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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.

This blog will be my last and the hardest to write.  When Adam was in 2nd grade, we decided to move back to Bristol.  I just got it in my head that I wanted to be closer to mama and daddy.  I felt this urgency and I didn’t know why but I would soon find out.  We sold our house in Fall Branch and bought a house in Bristol, Tennessee.  We found a cute Ranch style house in Redstone that was perfect for us.  We loved the house and we loved the neighborhood.  Adam and Sam would be attending Holston View school and things couldn’t have been more perfect, until they weren’t.

My life had been so busy with getting married and having babies that I hadn’t paid attention to what had been happening in my parent’s lives.  They had been growing apart and I was oblivious.  When mama came to me and told me that they were separating I was dumfounded.  They had been married for 34 years and the thought never even crossed my mind.  I was devastated and our lives would change forever.  The family would never be the same again.  

​I know that divorce is hard on children at any age but as an adult it felt like a death in the family.  I’ll never forget calling my husband, who was in Indianapolis covering the NASCAR race.  I had always tried to make life easy for Kenny, since I stayed at home and he worked so hard.  I never wanted him to worry about anything while he was traveling but let me tell you, I called him bawling and had him all torn up.  I knew my mother was hurting and on the verge of a nervous breakdown so I was trying to comfort her and protect her.  I was also trying to help daddy because he was devastated.  If I hadn’t had my faith to lean on, I would have fallen deep and given up.  With God’s help, I picked myself up and made the choice of making the best of it.  I loved my parents, flaws and all, and would always be there for them, no matter what.   

​As with anything, you learn to move on and adapt.  Mama remarried to Tom.  Marrying into such a close family had to be hard but Tom welcomed us with open arms and never tried to come between us.  As mama always told him, we were a package deal and thankfully he accepted that.  Tom treats my brother and I like we were his own children.  My mama is very fierce when it comes to her children and her grandchildren.  We have a very close relationship, and I don’t know what I would do without her.  She’s my biggest fan and supporter and would walk through fire to protect me.  

​Daddy had a rough time when they divorced.  He eventually married Mary.  I can’t say if he was happy.  Daddy was very private and kept his emotions hidden as best he could.  Sadly, Mary developed a very aggressive form of Alzheimer’s and died.  But, good times were ahead for daddy.  Before he had ever met mama, he met Evelyn.  He was in the Navy at the time and was on leave.  His good friend, Buford, introduced daddy to his sister at a Sadie Hawkins dance.  They fell in love and daddy asked her to marry him and she said yes.   Unfortunately, he had orders to go to Africa for 2 years.  Evelyn was only 18 and I’m sure 2 years seemed like a lifetime so the engagement didn’t last and she ended up marrying someone else.  

Buford called daddy one day (after Mary passed) and told him Evelyn’s husband had died and that he should call her.  Bless Buford’s heart.  Daddy called her and within a few short months they were married.  Daddy told me he felt like a teenager again.  He was so happy.  

​Evelyn has been such a blessing in my life.  Seeing the love between her and my daddy did nothing but bring me joy.  She loved him dearly and when he began showing signs of Alzheimer’s she took care of him with such love, until March 22 when he passed.  Remember when I said that daddy didn’t like to show his emotions?  As he got older that completely changed; he couldn’t tell you I love you enough.  He was the sweetest, kindest and most loving father you could ever have.  

This is the end of my blog. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading and thank you for all the kind comments. God bless you all.

When Adam was a little over a year old, Larry sold IHRA.  They moved the sanctioning body to Waco, Texas.  I did not want to move to Texas so I applied for a job at the old Dominion Bank.  I was a bank teller.  Back then there were a lot of tellers and the bank was always busy.  It was a lot of fun but boy did we dread the first of the month and Fridays.  This was long before direct deposit and we had a lot of people coming in to cash their checks.  There were a few folks that apparently only came to town once a month.  

Every night before we closed, once we had balanced, we would take our cash and put it in the safe.  We had bundles of bound cash in our bottom drawer that also went into the safe.  One Monday morning I came bee bopping in, went to my teller station opened the drawer and there it was, my bound money.  Apparently I forgot to take it to the vault the previous Friday.  These drawers are not locked so anyone could have opened it up and then I would have been hosed.  My eyes grew wide, I looked from side to side to see if anyone was looking and then carefully slid the drawer back in its place.  I said a prayer of thanks that day.  

We were supposed to ask for identification if someone needed money out of their account or if they needed to cash a check (if you didn’t recognize them).  Some people would get very offended if you asked for ID which always baffled me.  One elderly man got so mad at me one time he had me in tears.  One fella, who was very rich and owned a car dealership in town, would order money to be made like a pad so he could peel one bill off at a time.   

​Bev Sharrett was the head teller and always a lot of fun.  She got pregnant, and before you knew it, almost the whole teller line was pregnant, including me.  There was either something in the water or we all had baby fever.  Kenny and I decided that once our new baby was born, I would quit work and stay at home.  I began having contractions about six months along so my doctor put me on Terbutaline again and I had a pretty non-eventful pregnancy.  Sam was born on a Saturday, November 18, 1989, again by cesarean.  He weighed 7.5 pounds and was 19 ½ inches long.

​Having a newborn and a two and half year old wasn’t easy.  I didn’t realize how easy I had it with just Adam.  Adam loved to go places and he was always so easy but Sam, not so much.  He decided he didn’t like the car seat when he was a baby and cried as soon as you put him in it.  Adam was a little jealous too, which is understandable since he had had all of my attention before his brother was born.  

​Since our family was growing, we decided to buy a bigger house and looked for something closer to Kingsport, where Kenny worked.  We bought a huge house in Fall Branch.  It had been on the market for awhile, probably because it was so stinky.  The boys loved it because it had this huge unfinished room where we had most of their toys which they called the “Big Room”.  We were out in the country but we had the sweetest neighbors that lived across the street, Leonard and Christine Gardner.  Christine had a green thumb and provided me with so many plants that I didn’t have to buy anything.  They also had a pool, which the boys loved.  The boys and I would feed their cows fresh grass clippings or throw them pears that had fallen on the ground.  The neighbors behind us were from Quebec.  They had a wonderful trail behind their house that we would walk on.  While we lived in Fall Branch, our family grew to include two more cats (Sidney and Simon) and Max, our poodle/terrier mix.  The cats were strays and just showed up one day.

​We joined the First Baptist Church in Fall Branch.  I absolutely loved that church and our pastor Vic and his wife, Dot.  They welcomed us with open arms and they were the nicest people you could ever meet, even when Sam was being sassy.  Once during church, Sam was acting up.  I kept shushing him, trying to make him be quiet.  About that time, the pastor got a little excited.  Sam stood up, put his finger to his mouth and said, “Shhhhhh … be quiet!”

Kenny had a lawn mowing business on the side and I did everything I could to save money so I could continue to stay home, including using cloth diapers.  Going to McDonald’s was a treat back then.  My aunt Sandy lived in Kingsport and the boys and I would go over there a lot in the evenings when Kenny was working.  I would clean her house to earn a little extra money.  

Adam went to Fall Branch Elementary which was kindergarten through 8th grade.  I helped Adam’s kindergarten teacher so much that Sam had his own desk.  She would watch him for me while I painted murals in the hallways at the school.  She would carry him to gym class or wherever they went.  Mrs. Shealy loved Sam and always included him like he was another kindergartner.  

I loved my boys but they could be a handful and were always getting hurt.  I just knew I was on someone’s list at social services of possible child abusers.  Sam broke his arm when he was two, broke his leg when he was three and had 1st and 2nd degree burns on his feet after he stepped in some hot coals at a campfire when he was four.  

Adam had his share of scrapes too.  He fell out of a tree when he was about eight and almost tore his arm off.  He broke his collarbone when he was about nine.  He also broke his arm skateboarding when he was a teenager.  It was so bad the bone punctured through his skin.  I don’t know how they survived and I don’t know how I survived.  At one point, I didn’t want them to even go outside. 

They were hilarious too.  They kept us laughing.  When Sam was about three he was digging in his nose pretty good and Adam tattled on him.  “Mom!  Sam’s picking his nose again!”  Sam replied, very smartly, “I’m gonna put it back!”  

The boys began playing a lot of video games. They played a lot of Mario, Toejam and Earl, Sonic the Hedgehog and lots more. Gameboys came out then too. Dinosaurs, Batman and Ninja Turtles (Adam called them Binjin Turters ) and Power Rangers toys were all over the house. When Adam was finally able to watch the Batman movie with Michael Keaton, he was mesmerized. I think he still can repeat the whole dialogue of the movie.

We had been married almost a year and half when I got pregnant with Adam.  I had gone to Dr. Repass because I had had a negative pregnancy test earlier but he confirmed that I was pregnant.  I was ecstatic and absolutely loved being pregnant.   Everything had been going great until I was about 7 months along.  I began having a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions which is not really abnormal but when I began having them every 10 minutes I finally called my doctor.  He sent me to the hospital.  It was at night and Kenny was at work.  I didn’t want to worry him or mama and daddy so I just went in thinking they would fix me up and I would come back home.  No such luck.  The contractions were coming closer and closer and everything they tried at the Bristol Hospital wasn’t working so they decided to send me to Johnson City, where they were better equipped to handle premature babies.  I had finally called Kenny and mama and told them they needed to come to the hospital.  

​I rode over in an ambulance and my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart but I wasn’t in a lot of pain so again, I wasn’t too concerned.  Being so young, I really didn’t have the sense to worry about it because I didn’t have a clue as to what could happen.  By the time I was in Johnson City, I remember the doctor saying, “Mag her up!” and the next thing I knew I had to throw up but I couldn’t even lift my head so it went all over my chest.  I’m not sure how Magnesium affects other women but for me it paralyzed my whole body.  I couldn’t talk plainly and had an extremely dry mouth.  I couldn’t move my limbs and I had triple vision.  Mama said that my face sort of drooped so I know I looked awful.  

