Author Archives: karengbruce4321

SARAH

“Watcha lookin’ at?”

Sarah adjusted the binoculars as she zoomed in on the house across the river. She could hear the sound of thunder in the distance, warning them of the impending storm that was predicted earlier on the news.

Her sister, Millie, leaned in behind her, peering over her shoulder. Sarah could smell the potato chips that her sister had been munching on while she watched television. Millie loved potato chips, especially the barbecue flavor ones in a can. There were stacks of them in the pantry.

 “Just the old Moore place. Could you step back a little bit and quit breathing on me?”

Millie had no concept of personal space. Sometimes Sarah would hide in the old farmhouse they lived in just to get away from her. She moved back to her family’s homeplace a few months before, not because she wanted to but because she had to. Her husband of 30 years had died and left her with nothing. His gambling addiction, that she knew nothing about, had taken every bit of savings they had. She had to sell their beautiful home just to pay off the rest of Ray’s credit card debt.

She couldn’t help but be bitter. She had felt duped and humiliated when she found out about Ray’s secret life of gambling, and yes, even prostitutes. Millie had graciously offered for Sarah to move in with her and instead of being thankful, Sarah was more annoyed than anything. She shouldn’t have to depend on her sister. She missed her own home, that was in the city and not on some old farm away from everything convenient.

Millie had survived two husbands and declared that she was done with marriage. She had had two great loves in her life, and she would never find another man to replace them. She was content and never wanted to leave the house where she grew up. Millie had been excited when Sarah had moved in, having all kinds of projects and events for them to share and do. All Sarah wanted to do was wallow in her grief and lament on the injustices her dead husband had enforced upon her.

The cabinet that contained Millie’s collection of old bells rattled. “Lawsy! It’s getting closer!” Millie walked over to the window that overlooked the back of the house and the mountains. “The trees look like they might snap!”

Sarah was about to give up her surveillance when she saw it again. There was a light in the old house across the river, which was highly unusual since it had been vacant for 20 years or more. It looked like it might have been a flashlight. “Someone’s in the house. I think I saw a flashlight.”

Millie gasped and looked at her. “What? In this house? Where?!”

Sarah shook her head. “No! The old Moore place!”

Millie looked skeptical. “Oh, I’m sure it was just lightening or something. Nobody is in that old place but a rat or 20 and they sure don’t need flashlights.” Millie chuckled at her own joke.

“It sure looked like a flashlight.”

Millie walked up to Sarah and held out her hand. After peering through the binoculars, she said, “Well, I don’t see a thing.” She handed the binoculars back and walked into the living room, where WCYB, the local channel, was on. Millie’s favorite weatherman, Dave Dierks, was standing in front of the weather map. “Let’s see what old Dave has to say about the storm.” She plopped into her chair and grabbed her puzzle book and pen. “Looks like it’s passing over us and will be gone soon.”

Sarah, still intent on the goings-on across the river, half listened to her sister’s assumption. She remembered another time when she was always looking across the river. Her high school crush, Brian Moore, lived in that house, and she was always spying on him. Sometimes, when the wind was blowing in just the right direction, you could hear people talking or even yelling. Brian’s dad was a drunkard and when he had been in his cups, he would yell at anything that moved. They’d all heard rumors about how he beat his wife and son. Sarah had even seen Brian with a black eye once that looked very suspicious, especially since it had happened after a night of excessive shouting.

Brian was a little on the quiet side. They had always been friends, but when they were in the ninth grade, one day on the bus, Brian took her hand and held it. No one had ever held her hand before. From then on, they were boyfriend and girlfriend. In the summer, they were always in the river playing or walking in the woods. They would hunt for animal bones, arrowheads, or caves.

Brian didn’t talk about his family much, but she could tell he worried about his mother. She hardly ever came out of the house. Brian’s dad bought all the groceries or anything else they might need. Sometimes, Sarah would see her rocking on the porch but only if her husband was at work. She would run back inside when she saw him driving home.

It was the summer after their junior year in high school that things went crazy. Mrs. Moore disappeared one day and never came back. Brian was devastated and hurt that his mom would actually leave him with his father. He stayed away from home as much as he could, often camping out or staying with friends. Sarah tried to be there for him and help him through his grief, but Brian would close himself off instead. She heard he was hanging out with the wrong crowds and doing drugs. Eventually he went to prison for robbery and drug-related offenses. Brian’s dad died not long after that. He got so drunk that he fell into the river and drowned one night.

When the rain began subsiding, Sarah grabbed her purse and raincoat. “I’m going over to check on the house.”

Millie jumped up and ran to the kitchen door. “You’re going over there now? It’s almost dark!”

Undeterred, Sarah grabbed her car keys. “I know. That’s why I’m leaving now. I’ll be right back.”

Millie grabbed her coat too. “Not without me. I’m going with you.”

“Suit yourself.”

They had to drive all the way down to the beginning of their road and cross the bridge over the river. As they approached the old Moore place, they could see the lights on in their farmhouse. It looked a little eerie at dusk when the sunlight was fading.

Sarah pulled into the washed-out driveway, careful not to let the overgrown bushes scratch her car. They both got out and walked up to the dilapidated porch overrun with honeysuckle vines. The old screen door was hanging by one hinge and the wooden door had huge peelings of old paint curled up all over it. Sarah turned the knob and the door swung open, slowly with a creepy noise that reminded them both of an old scary movie. Sarah peeked inside but kept her feet firmly on the porch floor. “Hello. Anybody here?”

Millie peeked in the living room window. “There’s a big stain on the carpet.”

“Wonder what that could be?” Sarah walked to the edge of the porch and looked down at the side of the house.

Millie said, “Maybe a bear came in and peed on the rug.”

Sarah walked back and peered in the window, rolling her eyes. “A bear? Really?” Sometimes Sarah wondered if her sister was all there.

“Well, it had to be something big because that’s a huge stain.”

“You think a bear is going to walk in the house, pee on the rug, and then walk out, closing the door behind him?”

“I’m just speculating.”  Wiping a spider web from her hand she asked, “Did you bring a flashlight?”

Sarah shook her head. “No. I was in a hurry and forgot. I’ll come back tomorrow when it’s light outside and see what it is. It may just be a leak from the ceiling.”

Millie nodded. “Yeah. Maybe that’s what it is,” but she didn’t seem too convinced. Millie walked towards the car. “I know one thing. I’m not going into that house when it’s dark inside. That place gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Sarah followed. “Me neither.”

That night, Sarah lay in her bed wondering what, if anything, was going on at that house. She was remembering when there was a rumor going around that Mr. Moore killed and buried Mrs. Moore somewhere in the woods but nobody could prove it. He claimed she left a note and ran off with another man. Sarah’s mom told them not to worry about rumors. People just speculated because they had nothing better to do. Sarah’s dad said it wasn’t their business. He never had time to worry about anyone else, including his own family. He worked on their farm, from sunup to sundown.

The next day after breakfast, when the sun was shining brightly, they both went back to the old house across the river. Things seemed less spooky in the light of day, but they were still a little nervous. This time they both walked into the house. Being vacant for so many years, they were a little surprised that it wasn’t as bad as they thought it would be inside. The carpet wasn’t that terrible except for the big stain in the living room. Sarah looked up but didn’t see any wet place in the ceiling. 

Millie bent down, looking closely. She grimaced. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was blood.”

Sarah stood behind her. “Surely not.” 

Millie shivered, even though it was already warm and muggy outside. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s still a little wet.” 

Before Sarah could respond, they both heard a noise coming from the back of the house. They both jumped, startled and frightened. Sarah looked at her sister with wide eyes. She bravely turned towards the noise. “Who’s there?”

Millie whispered, “Sweet Jesus in heaven, let’s go!”

Sarah shook her head, trying to be brave. “I’m sure it was just an animal or something.” She slowly tiptoed down the short hallway towards the kitchen, Millie right behind her. This room wasn’t as neat as the living room. There were holes in the walls and ceilings, insulation littering the floor and counters. Mice droppings were everywhere. A rotten smell encompassed the room, causing them both to cover their noses.

“Phew! What is that smell?” Millie covered her mouth, gagging.

 Sarah wasn’t surprised because her sister had always had a weak stomach. When they were little, Sarah would have laughed at her, but she wasn’t laughing now. The smell was horrendous. “Something has obviously died in here. It’s probably a mouse or a squirrel.”

Millie shook her head. “That’s no mouse or squirrel, definitely something bigger.” She turned to leave, placing her hand over her mouth. “I’m gettin’ out of here before I lose my breakfast.”

Sarah nodded. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Once Millie was gone, Sarah walked carefully through the kitchen, towards the back door. She opened it slowly, peeking out. What was left of the porch floor was rotten and had weeds growing up through it. Before she could turn back and leave, someone grabbed her, clamping their hand across her mouth, stifling her scream. Struggling mightily, Sarah tried to free herself but to no avail. They were much stronger than her. Once she finally stopped trying to fight, she was pushed towards the hallway.

“I suggest you leave and never come back here again.”

Sarah, scared and shaken, took a step and then stopped in her tracks. She knew that voice. It had been years, but she knew him. Turning around she whispered, “Brian?”

He was filthy and had a scraggly beard that hid most of his face. His clothes were dirty and had stains all over them. She placed her hand up to her mouth in shock.

Brian closed his eyes and sighed. 

Sarah, suddenly not afraid but curious, walked back towards him. “Brian! What are you doing?”

Brian just shook his head. “You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”

Sarah couldn’t believe it. Her old boyfriend, dressed like some kind of hobo, was living in his old house like a criminal or something worse. “I don’t understand.”

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You don’t have to understand. All you have to do is leave here and never come back. Forget you ever saw me.”

Recalling the special closeness she once felt for her childhood friend and sweetheart, Sarah shook her head. “Brian, please let me help you. You’ve obviously fallen on tough times. Just tell me how and I’ll help you any way I can.”

Brian growled in vexation. He spoke to Sarah as if she were a deranged person. “There’s nothing you can do. Just leave before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“Go!” 

“What is that stain in the living room? Is that blood?”

Instead of answering, Brian scowled and shook his head in frustration. He took a gun out of the waist of his pants and directed it at Sarah. “Brian’s gone, Sarah.”

“If Brian’s gone, how do you know my name?”

Sarah listened to the click of the gun but knew Brian wouldn’t shoot her. “It’s okay Brian. I won’t tell anyone you’re here. Please let me help.”

As she smiled at her childhood sweetheart, she heard a sharp, popping sound and then an intense shockwave permeating throughout her whole body. Sarah realized in that moment that Brian did not shoot her, but someone had shot him, right between the eyes! As he fell to the ground, she whirled around and saw Millie holding a smoking pistol.

Sarah, ears ringing, whispered, “What have you done?”

“TCB.”

Sarah, dumbfounded, could not speak, could not fathom how her sister could just shoot someone like that.

Millie clarified, “Taking care of business,” as if Sarah didn’t understand the acronym.

Sarah finally found her voice. “But he wasn’t going to shoot me! He just wanted me to leave!”

“I was born at night little sister, but it wasn’t last night. He had that gun pointed right at you.”

Sarah closed her eyes. “Millie! You just can’t go around shooting people! What will the police say?”

“They ain’t gonna say nothin’ because they won’t know nothin’.” Millie put her gun in her purse and turned to leave. “I gotta go home and get a shovel and then we’ll bury him out back.”

After Millie left, Sarah looked back at Brian’s body, which lay crumbled on the dirty kitchen floor. She knelt down and felt for a pulse in his neck, hoping that he was still alive. His eyes were open but vacant. He was definitely dead. Deader than four o’clock, as her granny used to say. Deader than a doorknob as her daddy used to say. Deader than…Sarah stopped herself. She was on the verge of hysterics, and a giggle almost escaped her mouth. What was wrong with her?

She took Brian’s hand, which was dirty and rough. “I’m so sorry Brian. I know you wouldn’t have shot me. Millie was just trying to protect me.”

Millie finally returned, shovel in hand. “He was obviously up to no good. Quit moping and help me drag him out back.” She put the shovel up against the wall and turned to grab his two feet. “Dave says there’s going to be another thunderstorm this evening so times a-wastin’. Ground should be fairly soft from yesterday’s rain.”

Sarah couldn’t believe that Millie could act so calm and matter of fact after shooting and killing someone. She had always been so sweet and kind, not a mean bone in her body. Instead of trying to talk her sister into calling the police like her conscience screamed, Sarah obeyed Millie and helped drag Brian to the backyard.

They both took turns shoveling dirt until they had a hole big enough to accommodate Brian’s body. Sarah turned her head as Millie pushed him in. By the time they had covered him with dirt, they were both exhausted and filthy.

Sarah felt numb as Millie drove them home. She stared out the car window, letting the warm breeze wash over her, as if cleansing her from what she had witnessed and participated in. She couldn’t wait to take a shower, to rid herself of the dirt that covered her clothes and body. Sarah just wanted to be clean, as if that would make her feel better and absolved from her sin.

The next couple of days, Sarah watched the house across the river to see if anyone would find Brian’s body. Millie fussed at her and told her to stop obsessing over it. Nobody was going to find him because nobody even knew he was there.

Sarah took out her phone and began googling his name. She found a short blurb that reported Brian was wanted for questioning in the disappearance of his wife. Sarah thought of the huge stain on the living room carpet. Had he killed her? Was the smell in the kitchen coming from her dead body? If so, where was she? She wanted answers but speaking up could only draw attention to themselves and they could find themselves in prison for what they had done.

Sarah also began wondering about the sanity of her sister. Millie was acting so strangely; calm and collected one minute and irritated the next. She was frustrated because Sarah wouldn’t forget about the entire incident, as if she could.

Sarah began watching her sister as much as she was watching the house across the river. She thought about Millie’s two husbands that had died. Gene had fallen off his tractor, dying instantly. She said Larry had suffered with stomach issues for years and finally succumbed to them. They seemed happy enough, although Sarah admittedly hadn’t been around them all that much. How does someone fall off of a tractor and then then get run over by it? Sarah never thought much about it until now.

One evening as they were watching Jeopardy, Sarah asked Millie, “What happened to Gene, Millie?”

Millie had been working on her Find-A-Word puzzle book and laid it down. “What do you mean what happened? He fell off his tractor while cutting the hay in the fields. I told you that.”

Sarah nodded. “Yes, but how did the tractor run over him?”

Millie shook her head. “Well, he was drunk. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think bad about him. He was a good man, but moonshine made him mean and reckless. I told him not to get on that tractor, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He must have just slid off, and the back tractor tire ran clean over him.”

