About Me~, Uncategorized, world affairs, Writing

What’s It Really Worth?

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A million dollars. Say someone walks up to you and just gives you a million dollars . No strings attached. They don’t want anything from you, you don’t have to do anything for it, they don’t need anything from you, they just walk up to you , hand it to you , and walk away. What would you buy? Do you immediately know? Do you have a list? It’s funny isn’t it? Suddenly you have all this money , it’s yours just to blow ! I’ve had this very scenario in my head a dozen times. And you know what? I can’t think of a SINGLE thing I’d rush out and buy. Not one.It just suddenly doesn’t seem all that important anymore.  My home is paid for. It might not be what anyone else would call a mansion , but I’ve never cared about that. The land it sits on belonged to my Pappaw , who thought it the most beautiful spot of land in the world, so beautiful that he died here, which makes it worth more than money to me.  My van is paid for. It’s not new, but it goes up and down the road. That’s what cars are supposed to do , right? Take you up and down the highway? I’ve got clothes to keep me warm, clothes to keep me cool , blankets to cover up the beds, food in the icebox, a couple of old dogs to bark if company comes. My Momma and Daddy are still living, right next door.Some things money just can’t buy. There’s no price tag you can attach. To happiness. To the people you find it with. Or the memories you made with them.  I find it funny sometimes to see all those people in the magazines and on the television shows talking about how their houses cost more money than most of us will ever see in our lifetimes. More money than our entire state budgets even. Then you read that they get divorced, remarried,  and all the unhappiness that follows them. You wonder if maybe they wouldn’t be a little better to follow the advice of John Anderson in that old song “Black Sheep”.

My daddy was a brakeman on a highball traveling train
Mama she raised four little children and the family had a good name
And papa and mama wanted all for us they never had
Big brother little brother sister too none of them turned out half bad
‘Cept me I’m the black sheep of the family

Big brother went to college and became a doctor man
I guess he makes about a million dollars a year off the folks on insurance plans
He’s got a big long Mercedes Benz and a house overlooking the town
He sits in his Jacuzzi and he watches the sun go down
And he feels real sorry for me, I’m the black sheep of the family

Yeah I drive me a big ol’ semi truck I’m makin’ payments on a two room shack
My wife she waits on tables and at night she rubs my back
And I tell her what my papa said to my mama when he got off the highball train
Wake me up early be good to my dogs and teach my children to pray

Little sister married a banker yeah he owns a country club
He bought her a big ol’ racing horse and a funky lookin’ little dog
He buys her big rings and diamonds and a brand new Japanese yacht
Yeah, they like to get together and talk about all the things they’ve got
But they never mention me, naw,  I’m the black sheep of the family

Yeah, I drive me a big ol’ semi truck I’m makin’ payments on a two room shack

My wife she waits on tables and at night she rubs my back

And I tell her what my papa said to my mama when he got off the highball train,

Wake me up early be good to my dogs, and teach my children to pray.

I beg ya woman, wake me up early , be good to my dogs, and teach my children to pray.

 

Seems like maybe we could all do worse than to live our lives a little more like that.

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About Me~, Uncategorized, Writing

A Bible, a Bogg, and a Blessing ~

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It’s been a crazy couple of weeks here the last couple of weeks, at our house. We’ve been getting ready for “Bogg Week”. For those of you scratching your heads just now, that’s Arkansas Southern Baptist speak for Bogg Springs Baptist camp week. A whole week of craziness that requires packing enough clothes for two teenagers that seemingly turns into enough clothes for an army. Yet somehow they return home with clothes for not even ONE child. They go clean , excited, and revved. They decamp; dirty, tired, but spiritually revived, and having made new friends. I know a lot of people think how great it is to have their kids gone from their house . Well, let me tell you. I am NOT one of them. I enjoy their noise, I enjoy the energy that their big growing teenage bodies fill our house with. I do NOT enjoy knowing that they are not here down the hall in their room; THAT  is a very empty feeling indeed. So my bedside Bible has been a particular comfort these last couple of days. As they are 15 and 17 , I know soon enough they will make career choices that will take them far away from me. I WILL be happy, I SWEAR!! 🙂 I will be proud! It will mean I have done what I set out to do , those very short years ago, to send them out clean, excited , and revved. And to let them know , it’s always okay, to come home and decamp; dirty, tired, so that you can spiritually revive. Home should always be like that . It is your greatest blessing. I know mine still is. Today , finding myself in need of a little bit of that refreshment myself, I hied myself up the hill to the shade of the old oak  and rocked with my Daddy awhile. So whether it’s the Bible, the Bogg, the old oak, or wherever you find yourself today, don’t forget you CAN still  find your refreshment in God today.

