Moving On......Going On

Built in 1932, it was the home of my youth.

Just outside Taylorsville, MS (in Smith County).....I remember when Fellowship Road wasn't paved. When it rained, you couldn't drive on it.

I spent almost every holiday and every summer in the little house that sat, about 4 miles, outside town. I was there, with my mother and little brother, as were my aunts and cousins. We loved that house and the woman who lived there......Granny.

After Granny passed away, in 1973, my father was the child who ended up with the "home place."  He and our mother (I had a brother 9 years younger) lived there after Granny died. When mom passed away, in 1993, my husband and I bought my brother's part of the homeplace. 

I NEVER wanted to "retire" to Smith County. I had always wanted to be here when my parents were alive. Once they were gone, it held no allure for me. However, my honey convinced me that we had the property, and this was where we should be.

In 2002, we moved from Astor, Florida (where we had a home, with a deck overlooking the St. John's River) to Taylorsville, MS. 

We built a home and we built a shop and we built a life. 

Life changes.

My honey, who had always been the picture of health was suddenly diagnosed with cancer and after less than 4 years, he was gone. 

I was left in the home that he had designed and built....on my famiy's old "homeplace."  A 3,000 sq foot home that was too much for one (now old) woman.

On this property, was also the house in which our Granny, and then our parents, had lived. We had always planned to "get rid of it" when our father's last living sibling, Aunt Ginny, passed away. The problem was....Bob was diagnosed with cancer and Aunt Ginny passed away soon after. Disposing of that old house, was about the last thing on my (caregiver) mind.

And now, I've decided that's it's time for me to "go on"...or "move on." But to do that, something has to be done with "the old house"....Granny's old house....the house that mom and dad lived in....the house that most of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren grew up in.....the house that everyone knew and loved.

So, on Monday....Grant Blakeney will bury the old house.

There have been requests from cousins that I collect boards....so they can continue to have a part of the little house on Fellowship Road.....or is it that a part of Granny will still be a part of all of us.

This decision hasn't been easy......I've actually fought with it for several years.....but it must be done.

I will NEVER forget when, on the day we were having Uncle James Nicholson's Memorial Luncheon...out here....cousin Tommy Walker looked at Aunt Ginny (as we sat in a rocker, on the front porch of my home)...."if you'd go ahead and die....Sarah could get rid of that house."
Of course, knowing Aunt Ginny as we all did....she laughed heartily and said...."I'll work on that."

It's just "stuff" and "places" and "things"....but that's what makes up a part of our lives. 

It will never be the same...sitting on my porch...and looking across my drive and the old house, with all its memories, not being there. But.....that is how life goes.

We move on. We go on.

Styrofoam, Bubble Wrap and Cardboard may cost plenty...

This little town, in northeastern Iowa, has the best recycling system I have ever seen. Well, actually, probably the only recycling I've seen! Our town, in southern MS doesn't recycle. 

However, we do eat Pickled Pigs Feet (well, some of us do) - isn't that using everything? Would that be considered "recycling."

When I learned that there was recycling and a Recycling Center, I put a big trash can outside the kitchen door, in the Garage, and I began sorting what I thought was recycleable objects into the can. 

We made a trip to the Recycle Center and the "fun" began, as did my knowledge of the "proper" way to recycle. 

Outside, there were three huge (I mean HUGE) trash bins. It will take a Dump Truck to pick those things up! Cardboard was supposed to go into one of them, and I'm not sure about the other two. We either didn't have what they were supposed to hold - or we put what we had in the wrong place! (That sounds more logical.)

Just outside the door to the Recycle Center room were two large wire type containers that might have been chicken coops in an earlier time and place. The sign said, "all bottles must be put in cardboard boxes." Thankfully, we hadn't already put our cardboard boxes into the HUGE container, 'cause we had lots of bottles - wine, you know!! 

The next notice read, "please double knot all bags to keep cans contained." We had no cans, but if we had they would have had to go back home with us.....who takes a trash bag to the Recycle Center?

Now, when I say that I had things "sorted" for recycling - I simply meant everything had been "dumped" into a trash can. So, we go inside said Recycle Center and the "sorting" began. (I really thought we'd take that trash can to the Recycle Center and just "dump" it all into one large container.) Well, NOT!

There were 16 - count 'em - 16 big containers with signs above them regarding what was allowed and what wasn't. 

And we began throwing the plastic into the plastic bin - but milk jugs had to go into a bin all their own. Then there was one for newspapers, one for magazines, one for books (I thought people put those in Garage Sales!), one for "other" paper (and I put nothing there 'cause I wasn't sure just what "other" paper was), and there was a can bin inside, too, (so why would I have to put my cans in a trash bag and put them outside?), and there was "other" plastic (and that's where I put the Bubble Wrap).

Well, being the photographer (amateur with phone) that I am, I took photos of everything.

Once we got home, I read the photo of the big "This may get you some time in jail" sign. And, I became concerned. I mean, if one has to go to jail because of recycling - how would that look?

