happened I walked back and saw he looked okay so I thought I had just glanced him with my wheel. I picked him up and his eyes looked odd. I turned him over and my heart sank. I saw what should have been inside his shell was on the outside. I stood there looking at this poor creature and knew that there was no hope for him. So, what to do. Sadly I walked to the edge of the woods and sent him down the hill. What else could I do? No vet could bring him back to life. Never would I have ever harmed this beautiful lumbering creature. I was talking to myself and lamenting the fact that I had taken my eyes off of the road for that fleeting moment when I would have seen him if I had not looked aside.
When I returned to the house I had to know exactly what kind of turtle he/she was. With a little research I learned he was an Eastern Box Turtle (Terrapene carolina). The site had an email address where you could write to a person who is a naturalist and admirer of Steve Irwin. I felt compelled to tell someone about this terrible accident, so out of guilt I did send a letter to this person. After sending it out I searched more on the site and learned that the person was a young man who appeared to be a teen ager. He had various pictures of his Mom and himself and others holding rattlesnakes, other strange snakes and small alligators. He had a note to other viewers saying to not send pictures of snakes which had been killed in various ways. So, I really felt sorry that I had even written to him. I doubt he could feel as much regret and pain as I did over this incident.
I kept thinking of the people who had caused the death of another person because of some fleeting error in judgement while driving. What a heavy burden to bear. It is bad enough to know you have killed an innocent turtle making his way toward the woods. At times it is really hard to forgive yourself. Why am I so remorseful over this yet if a red headed wasp gets into my house I go after him with a swatter without any qualms whatever.
Hopefully this will be a lesson learned. I will not take my eyes off the road when in my car or in my golf cart. What I keep thinking about is that about three weeks ago I was in my car going to that very curve and I saw this colorful creature in the road. I stopped the car, got out and picked him up and carried him across the gravel road to safety. My daughter once told me that she remembered her father doing that same thing, rescuing a little turtle who was midway in the road where he was in grave danger. There is so much interesting wild life here on this place. Some of the creatures are not very nice and eat all of my vegetables if left uncontrolled. Why am I not disturbed about their demise. Perhaps because I have not actually seen them in such a state. Whatever the reason it was a somber start for this labor day week-end.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Two Wrongs
A lot of mistakes I make are because I do not follow the directions carefully. Some of those mistakes carry minor consequences and I can live with them. Others that are major consequences are not as common nor easily recognized. I am not thinking of those today, rather more recent ones which leave me angry with myself since I am the only one affected.
The jelly I made yesterday was a fiasco from the start. Today I realized how bad it all was when I opened a jar of the jelly. Normally I do not open the jars until needed but I had a sinking feeling about the results. It was even worse than I had thought !! The jelly was so stiff it was like frozen molasses. I could not get it out of the jars. I hate to lose the jars but I may just have to pitch them all out and buy new ones. A lesson learned.
Now, the basket I finished yesterday will not be thrown out but kept as a reminder to READ THE DIRECTIONS carefully, refer to them as I work, recheck my work. Baskets are to be used and have been since time began when Eve needed something to carry her apples in. So this one will be used and if I can disguise the lopsided way it sits I will do that.
The problem with the basket began when I cut the primary ribs This is a potato basket and not the just weave it type basket. There are three times in the weaving when you stop and cut new ribs. Not getting the first ones the right size for the rim will throw the whole design off and it certainly did this time. Many years ago my sister and I both made this same basket from the same instructions in the same book. The writing on the flyleaf states that it was a Christmas gift in 1986 from my daughter. So, I know I CAN do it correctly and I WILL the next time.
I do not see how anyone can go through life without making mistakes. My mind tells me this but at the same time my mind tells me that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I am much more tolerant of mistakes that others make. I can easily say, we learn from our mistakes. Jean Piaget the swiss psychologist knew this when he came up with his cognitive theory of learning. He studied children and came to understand that their little minds were working away at figuring out how things were to be done by experiencing them.
Well, I have experienced what happens when I do something wrong and hopefully will not repeat the wrong and thus be happy with my results. That is a much better feeling !!
The jelly I made yesterday was a fiasco from the start. Today I realized how bad it all was when I opened a jar of the jelly. Normally I do not open the jars until needed but I had a sinking feeling about the results. It was even worse than I had thought !! The jelly was so stiff it was like frozen molasses. I could not get it out of the jars. I hate to lose the jars but I may just have to pitch them all out and buy new ones. A lesson learned.
Now, the basket I finished yesterday will not be thrown out but kept as a reminder to READ THE DIRECTIONS carefully, refer to them as I work, recheck my work. Baskets are to be used and have been since time began when Eve needed something to carry her apples in. So this one will be used and if I can disguise the lopsided way it sits I will do that.
The problem with the basket began when I cut the primary ribs This is a potato basket and not the just weave it type basket. There are three times in the weaving when you stop and cut new ribs. Not getting the first ones the right size for the rim will throw the whole design off and it certainly did this time. Many years ago my sister and I both made this same basket from the same instructions in the same book. The writing on the flyleaf states that it was a Christmas gift in 1986 from my daughter. So, I know I CAN do it correctly and I WILL the next time.
I do not see how anyone can go through life without making mistakes. My mind tells me this but at the same time my mind tells me that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I am much more tolerant of mistakes that others make. I can easily say, we learn from our mistakes. Jean Piaget the swiss psychologist knew this when he came up with his cognitive theory of learning. He studied children and came to understand that their little minds were working away at figuring out how things were to be done by experiencing them.
Well, I have experienced what happens when I do something wrong and hopefully will not repeat the wrong and thus be happy with my results. That is a much better feeling !!
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