About Me~, Uncategorized, Writing

Biscuits, Bay Rum and Chocolate Gravy

 

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The smells all start to swirl before you ever even open the door. Hot pancake syrup, and homemade biscuits. It calls to you , like your grandmother’s kitchen from long ago. Like cast iron stoves , with wood stoked to just the right temperature. They open early , and if you’re local you know, the time to get your breakfast is when the sun is just starting to show,  over the mountain above the lake.  The elderly gents put on their Sunday’s bests , and gather in the same groups that they’ve formed in since I was a child. The waitresses know just how everyone wants their coffee, and by unspoken reservation, certain corners are set aside for the chosen few.  Being here brings back the memories of my wooden gangly -legged days when my body was  stuck somewhere between being my PapPaw’s farm hand , and the beginnings of a “real” girl.

Now that I’m all grown up I love sitting in the corner, and letting the smell of Old Bay Rum aftershave, tractor grease from the farmer’s overalls, crispy bacon ,and  chocolate gravy wash over me . You don’t need a computer, or a phone, most of the time, the waitresses and patrons are more than happy to chat with you about the weather, what’s growing in their gardens, or just how life’s treatin’ them in general. No one’s going to hurry you off from your table, the waitress is happy to come top off your coffee , as many times as you want.  So fill yourself up with sausage,  a great fried egg, or  maybe even a flapjack bigger than your head. Just sitting here in the Cafe’ will show you a slice of what life is like in our little town. The people are friendly, the food is good, and it will show you why, we enjoy livin’ life in the slow lane.

Lots of big cities might have all that variety, and excitement, and when the tourists come, and ask that question, that they all can’t help but ask, “What do you DO here??”  I’d tell them, “Go on down to Em’s Cafe’ for breakfast. Sit and drink coffee. Set a spell and visit.”, and it won’t take you long  , til you figure out, just what it IS we DO here. And who knows, ya’ just might like it.

About Me~, Fae, Uncategorized, Writing

All The Best People Are ~

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I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to go mad. I was sure I was. Absolutely bonkers. So.  I walked out. It was SO beautiful outside today. I just couldn’t stay cooped up in this house one single minute more. I literally felt as though I had no air. I told my sons I am going to walk to Maw and Paw’s. If it kills me. I mean it very well could have I suppose . It’s only next door, not even a mile. But me and being upright, we don’t really gee-haw. The world quite fantastically becomes topsy-turvy , and not in the fun, Through-The-Looking-Glass -Sense, but in the I need the emergency care sense. But I just couldn’t take it anymore. I love being outdoors more than anything. Being basically sofa and bed bound is soul-crushing.  The same views. The windows. The monotonous television, computer, and even as much as I love them, yes, books.  I mean my husband has done amazing things for me outside my windows, so that I have my bird feeders. He keeps my plants , vintage lamps, and green glass insulators situated in the lights so that they are sparkling. Those are all wonderful things. But oh, today. I just missed it so much . Did you ever just long for the smell of the woods, and the feel of the wind, and the sound of the gravel crunching under your feet? Walking to my parents should have been a five minute walk. It took my son and me  nearly half an hour. I went very slow and very steady. The joy though! The deep green of the moss on the creek bank . The birds flying over from the oak where Grandpa used to sit in his old cast iron farm chair. I kicked the sand up with my bare feet even in the cold and even in my exhaustion it was the most glorious I had felt in what seemed like forever. I know when I appeared at their door, my parents thought I had indeed, “Gone round the bend.” so I assured that “Oh yes! I was. But then again . All the best people are.”   My sweet Daddy did do me the courtesy of a ride , so I didn’t have to walk back. But maybe we all need  a little bit of insanity sometimes ………..just to really feel sane.

About Me~, Writing

Where Ya’ll From ?