We were not supposed to leave Styrofoam in any bin (and we did), and we were supposed to break our cardboard boxes down (and we didn't), we weren't supposed to put Bubble Wrap in any bin (and we did). Now, please tell me - why can't Bubble Wrap be recycled??

And one other thing that might get us a cover over our heads and three squares a day......or a fine $$$.....did we check every piece of plastic to see if there was a Recycling Symbol on it? Sorry, I'm just not going to share that. This is quite enough!

It was God that Created GPS

I don't do maps. I'm not sure if all of you know this, but I'm the reason God created GPS!!!

All those years, when I was a Software Consultant......traveled everywhere.....flew (Million Miler on Delta, I am) then rented a car and drove.....I am going to tell you a secret. I stayed lost, most of the time!!  That's a fact. It's a good thing Service Stations don't keep track of people who stop to ask directions.

And, then, I'm really bad about "second guessing."  Yes, I know he said turn left at the next stop light....but turning right seemed to make more sense to me. 

So, we (Mike and I) are on the way to Forest City, Iowa to the Winnebago Factory to take the RV for some repair work. I make a great RV rider......seat pulled up, feet on the dash, covered with a light blanket....enjoying life while he drives. 

He (Mike) has put the address of the Winnebago Factory in his phone, so all is good. Right!!

Suddenly, he says, "Get the map." What? We have a map? How did I let that happen???

My blood runs cold. I've never discussed my lack of "map reading skills" with him. I never told him .....on our very first "vacation" with my honey (years ago, when daughter Gale was two years old)....we missed Columbus, GA.....completely......because I was reading the map!!

Mike wants to know if the way GPS is sending us is the "best" way. Should we be on Hwy this or Hwy that? 

I'm just trying to find out where WE are (on said map.) I suggest ....since "Margaret" (the name I gave to the GPS voice) has us turn at a most "opportune" time that HE look at the map. 

Thank goodness, Margaret and the map agree. I can rest easy.

Then, can you believe it. We are going up Interstate 35, and I let us miss the exit we need to take!! (It's easier to take the blame that to acknowledge that one really has no Map Reading Skills!!)

We get to the last exit in Iowa (before crossing State Line into MN) and turn around and go back to the exit I MISSED.

I can tell you one thing.... now, I can get to Forest City, Iowa from Readlyn, Iowa without GPS or a Map!!

A Truck Stop "Grill"

I saw something, yesterday morning, I had never seen.

It was about 11:00 a.m. and we were at a Truck Stop. Mike was filling the RV with Diesel, as I sat there.....perusing (I just love that word) my surroundings.

Suddenly a huge tanker truck backs to the back of the lot (in front of us, but several yards away.) He parked beside this big yellow thing that (honestly) looked like a Grill. The driver got out and went over and opened said "Grill." Then he went to the passenger door, of the truck (I thought).

Running through my mind was....."how wonderful that this Truck Stop provides truckers with a Grill. They can cook some healthy food, and rest while they wait."

Mike finished filling the tank......(and mortgaging the house to do it - have you seen the price of diesel?)......and gets back in the RV.

I say to him, "Mike, look at that..........I think that's a Grill and he's going to fix himself some lunch."

He (Mike) looks at me like I've gone nuts and says......."I don't think so."

Mike's going to have to make a big circle anyway to make sure the towed car clears everything......so I beg him to drive close to the other rig. 

I get out of the RV and go over to the Truck Driver. I don't have eyes, in the back of my head, but I'm sure Mike was shaking his!!

I get over to the "Grill" and I see there's a huge hose attached to said Grill with the other end attached to the Tanker. And there are several other "openings" (on the “Grill”) where hoses can be attached.

The very nice driver turns around......sees me, and I ask as I point to the "Grill"...."what is that?"

He says....."I'm filling my tanker with fuel to take to stations."

Not wanting him to think I was a nosey woman I explained, "I'm a writer, and I thought this was a Grill, and you might be fixing yourself a steak."

He laughed and said, "I don't think I'd better light this!"

Come to think of it, a real honest-to-goodness Grill would probably be a great idea. Just think how healthy all those truckers could be! 

Leaving the Water Alone!!

Traveling provides me (and you) with many stories. You all (I'm working on not saying y'all so much, since I'm headed north) know, to me, "Life is a Story."  Well, I am traveling and yesterday wasn't much of a story.....I saw nothing exciting.....nothing momentous happened.

Well, that's not really true it just wasn't much to write about (but I'm gonna' tell you about it, anyway.) 

I'm a part of this "rig" (RV, that is) because I bragged that I "can do everything about setting up an RV except leveling the jacks and driving it" (and those two things are pretty much the most important!!)

Anyway, I'm good at directions (not when we're driving....when we get there and are getting into our spot) ....."move over this way" ..............

......"move more that way"....."you're gonna' hit that post"......."aw, you just took the bark off that tree!"  (Not really....he's a good driver!!) 

I know where everything is located.....I can hook up the water, hook up the electricity (I know what's 30 amp and what's 50 amp). I can put the slides out. You get the picture....I know what I'm doing. That's how I passed the "interview" to get the job!!