​The magnesium ultimately worked and after about a week in the hospital, I was able to go home with orders to take Terbutaline until my 38th week and be on complete bed rest.  This was in May 1987 and I believe it was the hottest May on record (in my book anyway).  I was extremely bloated, with lots of fluid built up in my legs, which made it very painful to walk.

I thought that when I stopped taking Terbutaline, I would immediately go into labor.  No such luck but I began having hard contractions early in the morning on June 3 (Adam’s due date was June 6).  I was up pacing, practicing my breathing and excited.  Kenny got home from work and very nonchalantly said, “Wake me up when you’re ready to go.” What?!  So, I let him sleep, took a shower, and tried to be quiet until about 6 am when my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart.  I woke him up and we went to the hospital.  My contractions were coming fast and hard but I never dilated.  Dr. Gorrell told me my bones weren’t quite wide enough for Adam’s head but I could try and deliver him naturally or by Cesarean.  I remember looking at him and saying, “I don’t know.  You’re the doctor, you do what you think is best.”  So, he prepared me for surgery.  I’m glad we didn’t have Mr. Google back then.  I’ve been reading all sorts of bad things about Magnesium and Terbutaline. 

Kenny told me that he peeked behind the sheet and saw all my organs lying everywhere, willy nilly and it freaked him out.  He held my hand and together we heard our Adam cry for the very first time.  I knew that when I saw him I would love him but I never thought about his voice.  I still get choked up when I think about it.  Adam was absolutely beautiful and had the cutest little dimple in his chin.  He was 7.6 pounds and 20 inches long.  He was healthy and we were so happy and proud.

​Back then, they didn’t have private rooms so after I had Adam there was already another girl in my room that had already had her baby.  She was getting on my nerves crying all the time.  I didn’t know much about postpartum depression.  Well, she finally went home and then I became the crybaby.  It’s funny how your hormones just go haywire.  One of the nurses brought all the new mothers together so we could learn how to give a newborn a bath.  She asked if she could use Adam to demonstrate.  I was so proud and said sure.  I was all happy until he started crying and then I cried.  It was all I could do not to snatch him right out of her hands and run down the hallway.  Except I couldn’t run, I could barely walk.  The first time you stand up after a Cesarean, you feel like all your organs are going to fall out. “Keep trying” they said, “it gets easier the more you do it.”  Breastfeeding was extremely painful at first too.  Boy oh boy did I want to scream bloody murder when Adam latched on.  He was a sucker too.  He had blisters on his fingers and toes where he sucked so much in the womb.  

Adam was the sweetest, cutest and happiest baby.  He was also mama and daddy’s first grandchild so they were pretty excited too.  Mama had been begging to keep Adam and Kenny wanted to go out on a date with me.  I was breastfeeding and didn’t want to leave him because he was only 3 weeks old, but they finally talked me into it.  Kenny and I went to Byers Restaurant and got steak and cheese sandwiches.  I couldn’t be satisfied so I asked if I could use their phone so I could call mom and check on Adam.  Every time I called it was busy.  I went back to the table and bawled.  Eventually I got a hold of mama.  She had been on the phone yacking to her sisters, of course.  Kenny wanted to go play Putt-Putt just down the street so I went, even though I didn’t want to.  We played one game and then Kenny wanted to play again and I said, “No!  I’m going to get my baby!”  The first time you leave your child is always the hardest.  It definitely got better, to the point of “Yes!  Come and get him!”

Since I had been off a few weeks before Adam was born, I went back to work when Adam was just 6 weeks old which just about killed me. Since Kenny worked nights, he watched Adam during the day and mama picked him up about 3 and took him to her house. New mamas need more than 6 weeks to bond with their baby. Father’s need that bonding time too. I don’t remember Kenny being off any except maybe the day Adam was born. I’m so glad things changed when my boys became fathers.

I was still 19 when Kenny and I got married; just a few days shy of being 20.  Our ceremony was at noon because Kenny said he wanted to get it over with.  Ha-ha!  Bless his heart; he just couldn’t wait to marry me!  We had a lot of family staying at my parent’s house.  My granny and granddaddy (in from Florida) slept in my bed so I had to sleep with mom and dad on the eve of my wedding.  I guess I could have slept on the couch but mama wanted me close.  Our wedding wasn’t anything fancy and we had the reception downstairs in the fellowship hall of the church.  My wedding dress was a hand-me-down from my cousin’s wife.  It had been altered to fit me by a sweet friend of my grandma’s, Ms. Elizabeth.  Daddy walked me down the aisle and gave me away happily because he loved Kenny, as well as mama.  She loved to cook for Kenny as much as he liked to eat.  I think he gained 20 pounds while we were dating.  The first time I brought Kenny home to meet my parents, I warned him that daddy wouldn’t have much to say but he surprised us both.  He took to Kenny right off and offered him a beer from his keg in the garage.   

We went to Myrtle Beach on our honeymoon. We did a lot of moaning on our honeymoon but not from what you might think. We had the worst sunburns ever! In early April, it can still be pretty cool, even in South Carolina. If you lay real still on the beach you didn’t get too cold and the wind would just roll over you. I was on my back and Kenny on his stomach most of the day. We knew we were sunburned but we didn’t realize how bad it was until that night. We got some green Aloe Vera gel to help soothe the burn and I’m sure the maids thought we were pretty kinky. We still laugh about it.

​Our first home was a rental house in Bluff City, on Boone Lake.  We rented it from a preacher and his wife, who lived across the street.  Every piece of furniture we had was given to us by family.  It was a bit eclectic but it was free.  The first thing we ever bought was a television from Rex’s.  It was huge and built in its own cabinet.  My husband was so excited that he couldn’t wait for me to get home so he carried it in all by himself.  I don’t know how he did it!  Did I mention that he has a bad back today?  

​Kenny finally figured out I wasn’t much of a cook.  One of the first meals I learned to cook was Shake ‘N Bake pork chops and we had them all the time, along with Rice-A-Roni. The only cake I could bake was from a box Duncan Hines or Betty Crocker with canned icing.  I made some corned beef and cabbage in a crock pot once and I was so proud but learned that Kenny wasn’t a fan of cooked cabbage.  Back then I never bought real butter because we thought that was bad for you.  Instead we used margarine.   We had a lot of ham sandwiches, Pop-Tarts for breakfast and of course mom and Grandma’s house were always a great place to eat.  We always went to Grandma’s after church and she would have a huge meal.  She would burn rubber in the parking lot after services to get home and get everything on the table.  It never ceased to amaze me how she was able to pull it off.  We go to Victory Baptist Church today and sometimes we’re invited to the preacher’s house for lunch after church.  Vera, our pastor’s wife, is also a miracle worker, offering so many meats and vegetables and everything is always delicious.  

​We lived in the rental home for about 6 months until we bought a little green house on Virginia Avenue from Mary C who went to our church.  It had 3 bedrooms, 1 bath, a living room and a kitchen big enough for a small table.  Mom and dad let us borrow the money for the down payment but we paid it all back.  Mom was very instrumental in helping us find the house and it was the start of her career as a very successful realtor.  

​My job at IHRA consisted of creating and soliciting ads for the bi-weekly newspaper and our annual rule books/souvenir books.  It wasn’t easy because I was always competing with NHRA, which was a bigger and more successful sanctioning body.  I was on the phone all day calling companies that made parts for drag cars, or anyone else that might be interested in purchasing an advertisement.  I remember calling a pretty large corporation in California.  The girl that answered the phone put me on speaker so everyone in the office could hear me talking in my hick voice.  

​Kenny would travel quite a bit going to radio stations and television stations to promote the upcoming IHRA race.  I went to a few races (Norwalk ,OH, Cincinnati, OH, Milan MI, Darlington, SC, Rockingham, NC, and St. Louis, MO).  At the race, Kenny would be in the media center, taking care of all of the reporters and writing releases for the newspapers.  I would usually work different jobs.  Sometimes I would handle credentials and sometimes I would work in the timing booth which was pretty cool.  Meeting drivers like Kenny Bernstein, who liked to flirt, was definitely an experience.  He won his first NHRA Funny Car Championship the year we got married.  Don “The Snake” Prudhomme, Shirley Muldowney, “Big Daddy” Don Garlits, Joe Amato, Eddie Hill were all popular drivers at that time.

One time I was in the tower during an event and one of the drivers crashed his vehicle as he went down the strip.  I remember one of the officials saying it was a bad situation and the tension in the room was so strong.  The driver had hit the guard rail, cutting him and his car in half.  

There were lots of wrecks and also lots of shenanigans at the drag races.  

Our boss, Larry Carrier, who built and founded Bristol Motor Speedway, also founded IHRA, which was a huge rival for NHRA at the time. I always appreciated the fact that he hired me when I was so young, giving me a chance when no one else would. Of course he hired me cheap but he more than made up for it when I proved myself. Larry was a character and his mind was always working. Once, on April 1st, he called me into his office and said that he was sorry but Kenny would have to work the following weekend (our wedding day) at the round track race which had been postponed due to rain. Well, I just got so upset, not knowing what a prankster he was, and said, “We already sent out all the invitations!” He just laughed and laughed. I wrecked the company car once and the first thing he asked was, “Is she okay?” I’ll always remember how kind Larry and his wife, Shirley, were to us.

Kenny was offered a job at the Kingsport newspaper for more money so he decided to take it. He was a sports reporter, covering mostly football and races. Racing, especially round track racing, was so popular that Kenny eventually became a full time racing reporter, traveling all over the country, thus beginning his impressive career in NASCAR.

Right after I graduated high school, grandpa died. He was only 67. It was hard for everyone to watch him suffer like he did. He couldn’t breathe. Grandma had some burial plots in Big Rock, Virginia and that’s where Grandpa was buried (where my dad is buried today) but she eventually had him moved to Bristol so she could visit his grave more. Poor Grandma did not do well when Grandpa passed but she perked up when Uncle Garry and cousin Elaina moved in with her.