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I just got reminded of something recently . Haven’t thought about it in a while , but some things that got said on the wild and wacky world of FaceBook made me recall it.  Apparently, I have an accent. A Southern one. HA! 🙂 The conversation had started over one of those quizzes that people take on FB. You know the ones I mean; Which color are you?  Can we guess your home state? What magical creature are you? and on it goes.  Well, they had this quiz on there , “Can you translate these southern sayings?” .  So. I’m just going to come right out and say it. I don’t know what people they were talking to but it was NOT anybody from anywhere near the South. I seriously had NEVER heard any of the things they had listed , and don’t know of anyone who has. So in the interest of telling it like it is, let me share with you some true deep South sayin’s.

1. More nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs.

(You’re pretty nervous.)

2. That fence\house\wall is cattywhomped.

(It’s crooked. )

3. Those two just do not geehaw with one another.

(When a team of animals are taught to pull gee is the command to go left and haw the command to go right, they have to work together to accomplish their task, so this saying means ”They don’t get along.”)

4. Ugly as homemade soap.

(You’re in a bad way ugly)

Somebody whooped you with an ugly stick. ( Same thing)

5. I’m feelin’ so poorly, I’d have to get better to die.

(You’re pretty sick.)

6. His bread’s in the oven , but the gas ain’t on.

Dumber than a bag of hammers.

(Both ways of saying of saying someone is very dumb.)

7. Drunker than Cooter Brown.

(Although I have heard this expression from lots of people I never have learned who Cooter was or why he was so drunk.)

8. Don’t mollycoddle that kid.

(You’re spoiling them, and letting them get away with way too much.)

9, The Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.

(Meaning , if it’s supposed to happen it will.)

10. You’re payin’ for your raisin’.

( Your child is just like you, and now you are regretting being such a brat to your parents. )

And so on it goes.  So there’s a taste of something real.  I mean , after all , real Southern accents are made by sweet tea sippin’ , front porch sittin’, magnolia bloomin’, swingin’ slow, muggy hot summers.  I suppose maybe those quiz people were just doing the best they could , “Bless their little ole hearts. ”    😀

About Me~, Writing

Beautiful~

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My husband took me out for a drive up around the lake that’s about 7 miles from where we live yesterday. They call Arkansas the Natural State for good reason. If you live here, there is pretty much a lake, stream , river, pond, or body of water of some sort near driving distance from where you live. People hunt here, they fish, there are more critters of the furry , scaled, flying, and feathered variety than you could shake a stick at. We have huge loblolly pines, cedars, oaks, practically any kind of tree you could imagine. I love it here.

During my childhood I spent more time outdoors than I EVER spent in. I was a wildling. I hated bathing, combing my hair only when made to, did not wear shoes, rode a horse everywhere , went without a shirt  , dressed as a boy; people thought my Dad had three daughters and ONE son, and he most of the time did not bother to correct them.  Two of my favorite things , other than riding, were to climb the tallest tree I could find, and the other, were to go up what we called ‘ the dirt road’  and lay in Mr. Plant’s pasture for hours and just watch the clouds go by overhead. There is something so amazing about just feeling the grass under your back, and smelling the trees, and not having to worry about a single thing.

Then I lost all that. Some crazy illness from the pit of wherever these things come from stole that from me. The very sunshine itself made me sick. I couldn’t even get out in it. It were as if I became a vampire. A pale shadow of myself. Smelling the grass made me break out into hives. Pine trees made me come down with infections so severe I ‘d need antibiotics.  Heck. I couldn’t even climb a tree without becoming so winded I ‘d feel like passing out. The fatigue was unbelievable.

Fast forward 15 plus years to yesterday and the ride round the lake I was telling you about. I have lupus and assorted other things . We know that now. I deal. The thing is,  I have bad spells . I get really sick, so I hadn’t been out , not really ,in so very long, because the problem I’ve been dealing with lately is what they call syncope. That’s a fancy word for passing out. Kissing the carpet.  Not fun. No drives. Heh. Shoot. No sitting up for very long without feeling light headed. But I’ve felt better the last couple of weeks so up to the lake we went.  It was spectacular. Everything was greener than I have ever seen it. Suddenly a tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. The minute it does my husband starts to pull the car over thinking I’m getting sick. ” What’s wrong? Are you okay?!?” he asked nervously.  “Yeah. Yes. Yes. It’s  just so beautiful.”