I have decided....I am no longer touching the water! Everytime I do, it leaks and last night was no exception. Thank goodness, Mike saw it when he was hooking up the 50 amp (is he trying to take my job??) or we would have been like that song, "I've got lakefront property".....or something like that!!

We had stopped, for the night, in a little "off the beaten path" RV Park  (those are really the best kind) outside Sikeston, MO. That's where Lambert's Cafe with their "throwed rolls" is located. No, we didn't go. We were tired, and we have a kitchen in this moving household!!  

Speaking of throwed rolls....have you ever been there? Did you catch the roll? There was a reason I didn't make the basketball team back at good ole LHS!! Yes, it's a great advertisement, but please PASS the rolls!!

Anyway, we went to bed LATE because we got there late....but it was still daylight and it was WAY past Cocktail Hour. Do you think that stopped us? Are you kidding? 

At about1:30 a.m. (yes, middle of the night) Mike jumps up.....like he was shot from a cannon. "I forgot to get the keys out of the Jeep!"  So, up and out, he goes. Can you say wide awake, now? 

However, as tired as we both were, we might not have heard a would be robber unhooking said Jeep and driving off. Mike wouldn't really mind losing the Jeep....it would be the loss of the bicycle that would make him cry!!

This morning was absolutely the best morning. Sitting at the table (yes, that piece of furniture gets lots of use), we raised the blinds, and there...parked a couple of spaces down was a Mercedes Class C (that's a "cab over" camper). We took our coffee cups and went over for a visit. What a wonderful young couple were Kathy and Larry Gore. They live in Indiana, but Larry's parents live in Houston, MS!!! Traveling with them was Kathy's 87 year old father. They were on their way to Kerrville, TX to his sister's 90th birthday!! 

I asked Larry if he was related to Sue Gore - who went to school with me, years ago, at SJC. (He didn't know her....and I told him she's somehow related to me!) Often, the best part of traveling is the people one meets, and today was no exception. 

Mike was excited because Larry and Kathy both ride bikes, and Larry knew all about the Tanglefoot Trail that runs from New Albany, MS to Houston, MS. He wants to ride RAGBRAI with Mike. 

Personally, I was thankful neither of them looked at me and said, "do you ride?" (Mike just gets too much joy out of telling my "she fell while she was standing still" story!)

I can't end this without mentioning "Miss Lilly"....an 8 year old Pom who was being walked by her mom. She could have been my sweet Bella's twin. Same black coloring with tan "boots", same sweet face ......but Miss Lilly isn't a "yapper" like Bella and Precious. This mama loves them and misses them, anyway!!

Miss Lilly's mama sold her house, lives in a camper.....has Miss Lilly, three cats (one belongs to Miss Lilly, she said!) and a Dove, which she raised from a baby. I wonder if I can apply for some sort of "Listener Certification" and start charging for all this stuff I hear!

I really am glad that I got this "job".......I am a "working RV Companion," but I'm leaving the water alone!!
#RVCamping #TownandCountryRVPark #runontheroad

The Middle of the Pack

I'm just sure it was my friend Sammy Ford 's fault (he was the one that told me to "watch the right foot" when I started my trek back to Mississippi from Texas. Going across Texas, the speed limit is 75.....and that means I can drive 80 (five miles above the limit). No, that means I SHOULD drive 80. Anyway, I DO set Cruise Control (for what it's worth.....I then proceed to pay no attention to it....my right foot has a mind of its own and before I know it I'm going.....well, no sense in making everyone worry about me and my heavy foot!) I have a friend who says he's "keeping up with the traffic" and that's EXACTLY what I was doing. Texas was okay....but I crossed the state line into Louisiana, and suddenly there's LHP cars everywhere. Those white cars with Louisiana Highway Patrol written on their door had cars stopped on both sides of the Interstate all the way across that state. (I figured they needed money and this was how they were getting it.) Figured that out when I stopped for one of those "necessary breaks," and in the Rest Areas half the bathrooms were closed. I am in the "middle of the pack" .....and I am just doing my part in "keeping up with traffic." Who wants to cause a wreck because they're trying to abide by the speed limit??? Topped the hill, and there he sat .....in the median. Bless his heart, when it was safe for him to give chase....he DID. (At this point, I was watching him in my rear view mirror.....and thinking....."surely he won't pick my white car out of the middle of all this traffic. Will he?") He is 3 cars behind me....blue lights flashing....and traffic is still flying....about 15 miles above the speed limit. (Where's that 5 miles I should have been going? And, if I am the one that gets stopped this ticket is going to be pretty pricey!) By now, I am beginning to formulate excuses in my head for why I'm driving so fast. (1) I didn't think he'd care, not one bit, that I was rushing home to Mississippi because we had tickets to "Evita." However, I might start singing "Don't Cry for me Argentina" and he'd certainly send me on my way (no, you DON'T want to hear me sing!) (2) Then I decided I could use the look toward the sky and say "Thank you, God".....and hopefully, he'll say...."What? Why?" and I'd say "they were scaring me to death....I was having to drive that fast....right in the middle of them. I HATE driving like that....it doesn't feel safe." And he'd say...."well, you be careful ma'am and slow down!" And away I'd go. (3) However, what I really wanted to say was....."I am SO glad you stopped me".....and he'd look amazed and say....."Excuse me....what?".....and I would say...."Louisiana is the only southern state for which I didn't have a ticket....and I collect them!" I decided my sense of humor might send me to jail....so I'd have to shelve that one. Whew!! Suddenly, I realized he had chosen his prey....and it wasn't me. The moral to this story probably should be.....slow down, abide the speed limit, use cruise control, don't let your foot slide over onto the accelerator.......yada, yada, yada. However, I am still going with "if you're gonna' drive fast....get in the middle of the pack, for goodness sake!!" (Yes, I have BEEN at the back of the line in my history of being "Sarah Andretti.")