​That fall, after I graduated high school, I took some night courses from East Tennessee State University; Accounting and Economics.  That was enough to make me not want to go back.  They were the most boring classes ever.  I was also working 3 part-time jobs, including a little pizza joint that used to be on King College Road.  Larry S. came in one day and asked the restaurant owner if he knew of anyone looking for a job that could sell advertising.  It was for the International Hot Rod Association (IHRA), which was the drag racing sanctioning body at the race track.  Of course I said I was (looking for a job) and ended up getting it.  That’s how I became the Advertising Director for IHRA and one reason I didn’t want to go back to school.  It was also the place I met my husband, Kenny Bruce, who was the media director for IHRA.  I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on him.  He had been out of town when I first started but stopped by my office when he came back and introduced himself.  I was hooked from that first day.

​Kenny was 6 years older than me and I was still 18 when we met but almost 19.  I flirted like crazy but he was slow when it came to asking me out on a real date.  He was older and sophisticated, funny, smart and I had to have him.  About a month after we met he had a birthday and he was turning 25.  I told him to tell me what cake he wanted and I would make it.  He said German chocolate was one of his favorites.  I promptly went home and said, “Mama, I need you to make me a cake.”  I was still living at home and had never learned how to cook.  Mama always liked to cook and have someone else clean up the dishes; still does.  She made the cake and I presented it to Kenny and never told him (until later) that I didn’t bake it.  I know, it was kind of sneaky but it worked.  Not long after, we were working a horse auction for Larry Carrier (the race track owner at the time) and Kenny finally asked me out.  Mama and daddy were out of town so I was staying at Grandma’s house because even though I was almost 19 years old, mama wouldn’t let me stay by myself.  Kenny took me to The Firehouse (Barbecue) in Johnson City and then we saw the movie Splash.  

​I don’t remember much of what happened in 1984 globally, but I know Alabama was very popular, along with Wham.  Kenny and I saw the movie, Purple Rain, in the old theater on Volunteer Parkway.  People were dancing in the aisles.  It still gives me chills to hear the beginning of Let’s Go Crazy.  I wanted to get up and dance too! 

​Kenny was from Rocky Mount, Virginia (right outside of Roanoke) but he went to East Tennessee State University (following his sister Linda’s footsteps).  Just like me, he was the baby of the family but he had 3 older brothers and 2 older sisters (Wesley, Linda, Mark, Deborah and Phillip).  I was a bit intimidated by them all when Kenny took me home the first time.  I’m sure they wondered why he was dating a little girl.  Mark still calls me “Grundy, Virginia” using a very southern accent when he says it because, apparently, when he asked me where I was from, I said I was born in Grundy, Virginia and I guess I must have sounded a bit countryfied.  Kenny’s mom, Lonnie, is a very strong Christian woman.  She scared me a little bit at first.  One of the first times I ever visited, she asked me to wrap a package.  I really mangled that package and I remember her looking at me funny.  I was so embarrassed.  They were all so sweet but boy did they like to talk.  I didn’t have to say much because they always kept the conversation going.  Deborah and Linda did most of the talking and his brother Wesley would always be standing at the doorway on the verge of leaving but always finding something else to say.  Phillip could have been Kenny’s twin, but he was 4 years older.  Kenny’s daddy lived in Martinsville.  He had been in a car accident years before and had a back injury.  While in surgery, the doctor’s damaged his spinal cord and he was paralyzed.  Kenny and his dad would always talk about Nascar.  All of Kenny’s family have always good to me.  

I mentioned earlier that daddy used to say that he was made to go to church every time the doors were open and that he wouldn’t do that to us. So, we didn’t go to church at all. I always felt like something was missing. Grandma went to Virginia Avenue Baptist Church and I would sometimes go with her when I was a teenager. She loved for her family to go to church with her. Her goal was to fill up the whole pew. Some of my favorite memories of her are standing next to her while she sang her favorite hymns. I can’t sing There’s Power in the Blood without thinking of her. She would hit those high notes with such enthusiasm. She always had her purse full of candy and Werther’s Orignials (caramel) were my favorite. My least favorite was the soft peppermints, which she must have bought in bulk.

After Kenny and I began dating, we would go to church (when we weren’t traveling to the races). David Lay was our pastor. We asked him to marry us and he told us he would but he wanted for us to take classes before we did. While we were dating, we accepted Jesus as our Lord and Savior and were baptized together. Being so young, I had no idea what it took to keep a marriage strong but I knew that I loved God and I loved Kenny. That right there has kept us going for over 37 years.

            1979 was my first year of high school.  As with most teenagers, I look at high school with fond memories but also with anxiety.  Making the cheerleading squad, club initiations and friends were great, but I also remembered not quite fitting in and feeling like I was outside the box.  I have such fond memories of my cheer mates from Vance to my senior year at Tennessee High.  Laura, Renee, Kelly, Karen K, Karen H, Sonja, Kristi, Kim, Linda, Pam, Melanie, Sharon and Megan.  If I didn’t have them, I think I would have fallen through the cracks.  I’ll never forget driving home from school one day and hitting a dog right next to King College (now it’s King University).  Laura L was right behind me.  She stopped her car and got out when she saw I was upset, consoling me and telling me it wasn’t my fault.  Her kind words helped me more than she’ll ever know.  They were all like that; kind and exemplary and I looked up to every one of them.

            Usually, you have that special friend that you love like no other.  Mine was Donna W.  We would coordinate our wardrobe and exchange outfits because we were both small.  We loved our painters’ overalls that weren’t white but in pastel colors.  We were such a preppy group with our cabled sweaters, oxford shirts, dock siders/top siders and add-a-bead necklaces.  Gloria Vanderbilt and Calvin Klein jeans, Polo sweaters and Izod shirts were in style too.  My aunt Sue gave me my first string of pearls in high school, and I fell in love with them.  Pearls are my favorite and I still wear them all the time.

            Before I got my license, daddy taught me how to drive a straight shift in Tara Hills.  Back then, all the roads had been paved but I don’t remember many houses.  We were sitting on one of the small inclines and I was trying to go forward but easing the clutch and the gas at the same time takes practice and I wasn’t so good yet.  I kept stalling and the car would die.  I told daddy “I can’t do it!” crying and carrying on like it was the end of the world.  He was so calm and never once got excited.  He said lots of calming words, telling me I could do it and eventually, I did.  Maybe he did, but I don’t remember my daddy ever yelling at me.  Mama would yell and fuss sometimes, but we would cry and then get over it.  I wish I could say I never yelled at my kids, but I’d be lying if I did.

            Mama and daddy bought me a car for my 16th birthday.  It was a baby blue Gremlin.  It looked like a piece of junk and if I remember correctly, they paid $700 for it but I can tell you, I was glad to have it.  The front fender was a mess, and all bent up.  It would stall right in the middle of the road for no reason!  But it was all mine, an automatic, and I loved it. 

            When I got my driver’s license my mama was scared that I would wreck so it took a lot of pleading on my part to drive by myself that first time.  I begged and begged to just drive from Stonegate to the little market across from Holston View.  I remember her finally relenting but telling me, “Don’t go over 25 mph!”  Of course, I was aggravated but I minded her.  When My boys got their driver’s license, I didn’t want to let them go either and finally understood how my own mother felt.  One of the hardest things you can ever do as a parent is to let go. 

            Back then if you had a driver’s license (or had a friend with a driver’s license) you could leave campus for lunch, but you had to drive like a maniac to be able to get back in time for your next class.  We had McDonalds, Wendy’s, Burger King fast food restaurants to choose from on Volunteer Parkway and there was also a food truck that sold burritos that we went to a lot.  When I was old enough, I got my first job at McDonalds (making $3.35 an hour) but mama would also give me $10 for gas and food and somehow and some way I made it through the week.  I was in popular demand in my neighborhood for babysitting, earning $1.00 per hour.  I just heard that the going rate for babysitting now is $18.50 per hour.  What?!!

            When I was 16 or 17, daddy had a new car.  He loved Toyota’s and Nissans (which he called Nice un’s).  Being a mechanic, he knew what cars were the best for the money.  I asked to take it out one day and he said I could.  It was parked in the front yard for some reason, and my brother’s car was parked on the driveway.  We lived on a steep hill.  As I was backing out, I hit my brother’s car, wrecking two cars at once.  Daddy didn’t even fuss at me, which I would have deserved if he had.

            My brother had a Nissan 310 GX.  We ended up trading cars my senior year of high school because he lost his job and couldn’t make the payments.  Other than it being a straight, I loved that car too.  On my brother’s 21st birthday, he took the old Gremlin out to the lake to meet his friends.  It backfired and burnt to the ground, along with all his birthday money.

            Tennessee High was a great school, and we had a lot of great teachers.  There was a smoking section for students in the back of the school if you needed a cigarette.  Ha-ha!  I wasn’t always the best student.  Today I would probably be diagnosed as having ADD or maybe even ADHD.  I had such a hard time paying attention, my mind wondering about anything but what the teacher was saying.  To this day, I take notes in Church and Sunday School so I will make myself pay attention

            One of the hardest classes I ever took was 9th grade Biology with Mr. Barker.  That was the first class I ever had that I had to study by my own notes.  I took Health Occupations when I was a senior.  I learned quickly that nursing wasn’t for me.  I was a bit queasy about things but not as bad as my brother.  He would gag and throw up if he smelled dog poop.  The only thing I did well in that class was make a hospital bed, right, Gwen? Gwen and I could fold those corners like nobody’s business. 