Sarah grimaced. She had never heard that Gene drank or that he was mean and reckless. Millie had always talked about both her husbands as though they were the best of men, unlike her and her rantings about Ray and his surprise nefarious addictions that had left her with nothing.

“Were the police surprised?”

Millie laughed. “Not a bit when they smelled liquor all over him, or what was left of him.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, and then she said, “Was he ever mean to you, Millie?”

Millie was quiet for a moment. “He hit me once and I told him if he ever did it again, he’d be sorry.”

Sarah’s heart dropped. Was he sorry? Is that why he died? Sarah didn’t even want to think about it but couldn’t stop herself. Sarah had seen enough true crime shows to know that the most ordinary people snap and kill their spouses for one reason or another, but most of those reasons were for money.

“Did Gene have any life insurance?” Millie was very frugal in her spending, but she always had money for whatever she needed.

Millie stood up. “The funny thing is, Gene had taken out a hefty life insurance policy about six months before he died. I’m going to get me a Coke. You want one?”

Sarah shook her head in shock, not able to utter any words. To have her sister talk so indifferent about her husband that she claimed to love and who died in a terrible accident was very baffling.

Sarah was exhausted and decided to go to bed early that night. She slept in her grandmother’s old bed, the one she had died in. It had never bothered her before, but since Millie had killed Brian, she was a nervous wreck. Every noise made the hairs on her arms stand up straight. She finally got up, exhausted from all the tossing and turning.

Sarah decided that warm milk might calm her nerves, so she tiptoed down the stairs, being especially quiet when she passed Millie’s bedroom at the bottom of the steps. Every time a floorboard creaked, her heart raced. Realizing she was being silly, Sarah took a deep breath and walked normally.

After she put her glass of milk in the microwave, Sarah stood at the kitchen sink, contemplating her sister’s actions. Could her sister really have killed her husband? Sarah would never have thought that before but seeing her sister shoot Brian and acting so calmly about it, her gut feeling was telling, no screaming at her that Yes! Millie could have definitely killed her husband.

After the milk was warm, Sarah took it out of the microwave and turned to go back to her room. Millie was standing at the door of the kitchen, startling Sarah, causing her to spill milk on the old wood floors.

Millie chuckled. “Don’t worry about a little spilled milk, Sarah.” She chuckled again. “Or is it don’t cry over a little spilled milk?” She sighed loudly. “Whatever has happened has happened dear and nothing can change it. Right?”

Shaking in her gown, Sarah could only stare at her sister.

Millie began walking through the house back to her bedroom and Sarah followed. They both stopped at Millie’s bedroom door and then Sarah began slowly walking up the steps, stopping when she heard Millie speak. “I will always take care of you, Sarah. You never have to worry about a thing.”

Sarah nodded, scared to say anything. Once she was in her bed, her thoughts were racing. Millie had killed Brian. How many other people had she murdered? Both of her husbands? What could she do? What should she do? She loved her sister and knew Millie loved her. But this was crazy, an absolute nightmare. She couldn’t just ignore it. Millie could be a serial killer! What if Sara was next on the list? Millie had to be stopped.

MILLIE’S DIARY

I usually don’t have any problems sleeping except for now, not after seeing that knowing look in Sarah’s eyes. Things had been going so perfectly too. Having my sister back in the homeplace has been wonderful. Oh, I know that Sarah isn’t as happy as I’ve been. She can’t get over the fact that her dumb husband was a gambler and had a dirty, nasty habit.

People die, like Brian’s dad, for example. He was a drunk. Everyone knew that. He was an accident just waiting to happen. Pushing him into the river didn’t take much effort because he could barely even stand up. Getting him down to the river was a little harder. I had told him to leave my sweet mama alone and since my daddy wouldn’t do anything about it, I took care of it. Nobody missed him and nobody cared that he died. Well, nobody except for Officer Hicks. He knew things didn’t add up but, in the end, he gave up. There was no proof. What could he do? Nothing, that’s what.

My own father was a little more complicated. I used rat poisoning on him. Every farmer kept rat poison on hand. It took a while, but it eventually did the trick. I had been sick and tired of him making mama feel like she was worthless. My mother had been a saint to put up with him all those years. Sometimes mama would look at me the same way Sarah looked at me tonight, but she never said a word. At least mama had a couple of good years without the butthole before she succumbed to cancer.

Gene had been a good husband except when he drank. He would get mean and nasty, calling me all kinds of names and making fun of my big behind. He used to sing, Fatty, fatty, two by four, can’t get through the kitchen door. Ugh. Of course, he had no room to talk, walking around like he was eight months pregnant. Gerald Dickerson had given Gene some of his prized moonshine and of course he couldn’t stay out of it. Stupid man was drunker than a skunk when he went to mow the pasture. After he had breakfast and called my biscuits “nothing but a bunch of ugly rocks” I vowed that would be his last meal. Pushing him off the seat had been a cinch and then I just let the tractor roll over top of him. Officer Hicks kept shaking his head about the whole incident. I cried like my heart was broken. Shoot, I could have won one of those Academy Awards with all my boo-hooing.

I married Larry because I was lonely, which is not a good reason to marry, let me tell you. I thought Larry had a little money, but he didn’t. He married me because he thought I had some money, which I did. He was lazier than a fat cat on a hot day and he could waste more money than anyone I had ever seen in my life! When he started threatening me with divorce and taking half of everything I had, I knew I had to do something. I figured rat poisoning would be as good as anything else, especially since it had worked before. He had a bad stomach anyway, so it didn’t take that long.

I thought I was through with killing until Brian came back. I had to protect my sister. His gun was pointed right at her! The killing was justified but I knew that Officer Hicks would definitely be suspicious. Sarah wouldn’t help matters either. She had always been in love with the deadbeat and claimed he wouldn’t have shot her. I saw the crazy in his eyes, and I wasn’t taking any chances.

Why is it that almost every night I wake up and look at the clock the time is 3:33. I don’t believe in ghosts except that one time, my cat, Lulu, was looking at something above my head when I was putting my nightgown on. She growled and hissed, giving me goosebumps on top of goosebumps. I mean, if there really were ghosts, wouldn’t daddy, or any of the other, be scaring me half to death? Don’t get me wrong, they all deserved to die, but if they could, wouldn’t they try to get even with me?

OFFICER ADAM HICKS

When Officer Adam Hicks woke up that morning, he thought it would be a typical day. He wasn’t even close. Dispatch had notified him that a former resident, Brian Moore, could possibly be in the area. He and his wife had been reported missing in Knoxville, Tennessee. Dispatch wanted him to check out Brian’s old residence in Mendota. Adam knew the area well. He had been a sheriff’s deputy in Washington County, Virginia for almost 30 years. He’d also grown up there, which was sometimes a blessing and a curse.

He knew Brian and remembered the family. Many strange incidents occurred on that part of the Holston River and few involved Millie Clark-Jones who now went by her maiden name, Caudill. She was always on his radar because there had been too many deaths in that area and he knew she had something to do with them; he just couldn’t prove it. In high school, Millie wasn’t someone you really noticed. She had been quiet and average looking.

Everything had grown up around the old Moore place and he almost missed it. He pulled in carefully, wincing when branches scraped down the sides of the patrol car. As always, Adam looked carefully before he got out, noticing things that most people wouldn’t, like the trampled down grass on the front lawn. It wasn’t hard to miss since it hadn’t been mowed in what looked like a very long time.

The house was quiet and the large stain in the front room screamed blood. Adam took a deep breath and continued walking through the house. The kitchen smelled like death which could be any kind of rodent or critter since the house had been vacant for so long. There was also a blood stain on the kitchen floor.

Adam radioed to dispatch for help, that a possible crime scene was present. Something was definitely going on at the old Moore place.

SARAH

Something was going on at the old Moore place and Sarah was about to vomit the tuna sandwich she had eaten for lunch. Millie had gone to town, to get groceries. What would she think when she got back and saw all the police vehicles across the river? She had tried to tell Sarah that they had nothing to worry about, but Sarah knew it was only a matter of time. A man was dead, murdered! Sarah hadn’t shot Brian, but she helped bury him. She should have told the authorities the truth, but Millie had talked her into keeping her mouth shut. Now it was time to pay the piper.

Millie finally pulled into the driveway. Sarah walked outside to help carry the groceries in. As if someone could hear her, she whispered to Millie, “Now what are we going to do?”

Millie, as usual, acted like it was no big deal. “I’m going to get a snack. What about you?”

“Millie! What if they come over here and start asking questions? What do we say?”

Millie rolled her eyes. “We’re going to say that we didn’t hear a thing, and we didn’t see a thing. Got it? Now go on in and take you one of them gummies I got for you to calm your nerves. You look like you’re about fly to the moon and back.”

Sarah huffed and stomped inside, placing two bags of groceries on the kitchen counter. She refused to take those stupid gummies which made her feel weird and also like she didn’t have legs. Instead, she went back to her place at the window. There was a van parked in front of the house now. Investigators were everywhere.

Sarah’s fingerprints were probably on the doorknob and who knew where else. She’d seen enough Forensic Files episodes to know that it was only a matter of time. Might as well enjoy the time she had left before she was sent to prison. Sarah sat down in her favorite chair, pulled out her coloring book and fancy gel pens Millie had bought her and tried not to think about Millie killing Brian.

MILLIE’S DIARY

I’m not quite as calm as Sarah thinks I am. This ain’t my first rodeo, and I know that if I act guilty it will all go downhill from there. Fortunately, I took a few gummies myself, just to help me sleep. Lord knows, I’ve got a few people that would love to come back and haunt me, even though they all deserved to die. Every last one of them.

I told Sarah not to worry. I wiped all our fingerprints off the doorknobs and anything else we touched. There’s no way anyone could tell we’d been there.

I was relaxing on the porch, watching the hummingbirds, when Officer Hicks pulled up the drive. The tiny birds scattered like a bunch of roaches when the lights turned on. Wish I could stomp that man just like I would a roach. He’s nosy and I don’t like him.

I asked him what was going on across the river before he could ask me. He said he was hoping I could tell him, like I would tell him anything. I just said that I didn’t know a thing. Of course, he wouldn’t let it go and asked me again if I had heard anything suspicious.

Did he not hear me the first time? I’ wanted to get up and slap that man silly. Ever since high school, he’s been acting like he’s something special, looking down his nose at me. I wasn’t going to give him an inch, so I just shook my head. I crossed my legs and looked at my fingernails. They were still a little dirty from grave digging.

He finally gave up and walked back to his patrol vehicle. Before he entered it, he said one more thing that actually ruffled my feathers a little bit, but he’d never know it.

He said, would I have any reason to be in Brian Moore’s old place? As calm as the river on dry summer evening, I said, why would I have any reason to be in that old dump? And then I smirked for good measure.

OFFICER ADAM HICKS

It was all Adam could do not to arrest Millie right then and there. She was doing her best to act innocent and calm but he could tell she knew something. He didn’t know what, but he was going to figure it out.

Investigators found two bodies. They found what was undoubtedly Brian Moore’s body first in a shallow grave. It wasn’t hard to find. Looked like someone was in a hurry when they dug it. He’d been shot and hadn’t been dead very long. The other body, a woman, probably Brian’s wife, was a little harder to find. The grave was further away from the house, on the mountain side, covered with debris. They wouldn’t have noticed it but something, most likely a coyote, had been trying to dig it back up. Her body was a little more decomposed.

Forensics were working on the case which had become a top priority. Adam made sure they assessed every surface for fingerprints.

Murders didn’t happen often, but they did happen, especially at that end of the county. One Mendota resident, who had been working in the carnival circuit, had murdered at least three women. He’d been apprehended when one of the bodies fell out of his truck. Of course, there was also Millie. They hadn’t charged her with murdering anyone because there wasn’t enough proof, according to the prosecuting attorneys.

Adam had been furious when she had gotten away with murdering both her husbands. He couldn’t believe it! Two men dead! He became so obsessed with the case that his wife of 10 years left him, not that he was upset about it. He only married her because he thought she was pregnant. She wasn’t. She lied just to get him to the altar. And the funny thing was that he found out later that he couldn’t have gotten her pregnant anyway. Doctor told him he had a low sperm count. Debbie was just looking for an excuse to leave him and marry someone else before her eggs dried up. The last he heard, she had married another dude but still didn’t have a baby.

That evening, he came home and found a note from his mother. She had left spaghetti in his fridge. One thing was for sure; his mom was a saint. After he warmed it up and grabbed a can of soda, Adam got in his easy chair and turned on the television. For the millionth time, he wished he had a dog or a cat, or anything to lessen the loneliness.

SARAH

Sarah listened right outside the kitchen door after she saw the patrol car pull up. Her heart sank. She just knew they were going to jail. She sighed in relief when the officer left.

As soon as his car disappeared, Millie walked inside. She ignored Sarah while she pulled out the frying pan and began fixing dinner. And the unbelievable thing was that she was humming! She was actually humming a merry tune while Sarah was about to throw up breakfast AND lunch. What was wrong with her sister?! She had to be stark raving mad!

“What are you doing!”

“I’ve got a craving for a cheeseburger. Can you get the crinkly fries out of the deep freezer for me?”

“How can you eat at a time like this?” Sarah couldn’t believe how calm her sister was after talking to the police.

Millie stopped and looked at her sister. “Well, I’m not going to starve because of that dead-beat Brian Moore!” She turned around and began forming patties out of the ground beef. “I think I could eat at least two. How many do you want?”

Sarah shook her head and stomped to her post at the window. She watched until all the vehicles left and then her stomach growled, startling her. Millie had left a hamburger patty on the kitchen stove, anticipating her hunger. One thing was for sure; Millie always watched out for her and protected her.

MILLIE’S DIARY

My stomach was upset after eating two cheeseburgers, half a bag of fries and an oatmeal pie today. Last night I swallowed four gummies just so I could sleep but it didn’t help much. I had the worst nightmares of my life! They all laughed at me and told me I was going to be next.

I believe in Jesus, just like every other person that’s got a lick of sense. I don’t want to go to hell, so I got on my knees before dawn and begged God to forgive me. He knows what kind of men I killed. Surely, He understands.

SARAH

Sarah was surprised when she got up that morning and Millie was still in bed. She decided to fix French Toast. It might be her last meal before she had to go to prison for aiding and abetting a murder.