Emancipation Day Affects Tax Filing Day

Tax day, in the U. S., is always April 15th......except this year when it will be Tuesday, April 17th.  Wait a minute!  When April 15th falls on a Sunday, tax day is always the next day.....except this year. Wonder why?

According to Google information - we have a "two day relief" this year. Because Washington, D. C. celebrates "Emancipation Day" on Monday, April 16th!

"What is Emancipation Day?"  you ask.

"On that day in 1862, President Abraham Lincoln signed the District of Columbia Compensated Emancipation Act(an act of Compensated emancipation) for the release of certain persons held to service or labor in the District of Columbia.^[26] The Act freed about 3,100 slaves in the District of Columbia nine months before President Lincoln issued his broader Emancipation Proclamation. The District of Columbia Compensated Emancipation Act represents the only example of compensation by the federal government to former owners of emancipated slaves.^[27]" 

So, the Federal Goverment compensated Slave Owners who had slaves who had been freed? And the District of Columbia still observes this as a holiday??

"On April 16, 1862, President Lincoln signed the "District of Columbia  Compensated Emancipation Act."  This law prohibited slavery in the District, forcing its 900-odd slaveholders to free their slaves, with the government paying owners an average of about $300 for each. In 1863 state legislation towards compensated emancipation in Maryland failed to pass, as did an attempt to include it in a newly written Missouri constitution.^{[1][4][5][6]"}

"On January 4, 2005, Mayor Anthony A. Williams signed legislation making Emancipation Day an official public holiday in the District.^[28] Although Emancipation Day occurs on April 16, by law when April 16 falls during a weekend, Emancipation Day is observed on the nearest weekday.^[29] This affects the Internal Revenue Service's due date for tax returns, which traditionally must be submitted by April 15. As the federal government observes the holiday, it causes the federal and all state tax deadlines to be moved to the 18th if Emancipation Day falls on the weekend and to the 17th if Emancipation Day falls on a Monday.^[30]" 

"Each year, activities will be held during the public holiday including the traditional Emancipation Day parade celebrating the freedom of enslaved persons in the District of Columbia. The Emancipation Day celebration was held yearly from 1866 to 1901."

"In Columbus, Mississippi, Emancipation Day is celebrated on May 8, known locally as "Eighth o' May". As in other southern states, the local celebration commemorates the date in 1865 when African Americans in eastern Mississippi learned of their freedom. 

Though federal law outlawed slavery in the state, Mississippi itself did not ratify the federal constitutional amendment abolishing slavery until February 7, 2013.^[31]""

"In Texas, Emancipation Day is celebrated on June 19. It commemorates the announcement in Texas of the abolition of slavery made on that day in 1865. It is commonly known as Juneteenth. Since the late 20th century, this date has gained recognition beyond Texas, and has been proposed for a national Emancipation Day."

And, this, my friends is why you have an extra day.....this year.....to file your taxes.

(Note: Quoted passages have been copied from Google searches.)

#April15 #WashingtonDCEmancipationDayObservation

#slavery #emancipationdayaffectsfederaltaxday

Got Coffee Creamer but Fake Eggs

You've heard that old saying....maybe you've even said it, a time or two......."the squeaky wheel gets oiled."

Yesterday morning, Mike and I arrived at the doctor's office 30 minutes before 9 a.m. (for a 9 a.m. appointment), with plans to go to iHOP (yes that, "we have no cream, for your coffee") for Breakfast, afterwards.

First of all, the doctor's office was "cold enough to hang meat" (I've got lots of these little sayings stored away in that raggedy old book, in my head). We decided that we were so cold.......we'd be exchanging our initial reason for the visit to being treated for pneumonia!

I finally decided on an idea. I went to the "sign in desk" and suggested a "fund-raising effort......by renting blankets to those of us waiting." (The thermostat got turned up.)

Anyway, we sat so long....people began introducing themselves to each other! Mr. Green was the nicest little man who had overslept that morning......until 5 a.m.

But I digress (I just love that word, and it fits most of my conversations, so well!) We were there so long, the Breakfast we had planned to have at the "we don't have creamer" restaurant turned into "we should just order lunch" (but, we didn't.)

We sat down, and our server came and we ordered coffee. She questioned, "would you like cream?" then she looked at me, and said, "of course you would!" (with a smile). Maybe we've been there too much......naw, we just made an impression!