            Of course, I loved art class and Mrs. Grogg was great.  She was also our cheerleading sponsor.  I’m no great artist but I can draw a little.  I love to paint and do crafts.  Granny Cox found her love of painting late in life.  She started taking art classes in her 70’s and kept on painting until her fingers got too arthritic.  Grandaddy Cox use to build her easels and make frames for her paintings.  Daddy’s youngest brother, Jerry also loves to build things.  He makes the most beautiful boxes (which I call treasure boxes) with unique pieces of rare wood.  A lot of my cousins on my dad’s side of the family are artistic.  My cousin Patrick, who I still call “little Pat” because that’s what Granny called him, is an awesome photographer and my cousin Becky is an artist.  My cousin Patty was a dentist, but she also liked to paint.  My cousin Keith also learned of his love of art later in life.

           Grandma and Grandpa moved to Bristol when I was in the 7th grade.  Grandpa had retired but he had black lung by that time and every other kind of lung disease.  He had also been a smoker and had rolled his own cigarettes which didn’t have any filters.  Grandma never smoked but she said she would often roll and light his cigarettes for him.

            Grandma and Grandpa both loved Bristol, one as much as the other.  Grandma didn’t have to clean coal dust so much which was a real plus. Mama was tickled to death and helped them a lot with moving and getting adjusted to Bristol.  It was fun having them close by and eventually all moms’ sisters and brother moved to the area as well. 

            Grandma and Grandpa lived in a little house on Cannon Avenue and they were so proud to have it.  They had a big maple tree in their little front yard.  Grandpa couldn’t do much because he was on oxygen all the time, but Grandma liked to have a neat yard.  Grandpa would sit in his rocker next to the front window.  If he saw a leaf fall from the tree, he would say, “Lessie, another leaf fell.  You better run out there and get it.”  They didn’t have cold dust anymore but I guess since she was in the habit of hosing things off, she decided to hose off her driveway instead, whether it needed it or not.

            I met my good friend, Kim V. at Vance.  I was standing in line in the cafeteria when Mrs. Ford, my English teacher walked up with this cute, tall girl.  Mrs. Ford said, “Karen, here’s Kim.  She’s new here” and then walked off.  Well, I looked up at Kim and she looked down at me and we just hit it off.  I found out she lived right down the street from me.  We’ve been great friends ever since and I just love her mama, Nancy. 

            Mrs. Ford was one of my favorite teachers, as well as my art teacher, Mrs. Blanton.  I got in trouble in her class one time.  Some boys, I can’t remember who, thought it would be a great idea to put me in a locker and shut the door.  They weren’t really being mean, just acting up but Ms. Blanton was so mad when she opened the locker to let me out. 

            There was a science teacher at Vance that I’ll never forget, and not for any good reasons.  I won’t mention her name but to this day I get upset just thinking about it.  My Social Studies teacher asked me to take a note to her.  She wasn’t in her room and the kids were sitting quietly.  I saw a door that was some type of office/storage space located between rooms.  I looked in and saw her sitting at a desk smoking a cigarette.  When she saw me, she jumped up and began hollering, grabbed my arm and literally dragged me to the office, screaming at me the whole way.  I just about died.  I was crying because she scared me half to death and I didn’t know what I had done wrong.  She wasn’t my teacher so if they had a rule of not going in her office/storage room, I didn’t know anything about it.  I think the office staff was pretty shocked and didn’t say anything to me.  I eventually went back to my class and my teacher didn’t say much but I could tell he was angry, not at me but at her.

            Every summer we would go somewhere on vacation.  Lots of times we went to Virginia Beach, where we could visit Navy friends.  Mama and daddy had a brown Datsun with a hatchback.  Mama put the seats down and placed a foam mattress in the back.  The first couple of hours weren’t so bad but after a while my brother and I got tired of lying there and wanted to sit up.  I was so hot and miserable by the time that we got to the hotel that I couldn’t wait to get out of the car but mama wouldn’t let us.  We had to hide so they wouldn’t have to pay extra for kids. 

            Traveling was usually pretty fun.  My brother and I would sometimes act up, fighting and teasing each other.  One time at a hotel, my dad was already asleep but mom got aggravated at us so she made my brother get in the bed with my dad and mama was with me.  Eventually, we heard my brother giggling because daddy had turned over and put his arm around him thinking it was mama.  Daddy was not amused.

            Daddy had two things he loved to drink; black coffee and beer.  He worked hard and I guess he looked forward to his cold Pabst Blue Ribbon beer when he got home.  He got a tattoo when he was in the Navy.  It was supposed to be a kitten on his forearm but it had faded so much it wasn’t real obvious, especially as he got older.  He told me he had a few too many beers when he got it and it hurt real bad so he didn’t go back to let them finish it.

            During the summer before my fifth grade year, we moved again.  Mom and dad bought a house in Stonegate.  Part of the neighborhood was in Virginia and part of it was in Tennessee.  We were on the Tennessee side so we had to change schools once again.  This time we went to Holston View Elementary, home of the Mounties, and back then I didn’t have a clue what a Mountie was.  I think they’ve changed their mascot since then. 

            Holston View was different than any school I had been to.  They had pods.  Each pod had two grades in it and the classes were separated by partitions.  I don’t know how we got anything done with all that open space and noise.  We had carpet too.  We would all sit on the floor sometimes while the teacher tried to teach us.  For some reason each class had a mixture of 5th and 6th graders.  My 5th grade teacher was Ms. Shaw and my 6th grade teacher was Ms. Shankel who later became Mrs. Arnold. My boys also went to Holston View and Ms. Arnold was their teacher too.

            Once again I was the new kid.  One kid told me I was in the wrong Pod; that I should go with the other Kindergarteners.  Most kids don’t want to stand out; they just want to be like everyone else and I was no exception.  I’m sure I said unkind things too and never thought anything of it.  Children are overly honest and unfortunately not very tactful.  Thankfully most of us grow up. 

            One of my first friends in the fifth grade was Jackie W.  She was from up north (New York, maybe?) and she had a pretty pronounced accent.  She wore glasses, which probably made her self-conscious too.  I had my first boyfriend in the fifth grade.  His name was Greg A.  I don’t remember ever actually talking to him.  He asked me to be his girlfriend via Jackie.  At first I said no and then changed my mind because I did want to be his girlfriend.  Poor Jackie had to go back and forth until we made up our minds.  We would play on the playground on this huge climbing apparatus that would be labeled too dangerous today.  Greg and I would chase each other around outside but that was about it.

            Spike T was a little sweet on me and sent me flowers on my birthday that year.  Mama was very impressed.  He was a mess and he always called me Foxy Coxy, even through high school.  I would act like I was embarrassed but secretly I liked it.  I had a couple of other boyfriends, Steve and Blake but I don’t remember any other boyfriends until I was 16.

One of my favorite things to do was go to Skate Fun.  Sometimes when I hear a 70’s song it brings me back to skating, especially Jungle Love which I thought was Chug-A-Lug.  I was an adult (and not a young adult) before I finally realized that I had been singing it wrong for years.  Chug-a-lug, it’s driving me mad; it’s making me crazy, crazy!  Hahahaha!  It’s funny how you can sing a song for years and not even pay attention to what the lyrics were.  Later, you think, what?

            In the sixth grade, it was surprising but I was voted Miss Mountie.  As you can see by the pictures below I had pretty big teeth and it took a while for me to ‘grow’ into them.  I didn’t have any special talents.  I wasn’t the most athletic, most studious or most anything.  I had a part in one of the school plays (Bicentennial Skit) and my only line was “The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming!” I was riding backwards on the back of a ‘horse’ which was actually two people underneath a costume. I remember everyone laughing.  They only picked me for the part because I was the smallest and wouldn’t break anyone’s back.

            My special friends were Debbie D, Lisa T, Karla H, Teresa A, Angela B and Beth P.  Karla had this huge Barbie Dream house which I thought was the coolest ever.  We thought we were too big to play with Barbies but we did anyway.  At home I would make my own house.  The beds would be a book with a wash cloth for the bedspread and another rolled up for the pillows.  So, you can imagine how excited I was when I went to Karla’s house.  

            My English teacher, Ms. Peters, gave Beth and me detention once.  We deserved it because we had been talking and wouldn’t shut up; even after she told us a few times to be quiet.  She finally got fed up and yelled, “Beth, Karen, and DH!”  Well, I just about died of fright and cried my eyes out.  Bless her heart, Ms. Peters felt so bad that she told me I didn’t have to stay after for detention hall, which I really did deserve.   

            It was our house in Stonegate that we finally got cable.  Every day I would come home from school and see the cable truck (because everyone was getting cable) and wonder if we were next.  Mom had vowed she would never pay for television but she finally relented.  Daddy loved his television and music so we always had a good television set and stereo.  My brother and I also got Atari and we played Pong all the time.  We would move those paddles up and down the television screen, bouncing the little white ball, back and forth, back and forth.  It sounds pretty boring but we thought it was the greatest thing ever.    

Eventually, it was time to say goodbye to Harmon and move into our new house in Lowery Hills.  After retiring from the Navy, daddy got a job as a diesel Mechanic at Campbell Motors on Lee Highway which was where the Falls (exit 5) are now.  He let his hair grow out and he looked like Sonny Bono. 

 My brother and I went to High Point Elementary, our third school in one year.  I must have had the meanest third grade teacher alive.  She made me cry almost every day.  Moving around so much had put me a little behind in school and this teacher was mad, I guess, because she had to spend so much time to help me catch up.  She even threatened to hold me back a grade.  I don’t know what changed her mind but she let me move on, probably because she got tired of me crying or maybe she retired.  She was pretty old (or it seemed to me she was).  By the time I went to fourth grade, everything was fine.  I went from having the meanest teacher to having the nicest teacher, Miss Sorah.