By the time she flipped the last piece of toast, Millie came into the kitchen, looking a little worse for wear. Her hair was stuck up all over her head and she had dark circles under her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Millie sat down at the table. “I’m fine. What’s for breakfast?”

Sarah grabbed a plate and syrup from the cabinet. “Just some French Toast.”

She began putting food on Millie’s plate until her sister held up her hand. “That’s enough. My stomach is acting up again.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. If there was one meal that Millie loved beyond all others, it was breakfast.

Sarah sat down and held out her hand to Millie and then asked the Lord’s blessing. Just because of what they had done did not mean they had to act like a bunch of heathens.

OFFICER ADAM HICKS

Adam decided to go back to see Millie again. Maybe, this time, he could catch her in a lie. He was surprised when another woman answered the door.

The shock must have shown on his face because she held out her hand and smiled. “I’m Sarah, Millie’s sister.”

She was younger and prettier than Millie. He had forgotten all about Sarah. The last time he had seen her, she was just a young, skinny girl. Adam finally shut his mouth and stuttered, “I’m…I’m here to…to see if you saw anything suspicious across the river.”

Sarah shook her head. “Not a thing except all the police cars. What’s going on?”

Adam found himself sharing more information with Sarah than he intended to. “We found two bodies buried over there. We believe that it’s Brian Moore and his wife, Teresa.”

Sarah looked visibly shocked. “Brian! Oh my goodness! I haven’t seen Brian since high school. Why in the world are they buried over there? What happened?”

Adam had to say that she looked genuinely shocked or else she was a great actress. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

About that time, Millie walked up behind Sarah, not looking as confident as she did the other day when Adam talked to her. She looked a little green around the gills.

“I told you the other day that we ain’t seen nothin’.”

“I know, Millie, but it seems kind of suspicious that you didn’t see something especially since there’s been a double homicide.” Adam looked intently at Millie. “Surely you heard a gunshot or yelling. Something?”

Millie guffawed. “We hear gunshots all the time and don’t think nothin’ of it. Someone’s always shootin’ deer or racoons. Why I shot a groundhog yesterday that was trying to eat my maters.”

Adam had to admit that that was true, about the gunshots and all. He then turned to look at Sarah who still looked a little shocked. Man, she was pretty. He could drown in those beautiful blue eyes. “Ma’am, have you been here long?”

“It’s Sarah.” Adam could see the blush creep up her neck. “I’ve been staying here a few months. I’m a widow now and Millie was gracious enough to let me stay with her until I get back on my feet.”

Adam gulped and nodded. “Well, if you recall anything, anything at all, please call the sheriff’s office and report it. We would appreciate it.”

As Adam drove away, his thoughts were not on solving the double homicide but of a beautiful woman with gorgeous blue eyes.

MILLIE’S DIARY

Officer Hicks came back today. I laughed and told Sarah that I didn’t think we’d have to worry about that old fart anymore. All she needed to do was bat her eyelashes a little.

Sarah shook her head and asked me how I could laugh at a time like this since we’re on the brink of going to jail.

I shrugged my shoulders and told her I ain’t worried about a thing. That was a lie. Well, sort of. I wasn’t worried about going to jail but I was worried about all those bad dreams and my sick stomach.

SARAH

Sarah was worried about Millie. She was getting worse every day. She begged her to go to the doctor, but Millie refused. She said she wasn’t worried about the police finding out that she killed Brian, but her actions were a different matter.

Sarah didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t turn her sister in. Millie was just trying to protect her.

Sarah thought about Officer Hicks. Adam. Boy, was he cute in a Josh Brolin sort of way. He had sleepy eyes that looked into your very soul. She looked him up in Millie’s old yearbooks. He was sort of dorky back then with glasses and long, stringy hair. He lost the glasses and now his locks were just long enough to curl up a little bit. Sarah could just imagine running her fingers through those locks.

Sarah shook her head, scattering her rambling thoughts. She went into the bathroom and got a huge bottle of pink liquid and took it to her sister, who was lying on the couch watching Let’s Make a Deal.

“Take this, Millie. Maybe it will settle your stomach.”

“I’ll take it, but I’ve already drunk a whole bottle of it since Monday.”

Sarah shook her head. “You need to go to the doctor.”

Millie ignored her and took a couple of swigs straight from the bottle. Sarah grimaced inwardly. Her sister was so uncouth. If she told her once, she’d told her a hundred times not to forget to flush the toilet. It was so gross. If she had her own bathroom, she wouldn’t care but the old farmhouse had just one, so they had to share. Millie fussed about all of Sarah’s cosmetics and her bottles of shampoos and conditioners. Sarah always wanted to look her best, unlike Millie who may or may not take a shower every couple of days.

They hadn’t heard anything from Officer Hicks in weeks. Sarah was beginning to think Millie was right, that they had nothing to worry about.

MILLIE’S DIARY

I truly think I’m going to die. I’ve never been this sick in my life. I guess it’s my comeuppance for killing all those men, even if they deserved it. I pray every night that I won’t go to the bad place. If I die, who is going to watch after Sarah? Poor thing may be the pretty sister but she ain’t got sense enough to take care of herself. Good thing I changed my will. At least she won’t have to worry about money anymore.

SARAH

Sarah was in shock. After Millie hadn’t come out of her bedroom that morning, she had gone to check on her. Millie was dead! She just couldn’t believe her sister was dead!

After she had dialed 9-1-1, everything became a living nightmare. That cute officer Hicks had questioned her, and he was so kind and understanding. He even held her hand and patted it.

Now she had to plan another funeral. She knew that Millie would want to be cremated and have her ashes spread at the farm that she loved so much. She would let the coroner know as soon as possible.

Sarah walked through the house, wondering what she was going to do now. She then realized she could do anything, absolutely anything she wanted. This time it was going to be worth it. Unlike that snake, Ray, there was no telling how much money was in Millie’s bank account.

She would sell everything and go to an exotic place like Bora Bora, where she would meet someone rich and handsome. In the meantime, a few cosmetic procedures would help to brighten and tighten her look to perfection.

Sarah sighed. Her life would finally be all that she ever wanted it to be.

But first things first, it was time to read Millie’s diary.

THE END

The first hair style I remember was when I was around six or seven years old. Remember the shag? Carol Brady from the Brady Bunch was as famous for her hair as Jennifer Anniston was famous for ‘The Rachel.’ I don’t remember getting that haircut, but I remember when I got the shag part of it cut off. People call it a mullet these days. Yes, I had a mullet. As you can tell from the photo below, it was very, very scraggly. Everyone was happy when we cut that mess off.

Mom didn’t know what to do with my hair since it was so straight and fine. She usually just tried to keep it short since I threw a fit every time she tried to brush or comb it. I had a very sensitive scalp then and still do today. Somehow, I allowed her to tease it for an Olan Mills picture when I was about seven. I don’t know what was bigger, my hair or my teeth. That was my first instance of being closer to God.

Over the past 60 years, I’ve had lots of hair styles. I’ve had long hair, short hair, bobs, bangs, perms, straight hair, big hair and flat hair. I’ve teased it, flattened it, and yes, I have used Dippity Do to make it stay put. I wasn’t much of a fan of crunchy hair though so when mousse was invented, I tried that too. Do you know you can still buy Dippity Do today? What?!

I don’t know who started it, but in high school I cut my hair at an angle over my ears leaving the rest longer. I guess that was a sort of mullet, too. That short hair was a pain to grow out. It was the style and of course, I wanted to look like everyone else. It was also permed and layered.

I’ve cut my bangs so many times over the years. Bangs are not easy when you have a gigantic cow lick and widow’s peak. I look back now and wonder why I tortured myself so much. Remember those 90s bangs that had an attitude? You could use a whole can of hairspray getting them to stand stiff as a board.

My favorite invention is dry shampoo. It’s a life saver for someone with oily hair, which I have thanks to my daddy. It was a miracle when I discovered this can of wonder and realized I didn’t have to wash my hair every dadgum day. Shew! It’s probably not safe but ‘we’re all going to die of something someday,’ and that’s a direct quote from my dad, may he rest in peace. My lifespan has probably been shortened by at least 10 years from hair products.

Other favorites of mine include the Turbie Twist towel and steam rollers. Thanks to Becky Ford, I use the Turbie twist towel when I have time so that I don’t have to spend an hour drying my hair with the blow dryer. Spending an hour drying your hair while having hot flashes is not pretty, let me tell you! Steam rollers were great when big hair was in style. The curl would stay much longer but you had to be careful and roll it correctly or you’d have a frizzy mess.

I’m old enough to remember the cholesterol treatment. We’d put that stuff in our hair by gobs and then wrap our whole head in plastic, sleeping in it. It was noisy and uncomfortable and didn’t bode well for a good night’s sleep. You’d pray to God that the plastic wouldn’t come off because then you’d have a greasy mess on your pillow. We had to go to extremes back in the day because perms were extra hard on your hair.

I got my first perm in the eighth grade over Christmas break. I was unrecognizable to my classmates but persevered and kept a perm going for at least 20 years. I then decided to be a blonde and you can’t do both, or at least I couldn’t. Straight hair was coming back in style anyway. One time I decided I wanted a little pink in my hair. Good grief, what was I thinking? I probably looked like I smeared strawberry Jello in my hair.

Remember crème rinse? You do if you’re of a certain age. It’s really just the same thing as conditioner. That’s one thing I cannot live without. If I didn’t put it on my hair after shampooing, I wouldn’t be able to detangle that hot mess.

These days, I keep my hair longer and straight. It’s easier and Beth Stout, my hairdresser and special friend, likes it that way. I figure she knows best. I have to stand up for her to cut it because I’m too short for the chair.

I have to say that I do envy a girl with good hair. When she can wear it up or down and it looks so effortless, it’s a gift from God. I bet you since Eve was in her garden, women have been primping their hair to look better. I can see Eve now looking at her reflection in the babbling brook, putting a beautiful flower behind her ear and pulling her locks over one shoulder for special effect. Adam didn’t have a chance. No wonder he ate the fruit that brought sin down on everyone.

A woman with good hair can rule the world so make sure you use it for good and not evil.

This was in 4th grade right before my mother relented and let my bangs grow out (thanks to my Grandma).

This was my 8th grade school picture. A few months later my aunt Eula cut and permed it. This is the first time my mother let me wear lip gloss. I had lots of hair spray to keep it swept back.

This was my hair style through most of my high school years.

This picture was taking when I was about 20 years old. Notice the hair cut real short at my ears?

I was about 22 in this picture and pregnant. I had full bouncy beautiful hair, thanks to prenatal vitamins.

I was about 28 years old in this picture. I began to let my layers grow out but kept the perm.

This picture shows when I first began coloring my hair. I definitely had a party going on at the top of my head.

By this time, I let the perm grow out and went blonde for the first time.

Decided on a drastic change and chopped it all off! I actually loved it at the time but I don’t think I could pull it off now.

I wore this hairstyle for many years before I let it grow long again.

If you’re like me, you find that you say things that seem to be appropriate at the time but then you wonder why you said it and if you really meant it. 

I tend to talk to fill the silence which often gets me in trouble. For example, after a moment of silence, I may blurt out about my morning constitution habits and then notice the horrified look on your face while I make my hasty getaway. 

So, this morning, on the sixth day of our power outage (rolling my eyes thinking Jesus will come back before the power does) I looked outside on the porch and I saw this giant European Hornet. It’s on the ground right in front of the door. It lifts its tail and poops. Now that’s just not something you see every day. Right? I’m thinking that he/she is thinking, ‘Poop happens! Deal with it!’ That’s just something you say and hear sometimes (only with the S word 🙄).  Okay hornet, I hear you. “Suck it up, buttercup.” That’s just something I say to myself. Ha ha!

My husband and I love our coffee in the morning. We have a deal. I always pour our cups, and I bring it to him while he lounges in his favorite chair. Sometimes I think, ‘why can’t you fix it for once?’ Then I remember how particular I am about my coffee and that nobody can fix it but me. When he’s ready for another cup and he wants me to fix it, he’ll say, “Do you want another cup of coffee?” I’ll tell him, “You had me at ‘Do’” whether I’m ready or not. Honestly, I’m always ready. 

Children can be very honest. Recently, we stayed overnight with our grandson. I woke up in the middle of the night with him trying to sneak out the door. After asking him if everything was okay, he sighed and walked back into the room. He said, “To be honest Mimi, you snore and I can’t sleep.” He even left this sweet note (on the back of this picture he drew for us) (👇 See below) that we found the next morning. I wasn’t offended and appreciated his honesty. He couldn’t offend me if he tried. My husband on the other hand said, “She snores all the time and I’ve just gotten used to it.” This is where I roll my eyes (again). Maybe I do snore but it’s because I have to sleep on my back because my hands go to sleep if I sleep on my side. “I’m sorry I snore, honey!” Really, I’m not sorry. That’s just something you say. I guess I am a little sorry. Good grief. 

Everyone is talking about having ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), including me. I have it! I don’t know how I get anything done. I’m getting off point, as usual. Normally I would delete this but I’m leaving it to show you how my mind works. Oh yeah, there is a point to ADD and it’s this. My mind wanders and I will say things (or shout them) that have nothing to do with anything. 

For example:

Kenny will be telling me something about bees or golf (it’s always about bees and golf) and then I tend to tune him out and then get accused of forgetting what he told me when really, I just wasn’t listening. I’m thinking of something else, like what I need to add to the grocery store list. Sometimes I’ll interrupt and say, “Do you need glucosamine, Gatorade or wasp spray?” because I’m afraid if I don’t say it then, I’ll forget. I get “the look” and I’ll say “I’m sorry!” I say ‘I’m sorry’ a lot. I say it so much that I’m sure Kenny knows that I’m not really sorry. It’s just something you say.  🤦‍♀️

The only seatbelt I ever had was my mama’s arm. I can remember riding up in the rear window and even climbing over the seats during a car ride. Road trips were humdrum because back then we didn’t have things like cell phones or iPads. We listened to whatever music my parents liked, which was usually country radio. Back then, I thought country music was so uncool. If you asked a perfectly reasonable question, like how much longer, you would get a seething look through the rear-view mirror that deterred any further nonsense. Dad refused to stop for anything except gas. You learned to suffer through starvation and bladder pain preparing you for instances in your life when food and restrooms would not be available. He wasn’t a softy like my grandmother, who would make my grandfather stop so she could hold me outside the car door so I could do my business.