About 10 minutes into our meal, the General Manager came out (apparently, it had "made it to the back" that "the complainer is out there"). This time, her uniform was clean, and her hair was brushed. She was very nice and congenial, and she asked, "How is everything?" I replied, "Everything is great, you have cream!" She said, with a smile, "I keep it, just for you."

Yep, the squeaky wheel gets oiled!

(Another hint for you......DO NOT order scrambled eggs at iHOP. Fried eggs are REAL......the scrambled eggs are fake. Yes, I did....and no, I won't the next time!)

Maybe I'll get that place shaped up, after a few more visits......or they'll invite me to "don't come back!"

#LaureliHOP #nocreamerformycoffee? #squeakywheelgetsoiled #fakescrambledeggs #waitinginadoctorsoffice

From The Cross to The Coffin

Our Pastor, Tim Beard, has been in the "church business" for almost 50 years. He was educated at Emory University, and in Jerusalem. He's well read, well spoken, well loved, and he's funny. He relates to people, he's a Bible Scholar and a Master Storyteller.

Everyday he sends out a Morning Prayer, via text message, to his "church flock" as well as to many others. If he's late - we wonder what's going on? Is he sick? Is something wrong with Marge, his sweet wife? 

On Saturday, there had been a second text message. 

"Tomorrow: The Coffin"

We got to church, and the Church Bulletin didn't list "The Coffin" as the sermon.

After the Choir's special of "The Way of the Cross Leads Home" Bro. Beard began talking about "The Cross." My thoughts were, at the last minute, he'd probably changed his mind. I was a little disappointed. Over the years, I had heard the sermons about The Cross - I wanted to hear about The Coffin.

I settled down and listened as he crafted a story with a perfect ending. He took us on a journey from The Cross at Calvary, through verses in the Bible, down through the years. I usually leave church with the feeling that he'd been talking to me. This day was no different. Had I looked at others and been "glad" that I wasn't them? Had I felt pity for myself? Had I asked, "what can I do?" 

Burl Cain was the Warden at Angola Prison in Louisiana for 21 years. He was credited with changing the violent and deadly prison culture with "moral rehabilitation." In the nation's largest maximum security prison, which covers an area larger than the island of Manhattan, he brought God.

He had several interdenominational chapels built in the "little city," and in 1997 he asked Tex Reardon (who was associated with Billy Graham Ministries) if he could get Billy Graham to come to Angola.

Because Rev. Graham was in poor health, his son Franklin went. Two more chapels were built - one with a Steeple and a Cross high enough that it could be seen by the prisoners on Death Row.

And The Coffin?

Prisoners, who died in Angola, were buried in cardboard boxes. Cain viewed a prisoner falling into the empty grave, because the bottom had fallen out. He vowed that would never happen, again. There were craftsmen among the prisoners, and Cain decided to have Coffins built for the prisoners out of  treated Plywood.

Franklin Graham, while visiting Angola, witnessed the beautiful coffins and ordered 6, for his family. Billy Graham was laid to rest in one of these Coffins. A Cross was carved into the top, and the names of the three men who had built it were engraved in The Coffin. 

From The Cross at Calvary to the Cross on The Coffin at Angola, now resting in Montreat, NC.

Those questions Bro. Beard asked, on Sunday......I'm working on them!  

#thecross #thecoffin #Angola 

Look what happened, today!!

Click to download to your Kindle:

Finally, those hours spent, on the Porch have paid off! 

'Tales from the Porch' went to the Publisher and is on Amazon - ready to be downloaded to your Kindle or to the free Kindle app on your desktop.

The paperback version (if you're one of those people that prefers to "hold a book in your hands," will be released, soon!

'Tales from the Porch' is a book of short stories, told from the porch, that will keep you turning the pages to find out about the Panther that roams Cohay Creek and even found its way into the author's backyard, the old slave graveyard behind the house, cemetery trips to ferret out a ghost, and the trials and tribulations of putting on a pair of Spanx. 

The author tells how she learned about her maternal grandmother's murder from an elderly schoolteacher and recounts tales of growing up in the Mississippi delta, where she met and married her husband. 

And, you may find your name.......somewhere in this collection of stories.

It's primarily about Mississippi and its people.
#Taylorsville #Cemeteries #Ghosts #MississippiDelta 

Just Like a Man!!

A cousin, distant though she is, has been after me for quite some time to write another book. 

And so, I finally got started.

I wrote and I wrote and I wrote ......with the intention of using kdpAmazon (publish on Kindle, first) then turn it into a print book.

I was familiar with MS Word ....I knew everything I should do.....or so I thought.

The things I didn't know, I researched and found out how to do it, how to fix it, how to redo it!

I even created my own cover and copyright page and Acknowledgments and Table of Contents. I fought with the adding a page number to the first story.........but not to the Acknowledgments. Thought I'd never get that figured out and fixed. And then I added a blank page, and well, that just about screwed up the whole darned thing!

And, oh my goodness, trying to get the page numbers to align ....perfectly....to the right. That was something else.