I was a little shy back then, mostly because I had moved around so much and also because I was so small.  I don’t remember ever not being the shortest person in my class.  Other kids would give me a hard time about it.  “Why are you so short?”  Sometimes it would bother me and sometimes it wouldn’t but I was always self-conscious.  One day in the fourth grade we were taking turns spelling words out loud.  Wouldn’t you know that when it was my turn, my word was shrimp.  Of course, everyone laughed, even my sweet teacher.  I brushed it off and spelled the word correctly, but I’ll never forget how embarrassed I was.

My brother and I absolutely loved living in Lowry Hills because there were kids everywhere. Recently, my mom and I drove around the old neighborhood. Our house was in the very back next to a vacant, wooded lot that is still there today.  We were always building forts in those woods.  We had hammers and nails and old rugs we had confiscated from our parent’s garages.  I would sweep the paths with an old broom and swing on the huge vines.  I don’t know how we didn’t get hurt or end up covered in poison ivy rashes, but we didn’t.  The worst thing that happened to me was when my brother and I were playing King of the Mountain.  He pushed me and I broke my wrist when I fell backwards. 

Brother came home once smelling of cigarette smoke.  Mom lit into him and he finally admitted that he and his friend picked up some cigarette butts on the road and smoked them.  First of all, gross!  Second, he should have known that mom had a nose like a hound and would find out.  She was relentless too.  She would not let up until you confessed everything and then some just so she would leave you alone.  My father gave my brother a pocketknife one time and didn’t tell mom.  When she found it she had Kenny all tore up and had him convinced that he stole it! 

The house across the street from us had this old Basset Hound and she was the sweetest.  Every day we would visit her and play with her.  I loved her unlike the Irish Setter that lived down the street that was mean.  I was on my way to visit my best friend Mary when it caught site of me and chased me around the cars in the driveway while I screamed bloody murder. 

 Mary and her brothers lived a couple of doors down from us.  All the kids on our street met at their house to catch the bus for school.  We would play games like Red Rover or Dodgeball on the driveway next door because it didn’t have any cars on it.  We would be all sweaty by the time the bus came to pick us up and cart us off to school.  Unlike kids today, we were always outside.  We didn’t have cable or video games so outside was the most fun. 

 Our mothers would pack our lunches so that Mary and I could go exploring during the summers.  I still can smell my white lunchbox with Woodstock on it.  You know that smell.  They all had it.  One time, we ran across some teenage boys in the woods that were up to no good.  I thought they were nice because they were being extra nice to us.  I didn’t have sense enough to tell my parents but Mary did, thank goodness. 

One of my best memories is swimming at the Springlake Swim and Tennis Club.  Boy, did we have fun there.  Our moms would drop us off and Mary and I would hang out all day long.  If we were lucky our moms gave us money for the snack bar which had the best cheeseburgers that you ever put in your mouth.  KC and The Sunshine Band was real popular which was pretty cool since those were my initials.  We would put quarters in the jukebox and play Shake Your Bootie and would laugh and laugh.  We didn’t know anything about the sun being harmful and sunscreen certainly wasn’t a thing back then.  I don’t remember ever having a sunburn but I do remember being very dark by the end of the summer and my hair would be almost blonde. 

In 1975 Jaws was released in the theaters.  My mother took my brother and I to the old Cameo Theater in downtown Bristol.  I was so scared as was my brother.  We both ended up in her lap before the movie was over.  That was one of the first movies I ever went to that I can remember. 

By the time I was in third grade, daddy decided to retire from the Navy so we all packed up and moved to Bristol.  They bought a new house in Lowery Hills that wasn’t quite finished.  It must have been a lot of work because mama and daddy decided that my brother and I would live with Grandma Lessie and Grandpa Fred for a few weeks while they finished the house.  By that time, my grandparents lived right next to the coal mine in Harmon where my grandpa worked.    I remember coal trucks running up and down the roads all the time.  This was before they made them cover the coal with screens for obvious environmental reasons.  My poor grandma had to hose down the front porch every day just to get rid of all of the coal dust.

            While living with my grandparents, my brother and I attended Harmon Elementary.  We didn’t go there long enough to make too many friends but it definitely made an impression on me.  I remember a smart aleck girl who was always called to read aloud.  I guess the rest of us were too dumb.  I also remember recess.  Grandma would always give me a quarter to buy some potato chips.  I use to wear these smock tops with pockets and I would pour my greasy chips in them (for some reason) while I ran around the playground.  Maybe that’s why I didn’t have too many friends.

            Grandma was tickled to death that we stayed with them as we had moved around so much before that.  I loved to dust her furniture and spray Lysol all over, which was something my mama never let me do.  She would also peel and slice apples for me to eat or give me a box of pecan sandies to eat in front of the television.  We could drink Pepsi, which we called ‘pop’ and eat potato chips.  She always worried about me because I was so little but I was bad to eat junk food and sweets and nothing else. 

            Grandma and Grandpa had a big claw footbathtub and I would fill it up with hot water until it was up past my neck.  I would sneak and use Grandma’s razor to shave my arms because I had no idea you used it on your legs or armpits, not that I had any hair there.  She said if I didn’t have time to take a bath, to wash up as far as possible and then down as far as possible, and then wash the possible.  This still makes me laugh. 

            She had what I use to call a ‘folding bed’ in her bedroom.  My brother and I would sleep in that or with Grandma.  Grandpa often worked nights in the coal mine and grandma hated to sleep by herself.  We would all pile up in the bed and nothing would make Grandma any happier than having a bunch of “bed fellers.”

            We loved living with our grandparents because we got to see our cousins a lot more.  With all those kids and grandkids, and us being hungry all the time, Grandma was always cooking.  She was a great cook.  One of the favorites with all the grandchildren was chocolate gravy (see recipe below).  She made the best biscuits too, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside.  Mama says you have to cook your biscuits on high heat (450 degrees) to get them that way and she makes good biscuits too.  I asked mama once how to fix biscuits and she told me to use flour, shredded (partly frozen) butter, and buttermilk.  She said when they have the consistency of your titty (there’s that word again) they were ready to form and put on the pan.  And then I closed my eyes and shook my head.

            Grandma always had a garden and canned everything.  The table would be so full of food; she hardly left enough room for our plates. She always froze her corn from the garden and would heat it up in the microwave.  Many times she would jump up right in the middle of a meal and exclaim, “I forgot the corn!” 

            When they lived in Harmon, she would take her milk cartons and fill them up with leftovers and dump them in the creek, that is if she didn’t have a pig to feed.  She would also throw leftovers outside which wasn’t a big deal.  I don’t remember them having much grass or yard and the mountain was right behind the house.  It went straight up.  Today, my mama lives in a big fancy house, in a fancy gated community and she’ll toss her bad, smelly onions off the deck (just like grandma).   Her back deck is right next to a fancy golf course. 

            When grandma was cooking she was always in a hurry.  Every time she cooked the kitchen looked like a tornado had blown through, leaving the cabinets open, all Helter Skelter; pots and pans piled up everywhere.  It would take you a couple of hours just to clean it up as I figured out later as a teenager.  My aunts would all pay me money to clean up while they sat around and gabbed.  One time Grandma was in such a hurry, as she was grabbing something out of the fridge, she slammed it shut not knowing that the cat had stuck her nose in the door.  Snapped its poor neck.  She cried.

            I miss Grandma’s cooking and didn’t appreciate it when I was younger as I did when I was older.  One of my favorites was chicken and dumplings.  The dumplings were always soft and fluffy.  When she was cooking it on the stove and the chicken and broth was boiling, she would put the dumplings in one at a time.  She would have me use a spoon to keep everything separated while she put another dumpling in.  Another favorite of mine was her cole slaw.  The cabbage head had to have a small stem; otherwise it would be too tough and chewy.  She would often put the ingredients together ahead of time (shredded cabbage and carrots, mayonnaise and Sweet and Low) and let me mix it up.

            My husband’s favorite was her canned sweet pickles (Virginia Chunk Pickles).  I finally learned how to make them with the cucumbers we grew out of our own garden.  I don’t like gardening like she did.  I just hate the weeding, especially if it’s real hot outside.  She loved it so much that she had a garden until she was in her 80’s and finally had to quit because she wasn’t able to work it anymore.  She taught me how to string the half-runner green beans and then snap them, which I loved to do.

            Grandma always had a cat or two but they never lived long because she always managed to kill them; accidentally of course.  They had an old coal stove in a room off the kitchen where we all ate.  Grandma would fire it up early every morning but she got a surprise one day.  As soon as the fire went up the pipe she heard a cat squall.  Oops!  Daddy was in charge of opening up the pipe and getting the smoked cat out. 

            I got to watch one cat giving birth in a closet which was pretty amazing and gross all at the same time.  The mucus and junk that the cat licked up was a bit too much for me.  It was so exciting though because some of us (me and my other cousins) got to take a kitten home and we all named them tool names.  There was Screwdriver, Nut, Nail and Hammer.  Hammer was my cat.  He disappeared one time and I found out later that mama asked Grandma and Grandpa to take him off one day.  They dropped him off somewhere, but apparently not far enough, because he came back.  He liked to sit on his back and lick his privates. 

            Grandma grieved for her cats, bless her heart.  She had a cat named Conway Kitty, an orange tabby.  He was named after her favorite country music singer.  She’d get pretty excited when he sang, “Hello, darlin’.”  She mostly called him ‘Con’ and he was the strangest cat ever.  She used to bathe him every week and then he had skin issues from all that bathing.  She would dab orange disinfectant all over those bad places causing him to look weird and mangy.  My cousin Elaina cut off his whiskers once or maybe that was Tom Bick.  Elaina has three orange tabbies’ today, named Cornbread Fred, Beans and Tater.  I can still hear grandma calling Elaina’s name today.  “Eeeeeelaiiiiiinaaaaa!”

            Although grandpa worked hard in the mines, he didn’t do much else because grandma cooked, cleaned and always took care of the kids.  He did like to whittle and even taught me how.  I thought that was pretty cool because mama would have had a fit if she knew I was using a knife.  Grandpa also liked to read and follow politics.  He was a die-hard republican but I don’t think he ever actually voted.  I doubt he was even registered to vote.