We didn’t have sunscreen. My mother would drop us off at the pool with nothing but a towel and some nose plugs. My brother and I would be as brown as coffee beans by the end of the summer. I don’t remember ever getting a sunburn which is weird because I sunburn now all the time. It’s a wonder we weren’t all dehydrated too because nobody drank water. I lived on red Kool-Aid for years. I guess that’s sort of like water.

Sometimes I wonder how we survived the long hot summers. We weren’t allowed to come inside except for a quick lunch. Mom was too busy putting 10 layers of wallpaper on the living room walls. We’d walk the neighborhood without supervision and go into some stranger’s house feeling safe. We’d drink their drinks and eat their food, not worrying about poison or evil intentions. 

We learned early on to never, under any circumstances, say we were bored. If I made that mistake mom would hand me a broom and tell me to sweep the pine needles off the driveway. I knew better than to sass, or I’d get a whipping with a switch which I had to find outside. I’d get a small, wimpy switch but the joke was on me. They hurt the worst. I learned early not to cry and whine because of the threat I’ll give you something to cry about. I never knew what that was, but it sounded bad. Real bad. 

I learned to ride a bike on my own when I was five years old. It was my brother’s bike and was very painful when I slipped, if you know what I mean. I didn’t have a helmet or pads for my knees, elbows or butt. No video documentation, just my own fading memories. 

But guess what? I did survive. I’m 59 years old and a productive member of society. My parents didn’t coddle me but gave me the coping skills I needed for this life like starving myself or holding my bladder until I’m floating. I wouldn’t change anything about my childhood. I didn’t have everything I wanted but I had all I ever needed. I’m thankful for every lesson I learned and for every obstacle I overcame. I’m thankful for the simpler times that I was fortunate enough to grow up in. The key is love. My parents loved me. Period. They weren’t perfect and neither am I. Only Jesus is perfect. Most importantly, I also have the love of my Heavenly Father, the example and teachings of Jesus and the guidance of the Holy Spirit AND that’s ALL I’ll EVER need for this life. I’m all set!

Have you ever thought about if you would be missed after you were gone? I’ve been to several funerals lately and it got me to thinking about my own funeral and what the world would be like without Karen Gail Cox Bruce. Lonnie Holland, my mother-in-law, had been thinking about her funeral for years, editing it as the years went by, which was a long time because she was almost 96. She’d outlived a lot of people she had tasks for in said funeral.

I always told my husband to put me in a cheap pine box or have me cremated. I don’t care one way or the other. When Jesus comes back, He’ll find me. My only request is that I want a CLOSED CASKET! No exceptions!

I’d like someone to sing I’ll Fly Away. I love that song, and it sounds so happy.

“I’ll fly away, oh, Glory
I’ll fly away (in the morning)
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by
I’ll fly away”

I would like to create a proper goodbye in case I die today, tomorrow or twenty years from now, just so you’ll know exactly how I feel. We’re never promised tomorrow. When it’s my time to go, there’s nothing that’s going to stop it. An accident would be fine (as long as I don’t suffer too much) because the accidental insurance payout would be amazing for my husband and children, especially if I’m in a plane crash. I think I’d be happy just to have the money that big insurance company in Omaha has spent on junk mail trying to get me to buy more insurance. The long-term policy Kenny and I bought 30 something years ago seemed like a lot of money at the time, but now, not so much. Money will not make you happy but it’s better than being broke.

I’ve met so many people throughout my lifetime. Thanks to FB/Instagram I get to see my old classmates and keep up with everyone I’ve met through the many jobs that I’ve had over the years. From Tennessee, to North Carolina, to Virginia, it’s been fun gathering more friends along the way.

So, if you’re reading this, and I’ve met you in my almost 60-year journey, I want to say…it’s been nice knowing you. I hope I was nice but if I said something or did something to offend you, I’m sorry.

I won’t be worrying about any regrets once I’m in heaven. I don’t think, in my opinion, that God allows us to worry about things on earth because good grief, that’s all we’d do.

Please watch out for my husband. He can make his own coffee but he’d rather I do it. He would be missing me and probably waste away or die from eating too many bad foods.

My children and grandchildren will miss me too. Nobody loves you like your mama. My mama would also miss me. She’s probably mad that I’m writing this.

My last request is that you love each other. Be tolerant and patient with your friends and your family. I know it’s easier said than done but try anyway. Help someone because that’s what’s going to make you happy and fulfilled.

Know that I love each and every one of you, but I won’t miss you because I’ll be in Heaven, doing whatever God has planned for me.

​

I love y’all but when I say y’all I mean mostly the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. No offence. I try to love the rest of y’all but it’s hard sometimes. Some people are easy to love, like your family and friends. What about the extremely rude people who think their time is more valuable than yours? What about someone that kills for no reason other than being greedy and mean? What about that child molester or someone that stole your life savings. Most of us can’t comprehend the true evil that exists all around us. God sees all but He still loves us and wants everyone to turn from their sin, whether it’s unimaginable or petty. Sin is sin.

We’re human and we can’t understand the kind of love God feels for ALL of us. I have two boys and a husband that I love with all my heart and then I look at my grandchildren. The love I feel is so overwhelming that I want to cry sometimes. Two of them (twins) are fixing to drop at any minute and I can’t believe how much I already love them! But that’s nothing compared to what God feels for us. What if you felt that love for everyone that comes into your life? People would look at you like you’re crazy is what. I volunteer by grading tests for a prison ministry. I don’t know what kind of crimes they’ve committed but I pray for each one. They need and deserve my prayers. It’s not up to me to be their judge and jury, that’s up to God. Even if they never get out of prison, they could be convicted of their sins and help others in the process. I truly believe that our actions and demeanor affect others whether it’s in a prison or in church. If you’re kind and positive, others will take that and do the same. If you’re rude and hateful to others, more than likely, that will be passed on as well. Just remember, do unto others as you would have done to you.

​Can you just imagine how this world would be if we followed those two great commandments which are to love God with all your heart and soul and all the peoples too? We wouldn’t be able to get enough of God’s word, and we would be helping others all the time. We wouldn’t come up with excuses like, 1) I’ve got the achy legs today. 2) I’m getting old and going through the change and don’t like what I’m changing in to. 3) I’ve got to clean the fridge because there’s something stinky in it. I could go on and on, but you get the gist of it. We’ll never be like Jesus, but we can try to do better. We can try to help others more. We can try to be more compassionate. We’ll never be perfect, but we can try every day to do the best we can.

Don’t just pray every day. Pray without ceasing. Talk to God and keep him in your heart always so that you’ll have that relationship that He wants. I promise you that He will always be there. The Holy Spirit will always guide you, even when you’re not asking. If you mess up, which we all do, then He will help you get back to it. We’ve all got our free will, right? Can you imagine how many people He has to work through to answer our prayers? We have a first-hand account of Jesus (who is God on earth) that’s right there in the Bible for us to read and study. He tells us exactly how to live to have that relationship with God. He also makes it possible for us to go to Heaven when we die. It boggles my mind that people don’t want this. They want to live the way they want but what they don’t realize is that they’ll never be happy living for themselves. They will never be content and fulfilled.

​Jesus loved us sinners, but he really got mad at the hypocrites. He about blew his top off when he overturned the tables of the people who were trying to make money at the temple. He fumed at the religious leaders who were worrying more about all the laws and missing the whole point. He stood up for the children and said you better watch out if you mistreat them. And you better not be all self-righteous around Jesus because He would call you out on it!

Jesus got angry but he never sinned. We can’t let our anger cause us to sin. Sometimes life isn’t fair, period, but with God’s help we can get through it. We can forgive and forget and pray for that person that hurt us. I know this first-hand because recently someone made me so mad, I could have chewed them up and spit them out, but God told me to keep my big mouth shut. If I had said some of the things I was thinking, our relationship would have never recovered. I’m so glad I listened(that time). God knows so much more than me.

Thank the good Lord for his grace and forgiveness. As the hymn says, God’s grace will pardon and cleanse within, and is greater than all our sin. If God gives us grace, shouldn’t we give others grace too. I don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve it, but God gives it to us anyway. God is merciful when we ask for forgiveness so shouldn’t we be merciful? I can tell you that it’s hard to be merciful to someone that isn’t really sorry. Maybe you think that the I’m sorry wasn’t very heartfelt. Even if they hadn’t said, I’m sorry, you should still forgive and move on. Don’t set yourself up for future pain by holding a grudge. Let God guide you through it and especially out of it. Jesus said, “Take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.” (Matthew 7:3-5) I heard someone once say, “Worry about your own eyebrows.” Same thing.

I have an friend that asks any stranger he meets if they know Jesus. He’s not a bit shy or nervous. I’ve taken evangelistic classes and know what it is to be saved but when I try to ask someone if they know Jesus, my tongue gets all tied up in knots and I forget everything. I know how Moses felt, for sure. I am not an eloquent speaker and I tend to speak in a very halting way. It’s worse now, what with the menopause fog clouding my little brain. It’s easier for me to write so I can erase and re-type to my heart’s content and get it exactly right (and then fret about it once I click submit). We all have talents to do God’s will and work. Even me. Even you.

​I used to tell my children every day to ‘make good choices.’ I worked at the same school that my sons attended. One day my youngest son drove me to school because my car was in the shop. He pulled into the front, and as I got out of the car, he said, “Make good choices.” I had to smile and realized that even when you don’t think they’re listening, they pull one out of the hat. “Every choice has a consequence,” I’d say. “Make sure it’s a good one.” It’s important to be mindful of that. 

So Verily, Verily, I say unto you, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE! You won’t be sorry that you showed love and compassion. You might be sorry that you were angry and bitter about something that wasn’t worth it. Be that WHOSOEVER, that believes in Jesus and has that everlasting life that God promised. I’m here to tell you that it’s the most awesome gift you will EVER receive. ❤️

 

It’s funny how you remember certain phrases people use. I got to thinking about my family and all the ‘sayings’ I grew up with.

My granny Lottie, daddy’s mom, used to always begin a sentence with, ‘you fellers.’ “You fellers hungry?” “You fellers got enough Kivvers?” Kivvers were blankets in case you didn’t know. She was always worried we were hungry or cold. I remember staying at her house in Florida and she would wear the thermostat out running it up and down. She’d get up out of bed and check on us, covering her mouth because she had already taken her teeth out. She just couldn’t imagine that we’d be warm enough, and the odds that we’d wake up freezing to death were ‘fair to middlin.’ Once she checked on us a few times, she’d go back to bed and ‘rest her eyes.’ The next morning we’d all wake up all ‘bright eyed and bushy tailed.’ Not really. It’s hard to sleep good when you’re so ‘dadgum’ hot.

Daddy used to say that Granny’s hearing was so good, she could ‘hear a pin drop.’ Of course, daddy’s hearing was ‘slim and none.’ You couldn’t do anything without her hearing it, that’s for sure. She would sneak up on you and scare you to death, often telling you something that she may have already told you a hundred times. One thing that was always on her mind was making a ‘store order’ (grocery list).  So, we could go to her favorite place, Publix and then maybe to Taco Bell, her favorite restaurant. Being from southwest Virginia, everything was just up the ‘holler.’

Much to granny’s chagrin, there was a bar close to their neighborhood in Ocala. She didn’t like that bar and called it the ‘beer joint.’ One time the boys were playing outside in the front yard, along with a few other kids, and this ‘feller’ came sauntering down the street and stopped to ‘yammer’ with the kids. He’d obviously been to the ‘beer joint’ and could barely stand up straight, much less talk sensibly. Granny and I were on the porch watching the show and then he came up and tried to get into her house. Granny didn’t know whether to laugh or fuss at him. We got rid of him but that was definitely our excitement for the day. 

Daddy used to say he had CRS, ‘Can’t remember stuff.’ Well, he’d say another word that started with S, and I think you probably know which word I’m talking about. He’d also tell me ‘Gettin’ old ain’t for sissies.’ I concur daddy, I concur. Since daddy was in the Navy, one of his favorite sayings was ‘Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.’ If I heard it once, I heard it a million times. Bless his heart.

My grandma Lessie also had some particular sayings. When she wanted to convey how much she loved you, she would say, ‘Don’t you never worry,’ like I would worry about how much she loved me. She also worried that you were on the brink of starvation. Goodness, that woman could cook. Home cooking was her specialty. Everyone loved to eat at her house. A Sunday meal would consist of a meat (often meatloaf or chicken and dumplings), mashed potatoes, fried potatoes with onions, slaw, pinto beans, freezer corn, pickled corn, mixed pickles, greens, green beans, fresh lettuce with bacon grease, cornbread, and countless other dishes. We hardly had room for our plates! Of course, she’d always have dessert too.

Grandma liked the word, ‘nary.’ For example, you’d ask her “Do you have any fat free cookies?” She’d say, “Nary a one, but I got some cake.” Fat free stuff was ‘sorry’ which meant it wasn’t any good. She’d send you home with a ‘poke’ (small bag) full of goodies, along with a ‘potholder’ (oven mitt) or one of the pillows she made. If you were ‘feeling poorly’ (not good), she’d really set you up. Grandma loved to garden and would often get in a hurry to plant it, getting aggravated when it was Dogwood winter, Blackberry winter, or whichever winter was next. She’d say, ‘pull your britches up.” I told my Grandson the other day to put his ‘britches’ on and he said, “What are britches.” I laughed and laughed.

My aunt Betty ran a bunch of ‘trailer courts,’ (mobile home parks). She dealt with a lot of ‘sorry’ people (in her words) that didn’t want to pay their rent. She heard every excuse in the world. If they had to make their car payment instead, she’d tell them, “Hope you like living in your car.” She’d say some of them must have been ‘born under a wood pile.’ The young people of today were ‘rurnt (ruined) and didn’t make paying bills a priority. She’d love it when all of her sisters (mom, Eula, Sandy and Sue) came by. They often congregated at her trailer. You didn’t want to get on her bad side because she might ‘snatch you bald-headed.’ Of course, if I was there during lunch or dinner, I’d best be ‘fixin’’ to do the dishes. Aunt Sue was a mess too. If you weren’t talking sensibly, you were talking out of the ‘side of your a$$,’ (not making sense). Aunt Eula, beautician turned phlebotomist, could make some ‘high falutin’ rolls that would melt in your mouth. Aunt Sandy would always write a beautiful poem and give it to all the sisters at Christmas to remind them that even though they ‘pert near’ killed each other growing up, they were the best of friends in the end. Uncle Garry was the youngest and the only boy. When he was little, he was ‘plum ornery’ but he was the light of his mama’s life.