Came the time to upload said manuscript to kdpAmazon and to review my "work of art." First thing I noticed was ....."you have seven errors."  What!  How in the world? This thing was just about perfect (that's why beauty is in the "eye of the beholder.")

I went to the "Preview your work"....and first thing I noticed was that those perfectly aligned page numbers weren't in any line at all!  They were all over the place. 

And then, I started checking out my seven errors. Mercy! 

About that time, I found a phone number and made a call to a very nice young man at CreateSpace (they're a book publishing company that let's one publish their own books).

He suggested I sign up for a CreateSpace account (which I already had) and read the instructions.

Let me just say.......I now know how a man feels when they've put something together the wrong way.....and have to start over!

"Tales from the Porch" is back on the drawing board....and it's being reworked. I think this might be what daddy used to mean when he'd say.....
"I think you better lick that cow over again!"

An Author and her books......is a real delight....

in Delight, Arkansas, that is!!

On September 30, my friend Mary Cooke (who writes as Mary Lou Cheatham) will be at the Delight Music Festival Super Signing with many other authors.

Delight, the hometown of Music Legend Glen Campbell (who passed away recently) is a small town in southwest Arkansas (population less that 300) near Murfreesboro and the Crater of Diamonds State Park.....where you can go dig for diamonds!!

This is the third annual Super Signing at the Delight Music Fest and it is being sponsored by the Delight Branch Library. Writers from Arkansas, Louisiana and Texas will be at the signing, with their books. 

Mary Lou will have 'Secret Promise,' 'The Dream Bucket,' 'Manuela Blayne,'  'Miss Loretta Larson,' as well as 'Travelers in Painted Wagons on Cohay Creek,' the novel that she invited me to coauthor with her. Mary Lou's books are based on the area in which I now live and where she grew up in and around a town called Taylorsburg.

If you happen to be in Arkansas this weekend - I'm sure Mary Lou would love to see a friendly, familiar face. What a delightful way to spend a weekend - in Delight, AR!

Mary Lou's writings can also be found on either of her blogs: https://maryloucheathamauthor.blogspot.com/ or https://collardpatch.blogspot.com/

When You Think You've Seen Everything.....

We are at a lovely RV Park in Arlington, TX.....one with lots of shade trees.

And, just like in Emporia, we were sitting at the table this morning, and thank goodness I was facing the right direction. Of course, either direction provided a view....but my view turned out to be the most interesting.

There is a small travel trailer parked next to us with a young couple who had been in and out the trailer door at least a dozen times (and so had their dog.)

They busy themselves around the outside of the trailer - back and forth to their pickup. I look up, occasionally, and see them. Then.....

Suddenly the young man goes to the back of the trailer, and opens a small window. (I'm assuming it's the bedroom.) He puts a bucket under the window, but he DOES NOT turn it upside down. At this point, I'm really paying attention!

He tries to step on the top of the bucket (yes, the opening) and his foot slips in. Not to be deterred, he does it again and successfully stands on the rim of the top of the bucket....without turning the bucket over and without his foot slipping in, again. (That, to me, is a major feat.)  He opens the small window and he, with a modicum of effort, climbs in the small window.

The young woman stands outside... by the door to the trailer and keeps yelling, "open the door, open the door."  (Our window isn't open but she's talking loudly enough I can hear.)

He looks out the window and says something back to her. She picks up a dog food bowl that is sitting outside, near the front door, and takes it back to the window and he reaches out and gets the bowl.

She then asks....."Are you coming back out?" I don't know what he said, but he did come back out.

The same way he went in!

Yep, he did.....he climbed back out the window.....just like it was the right thing to do.

Just when you think you've seen everything..............(and they got in their pickup and drove away.)

There's Always A Story.......

Okay, we are in an RV Park in Emporia, KS .....at the last exit before we have to get on the Turnpike. It's the same park where we stopped, in the Spring, It's where we saw "The Bounty Hunter" (no, not the REAL Bounty Hunter.)
We're sitting, with laptops on the table, looking out the window at the comings and going (there's not much). A SUV enters the campground - not pulling a camper - and drives around several times. Perhaps they are searching for someone.
Finally, it (SUV) backs into a spot across and down from us, and a woman gets out. Soon after she backs in several work trucks pull in and begin to park at campers already in spots.
Maybe she's with one of them.She gets a pink baby stroller out of the car but we're unable to see her put the baby in the stroller. Off she goes, taking the stroller and the baby, for a walk.......but she doesn't stop at any of the campers. Okay, now this has become a mystery. Why.....is a woman with a baby.....and no camper....backed into a spot in an RV campground.
It's probably time for us to do our nightly exercise. What? You didn't know we took nightly walks. Sometimes, they are just necessary. No, I'm not nosey. I'm a writer! This just may be a story. And, of course, we walk in the direction where we'll just HAVE to meet her!
Here she comes. "May we see your baby?" we ask. It's not a baby! It's a two-year-old cat in the pink baby stroller.
She has driven, cross country, from Georgia to California......to "sew with a friend" and she's on her way back home. She sleeps, in her car or in a pup tent, and her cat travels with her. She oftens sleeps.....in Roadside Parks. Hmmm, not me.
And then, we heard the story about the trip she took to Pennsylvania and the accident and how the cat got lost. Okay, it was now time to have a reason to go back into our RV!
I think we need to make regular trips to this RV Park.......there's always a story......