            Grandpa didn’t have any teeth and he wouldn’t wear his false ones either which use to aggravate Grandma.  He eventually ‘lost’ them so she would leave him alone.  Grandpa liked to chew Beechnut tobacco and he would chew beechnut chewing gum all at the same time so it was all swirled together.  Grandma hated it, especially because he was pretty messy with it.  One time she had just washed their white Pontiac and Grandpa was spitting out the window.  Whenever they got to where they were going, Grandma found brown spit all over the side of the car.  She was mad.

            Grandpa lost part of his thumb, probably in the mine, and used the nub to tickle me, squeezing my knee, until I was screaming for him to stop.  Grandma would say, “Stop it Fred, you’re hurting her.”  Grandma would hurt me too with ‘love licks.’  She would pat me so hard on the back that I would sometimes cry.  Of course she would love and squeeze on me until it was all better.

            By the time we lived with them they had an indoor toilet, but I remember when I was real little and we would visit them in Belcher’s Fork, they had an outhouse.  I was scared of it so Grandma would hold me over the porch rail while I did my business.  Brother and some of the boy cousins would have contests to see who could pee the farthest off of the porch.  I think it’s because they were scared of the outhouse too.  I have the faintest memories of daddy helping to install Grandma’s first indoor toilet. 

            Sometimes we would go to Tampa, Florida where daddy’s parents lived before they moved to Ocala.  Lottie and Cecil were living their best life.  Granny absolutely loved to fish and she would go every chance she got.  They took me fishing one time and Granny fussed at me because all I did was throw the line in and reel it back.  I didn’t leave it out long enough to catch a fish.  I guess I made her nervous and disturbed all the other fish.  Sometimes they would come to Bristol and that was usually the only time we went to church.  We would go to the State Street Church of Christ or the East Bristol Church of Christ. 

            Before they moved to Florida they lived in a house in Lowery Hills.  It’s still there and mama said it looks exactly the same.  I think it’s the first house on the left as you come into the neighborhood and it has a carport on each side of the house.  It was in that house that I first met my daddy when I was just a few weeks old.  Mama, my brother and I were staying with Granny and Granddaddy when daddy came home on leave from the Navy.

CHOCOLATE GRAVY RECIPE (Thank you Aunt Sandy!)

Ingredients: 2 TBSP Cocoa (more if you like it), 3/4 cup sugar, 3 TBSP flour, 2 cups of milk (or 1 cup evaporated milk & 1 cup of water), 1/2 tsp vanilla extract.

Directions: Mix cocoa, flour and sugar in heavy sauce pan until smooth. Add milk and whisk over medium heat constantly until thickened. (It may take longer than you think but don’t stop whisking because it may burn!) When it thickens, add vanilla flavoring. Serve over homemade biscuits and gobs of butter.

Betty, mom’s oldest sister, was married to Bill Ramey and they had the one son, Donnie.  Grandma had a hard time when she gave birth to Betty.  On Betty’s birthday, she always told about how she was ready to die but when her baby girl was finally born, she felt like she could have run circles around the house; she was that happy.  After Grandma died, Betty’s sisters would have to tell the story on Betty’s birthday because it always made her feel special.  Donnie became a policeman and then a state trooper and finally a crime scene investigator before he eventually retired.  Betty’s husband, Bill, was an alcoholic until the day he almost burned up in a fire while camping.  He was burned all over his body and was in the hospital for a long time.  He finally recovered and never touched a drop of liquor again.  Betty was sure glad about that! 

            Betty was the manager for a bunch of trailer parks.  She was good too.  She didn’t take any monkey business and knew who was lying and who was telling the truth, sort of like Judge Judy.  If they said they didn’t have enough money to pay the lot rent because they had to make the car payment, she would tell them she hoped they liked living in their car.  She was queen of the trailer park AND she had a redwood deck.  Betty died a few years ago.  We all still miss her like crazy.  She was so funny and would crack us up.  Just like Grandma, mama, and all her sisters, she could cook.  I loved to go over to her house when she was making goulash and cornbread.

            Betty loved to laugh.  When all the sisters got together, usually at her house, you never heard so much laughter.  Sometimes they would meet out for lunch and lucky was the person that waited on them because they would pile the tip money on the table. 

            Betty had a little Pekingesedog named, Missy that she had for years.  Missy was the meanest dog and would bite you if you looked at her wrong.  She was so spoiled and even had her own chair in the living room.  You were risking your life if you dared take it, right Kristy?  Later, she got a Yorkie and named her Katy.  Katy was spoiled too and never went outside, but instead used pee pads which were placed all over Betty’s trailer.   You had to jump around them just to get through the house.  Katie was afraid of the grass and she loved to steal money out of your purse.

            My mama’s sister Sue was married to Freddy, who was retired from the Army.  They had one son, Michael or Michael P Duty as we called him.  I always loved my aunt Sue.  She called me Kitten and let me do whatever I wanted.  She worked at Montgomery Ward when they lived in Newport News and I thought she was pretty important.  I have no idea what she did but she had the run of the store and let me have whatever I wanted.  Sue and my uncle Freddy were a pair.  Their favorite past time was fighting.  Some people don’t like to fight but Sue and Freddy thrived on it.  Sue was a little thing and Freddy was probably a little bigger than average but she didn’t care.  He would push her down and she would pop up faster than you could say Boo and be right back in his face.  They loved each other dearly though. 

            One time when my mama was first married to daddy she was staying with my daddy’s parents while he was overseas.  Lottie and Cecil were very strict and made you go to church as my daddy used to say, ‘every time the doors were open.’  Sue and Freddy came by to pick up mama for some fun, since all she did was go to church, and Granny and Granddaddy got real aggravated, him being a bad influence and all.  Freddy had a bumper sticker on his car that said All girls who smoke, put your butts in here, which didn’t give mom’s in-laws much of a good opinion, but mama hopped in anyway. 

            Cousin Michael almost killed me once.  We were all at Grandma and Grandpa’s house in Harmon.  Michael was a lot bigger than me.  He and my brother got the big idea to put me on one end of a board that had a big rock underneath the middle of it.  Michael ran and jumped on the other end propelling me up into the air.  I landed with a huge thud, knocking the breath right out of me, causing him and my brother to think I was dead for a few seconds.  I’m sure I probably exaggerated my injuries and held it over their heads for as long as I could get by with it.

            My aunt Sue was sassy and I hardly ever saw her without a cigarette in her mouth.  One time I drove her to the gas station because she was out of cigarettes.   She bought two packs.  I asked her why she didn’t just buy a whole carton and save some money.  She said, “If I buy a carton I won’t stop until I smoke the whole carton.”  Those cigarettes eventually killed her.  She tried so many times to quit but never could. Sue was also one of the most giving people I ever knew.  She was like Jesus that way.  If you asked to borrow a dollar, she would give you two.  She would give you whatever you needed, even if that left her with nothing. 

            Eula Fay was only sixteen months younger than mama but she was pretty feisty. She was married to Marion (mom’s family pronounced it Murian).  Mama said Eula whipped her every day of her life growing up.  Sandy, mama’s youngest sister, said that when Eula was out on a date, she would come home and make Sandy leave her warm spot in the bed so she could have it.  All the girls slept in the same bed, piled up.  Eula was always popular and outgoing and everyone knew her and loved her.  She always had boys chasing after her. 

            Eula Fay and Marion had two children, Beth and Anthony.  They lived in Big Rock when I was younger.  Anthony, aka Ant Ant, was closest to me in age but just a little bit younger.  He used to lay all the other cousins pictures down at Grandma’s house because he was jealous.  Grandma used to have to go around after he left her house, putting all the pictures back up.  He would also hide behind a tree when he saw the school bus coming.  Eula would have to call Grandma to tell her to take him to school again.  Eula Fay had a beauty shop in her house and was always busy giving perms and haircuts.  She gave me my first permanent when I was in the 8th grade during our school Christmas break.  She cut my long, straight hair in layers too so that when I went back to school, nobody recognized me.  I wore it that way for many years.  I loved to play around in her shop.  One time, when we were teenagers, Anthony asked me to trim his beard (what little he had) with a straight edge.  I said, “Sure!”  I sliced his neck and blood began pouring, scaring us both to death.

            One year at Christmas, I got some Play Dough, which I was so excited about.  I had all different colors only to wake up in the morning and find that all of my Play Dough had been squished together, making an ugly, swirly mess.  I’m still not sure which cousin did it but I had my suspicions.  Beth, aka Bessie Bo, Eula’s daughter was the likely suspect.   Beth was a couple of years older than me and just a little younger than Michael and my brother.  They didn’t like to play with her because she always smelled like onions (because she liked to eat them).  We have a picture of the three of them only because Michael and Kenny got paid to have their picture made with her.  Today, Beth is the chief nurse at the Clinch Valley Medical Center.  She is also beautiful and no longer smells like onions.

             My aunt Eula also got me a hamster one year, only because I had begged and begged while we were at a store in downtown Grundy.  It was white and looked more like a rat.  We brought the poor thing home in the little box they gave us, no food, no cage or any of the many things you need when buying a hamster.  We found a bigger box and put some shredded paper in it.  Sometime during that first night it escaped.  Our dog, Titch, must have chased it all over the house until the poor thing had a heart attack and died, or so that’s what my mama told me.   When my kids were young, I bought them a couple of hamsters; Little Bit and Bob.  I found out Little Bit was a female one day when I walked in out found them carrying on.  She eventually had babies and we found homes for them.  My youngest, Sam, was about 7 or 8 when he found Little Bit dead.  I said, “How do you know she’s dead?”  He cried, “Because she’s hard!”  I nodded thinking he deduced that pretty good.  Eula got liver cancer, shocking us all.  After she died, her husband Marion died soon after. 