My mama wouldn’t put up with any nonsense from me and I’ll just tell you the truth, I was scared of her. I had a very healthy respect for my mom and knew she didn’t put up with any ‘hissy’ or ‘conniption’ fits. If we didn’t have any common sense, she would say ‘we didn’t have the sense, God gave a goose.’ If we didn’t ‘hush up crying she’d give us something to cry about.’ Mama didn’t put up with any whining and we NEVER said we were bored because she would give you something to do, like sweep the driveway. When we were little and were in trouble, we had to get our own switches. We’d get the wimpy ones, not realizing that they hurt the worst. If we thought we knew too much, my mama would tell us ‘right fast’ that we didn’t know ‘diddly squat.’ 

I hope I never forget my heritage. I often say, ‘oh my word’ and heard my grandson say it a couple of times the other day. My granddaughter picks up little things too, like ‘oh my goodness!” One day it won’t be cool to sound like Mimi, but I ‘reckon’ one day it might be ‘hunky dory.’

I’m sure you can think of a few ‘sayings’ that you grew up with. Please share in the comments. I’d love to hear them!

It’s pretty quiet out at the farm. We don’t have a lot of traffic so when you’re outside (especially in the spring) the birds are very noticeable. Living on the river, you see lots of geese, bald eagles , wild ducks, hawks and cranes. The larger birds are fishing for small-mouthed bass, which are plentiful in the river. 

The bird noises can sometimes be deafening. They’re so distinct, from the sweet melody of the Robin to the annoying yak of the Blue Jay and crow and also to the honking geese passing through. Some birds are easy to identify, for example, the Mourning Dove. Hoohoo … hoo … hoo … hoo. Children often mistake this for an owl. I personally think they sound so sad. We often hear Great Horned Owls at night. Hoo … hoo … hoohoohoohoohoo. I wonder what they’re hooyhooing about. Are they communicating with other owls or warning their prey? “La-la-la-la-laaa…I’m about to eat youyouyouyou.”

The hummingbirds love to come around in the summer. I keep the feeders close to the porch so I can watch them fuss and fight. There’s always one bird who’s a bully and runs all the other birds off. I don’t understand this since there’s more than one place to sit. Can’t we all just get along? Maybe I need to give them a lesson on diversity and inclusion.

The blue jays fly around a lot in the back yard, from the house to chomp on some birdseed and then back to the woods, where they have their nests. I wish all the birds kept their nests in the woods. We have some that insist on making them in the gutters, in the wreathes or in the ferns and any other annoying place. I opened the door to the upstairs porch one day and almost stepped on a snake who was looking for bird eggs. Don’t think snakes can’t climb your house? Mom saw a huge snake shimmying up the kitchen window once. Scared her to death.

Mendota is the Hawk Capitol of the world and apparently they migrate through our area. The chickens and ducks keep a side eye out for these birds as they do not want to be their drive-thru dinner. They instinctively run when they hear that Hawk shriek. The rooster lets out his own little shriek. As he’s hightailing it for safe cover, he’s saying, “Run for your lives, my beautiful girls! Danger is at hand!” 

The wild turkeys gobble-gobble their way through the pasture. The impressive males fan their tails trying to attract the females, who have long, sleek necks. They slowly meander around the hills, hopefully eating as many insects as they can which I’m sure the cows appreciate. I wonder what a wild Turkey tastes like. Is it better than a Butterball? Kenny!

We have powerlines around the house, and we often get to view A LOT OF shenanigans. (This is where I roll my eyes) Springtime is crazy with all the mating. Sheweee! They’re fast and very efficient, except one time in the backyard I thought one was killing the other. I hollered but I guess they were just a little overzealous or maybe she wasn’t interested. I have to shut my side mirrors on my car because birds have a little too much fun watching themselves (or mating with themselves?), and in the process poop all over my car. 

Bluebirds are my favorite. For some reason, you only see them at the front of the house. They’re so cute and when you see that brilliant spot of blue it just makes you happy, like when you see a rainbow. I’m smiling right now. Are you?

Swallows (or swoopy birds as I call them) are always funny. I remember, my poor sweet, little dog Daisy, couldn’t walk outside to do her business without them being offended and afraid she was going to get their babies. Daisy could barely walk, much less climb a carport to invade their nest.

Mockingbirds surely love to show off their vast array of sounds. I could listen to them all day, unlike that annoying blue jay. I’m listening to one right now as I’m trying to write and I’m getting ready to do some squawking of my own.

My son Adam bought me a clock that has a different bird noise every hour. I like them all except 4:00, which is the Black-capped Chickadee. They’re cute and adorable but that sound grates on my nerves, like fingernails on a chalkboard. Young people don’t know what I’m talking about since most schools don’t have chalkboards anymore.Nails on a whiteboard aren’t annoying at all. My favorite bird on the clock chirps at 1:00. The robin sounds so sweet and soothing. 

My son, Sam, gave me a little bird feeder that you attach to your window, using suction cups. I often see the tufted titmouse and cardinal taking a few seeds at a time and then flying off. Sometimes a dove will sit in it, taking up the whole feeder. Reminds me of when I’m eating a bag of potato chips, all sprawled out on the couch. I understand little Dove, I understand.

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“I have an idea, Cathy, let’s go to the cemetery and see if Roxanne is awake!”

My best friend, Jill, was always bringing up crazy things to do. The last time I spent the night with her, she proposed that we sneak out after midnight and dress up like ghosts and scare people. Not wanting to seem like a fuddy dud, I went along. We were hiding on the side of the road when we saw some car lights headed our way. We jumped out and began flapping our sheets up and down, trying to be as spooky as we knew how. Old man Felty, after swerving and running into the embankment, jumped out of his car and ran screaming down the road away from the ‘ghosts.’ We found out later that he had a little too much of farmer Bill’s moonshine that night, but, it was a good thing because he swore off alcohol for the foreseeable future.

“Who the heck is Roxanne?”

Jill grinned and popped a piece of chocolate in her mouth. “She’s buried in the cemetery down the road and there’s a bell on her grave.”

Looking confused, I asked her, “Why is there a bell on her grave?”

“Well, in the olden days, sometimes people were thought to be dead but, just in case they weren’t, there had to be a backup plan. Someone would put a string in the coffin that was connected to a bell outside of the grave. If they woke up in the casket, all they had to do was ring the bell and people would come running and dig them out.”

I nodded. Jill knew all kinds of stuff, so I figured she knew what she was talking about. “What if they woke up at night when everybody was asleep, and no one heard the bell ringing?”

Jill shivered and grimaced. “Maybe they had a cemetery guard on watch day and night, listening for the ringing of the bells.”

I shook my head. “You couldn’t pay me enough to stay in a cemetery all night.”

“It’s not so scary in the day.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “Okay, let’s go see Roxanne.”

The cemetery was just about a half mile from Jill’s house, but it was uphill the whole way and already hot outside. We were panting and out of breath by the time we got to the gate. It wasn’t locked so Jill lifted the lever and motioned for me to follow her. 

We began tiptoeing around the graves like the Grinch in Whoville. I couldn’t help but giggle and then Jill shushed me.  She pointed to some small gravestones that were similar and all in a row “I think those are all soldier’s graves from the civil war. The stones are so worn that you can barely read them,” she said.

Careful not to step where I thought they were buried, I tried to read the stones, but the writing was ineligible. The next row had a huge grave marker that had a picture of a man and a woman. It had a cross and ‘forever in our hearts’ printed under their names.  I thought it was a little creepy and odd to have a photo on a grave, especially in full color. 

Jill whispered, “Look at these. They’re all babies.”

I looked at the small graves. One had an engraving of Jesus carrying a sheep. I thought about my aunt Sharon. Her baby died when it was just a few days old. Did she have a grave? My mom never said anything about it. 

I watched Jill walk purposefully towards a grave next to the fence. She waved me over and mouthed, “Here it is! Here’s Roxanne!” Jill bent down and motioned towards the bell. “It’s not very big but I guess it would do the trick.”

Thankfully, the bell wasn’t ringing, not that someone who died in 1903 would be waking up and pulling the bell string. The air was hot and still, the only noise being a cow mooing down the road.

Jill patted the ground next to her. “Let me tell you the story of Roxanne. I heard it from my dad, and he heard it from his dad.” 

I sat down, my knees up and my arms wrapped around them waiting to hear about this lady with a bell on her grave. I was assuming that she was the only grave to have one. “Is it true or are you making it up?”

“Oh, it’s true all right. Cross my heart and hope to die and stick a needle in my eye.”

I had shorts on, and my legs were already beginning to get itchy. I watched a honeybee land on a dandelion close to my shoe and then looked at Jill. “Is it a scary story?” Jill knew I scared easily.

Jill shrugged. “Yeah, a little bit, but you’ll love it.” Jill put her hair behind her ears and then clasped her hands. “So, Roxanne was the prettiest girl that anyone around here had ever seen. Her hair was dark, almost black, and it fell all the way to her waist. She also had the bluest eyes, but they were a light blue and so piercing that men just fell into a trance when they looked at her.

“Her skin was white and creamy and …”

I held up my hand and stopped Jill. “Okay, okay. She was pretty. Get to the story.”

Jill held her hands out in irritation. “The fact that she was so beautiful is a major part of the story.”

“Fine.”

Jill continued. “Roxanne had a twin sister, and her name was Hannah.”

Jill smiled in a snarky kind of way. “Hannah was as ugly as Roxanne was pretty. Her hair was as red as Roxanne’s was black and she had a bad case of acne. Her eyes were the same piercing blue, but she wore thick glasses on account of being cross-eyed. Although Roxanne was beautiful, she was also, shall we say, dumb as a rock. Hannah was ugly but smarter than five Roxanne’s put together. Their father was the pastor of that church right up the road, next to the swinging bridge. Their mother died when the twins were just babies.

“Every Sunday after church, Roxanne and Hannah would stand on either side of their father on the front steps greeting people as they left the church. Roxanne would smile her pretty smile and Hannah would stand there all mad because the boys would make fools of themselves trying to get her attention. One particular boy, by the name of Johnny Jones, was Roxanne’s favorite but nobody knew that Hannah loved him too. Every Sunday Johnny would beg Pastor Duncan to walk Roxanne to his house where they usually ate lunch. His mama was a great cook and often invited the Duncan’s over for lunch after church.

One Sunday, as usual, Johnny asked Pastor Duncan if he could walk Roxanne but that day, the Pastor asked if Johnny could walk Hannah as well, so he could take care of some business at the church first. Hannah’s heart skipped a beat but then fell when she saw the look on Roxanne and Johnny’s faces. Of course, they didn’t want Hannah to tag along. Normally Hannah would have let the two lovebirds have their time alone, but that day Hannah had had it with being always left behind. She wondered how Johnny could love someone so stupid. Didn’t he realize that Roxanne’s pretty looks would soon fade but she would always be dumb? Hannah’s daddy said that one day Hannah would outgrow her awkwardness and bloom into a beautiful girl just like her mama did. Her daddy never lied but it was sure taking a long time.

Once Johnny and Roxanne realized that Hannah was going to walk with them, despite their obvious scorn, they both sighed and continued towards the path in the woods that would lead them to Johnny’s house. Hannah walked ahead but she could hear Roxanne giggling. As she turned and looked back, her sister’s face was red. ‘What are you looking at four-eyes?’ Johnny said.

“Embarrassed and angry, Hannah turned away and began stomping her feet towards the creek, mumbling about rudeness. She wondered how someone so handsome could be so mean. She tried to jumped across, but her boots landed in some mud, and she sank to her ankles. She could hear her sister and Johnny snickering. She pulled both boots out of the mud making loud sucking noises as she did so. As she was wiping the slimy mud off of her shoes with leaves, she watched Johnny lift Roxanne gracefully over the creek, making sure her feet landed on dry ground. His hands lingered a little too long on her sister’s hips as he looked longingly into her eyes. It was right then that Hannah had decided that she had had enough.”

Jill pulled a piece of candy out of her pocket and handed me one. We both began sucking our peppermints while Jill continued her story.

“Instead of walking on, Hannah cleared her throat and looked pointedly at the couple. She had an idea, one that had been on her mind for a while. Now was the perfect opportunity. ‘Did you know there’s a cave on the other side of this ridge?’

“Johnny looked at Hannah with contempt. ‘There is not. I know of every cave around here.’

“Hannah shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don’t believe me. I don’t care. Hawk told me about it, and he should know because he’s half Indian.’ Hawk was their housekeeper Cassidy’s son. His dad was an Indian and he had died in a mining accident.

Jill said, “Before the whites settled here in Mendota, there were bunches of Indians. Arrowheads are everywhere you look. She continued, “Johnny still looked at Hannah like he didn’t believe her. Hannah said, ‘I’ll show you if you want me to.’ Roxanne looked skeptical as well and said, ‘Come on Johnny, I don’t want to see some old dirty cave. I’m hungry.’ That was Roxanne’s biggest challenge. She liked to eat, and Hannah knew that her sister was gaining weight, especially around her middle. 

“Unfortunately for Roxanne, Johnny was intrigued, if only to prove that Hannah was lying about the cave. He grabbed Roxanne’s hand and said, ‘Lead the way.’

“Hannah began the trek through the woods, purposefully going through some briar bushes along the way just to aggravate her sister. One long limb caught Roxanne’s perfect hair, pulling it away from her head. ‘Ow!’

“Looking back, Hannah saw Johnny trying to fix the wayward strand, tucking it behind her sister’s ear in a very familiar way. She wondered just how close Johnny and her sister had gotten. Shaking her head, Hannah continued, getting closer to the cave. Finally, they were right in front of it and Hannah stopped. Johnny looked around. ‘Well, where is it?’

“Hannah pointed down. ‘Right there.’ It was just a hole about the size of a small boulder, but it was covered in vines and brush.

“Johnny got down on his knees and looked in the hole. ‘Are you sure that’s a cave?’ It was so dark that Johnny couldn’t see anything.”

‘Yes, if you get a torch and hold it down there you can see inside. I think some Indians used to go in there to hide. Hawk said that sometimes you can hear ghosts screaming like warriors in battle. It’s very spooky.’

“Roxanne whined, ‘Let’s go. I don’t like it here. It gives me the creeps.’

“Ignoring her sister, Hannah said, ‘Hawk said there’s a bigger opening but it’s very well hidden and it’s hard to find.’ She could tell that Johnny was very intrigued which was suiting her purpose. If she could just get Johnny away from Roxanne for once, he would find that what Hannah lacked in looks, she more than made up for in intelligence and conversation. She told him, ‘I can take you there later if you want me too.’ Roxanne was afraid of the dark so hopefully her annoying sister would stay home, and maybe eat another piece of cake.