A Meal Without Meat.......

We southerners don't care for "sweet cornbread" .....that's a northern thing. The only exception to that, as far as I was concerned, was when I was still consulting. I had a client in the Twin Cities in Minnesota, and we would often go out to eat at a local restaurant. A favorite appetizer was Cornbread served in a small black skillet with a sweet honey topping and it was oh, so good!!

I awoke one morning hungry for a southern meal of veggies and cornbread. And even though I once had a boss who would say "a meal without meat is a meal incomplete"......I don't have to have meat, and I often don't.

Early one morning, while fixing my breakfast, I put a pot of Purple Hull Peas on to cook......and the aroma of those peas permeated the house and brought back memories of my Granny's kitchen and the wonderful meals that filled the dinner table and our bellies.

I knew that just peas and cornbread wouldn't be enough to satisfy this hunger, so I began to think about cooking a small pot of butterbeans and making a Corn Casserole 

An online Facebook group to which I belong had recently posted a recipe that included a box of Jiffy Cornbread Mix, two cans of Cream Style Corn, one egg and a stick of melted butter. I mixed and baked as directed and it was absolutely delicious!

My peas, butterbeans, corn casserole and cornbread and a glass of sweet ice tea.....made my day complete!!  (A perfect southern meal.)

A Man Worth Remembering.....

Celebrating Dick Peterson and others like him on this Memorial Day.....

He fought in WWII and he'll be 100 on August 10th..........Dick Peterson is definitely a man worth remembering. After interviewing him earlier this year, I wrote the following article for my "From the Front Porch" column, in our Taylorsville Post.

He was born in Broadland, SD in August, 1917 and just 4 months later his mother died during the Spanish Flu Epidemic. His father made the decision for his Aunt Clara (his father’s youngest sister) to take him and his two older sisters. The aunt, who later learned she was expecting a baby, decided it would be in the best interest of everyone if she kept his sisters, and he went to live with her sister, Mathilda. On April Fool’s Day in 1919 – when he was almost 8 months old, he went to live with Aunt Tillie and Uncle John who had two grown daughters.

He remembered that he always called her Aunt Tillie – never mom – even though she had taken him in when he was just a baby. Aunt Tillie wasn’t warm and loving, but she and Uncle John provided a good life.

His father remarried and had another family and he saw him only a few times during his growing up years.

Richard “Dick” Peterson will be 100 years old on August 10, 2017. His wife, Phyllis, with whom he’d been married 72 years passed away in December 2013. She had been his high school sweetheart……a Freshman when he’d been a Senior. He graduated and went to Iowa State University but continued to date Phyllis. In his words, “she was the pick of the litter and so was I.”

Dick is busy. He lives alone in a townhouse in Johnston, Iowa where he still drives. He was President of the Men’s Garden Club for 10 years and his yard is immaculate and beautiful, and he’s the one who does the planting and maintenance! The Gazebo in the Garden Clubs of America park was built, in his honor, and has a plaque with his name.

Dick is a wiry little man with a wonderful sense of humor even though he has Macular Degeneration and receives injections in his eyes. His townhouse has a basement and he amazed me with his agility as he hurried down the carpeted stairs. (He arrived at the bottom and I had barely begun my descent.)

I had gone to visit with him and to see his WWII "Memorabilia Room" - but I received a tour of his home and saw so much more. In his finished basement was a very neat room with a work bench and tools. In another room under lights, with timers, were plants that he was "wintering" and awaiting the coming of Spring so he could plant them in his beds. My favorite room held a table with notebooks of Family Data and hundreds of pages, typed by one of his sons, of "Richard's Ramblings" and his poetry. The walls held family photos .....of him with Aunt Tillie's family, of his father and his family, and the only photo that he had of his mother.

Dick and Phyllis got married in August, 1940 and in August, 1941 he was “ordered” to active duty at Ft. Leonard Wood, MO. He had received his Commission at Iowa State as a 2^nd Lieutenant in the Corps of Engineers Reserve.

Just as we all remember “where we were” when historical events happened, in the world…..Dick remembers that he and Phyllis were in St. Louis, MO at the movies when Pearl Harbor was attacked.

Dick was at Normandy, and on Omaha Beach, and on Utah Beach. I want to know what valiant effort was recognized by the Bronze Medal he received. I want to know more about the WWII Memorabilia Room…..and I hope I’m here to help celebrate number 100….in August!!

Dick Peterson…..a man worth remembering!

Probed and Investigated

There are so many Telemarketers these days....I don't usually answer the phone if the number doesn't look familiar. However, having said that.....my son-in-law is in Alabama for a meeting and this was an Alabama number calling....so I did.

I KNEW it was a Telemarketer as soon as I said "Hello"...because there was a delay.

