FaceBook’s an interesting place these days. It’s funny because you can start a conversation with just one sentence and 5 minutes later literally people from all over the world are joining in with their opinions on what got said. Here in Arkansas we just recently wrapped up deer season . We live in LA ( Lower Arkansas) 🙂 and hunting and fishing is a way of life for a large majority of people here. In my family it goes back so many generations it is even traced in our family’s surnames. My maiden name WAS DEER. My husband’s name is WOODS. So quite literally it is in our blood. When I was barely big enough to walk my Daddy would put me in a sleeping bag and tote me into the woods, , prop me up against a tree, and let me sleep while he waited for the deer or squirrel to come by. I didn’t realize at the time , we didn’t just do this for fun, we ate wild meat like rabbit, deer, squirrel, because it was cheap, and we were not just the richest people in the world. The funny thing is we ate so well we never noticed. But back to FaceBook. We got into a conversation about the “RIGHT” way to prepare deer meat. Practically everyone said you must, you just simply MUST skin and soak the deer meat in ice and salt water for several days before pounding it tender and thin and cooking it. Well, my husband , myself and my family had NEVER heard of such a thing! My husband can clean and skin a deer faster than just about any person I’ve ever seen . He makes those fellas in the butcher shops look like amateurs, lol. But he’s had lots of practice. When he gets a deer and hangs it to butcher , he skins it, and quarters up the tenderloins . Then I’m cutting it up in the kitchen , pounding it flat, salting and peppering it, putting a little flour on it, and frying it thin and crispy . Pour a little milk, flour, and salt back in the pan, and stir. Making the thickest creamiest white gravy you ‘ve ever seen. Just the way my Daddy used to do it. So not only does it taste out of this world, to eat it reminds me of sitting next to that old oak in my sleeping bag, waiting for Daddy to say, “I got one. We can go now.” So many memories. Food for thought. Food for the body. Food for my soul.
It’s getting to be that time of the year again. The time of year when reasonably sane people lose all sense of power over their own mind and wallets. When they turn into people pushing , cart running over, that last item in the aisle is mine rabid 2 am Black Friday shoppers. Yep. It’s the holidays. I used to love the holidays. I used to love Thanksgiving and Christmas. Thanksgiving because, it meant my Daddy was home, and he helped my mom make turkey and dressing. We watched the parade, and my sister and I ironed our clothes for our churches youth convention which was the day after Thanksgiving. Dinner was family gathered around the table , and then groaning on the sofa because you ate too much while watching television. After everyone napped for a couple of hours we went out in Daddy’s old pickup to look for the perfect Christmas tree. Daddy knew all the best places to look , so we got all bundled up , took the old chain saw and headed out . A cedar tree was usually perfect, , but a pine tree would work if you couldn’t find one. Short, tall , round , oval, we had to find the exact one that would fit in the space in the living room , and Daddy was patient always. Then we sawed down , and hauled home our perfect prize. To be decorated with popcorn strings, and paper rings. Homemade stars, an gingerbread men. Candies and shapes cut from last year’s Christmas cards. The big bulb primary colored lights, and of course loads and loads of tinsel. So Thanksgiving wasn’t about shopping ,and when Christmas rolled around it wasn’t about spending the most money on gifts either . It wasn’t about people’s personalities changing into these horrible troll like monsters with Wal mart buggies determined to run over anyone in their way. Christmas was getting new pajamas , and slippers. Receiving a warm sweater, and a cassette tape of Christmas music. Christmas was going to the elderly neighbors and giving them the gifts we had bought them , always handkercheifs for him , and leather gloves for her. He was a carpenter so he hand built us a wooden gift each year. A dollhouse, a wagon with blocks, a jewelry box, a checker set, wind up helicopters, boats, amazing things! His sweet wife always made some wonderfully tasty treat on her wood cooking stove, peanut brittle, fudge, chocolate chip cookies , divinity candy, all made to melt in your mouth. THAT was Christmas. Not all this shopping. Hurrying to and fro. A party every other weekend. So called “friends” inviting you to an event every night for the holidays. NO time for the family at all. I don’t want my children to remember Christmas by the gifts they received, but by the memories they made, and maybe, just maybe, the holidays will be their favorite time of year too.
The words you said,
and blew my way, like arrows on the wind.
Tore right through my open arms,
for I THOUGHT you were my friend.