“They made plans to meet later where Hannah would show Johnny the other opening of the cave.

“That afternoon, Hannah was waiting with matches and some unlit torches when she saw Johnny and her sister walk up. Hannah had changed into older, more sensible clothes but of course, Roxanne was still dressed in her Sunday best. Hannah couldn’t believe she showed up but tried to hide her aggravation. ‘Let’s go; it will take at least 30 minutes to get there. Are you sure you want to go, Roxanne?’ 

“Her sister looked irritated and shook her head. ‘Not really but I guess I have to.’ She looked pointedly at Johnny who only grinned. 

“’You’ll be fine Roxy, I promise.’ 

“Hannah turned around and began walking before they could see her disgusted look. Thankfully, her sister was able to keep up with them and only had to stop a couple of times to ‘catch her breath.’ They made it to the cave opening which was only large enough to enter if you stooped down. It was also covered in brush making it easy to pass by without noticing. 

“They lit the torches and slowly shuffled into the mouth of the cave. They felt the dampness and heard the slow trickle of water as they walked further in and were finally able to stand up. Hannah moved to one of the walls and held her torch up. ‘If you look really close, you can see the etchings made by the Indians.’ Growing up in their small town, Hannah had heard the many tales of the whites driving out the Indians years before. Mendota was even an Indian name, meaning ‘Bend in the river.’

“Johnny held up his torch and traced his finger on one of the etchings. Hannah could tell he was impressed but she could also tell that her sister was not. She was hugging her arms, either from being cold or scared or both. 

“Hawk, who didn’t have many friends, had showed Hannah the cave and told her a story about an Indian that had lost his life right outside that very cave, trying to protect his family who were hidden inside. He said the cave was haunted and to never go there at night. Hannah didn’t believe in ghosts, but she told them the story anyway, embellishing a bit here and there just so her sister would be scared. Sure enough, it worked, and Roxanne was shaking like a leaf.

“’That’s enough, Hannah. I know you’re just trying to scare me, just like you always do.’ She turned to Johnny and grabbed his hand. ‘Let’s go. This is stupid.’

“For once, Johnny ignored his beloved ‘Roxy’ and turned to Hannah. ‘How far does the cave go back?’

“Knowing she had Johnny’s complete attention, she pointed towards a dark area, ‘It’s pretty big but Hawk hasn’t explored the whole thing. Just up here is an underground spring. Want to see?’

’Heck yeah!’

“Roxanne tried to pull Johnny back. ‘Please, Johnny, I’m scared. Let’s go now. I don’t feel good about this place.’

“He tried to cajole Roxanne by saying, ‘It’s okay darlin,’ I’ll never let anything happen to my girl.’

“Hannah tried not to throw up and turned to walk toward the spring. Remembering about the drop off, she turned back to warn them when all of a sudden, she heard her sister screaming. Terrified, she held the torch closer to see what had happened, but the screaming stopped suddenly and only a deafening silence had ensued. Johnny’s eyes were as round as saucers as he scanned the crevice down below, holding his torch. They both flinched when they saw Roxanne laying at the bottom, looking like a rag doll, her head and limbs laying at odd angles.

“Johnny yelled, ‘Roxanne!’ but the only answer was his echo. Hannah and Johnny looked at each other with terror all over their faces, not knowing what to do or what to say. It had happened so fast. One minute they were all fine and in an instant later her sister was dead. All the mean things that Hannah had ever thought about her twin sister popped into her head. She also remembered the times when they were close and could practically read each other’s minds. She saw her beautiful sister smiling her beautiful smile. Hannah began screaming uncontrollably. She couldn’t stop.”

My mouth was hanging open in shock. “I can’t believe she died! What happened next?”

Jill sniffed and shook her head. “Hannah’s father was so devastated that he refused to believe that his beautiful daughter was dead. He insisted that they put the bell on her grave in case she woke up like she was Lazarus or something. Johnny sat by her grave day and night praying for a miracle. 

The funny thing was that her dad was right about one thing. As the years went by Hannah turned out to be as stunning as her sister. Her acne cleared up and her eyes straightened out but being beautiful didn’t make her happy. Everyone, including herself, blamed Hannah for Roxanne’s death. She never married and died an old maid. Her final wishes were that she be cremated so that nobody would visit her grave and hopefully forget that she ever existed. She wanted her ashes spread inside the cave where her sister died. People say that you can still hear Hannah crying on the mountain where the cave is.”

Jill and Cathy sat in silence, contemplating the sad tale.

Finally, Jill stood up. “Let’s go home and get a coke. It’s so hot and I’m thirsty.”

Cathy got up as well. She could feel the sweat trickling down her back. The air was stagnant, not even a touch of a breeze to cool things off. As they turned to walk out of the cemetery, Roxanne’s bell began ringing. It wasn’t just a jingle; it was intense and loud. Both girls looked at each other in terror and began running as if their life depended on it.



OK, so why didn’t I realize before that when you clicked on a recipe online you don’t have to read or scroll through the little book that tells the who, what, when where and why of the recipe? There’s an icon with jump to recipe. This is where I roll my eyes and smack my head. Really? I don’t mind reading the little book beforehand, it’s just that when I open it, I’m ready to get to it and don’t have time. When I’m at my leisure, I will open it up and read about why it’s so great and all the interesting aspects about the recipe but usually I forget and I’m not really in the mood. I don’t care about where the recipe came from or what cheese ‘kicks it straight up into gourmet territory.’

Sometimes I go straight to one of my many church cookbooks. Wow, can you find some comfort food there! Most are pretty easy and straight to the recipe. If it’s too complicated or I don’t recognize the ingredients I move on. If you can’t find it at Walmart or Food City, then forget it. You can’t go wrong with casseroles with ritz cracker toppings. I know Ritz crackers are probably not the best for you but when you crumble them up with melted butter? That’s just blue-ribbon worthy!

 I have my own book of collected recipes. Some are of Grandma Lessie’s in her own handwriting.  I will treasure those always. One of my boy’s favorite dishes growing up was my chicken and rice casserole. My oldest, Adam, is a very picky eater but he loved that casserole and his wife, Tif, still makes it for him, probably better than I did. He always notices if you change any ingredients. For example, one time I used broccoli flavored Rice-A-Roni instead of chicken flavor.  He said, “Mom, what did you do to this casserole?”

I find that as I get older, I get a little more creative and with the internet, possibilities are endless. My daughter-in-law Catherine, Sam’s wife, is also a good cook and she inspires me to get more creative. Our granddaughter Evie’s tastes change often, so Catherine is very inventive with all types of food. It’s so fun to watch Evie eat. She loves my homemade granola and always says, “More?” She gets excited with sprinkles on her food, which are just chia seeds. Ha-ha! Theodore, our grandson, is very picky, just like his daddy. When he was little he would dip his fingers in honey mustard and eat the chicken nuggets later.  He didn’t mind if they were cold. Now he eats them dry but still doesn’t mind if they’re cold. When he spends the night, he absolutely loves my French toast in the morning.

Today is my husband’s birthday. Yesterday he requested a rum cake. I found a recipe online and didn’t realize until I put it in the oven that it didn’t call for nuts. I forgot! I hope it tastes OK without the nuts. I like to tell the story about telling Kenny (not long after I met him) that I would bake him a birthday cake. I asked what kind he liked and he said, “German Chocolate.” He was turning 25 and I was still 18 and didn’t know my way around the kitchen yet. I went home and said, “Mom, I need you to make a cake.” I never told him I didn’t bake it. He asked me out on a date not long afterward, so my plan worked. I know I’m not the best cook but you’d never know with Kenny. He loves everything I fix, bless his heart.

I’ve learned to can a lot of stuff since we’ve had a garden the last couple of years. We had cucumbers out the wazoo in the summer of 2021 so I canned a lot of Kenny’s favorite pickles. My grandma Lessie used to make them and they’re called Virginia Chunk Pickles. They’re very sweet and I’m not a fan but Kenny could eat a whole jar of them, especially with hot dogs. Last year’s crop was not as abundant, and the pickles weren’t the best for canning.  I called them shorty-fatties. Skinny pickles can better. I also canned a lot of tomato sauce with roasted cherry tomatoes and also apples from our apple trees. I love my little herb garden too. There’s nothing better than fresh dill, basil, and parsley.

Well, I’m hungry now.  I better go fix some lunch.

I’ve got a cold. My husband used to sleep like the dead but now wakes up if I so much as clear my throat. I didn’t want to wake him, so I went downstairs, got on the couch, all the while coughing and hacking, with disgusting, vile junk coming out of my body. It was 5:30 am and the moon was so bright, coming through the living room window that I was contemplating closing the shades. And then, I just felt a peace and began to thank God for his love. I thanked Him for always being there for me and loving me.

I decided to read a little before I tried to go back to sleep. Every night, I read my bible and then something else before I eventually drift off to sleep. Right now, I’m reading Something Wonderful, by Judith McNaught. It’s a historical romance, one of my favorite genres. Don’t judge. 

Anyway, I took some NyQuil last night and I got sleepy reading my bible and drifted off before I could finish the chapter or even start on my fluffy book. If you want to know the truth I might have done this because I watched television too long. First, it was an episode of 48 Hours and then The Office. I love true crime and comedies. Sometimes I wonder about myself. 

So, when I opened up my iPad at 5:30, instead of my fluffy book, there was my bible, right where I drifted off. I think God saved it for when I was awake so I wouldn’t miss it.

Now, I usually just read the New Testament but I had decided that I was going to read through the Old Testament too, finally. I’ve tried to do it over the years but I’ve always given up by the time I got midway through Exodus. The descriptions of the curtains, colors, types of wood and such of the tabernacle was just too much. I felt bad but not bad enough to keep reading. Well, here I am again and, believe it or not, I’ve made it to the book of Numbers. What?!

So, having said all that, here is what I read that made me smile and warm all over. God was talking to Moses and telling him to tell Aaron, as the priest, to tell the people of Israel the following…

The Lord bless you and keep you;

The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;

The Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.  

Wow! I sure don’t deserve it, but I’ll take it and be thankful for it. 

I love to go where everybody knows my name. Church, not the bar. Ha-ha! But sometimes I look to the things of this world to give me happiness, joy, and peace.  They do. They do give me joy like buying a new outfit or going on vacation. But have you ever noticed how it doesn’t last? You’re thinking, what’s next?  

I’m ashamed to say that when life is going my way and everything is hunky dory, I don’t have as much time for God. Tomorrow I’ll pray more. Tomorrow I’ll spend more time with God. Tomorrow I’ll read an extra chapter but right now I’m going to watch a few more TikTok videos. Yesterday I watched the most hilarious video of these two ladies on church television singing, “The Devil’s in the phone booth calling 9-1-1.”  That’s just gold.

Well, God is always there when you come back. He’s there when you need him and he’s there when you think you don’t need him. His son died for you and his spirit abides in you. The relationship you have with him is what gives you peace and joy and it’s always there, waiting on you, even when you’ve turned your back on him. Yesterday is forgotten and today is full of promise. 

Thank you, God. Thank you for loving me when I don’t deserve it. Thank you for sending your son to pay for my sins when he didn’t deserve it. Thank you for your spirit that is within me, always. 

As Lauren walked the foggy streets of downtown Bristol, she realized that her head was as unclear as the mist in front of her face. The haze was so dense that she couldn’t read the ‘Bristol’ sign ahead of her, even though it was well lit with thousands of tiny light bulbs, creating a glow in the late morning sky. Is that where she was headed? Photos of happier times kept popping in her head. Photos of Ryan kissing her in front of the sign, one hand holding his phone while his arm was wrapped around her neck, holding her close as he kissed her cheek. She had never been happier. She thought Ryan was the perfect guy, until he wasn’t. She thought he could do no wrong, until he did. She thought he loved her, but it was all just a lie.  Ryan wasn’t perfect. Ryan was a cruel, unscrupulous, and dead to her.

Lauren stopped on the sidewalk and began to mentally shake her head, trying to clear it of all things Ryan.  She practically jumped out of her skin when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.  A tiny, older lady was looking at her with concern in her face. “Are you okay, dear?”

Lauren closed her eyes and clenched her fists, shaking her head. “No. I am not okay.”  She looked at the kind face staring back at her.  “It’s been a horrible day.”

“My name is Ruth.  Will you have a cup of coffee with me?  I think you need a friend right now.”

Lauren nodded while Ruth took her arm and they walked into one of the newly renovated downtown restaurants.  They found a small table and ordered coffee from the server.  While they waited on their drinks, Ruth smiled.  “If we’re going to be friends, I think I need to know your name.”

“Lauren.”

Ruth’s hand went to her chest. “What a coincidence! My granddaughter’s name is Lauren.”  She opened her purse and began to search through its contents. “I’ve got a picture of her in here somewhere. You actually remind me of her.”  Before she could produce a picture, the server came back with the coffee. Lauren added milk and sugar to her drink, stirring absently, while Ruth did the same.  The picture forgotten; Ruth looked at Lauren with alarm.  “You’re as pale as a ghost. Is there anyone I can call for you?”

Lauren shook her head adamantly and whispered, “No.”  Tears that she had been holding back, began to spill down her cheeks. Seeing the kindness and care on Ruth’s face was all it took for the anguish to spill out.  “I have no one. Not now. He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone, dear?”

Lauren gasped and then put her fist to her mouth.  “Ryan’s gone. I thought he loved me.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Ruth placed her hand on top of Lauren’s. “Is that your husband or boyfriend?”

Lauren sniffed. “He’s my, I mean he was my boyfriend.”  Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I thought we were going to get married.  He was the love of my life, and I don’t know how I’ll go on without him.”

Ruth patted her hand and then took a sip of her coffee.  “I know it may seem like the end of the world, but sweetheart, one day you’ll look back and wonder why you ever wasted one tear on him.”  Before she could say anything else, her phone began ringing in her purse, but she ignored it. “My granddaughter is also in a relationship. I can see that although she loves him, she’s not happy. She thinks he’s seeing someone else. I told her to listen to her intuition.”  Ruth shook her head. “Time is too precious and there are too many good men out there to waste on one that is not faithful.” Ruth smiled. “My Henry was a good man and the love of my life.  He died two years ago, and I miss him terribly.”

Lauren took her napkin and wiped under her eyes.  “How long were you married?”