            Sandy, mama’s youngest sister, was first married to Curtis Shortridge.  They had Kristy, but their marriage didn’t last.  She then married Jerry from Paris, Texas.  He went to college with Farrah Fawcett.  When Sandy and Jerry were dating, mom invited them over for dinner so we could all get to know them.  My brother and I ate with Kristy at the kids table in the kitchen while the grownups sat in the dining room.  I’m not sure whose bright idea it was but being the older cousins and all, we wanted to impress Jerry so we taught Kristy the song, Beans, Beans, good for your heart, the more you eat, the more you fart and then encouraged Kristy to sing it to her soon to be step-daddy.  We got in trouble good for that one but thankfully they got married anyway and are still married today. They had a son, Corey, or Corey Dorey, as we liked to call him.  I was 12 when he was born and I thought he was my baby. Kristy used to call me Kareno and then when Corey was little he started calling me Narno because he couldn’t pronounce his K’s.  They lived in the same neighborhood we did when Corey was a baby so I would babysit sometimes.  One day when school was out because of snow, I went to their house and found Corey in his playpen all covered in poop.  Sandy was long gone to work by then but I cleaned him up because I loved him so much, even though I gagged the whole time.

            I think I get my love of writing from Sandy.  She loves to write poems.  Maybe I can get her to let me post one of her poems.  Sandy and mama are the only sisters left, but before Betty, Sue and Eula died, they would have a special Christmas get together just for them.  Sandy would write poems to commemorate the occasion.  They were all close.  Seeing their relationships made me long for a sister of my own.  They always had so much fun together.  I loved being around them, listening to their conversations.  There was never a dull moment.  I learned all kinds of stuff because nobody was off limits.  They talked about everyone.

            When we were little Kristy, aka Cricket, and I use to drag out all of Grandma’s scraps of material she used for slips and panties, wrapping them around us like we were wearing fancy ball gowns.  Grandma liked to sew and made slips and panties (that’s what she always called them) for everyone.  I still have her pattern for her own panties.  I really didn’t like to wear her homemade panties.  She must have thought my legs were the size of a bean pole.  The panties would cut off my circulation causing pain and I wasn’t into pain, being a big baby and all.  Kristy was a Thumb sucker and she had this thing where she had to rub her silky panties between her fingers while she sucked.  If she didn’t have any silkies on she would have to rub yours.

            Besides clothes, Grandma would make pillows and potholders too.  I have some potholders stockpiled in bags so I don’t ever run out.  They’re all in wild colors too, made out of material she found on sale.  They’re really great but very flammable.  I’ve caught a few on fire.  Grandma also crocheted Afghans and butterflies which she would glue on googly eyes and magnets to hang on your refrigerator.

            Uncle Garry was married to Debbie, divorced Debbie and then married her again and divorced her again.  He then married Sabrina and they had a daughter, Elaina.  Garry and Sabrina divorced and now he’s been with Sue (not Aunt Sue) for about 30 years but they can’t agree on the day they met in February so they just celebrate the whole month.  Elaina is the youngest of the grandkids.  She got to live with Grandma the better part of her childhood, which made Grandma extra happy.  Elaina was one of those grandkids who have fond memories of watching soap operas with their grandma.  She still laughs about it today and remembers Victor Newman from Young and the Restless and also Sami from Days of our Lives.  Grandma used to say that ‘mean old Sami’ because she was always up to no good.  Elaina is a very talented musician and went to ETSU on a full band scholarship.  She can sing and play the guitar like her daddy.  Garry still plays the drums and guitar and puts a lot of his music on YouTube. 

            We moved back to the states when I was about 4 years old.  We lived in Navy Housing next to the military airport in Norfolk, Virginia.  The whole duplex would shake; loud thundering jets coming and going all hours of the night.  Everyone got use to it so it didn’t seem to be a big deal.  My brother and I loved living there because there were a lot of kids to play with.  I was about 5 years old when I taught myself to ride a bike, going up and down the sidewalks until I could ride without falling over.  

In 1970, I was 5 years old and Loretta’s song, Coal Miner’s Daughter, came out.  I can just imagine the thrill of mama, her sisters and coal miner’s daughters everywhere.  Just like Loretta, mom and her sisters grew up poor but happy and loved.  Grandpa worked hard in the mines and Grandma worked hard making sure everyone was fed and taken care of, which wasn’t easy with little money and so many kids.

Daddy must have gotten a promotion while he was in the Navy because we soon moved from Norfolk and bought a house in Virginia Beach.  It was a big, 4 bedroom house in a nice neighborhood.  I had skipped kindergarten but by that time, I had to go to school because apparently you couldn’t skip first grade.  We had lots of kids running around in our neighborhood, even some other Navy brats.  Military families become very close, not having a lot of family around.  I’m still friends with some of those brats today, thanks to Facebook.  Hey Carol and Johnny, Melva Rae and Butch, Tammy and Chris, and Marissa and David! 

Johnny reminded me of our parents taking us out one weekend to ride motorbikes.  We have some funny videos of the parents riding, especially Johnny and Carol’s mother, Peggy.  You can see her husband, Doug, following behind her, afraid she’s going to fall off.  I guess I was too young to ride at that time but daddy was always real good about getting my brother mini-bikes, go karts and fun stuff like that.  When we were teenagers, my brother had an off-road motorcycle and he let me sit on the front to steer the bike, which was unfortunate, because I ran us right into a tree. 

Growing up back then was a lot different than it is today.  We were running around the whole neighborhood, not a care in the world.  Mama was just glad to get us out of the house.  She didn’t work and she was a little obsessed with cleaning the house.  I’m not exaggerating either.  She would literally dust and vacuum every day.  If you walk in her house today, I can guarantee you that there’s not a thing out of place but don’t open her drawers or closets (or mine either). 

            Our neighbors next door in Virginia Beach had a daughter my age.  She had a big walk-in closet in her bedroom that had been turned into a playroom.  I thought that was the coolest room ever and really liked her until she formed a club. For some reason she decided she didn’t like me and didn’t want anyone else to like me either so the club was for ‘All Kids Who Hated Karen.’  I was devastated at the time but now I think back and figured she was jealous of me for some reason.  My friends all felt bad but she talked everyone into joining her club.  That was my first experience with a bully.  I don’t know whatever came of her.  I had another friend that lived across the street.  She was English and was a little older than me.  She had this extra small bike and I thought it was the cutest bike ever She talked me into trading my regular size bike for the little bike because it was way too small for her.  I remember saying later that I wanted my bike back (after the cuteness wore off) but she said it was a done deal.  I cried to my mom but she wouldn’t ask for my bike back.  Mama said she hoped I learned my lesson. 

            Mama was very strict back then, not that you would know it today.  She’d let her grandkids and great grandkids get by with murder.  She did not spare the rod and we often had to go outside and pick out our own switches.  Of course, we would pick the wimpiest switches we could find.  My brother and I got in trouble one time; although for the life of me I can’t remember why.  She took us to the garage to give us a whipping.  I went first because brother always made me go first, for whippings, shots and anything else he was scared of.  I took my whipping and then stood there watching my brother get his turn.  He started carrying on something awful, squalling like she was killing him, dancing around in a circle while mama tried to hang on to him.  I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my mouth because it was so funny.  My mom, seeing the humor as well, tried to keep at it but she started laughing too.

            My dad whipped me and my brother one time.  He said, “This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you.”  I don’t remember the actual whipping but I do remember thinking, how’s it going to hurt you?  He was really mad at us.  He had some dirty cartoon books in his office desk drawer.  They had naked ladies on them.  My brother and I showed them to our friends and embarrassed my dad to death.  I felt really bad at the time because my dad hardly ever got mad at us.

            Our elementary school was in the neighborhood so we all walked to school.  We also had a 7-11 market close by.  On mother’s day, my brother and I wanted to walk there so we asked mama for some money so we could by her a present.  We were so proud because we found some panty hose but unfortunately we didn’t pay any attention to the size and we got some extra-large.  Mama carried on like it was the best present ever.

            Virginia Beach was really growing but the coolest thing I remember about it was Mount Trashmore which was an old dump that was covered with dirt until it was the size of a small mountain.  Virginia Beach also had a lot of toll booths.  Mama got a ticket one time because she didn’t have any dimes and threw in a penny instead.  There was also the underground tunnel on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge which was pretty cool. 

            Halloween was always fun with a huge neighborhood full of kids except my mom was never very good at creating costumes or buying them.  Casper masks were very popular and of course we liked to dress up like gypsies or Indians.  My brother would throw his loot in his closet and I would sneak in and eat it a little at a time.  He had bunk beds and I would often sleep in his room because he didn’t mind.  He always thought there was a monster in the closet and you know, safety in numbers and all.

            By this time it was the early 70’s.  I have to say that I’m so glad I grew up in that era.  We grew up watching cool shows like The Brady Bunch, The Munsters and Scooby Doo.  Stranger Danger wasn’t a thing back then so we could play outside and run around, having the time of our lives.  By that time, daddy wasn’t gone overseas as much, and mama didn’t work.  Daddy was in his mid-30’s about that time and finally decided to quit smoking.  He said he always kept a pack in his shirt pocket.  Most people would be too tempted to smoke with them that close at hand but he felt the opposite.  He said it made him less anxious until one day another fella asked him for a smoke and daddy gave him the whole pack and then that was it. 

            Mama said I wasn’t going to be born in the Naval Hospital like my brother, which made her lay for hours by herself, not a cool rag or ice chip in sight.  She said she yelled and screamed a lot but nobody bothered to check on her until she was finally ready to deliver her baby.  She was by herself, no family to support her.  Brother was over 8 pounds which was huge for her tiny frame.  He came out all red and scrunched up; scaring her to death (she was expecting a little blond, cherub looking baby like her sister Sue had had a few months before).  My brother had a head full of black hair which needed to be trimmed by the time he was six months old.  Mama took him to the barber shop, on orders from my daddy because he didn’t want his son to look like a girl.  Before she knew it, they proceeded to shave his head with the clippers.  Brother had improved on his looks by then and looked pretty cute, until he had a buzz cut.  Mama cried.