I had in mind to reach for you,
and share some special thought,
you passed right by , your only aim,
to take the open shot.
We’d been friends, but now somehow,
you say I don’t belong,
somehow you’re bigger, better, MORE,
and I was just a pawn.
You’ve gathered up your little group,
and circled round to feed,
I was only scrap for you,
now nothing that you need.
Perhaps you think that all are fooled,
and don’t see what I have seen,
but you have cut me deeply,
and God has seen me bleed.
So keep up your game of “I’m so much better”,
and direct your little play,
there’ll come a time when all’s revealed,
and always a price to pay.
I have to start this post out by saying, I am the mother of boys. This will go a long way toward explaining the rest of this post, lol! 🙂
We got a new pet today. Now first , let me say that, we already have 7 dogs, 1 cat, assorted chickens, 3 fish, 1 tarantula, and 2 lizards. So, we probably spend more money on pet care and food , than we do people care and food. My children love critters. And we live in the country on a small sized farm , so I can ‘t use the excuse, “We don’t have room.”
I was always the tomboy growing up, never interested in the girly stuff like dolls and makeup and such. I guess the Lord knew what He was doing when He gave me boys, cause I don’t know if I’d have known what to do with a girl. When I was little I was always coming home with a turtle, or a stray cat. I had hamsters, birds, dogs, horses, goats, chickens, turkeys, just about anything two legged or four, I loved it, so I definitely empathize with my sons about animals.
They were out walking with their Grandma this evening on the farm road, and came across another tarantula. Oldest son decides he needs it, and puts his hat over it , while youngest boy runs home to me to get an oatmeal tin to carry home their prize. I thought my mother was going to have a stroke. She asked me how could I stand it? Knowing that thing is in the same house as you?!? I guess I don’t ever really think about it. They stay in their aquarium habitats, and are really easy to take care of. ( Although, I must confess, I told the boys if it ever escaped , it was subject to extermination.) So needless to say, life around here is never dull. We never lack for company, or furry things to hug. And even though spiders aren’t exactly on my list of huggable things, 🙂 they’re interesting for sure.
So even thought my house might not always be spotless, or magazine perfect, I guess there is something homey about having the kind of house where a little boy can sprawl in the living room floor covered in licking puppies. I want my kiddos to have those kinds of memories to hold on to when they are grown. And I’m loving my little boy, furry, creepy crawly -filled life!
I am soooooooo behind!!! I have just finished 3 weeks of nonstop activity. We had youth fishing derby, then I did ALL the crafts for 50+ kids at VBS for four days. then we took the youth group to the water park, and THEN we packed up and went to the BOGG Springs youth camp, for 3 full days of fun, services, and fellowship. It was hot! 100+ degrees every day, but I actually made it okay. I was very worried if I would be able to keep up. but I think I did alright. The worst part was waiting in line for meals outside, but with my medical conditions, they made it okay for me to go in and sit and then go first in the line. I don’t usually try to use my illness as some type of advantage, but they insisted. Seems like the kids had a good time all around. My oldest son really had a blast and can’t wait to go again next year. I will be better prepared for next year, so it won’t be so much culture shock, lol! It had been about 23 years since I had gone to a church camp. I had to remind myself of how to pack and get everything organized. I enjoyed the fellowship of the other counselors in the dorm, and listening to the teenage girls get around in the morning. By the last day I was there the girls from the other side of the cabin were coming to me for clothes and boy advice. I don’t have daughters so it was a nice (different) experience.
I was however , kind of shocked at the level of disrespect shown by many of the children. The speech and behavior was something I was not prepared for. For instance, I would never have told an adult to “Mind your own business, I am 17. YOU go worry about the little kids.” , or while I was speaking to a child about inappropriate behavior, have the child look away, and say, Is this conversation OVER?!?” with all the eye rolling that entails. And the behavior itself! Stealing, lying, immodest clothing, and outright rebellion. And these were the bigger kids. You expect them to kind of be past that , and showing an example to the younger ones. It was really an eye-opening experience for me.
But all in all, I don’t think it was a terrible outing. I learned a lot , and hope some of the things I said as a counselor made a difference to someone. So, other than exhaustion, a little bit of extra sun, I survived intact. I hope we can work the kinks out, because I’m sure the kids are going to want to go back next year! Now I’m back to blog for a little while, or at least until our next adventure!