Ruth looked thoughtful. “We married in 1959. I was only 18 years old, and he was on leave from the Navy. We had just celebrated our 62^nd wedding anniversary before he passed.”

“Were you always happy?”

Ruth chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t say that we were always happy. We had our ups and downs like most married people but, the love we had for each other always brought us back together through all the disagreements and misunderstandings.”  Looking sheepish, Ruth smiled. “I’ll tell you something I’ve never told another soul.”  Before she could continue, Ruth’s phone began ringing but once again, she ignored it. She talked softly so no one else could hear. “I actually left Henry when we had only been married a couple of years. He had gone out after leaving the ship one night, to a bar with some of his buddies.  He came home a little drunk with lipstick on his cheek.”  Ruth shook her head. “Well, I had a fit and accused him of all kinds of misdeeds.  I packed my suitcase and went to a motel on the outskirts of town.  I stayed there for two days, and nobody knew where I was.  There was a man staying next door. He was traveling on business.” 

Lauren noticed a faraway look in Ruth’s bright blue eyes.  Surely Ruth and this traveling businessman didn’t have an affair. 

“By the time I got home, Henry was beside himself with worry. He couldn’t apologize enough and promised me that nothing had happened. The girl that had kissed his cheek was the wife of one of his friends.  He said she left lipstick on all his friend’s cheeks that night.” 

Dabbing her mouth with a napkin, Ruth asked, “Do you want to talk about your Ryan?  Did you break up because he cheated on you?”

Lauren hesitated. “I actually caught him in bed with another girl.”

Ruth’s eyes grew round, and her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness.”

Lauren stood up. “Look, you’re really sweet but I know you have better things to do than listen to my sad story.  You go on with the rest of your day but please know how much I appreciate you.”

Ruth motioned for Lauren to sit back down.  “Now, I don’t have to be anywhere until my doctor’s appointment at 2:30.”  Ruth looked at her watch. “I don’t have a thing to do until then so sit back down.”  Ruth smiled. “Sometimes, all it takes is to talk about it and it makes you feel so much better.

Lauren hesitated, and then slowly sat back down.  “Okay, if, you’re sure.” 

Ruth relaxed and took another sip of her coffee.  “Of course, I’m sure. You need a friend. I may be a lot older than you, but you can tell me anything. I won’t judge you and I won’t give you any advice unless you ask for it.”

Lauren took a deep breath. “I met Ryan in college. He was the most handsome man I had ever met.  He had these gorgeous brown eyes with long sooty eyelashes.  His hair was so dark, it was almost black.”  Lauren smiled just remembering their first encounter. “He actually winked at me when he held the door open to our Economics classroom. I was hooked right then. He found me in the hallway after class and asked me to go to lunch with him. There were no awkward moments; we hit it off as if we had known each other all of our lives. I knew, I knew right away that we would be together always.” 

Lauren stopped, realizing that she had rambled on.  Ruth had such an encouraging look on her face, so Lauren continued her saga. “Things were perfect, actually too perfect. Ryan knew of my past. He knew I had been abandoned as a baby and that my adoptive parents were not the best or most ideal people. He knew of my insecurities and my faults, but he loved me anyway. Or at least, I thought he did.”

Ruth took the opportunity to wave at the server for a refill when Lauren paused. After both cups were filled with steaming black coffee, Lauren continued. “Of course, there were moments when we would argue but I thought it was just normal, nothing to worry about. I tried to brush the nagging feeling that things weren’t exactly right when Ryan suddenly seemed distant and distracted.”

Lauren closed her eyes, and her fingers pinched the bridge between her nose. “I realized I had left my cell phone at Ryan’s apartment this morning, so I decided to go and get it.” Lauren covered her mouth and looked at Ruth with absolute anguish in her eyes. “I walked in the apartment. There was soft music playing in the bedroom, which was unusual because Ryan was supposed to be at work.” Lauren sobbed. “I opened the door and there they were.” Lauren was gasping, trying to catch her breath.

Ruth looked at Lauren with pity. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”  She shook her head. “You can cry. Just let it out.”

Lauren’s tears began falling in earnest. “I stood there in shock. This girl was in Ryan’s bed and in his arms. I lost it.” Lauren wiped her eyes, sobbing softly.

Ruth’s phone began ringing again. “I don’t know who this is. Let me make sure it’s not an emergency.”  Ruth fished in her purse for the phone. Once she found it, she looked at it with concern. “It’s my daughter. Let me check the voicemail she left.” 

Lauren watched Ruth’s eyes grow wide with alarm. She reassured her and said, “Go ahead and call her. It’s okay.”

Ruth nodded. “Yes, it sounds important.”

Ruth’s daughter began talking as soon as the call went through and the longer she talked, the paler Ruth became, until she was almost as white as a ghost. Lauren became concerned for her new friend, fearing she would pass out, so she got up and walked around the small table. As Ruth ended the call, she slumped forward, her forehead against the table. 

Lauren put her arms around her. “What is it, Ruth? What’s wrong?”

Ruth finally looked up, her eyes red and bleak, as if the life had gone out of them. She whispered, “It’s my granddaughter, she’s…she’s been murdered.”

Lauren’s eyes grew wide, and she covered her mouth. “What?”

Ruth picked up her purse. “My son-in-law is on his way to take me home. I have to leave.”

Lauren stood speechless, not knowing what to do or say. “Let me help you, Ruth. You’ve been so kind to me, let me help you now.” 

Ruth nodded. Lauren left some cash on the table and helped Ruth to her feet and walked her outside, where they waited for her ride. Lauren could see that her friend was in shock, but she tried to comfort her anyway. “I’m so sorry, Ruth. Do you know what happened?”

Ruth spoke as if in a daze. “She had gone to her boyfriend’s apartment, and someone broke in and stabbed them both.  Lauren is dead but her boyfriend is in an induced coma. They don’t think he’ll make it.”

Lauren gasped. She held on to Ruth until her ride came and then helped her into the car. Lauren began walking aimlessly down the sidewalk, trying to clear her racing thoughts. Somehow, she made it back to her car and unlocked the door. She was cold, so she turned the heat on high, noticing the spots of blood on the console. Taking a disinfectant wipe from the can laying on the passenger seat, she wiped it clean.

She thought of Ryan and Lauren, Ruth’s granddaughter, tangled in gray sheets, covered in blood. Was it a coincidence that she ran into Lauren’s grandmother today?

She warned Ryan. He knew what she was capable of. Why didn’t he listen to her?

Lauren began driving down the street, under the ‘Bristol’ sign that claimed that it was a ‘good place to live.’ Lauren would miss this sweet small town, and the people, people like Ruth.

Photo credit: Elaina Raines

Many people get depressed around the holidays. This was my first Christmas without my daddy. I miss him. Period. The whole month of December is so busy that I kind of find it hard to be too depressed. It’s go-go-go all month long. I think it’s depressing when you pack up all the Christmas decorations like the funny reindeer my son, Sam, made when he was little with the red nose in the wrong place or the evil looking snowman Adam, my oldest son, made in middle school. I’ll also miss the twinkling Christmas lights, my husband, Kenny spent so much time hanging up. We don’t have much traffic on our road so not many people get to see them. I’m sure the people that do see the lights appreciate them.

After New Year’s, I put everything in bins and then Kenny, takes them out to the barn, hoping the stink bugs don’t get in them. We have to cover everything with a tarp because carpenter bees love the old wood in the barn. During the spring they’re buzzing like crazy and making a mess in the process. It looks like there’s a sawmill running in the barn with all that dust.

Personally, I think January is more depressing, but I still enjoy some aspects of it.  December is so busy that by the time January gets here, you’re worn out and want to just sit on the couch and watch television.  Thankfully, we do get to enjoy some warm days, here and there, in between the rain, ice, and snow.  That’s my favorite time to walk around on the farm.  The creeks are swollen and running like crazy, the pond is extra full and there are more waterfalls coming off the mountains.  You also don’t have to worry about getting hot or swatting mosquitos. 

I love to sit by the warm fire during the winter, but I don’t like all the extra work.  Having a wood-burning stove keeps you real busy.  Kenny usually brings the wood from the woodshed and parks it in a wheelbarrow on the porch.  I’m usually in charge of emptying the ashes, cleaning the glass, and getting up at night to feed the stove.  I’m looking forward to the nights I don’t have to get up.  The stove is a necessity with this old house.  It’s a little drafty and hard to heat but on the bright side, it does seem cooler in the summer.  Sometimes, I’m cold and so bundled up with extra layers, that when I go outside, I’m surprised if it’s warm. It takes the house awhile to catch up.

The chickens usually don’t come out of their pen too much during the winter unless it warms up.  We lost a cow last winter.  It was cold and snowy, and she was on a hill.  It was so slippery that she couldn’t stand up after slipping. Sally, my duck, doesn’t mind the cold weather too much.  She’ll get in the icy creek and bob her head in and out of the water like it’s nothing.  

We’ve got lots of porches at the farmhouse and they can be a pain, trying to keep them clean. During the warmer weather, spiders and wasps must think it’s the perfect spot to build their homes. During the summer, it’s all I can do to keep the mildew wiped down. You’d think that wintertime would be less work, but you’d be wrong. The birds like to roost on the porches during the winter. I like birds but they poop. A lot! I’m not a fan of cleaning it up, especially when it’s cold outside. Sometimes it won’t come up. By the time I have to resort to scraping it up I’m mad. I have to say, that when the porches are clean and it’s pleasant outside, there’s no better place to drink your coffee, read a book or just enjoy the day.

The dreary January month will end eventually, and then, like my grandmother always said, February is a short month. By the time spring gets here, you appreciate it so much more than if it was nice all the time. Everything will be fresh and new again and then I’ll be complaining about the heat.

My daddy was a quiet man.  He wasn’t a talker and we often spent time together watching television in silence.  Of course, it was always a western.  Sometimes I’ll watch a Western movie or television show just because it gives me a peaceful feeling, like I did when I was with daddy.  I can still hear the soundtrack to “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.”  Whistle… whaa whaa whaa!  Ennio Morricone was a genius.

I also like to listen to old country music too, like Marty Robbins, Ray Price and Johnny Horton.  I can remember our old stereo that was as big as a dresser, where daddy would play his records and 8-track tapes.  We have old home movies of my brother and I dancing in our underwear.  You couldn’t hear the audio, but I can just imagine the words to the songs playing…

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl
Nighttime would find me in Rosa’s cantina
Music would play and Felina would whirl

 Or

In 1814, we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip’
We took a little bacon, and we took a little beans
And we caught the bloody British in the town of New Orleans

We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin’
There wasn’t as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they began to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico

 

I can just imagine him smiling and enjoying the music.  When I was little, he always had a cigarette in one hand and a Pabst Blue Ribbon in the other.  He rarely got drunk, that I saw, but if he did have too much, he would always tell me how much he loved me and how he was sorry that he didn’t tell me enough (how much he loved me.)  I guess that worried him for some reason.  

Daddy could fix anything.  He was very handy around the house and mama never thought to call a repairman for anything because if it was broken, daddy could fix it.  He loved his tools and had two or 10 of everything. I think he kept the Mac tool truck in business when he worked at Blue Ridge Kenworth.  He wouldn’t think of buying a new shirt, but he would buy every kind of hammer or wrench that was available, along with a fancy knife or two.

He also loved NASCAR and got a big kick out of it when someone said he looked like Dale Earnhardt.  I also thought he looked like Sonny Bono when he let his hair grow longer.  One time my aunt Eula gave him a perm.  We laughed and laughed.  He loved jeans and shirts with pockets in them.  The pockets always came in handy, earlier in his life for his cigarettes and later for pens or a receipt or something.

After daddy and mama divorced, he pursued another passion of his, cooking. My daddy was a great cook. Some of his signature dishes included chili, omelets, Mexican cornbread and chocolate chip cake. He often stayed with his mother in Florida because she was showing signs of dementia. He would often cook for her except when they went to Taco Bell to get a taco salad, which was her obsession. Daddy said sometimes she would forget she had it at lunch and she wanted it again for dinner. Daddy was sick of Taco Bell. He would sometimes tell me, “If I ever get in such a shape, just shoot me.”

Granny lived until she was almost 98 and by that time daddy was showing signs of dementia too.  He was beginning to repeat himself, which I find myself doing now.  It’s scary when you know what is coming because I’ve seen what my daddy went through until his death in March 2022.  At first, it’s just little things.  You forget who and what you’ve already told people.  You often hear, “Yeah, you already told me that.” But that’s nothing.  Seeing my daddy with that blank look in his eyes.  That’s the worst.  When he doesn’t even know his own daughter?  That’s pretty bad too.  He told me once that he felt like his head was going to explode.  I saw the scared look in his eyes, and it broke my heart.

Dementia is a horrible disease but also unpredictable.  Just when I thought daddy was completely gone, he would surprise me.  I would tell him I loved him, and he would look at me and say, “Well, I love you too.”  You often hear about people’s whole personality changing.  That never happened with him.  He was always sweet and kind, even until the end.  My stepmother, Evelyn, took such loving care of him.  Even after he moved to a nursing home, she was always there.  She loved him dearly and I was so thankful for that.  She also helped him to finally make that decision to be saved and baptized when he was 81.  Daddy grew up in the Church of Christ.  He knew the bible and had read it many times, but something always held him back.  I don’t know what demons he wrestled with or why it was so hard for him but better late than never.

Just before he died, one of the staff members shaved his mustache and goatee. When I saw him in his casket at the funeral, I was disturbed because it didn’t look like my daddy. I remember seeing him once in my whole life without a mustache. I was a little girl, and I didn’t like it. Children don’t want their parents to change. They find comfort in the sameness and predictability. Getting older is inevitable but it doesn’t mean we have to like it. As daddy used to say, “Getting old ain’t for sissies.”

I know at one time daddy had the same feelings I have now.  Is it happening to me?  When I voice my fears and concerns, my husband tells me, “Don’t worry, I won’t know what’s going on either.”  As with most people, I want to be independent.  I don’t want my children to have to take care of me.  If I have to go to a nursing home at some point, that’s okay too.  I know that whatever happens, it’s my personality to make the best of any situation.  I won’t mope and cry and I hope I always have a smile on my face.  

One thing I do know is that whatever happens, God will take care of me. Because of Jesus, I have comfort in knowing that good things await me when I die or when Jesus returns. This life is just a moment in time compared to eternity in Heaven.