            While daddy was overseas, I was born in Buchanan General Hospital, the old one in town before the flood demolished it.  I was only 6 pounds but apparently my claim to fame was giving my mama a bad case of the hemorrhoids.  I also had black hair which stuck out all over my head.  Some people may think I’m a natural blond since I’ve been coloring my hair since my 20’s but my roots are still pretty dark.  I was a few months old before I even met my daddy.  Welcome home!  Here’s your new daughter!  Daddy now had a boy and a girl and mama said I’m done and you’re welcome.

            Mama always told me I was a good baby until I got pneumonia when I was 3 months old.  She said she had to take me off the ‘titty’ because in those days you couldn’t visit your baby in the hospital (mama and grandma always called boobs titties, which use to embarrass me to death).  Mama’s ‘titties’ dried up by the time I got out of the hospital and I lived on evaporated milk and Karo syrup after that.  Can you imagine giving a baby evaporated milk now?  You’d probably be arrested for child endangerment.  Unlike my brother, I have never liked plain milk and it makes me sick to my stomach to even smell it.  When I was little, mama made me sit at the table until I finished my milk.  I would sit there patiently staring at the vile stuff until she got aggravated and let me get up.

            Before I was even 2 years old, we all moved to Scotland where daddy was stationed.  Daddy sailed over the Atlantic with his buddies on a Naval ship, while mama took a toddler and a 4 year old on a plane; my brother screaming his head off with an ear infection.  Back then, you did what you had to do but I can’t imagine how hard it was for her, leaving her family with two small children in tow.  To a young country girl with two small kids, it must have been exciting and a little bit daunting at the same time.  Once there, she had to find us a place to live, with furniture.  Things in Scotland were a bit different than they were back in the states.  Mama stepped up and took care of business.  We never had a lot but mama always made sure we had a nice place to live. 

            Brother was old enough to go to pre-school, which he did, and soon came home talking like the other kids, with a Scottish accent.  Mama didn’t know what to think.  Today, my brother is as country as you can get, the Scottish accent long gone.   His favorite greeting now is, “Whatya say now?!”  ‘What do you’ being all one word.   And he talks real loud. He used to love to hunt but not so much anymore.  His first gun was a BB gun that he got from our aunt Eula.  She gave it to him because her son accidentally shot my brother with it. 

            I don’t remember much from our time in Dunoon, Scotland (close to Glasgow) but I do remember my brother and I getting our picture made in a kilt.  I wasn’t having it and threw a fit but they finally got a shot which I still have today.  Mama still couldn’t do anything with my hair so she kept it short and manageable.  I looked like a boy.  She wouldn’t let my hair grow out until I was old enough to fight the tangles on my own.  I still fight with it every time it’s wet but I don’t want to look like a boy.  Mama loves bangs and didn’t want me to let them grow out, even after I begged and begged.  Grandma finally talked her into letting me grow them out when I was in the 5th grade or so. It’s funny that when she was young, she wanted to cut them and when I was young, I wanted to grow them out.

            Daddy had an old movie projector so we have lots of movies from our time there.  We camped on the banks of the Loch Ness, went to the Edinburgh Zoo, toured castles and spent lots of time with other Navy families.  Mom and dad had a German Shepherd named Duke and he was a hot mess.  Mom said she couldn’t go out of the house without him tearing up something, whether it was chewing up boxes of cereal and dumping them on the bed or pulling the curtains down.  When he got too hard to handle and control, they donated him to the police.  Still wanting a dog, they got Yorkshire Terriers instead, male and female.  That was the beginning of our love with Yorkies.  Their names were Scottish; Titch and Tuppence. 

            We have a lot of pictures from our time in Scotland but they’re not the best quality.  In the videos and pictures of my dad, he almost always had a cigarette in his hand.  He said he started sneaking cigarettes when he was only 13 years old.  He smoked until he was about 35 years old.  In that time span, it did affect his lungs and he developed COPD.  As I write this blog, he died two weeks ago, March 22, 2022, a little after 7:00 in the morning.  Besides Alzheimers, Parkinson’s and COPD, he also contracted COVID while he was in the nursing home, even after his vaccines and booster. My sweet step-mother, Evelyn took such great care of him but I know he’s glad to be in heaven now.

When I was younger, daddy had a hard time showing his emotions but as he got older he couldn’t tell you he loved you enough.  ‘I love you’ were the only words I heard him say when he didn’t (or couldn’t) say anything else.  Evelyn said he told her he loved her every day multiple times a day.   I don’t know why he went through all he did towards the end but I do know God had a reason.  I’m always telling people I love them.  You never know what will happen tomorrow.  I remember my daddy with love and I will always cherish the love he had for me. 

Leave a comment if you like the blog. I’m going to try and add to it every Wednesday. Thanks for all of the positive comments here and on Facebook. Your support is greatly appreciated!!!!

I WAS BORNED A COAL MINER’S GRANDDAUGHTER BUT MY DADDY JOINED THE NAVY

What you’re about to read is all true, to the best of my recollection.

            I never lived in Grundy, Virginia but I was born there because my daddy was overseas at the time.  Mama went to stay with her parents so she would have a little help with my brother, Kenny, who was almost 3.  My husband’s name is also Kenny and my dad goes by Ken.  Yes it’s a little confusing but I usually say Kenny, brother Kenny or daddy to keep it all straight.

            Grandma Lessie and Grandpa Fred lived in Belcher’s Fork, which was at the mouth of Harmon, which was close to Convict Hollow.  The mouth of Hoot Owl wasn’t close but I used to like to say that.  They used terms, like ‘hollers’ and ‘mouth of’ which I didn’t think much about when I was little but now I think they’re kind of funny.  Grandpa worked in the coal mines his whole life and Grandma took care of him, even until the end when his lungs were full of coal dust.  He was only 68 when he died.

            Grandma grew up in Prater and Grandpa grew up in Sandlick, all close to Haysi.  You have to go over Big A mountain to get there.  I asked my aunt Sandy one time what the A stood for and she said Big A$$.  She was being smart. 

            Grandma’s parents were Louisa and Wiley Viers.  Wiley was a farmer and also a furniture maker.  Louisa was pronounced Lou-i-zee.  Louisa died when Grandma was only five years old.  Her siblings were oldest to youngest; Josie, Charlie, Jessie, Mary, Alta (pronounced Al-tee), Lessie, and Myrtle.  Wiley, trying to raise a passel of children, got married again to a lady with two daughters.  This very wicked stepmother had two very wicked daughters.  Grandma would tell me horrible things they all did to make her and her siblings miserable.  Of course when Wiley was around they were all sweet as pie.  The stepmother eventually got sick and asked for forgiveness on her death bed for being so mean.  Wiley married again and had two more daughters. 

Grandma was a looker when she was younger and had all kinds of fellas come to call.  She told me one fella was so overcome he chased her around the dining room table, trying to kiss her.  Wiley wouldn’t let them cut their hair but Grandma and her younger sister, Myrtle, cut their bangs secretly, always wearing it pulled back in a barrette when they were around their daddy.  That was pretty much the extent of them ‘acting out.’ 

            Once Lessie met Fred, she was smitten.  Grandpa’s parents were Jason and Martha Raines.  Jason was also a farmer and a carpenter but instead of building furniture, he built houses.  He said they would cut timber and send the logs down the Levisa river.  Grandpa’s mother, Martha, died when he was a teenager.  Jason married again, and Fred didn’t take very kindly to his new stepmother so he moved in with his aunt and uncle.  Mama said that Jason was a rounder, meaning the ladies really liked him and he liked the ladies. 

            Once grandma and grandpa got married, they got pretty busy and had six children.  There were five girls; Betty Lou, Joyce Sue, Wanda Gay (my mama), Eula Fay, Sandra Kay and then wonder of wonders, a son was finally born, Garry Fred, aka Buffer.  We liked to compare him to the other Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior.  He was spoiled and rotten and only ten years older than me.  He was a long haired, guitar pickin’, drum playin’ cutie and absolutely the coolest uncle ever.   He wasn’t much older than my oldest cousin Donnie, Betty’s son.  He liked to pick on and aggravate Donnie, calling him names.  Donnie told on him once and said Garry called him a Bass turd. 

            My Daddy’s family was from around Deel but they moved around a lot.  Lottie was a beautician and had her own beauty shop.  Cecil was a coal miner too but he also had a lot of other jobs.  I didn’t get to spend much time with them when I was younger because they moved to Florida the year I was born, in 1965.  I made up for it later and spent a lot of time with them when my children were young. 

            Granny was a hoot!  While my husband, Kenny, was working at the racetrack covering the Daytona 500, the boys and I would stay with Granny.  By this time she was a little forgetful.  She could remember the past but not one minute to the next.  The kids would all try to play tricks on her but she would laugh as big as anyone else.  One of our favorite things about her would be her language.  For example, someone else would say, “Who let that fart?”  Granny would say, “Which one of you fellers let a crack?”

            I think I get my personality from my Granny.  She loved to laugh.  Her maiden name was Looney.  Lottie Looney.  You had to be happy with a name like that.  Granddaddy was more of sour pus.  Granny said it was because he didn’t have a daddy and he was picked on a lot when he was a kid.  He learned to fight back or he would be beat up.  Granny said she married him because she felt sorry for him but I know she loved him a lot.  They had five kids.  Oldest to youngest were:  Ruby, Kenneth (my dad), Patrick, Charles and Jerry.  I have lots of cousins on my daddy’s side too but we didn’t get to spend a lot of time with them growing up. 

I’ve attached some photos to let you know who I’m talking about. Let me know if you like my blog and if I get enough response, I’ll add to it.