My Great-Grandpa Wiley Viers was a furniture maker in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s.  I own one of his dressers.  I feel so honored, knowing that he cut every piece, sanded every corner, and nailed every precious nail.  He probably worked in the light of a dim oil lamp and in a dark barn. He was a farmer by day and a furniture maker by night. What was he thinking at that time in his life when he made that dresser? What were his hopes and dreams? Does he know that his great-granddaughter cherishes this very special piece of furniture and somehow feels connected to him?

 

The last time I remember seeing Grandpa Wiley was when I was a little girl. He was dying and confined to a bed. I never really spent much time with him growing up, but I felt as if I knew him from all the stories my grandmother Lessie told me about him. His wife died when she was young leaving him with a house full of children. My grandmother was only five years old when her mother died. Can you just imagine how devastated he was, wondering how he would be able to take care of his children without his best friend, his beloved wife, Louisa? I can just imagine him going to his workshop to hang his head and cry where nobody could see him. I’m sure that his loss was overwhelming but all he could do was keep his feelings buried deep inside, determined to stay strong for his family because that was the way of men back then. 

 

My grandmother always talked about how hard he worked. He made sure his children had everything they needed and most importantly, he kept them all together. He was a man of faith and integrity. His children looked at him with awe and respect. He made sure his children always remembered what a great mother they had and how he would never find another like her.

 

My dresser isn’t perfect, not by a long shot. Some of the drawers do not shut properly. The glass shows its age, with flecks of silver peeping through. There’s a large crack running across the top where the wood doesn’t meet. I’m not sure what kind of wood he used but it’s extremely heavy. Are these imperfections why the dresser was not sold for money that would help a struggling family? To me, the imperfections are what make it special. It shows me he was an imperfect man doing the best he could. 

 

I always wondered about the history of this dresser. Where did he keep it in his house? Was it in a bedroom, a kitchen or family area? My grandmother gave it to my uncle Garry. My uncle stripped the many layers of paint and gave it to my mother. My mother gave it to me many years ago.  The only thing I have done is replace the old wire handles with some brass handles I found in an antique store in Jonesborough, Tennessee. 

 

I hope that the next owner will treasure this furniture as much as I have.

I can’t believe in two months it will be October, one of my favorite months.  Mama is not a fan of fall like I am.  She says she’s more like Grandma.  Mama believes (as Grandma did) that fall brings winter, the most horrible time of the year.  It brings the dreaded drearies of cold, death, and depression.  It does sound ominous if you think of it that way but I don’t think of it that way.  Can you curl up on a couch under your favorite blanket with a hot mug of coffee or tea in the summer?  Can you sit by a warm fire in the summer?  Can you bring out your favorite sweaters in the summer?  Can you go two minutes without sweating and swatting mosquitoes?  No!

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy spring and a little bit of summer.  I just wish that summer lasted about a month and that’s it.  Just end it right there but sometimes it doesn’t want to end.  That dad gum global warming.  Ugh!  If Jesus doesn’t come back soon, everybody’s gonna think that we all got left behind and we’re in the bad place.  It won’t be ‘hot as Hades’ anymore; it will be it’s ‘hot in Hades.’

I love the colors of autumn. Autumn just sounds cooler to say so I’m not going to say fall anymore. I love the smell of autumn. I love the spices of autumn. I absolutely love the cool crispness of autumn, especially since I began going through the change and my body stays about 150 degrees. I’m on the hormones but I still get hot. One of the ladies at church told me, “One of these days, you’ll wish you were hot because eventually you’ll feel like an iceberg all the time.” If that happens, I’ll just put an extra sweater on.

After autumn, comes winter, the special time of Christmas.  Don’t you just love Christmas? It’s wonderful when you start thinking about the baking (until you’re knee deep in baking and your back is tired) and the gift giving (until you’re broke and you don’t know what to buy).  The anticipation of Christmas is so magical.  I’m not so crazy that I start listening to Christmas music in October but I do look forward to it in December.  Kenny and I go all out putting up Christmas decorations ­– not that we have much traffic on our road.  I’m sure the dairy farm trucks appreciate it when they’re hauling cow poop to the fields.

I have great memories of Christmas, like going to grandma’s and seeing her Christmas tree in the couch.  Yes, she put it in the loveseat.  It was a sight.  She had a small living room and well, there was no place else to put it.  She did remove the cushions first.  

I love spending time with my family.  My aunt Sandy likes to have everyone over for Thanksgiving and sometimes Christmas too.  She gets mad at Uncle Jerry because there’s always a piece of pie missing before anyone even gets to her house.  We all know he ate it.  We all know he couldn’t wait but we just laugh because that’s just Jerry.  Mama always brings the spiral ham and I always bring the cranberry salad.  When Aunt Betty was alive, she always brought the banana pudding and a whole bunch of Tupperware for leftovers. She always thought ahead.

After, with our bellies full, we would play the card game, 31.  Now that’s a hoot.  Somebody years ago changed the rules a little bit.  Instead of starting out with three quarters, we start out with four and when you’re left with one quarter, you’re on the welfare or “on the draw” as we liked to say.  Now some of you know that I have a big laugh, but my Aunt Betty had an even bigger laugh.  If you had a good hand you would knock and then everyone would have one more turn.  She would say things like, “I’m putting my knockers on the table now.” 

My mama hates snow but I still get excited like I’m going to get to stay home from school. Wasn’t that a great feeling when you were young? One time when the boys were little we had a big snow and they made an igloo fort in the back yard. Everything was fine and dandy until Max, our dog, decided to poop in it. Max was a mess. He got confused one Christmas and peed on the Christmas tree (on grandma’s present which was house shoes). I guess he was just excited to see a tree in the house.

All this talk about Christmas and cooler weather is getting me so excited! Hopefully I can wait and not get too impatient. I know I’m supposed to enjoy the moment so I’ll do my best.

Rainbows sometimes occur after it rains. Light passes through the water droplets; they refract and expose the seven colors of white light. They don’t appear every time it rains so when you see one, it’s such a wondrous sight. I can definitely say that most everyone gets excited when they see a rainbow. I certainly do and when I see one I always think of God’s promises.

I hope everyone knows that I’m a Christian. God didn’t save me just for me to keep it to myself. My number one job as a Christian is to give everyone the opportunity to have everlasting life. I feel like I’ve failed so many times. I really think that we’re seeing the end of times and soon it will be too late. Kenny Chesney’s sings, “Everybody wanna go to heaven, it beats the other place there ain’t no doubt, Everybody wanna go to heaven But nobody wanna go now.”

The only thing holy about me is my underwear, especially if it’s a favorite pair and I’m not quite ready to get rid of them. I go to church but I know that’s not what gets me into heaven. I go because I love the fellowship of other Christians that love me and pray for me and so that I can hear their needs and pray for them as well. I love to learn more about Jesus than what I can discern from reading the Bible myself. I tithe not because I think that God would be angry if I didn’t but because in my church they use the money for missions and helping others. That’s what Jesus wants us to do above all else besides love God; to love our neighbors. By helping them it shows our love. Don’t get me wrong, I fail miserably at this a lot. I’m stingy with my time and money because I don’t have much of it.

The overturning of Roe Vs. Wade has really bothered me. I’m not about to rejoice in other people’s pain. I hate abortion and the thought of the practice of taking a baby’s life up until birth blows my mind. I wish we had more counseling for mother’s because I know there have been a lot of regrets and what ifs. I don’t want to judge anyone and ask myself, would I adopt that baby or why haven’t I fostered or adopted a child? I haven’t because I’m selfish. Again, I have failed miserably. I do think that abortion has become a political game and some people in office probably don’t care one way or the other.

I don’t have the answers but I do try to live right and be a good person, which is not going to get me into heaven either. The only way is by accepting Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior. The Holy Spirit tries to guide me. Sometimes I listen and sometimes I don’t (unfortunately). I’m trying to be painfully honest here. I do think that being kind can have a domino effect, as well as being unkind.

I think that people should have a right to protect themselves but I also think owning a gun is a privilege. A person should prove themselves worthy and responsible. I don’t understand why someone can buy an assault rifle, no questions asked. That’s just asking for trouble one way or the other and there’s been a lot of trouble lately. I took a gun class a few years ago but I never purchased a gun. I don’t feel comfortable with a gun and probably couldn’t shoot a person even if my life was threatened. I should have taken a defense class instead and learned how to punch a person’s eyeballs out. If someone grabbed me in the Wal-Mart parking lot (which is what mama is always afraid of) I need to learn what to do.

Jesus, the disciples and the Apostle Paul have given us all a guide to living right in the New Testament, which is basically a lot of common sense. Unfortunately, we fail a lot but that’s okay because we’re human and our basic nature is to sin but God loves us anyway, and he loves us more than we could ever comprehend. If we do wrong, and we’re truly sorry, God will forgive us. I like to say I don’t judge anyone and that’s up to God, but of course sometimes I am a little judgy. I admit it.

I was reading in Romans 13 last night and Paul was saying that we should obey the government and obey the police officers; that there isn’t any government anywhere that God hasn’t placed. I had to wonder about that one but everyone has a purpose and we don’t always see that purpose but God does. Paul also said that policemen do not frighten anyone doing right but those doing evil will always fear them. I’m sure that there are some evil and corrupt police officers but most are just trying to do their job and what a hard job it is; what with people being on drugs and up to a lot of shenanigans. I’m sure it would be helpful if they could read minds and know how that person is going to react but they can’t. I do know that if the citizens respected the authorities as well as the authorities respecting the citizens there would be no problem. Common sense; right? Unfortunately, we don’t all have (as my mama use to say) the sense God gave a goose.

There are a lot of things going on today that the Bible plainly states are wrong. I’m not going to get into all of that. As Jesus said, don’t look at the speck in your brother’s eye, worry about the beam in your own eye. We’re all guilty of something BUT if we ask Jesus into our hearts, and follow his two most important commandments the rest will all come together for good. So, if you don’t know Jesus, ask me, ask someone to help you and don’t wait! I want you to go to heaven with me. I want you to have the same opportunity to have everlasting life. God is so good. I couldn’t imagine not having His love, and guidance and presence in my life. He never fails me and I’m so thankful for his love. I want everyone to have that same relationship. If I didn’t tell y’all about this free gift then that would be the most selfish act of my life. The choice is yours now. If you’re reading this and you haven’t been saved, I hope and pray that you accept this very precious gift that’s available to EVERYONE. God knows you and loves you and wants you no matter what you’ve done. Yesterday is already forgotten.

All you have to do is admit you’re a sinner.  We all are sinners and can’t save ourselves.  God came to this earth and was born from Mary, a virgin.  Jesus lived and then died for you on a cross to pay for your sin and rose from the grave three days later.  We are saved through faith!  If you want this (it’s your choice because we all have free will) pray to God right now and admit to Him that you are a sinner and believe in Jesus Christ.  Now tell me or someone and don’t keep it to yourself!    

 

I was talking to my youngest son, Sam, the other day and I told him I had named one of my new chicks Suzanne Sugarbaker. He didn’t know who I was talking about, so I mentioned the show, Designing Women. He was still clueless. I said, “You know, the one with Annie Potts.” He said, “Who’s that?” I said, “She was the secretary in Ghost Busters.” I know Annie Potts has done a lot of things but that was just the first thing that popped in my head. The show came out in 1986 (he was born in 1989) so I guess he really couldn’t have remembered it and unfortunately, you don’t see it much in the many re-runs like, for example, Roseanne. I did like that show when it came out and I usually always watched it but now when it comes on I immediately turn the channel because I can’t stand to hear the music. I’m not quite sure why I cringe when I hear that intro (harmonica?) but cringe is what I do. There were some shows that I watched that have great music intros, like Newart. That music gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling of nostalgia but the show isn’t as good as I remembered. But I digress.

I really enjoyed watching the show Designing Women.  I liked the cast of characters, the southern premise, and the basic humor of everyday drama.  Kind of reminds me of working in a school, as I did for years, with so many women and a man thrown in here and there.  I watched the speech the other day of Julia Sugarbaker (played by Dixie Carter) talking about her sister Suzanne’s many pageant attributes.  Remember how she had that halting speech?  “And that…Marjorie…just so you will know…and your children will someday know…is the night…the lights…went out in…Geor….gia.”  It still gives me chills.

I loved Bernice (played by Alice Ghostley), the eccentric friend of the Sugarbakers’ mother.  You know how southern people say that they don’t hide their crazy; they put them on the porch and show them off?  Bernice sort of reminded me of that.  Charlene was so sweet and ditzy that when I saw Jean Smart playing another, more serious role, I was really thrown off kilter.  What?!  

I have always loved Annie Potts in every part she’s ever played, but I loved to see her wild hair as she played Mary Jo.  (I’ve always envied naturally curly hair)  She had the cutest outfits and she was so funny, talking about her kids and how she entertained them by spraying them with a garden hose in the garage.  Delta Burke was so beautiful but plagued by weight issues.  I loved it when Suzanne and Anthony (Meshach Taylor) had scenes together.  The episode where they were stuck in the hotel room,during a snowstorm, was hilarious.  She had him doing everything her maid would have done, like putting rollers in her wig.

I love a good comedy and I love to laugh but I just don’t get a lot of the new shows on television.  I don’t know if it’s the writing but I’m just not as engaged and I don’t find it very humorous.  Other shows/movies that I have enjoyed that were mostly women were Golden Girls, Mom (although it got a bit too raunchy (for me) sometimes), and Steel Magnolias (some of the accents were a bit over the top).  Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t always have to be women.  One of my favorite shows of all time is Seinfeld.  It’s kind of funny what makes one person laugh and another not so much.  Mama doesn’t get Seinfeld and she is not amused by it.

Daddy liked funny movies like Blazing Saddles.  He was crazy about westerns whether it was a movie or a television show.  We would often watch westerns together and that’s when I fell in love with Clint Eastwood.  He was so handsome and tough.  He still makes movies and he’s really old but he’s still tough.  I guess when you write and direct you can be who you want to be.  

When my boys were teenagers, we would often watch Seinfeld together. We still send funny Seinfeld memes to each other. My bestie, Becky, is also a fan of Seinfeld. We find that sort of humor hilarious and often bring it up in everyday conversation. When dark eyebrows became “the thing” awhile back, we remembered Uncle Leo and laughed and laughed. See pic below.

I’m still hoping for a new show to come out that I like. We just got internet at the farm (gasp!) so maybe I’ll have more opportunities to search around. If it becomes political (especially a comedy or comedian), odds are I’ll turn it off. I’m not interested…that’s just me.