After a couple of "hellos" (I shoulda' hung up), he said..."May I speak to Sarah Gorrell"...and I said...."What is this about?"

He said...."This is a Probe and an Investigation."

"Well"....thought I....."this could be good. It might even be the makings for a story or even some good gossip...depending on who the Probe and Investigation is about."

And, if it 'twas about me...I certainly wanted to know why I was being Investigated...and no darned body is going to "Probe" me without my knowledge.

So, I says...."How can I help you?"

And, this foreign voice says...."we notice you won a prize and we noticed that you are just now claiming it"

Now, I know how people in Alabama sound (just like me). I know they've had immigrants flood their southern state...but I just doubted one was doing a "Probe and Investigation" on me and I doubted I'd won a prize....'cause I knew I wasn't trying to claim anything!

I hung up.  I'm so glad I finally learned how to block numbers on this Smart Phone!!!

Happy to report...I'm not being "probed."

"Under dressed"

I’m not sure how long her white hair was -  she had it piled (I assume) atop her head under the “spiffy” little beige beret type hat, that had a short little bill. On the back, she had placed a rather large white silk flower that was edged in pink. I’m assuming it was to help keep her hat and hair, in place.

She wore some fancy black “jeggings” (she really needed a longer top to cover her fanny), but the jeggings had pockets that were adorned with jewels. I think she wanted those pockets to show and she was tiny so it really didn’t seem to matter.

Sticking out from under the jeggings, on her feet, were sheer black panty hose which she had encased in beige high heeled shoes. On top, covering her black top, she wore a short beige sweater that was trimmed in fur. Was it real fur? I'm no expert!

Her cheeks were deeply rouged in pink blush and when I got closer I noticed that when she painted her lips (with the same pink color) she didn’t quite stay within her lip lines. Her eyes were covered with huge black-rimmed sunglasses that had an amber tint.

The “writer” in me knew this was a story, so I had to speak to her! I commented on how pretty she looked (I was really stretching it a bit), and I asked if she was on her way to a party. She replied….”No, I had a coffee party this morning.” I realized that either her husband hadn’t gone…..or he wasn’t as “clothes conscious” as she was. In fact, in my mind, they were sort of a “mis-match.” However, she did tell me they’d “been together” 45 years!

Later, as we sat there waiting for our clothes to finish (we had gone to a Laundromat) the young man who owned the place stopped and said….”Isn’t this a great place to people watch?” I responded with….”You mean like that couple?” (as I motioned toward the older couple). He replied…….”She always dresses like she’s in a pageant.”

It was the first time I’d had someone make me feel “underdressed” at a Laundromat!
#jeggings #laundromat #peoplewatching 

It was more than just a tree.......

By the old house – the house that we call “Granny’s House” – even though my parents also lived there after Granny passed away, stood an old Water Oak Tree.  Several years ago, on a very stormy and windy night lightning struck the old tree and several of the huge limbs fell across our driveway.

Joey Robinson, sweet neighbor that he was, came with his chain saw in the middle of the raging storm and cut the big limbs, and daughter Gale and I helped get the driveway cleared. Normally, the branches could have stayed until daylight but husband Bob had recently been diagnosed with cancer and we never knew if, or when, we’d be making a trip to the ER.

Later, Bob wanted to cut the rest of the tree down, but I begged (on behalf of the tree) to “let’s see if it will continue living.”  And continue living, it did!

We all know that everything is “in God’s time”….and I think God must have decided that the old Water Oak had lived long enough.

                                                                                                                                                             

During a recent storm, I’m not sure if lightning struck again or if the heavy winds took their toll, but most of the rest of the old tree fell. Once again, it was across the driveway. This time, there was no saving what was left. My son-in-law, Dan, cleared the driveway and cut down most of the remainder of the old tree.  

I’m sorry I wasn’t there to say goodbye, to a memory. Once, when the Southern Pine “Today” newspaper published instructions on how to measure a tree to find the age – granddaughter Olivia and I went through the steps. The old tree was at least 110 years old. I knew it HAD to be old – I’m over ¾ of a century and it had been standing there for as long as I could remember.

If the old tree could have talked, the stories I’m sure it would have told! Many children – grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces and nephews and friends had played under that old tree. We dug in the dirt with spoons and made pies in dishes (that Granny let us have). We used it as a hiding place while cousins searched for us. We sat under it in the heat of summer. 

Mistletoe grew in the top of the old tree and squirrels chased up and down the trunk .into the holes they had begun to call home. The acorns that fell from the limbs were tiny but plentiful and covered the ground, like fine carpet, that crunched under one’s feet.

It was more than just a tree – it was a part of my childhood and of my adult memories and when I sit, on my Front Porch, I’ll miss that old tree with its big roots. I’ll miss the sight of the mistletoe, in the winter. It was the only tree, in my yard, with that parasite.

I’ll remember, so many years ago, little cousins digging in the dirt under that old tree. I’ll remember that cousins shared secrets, under the old tree. I’ll remember that pictures were taken under the old tree. I’ll remember that the old tree with it’s branches and leaves shaded so many family members over the years. I’ll wonder how many stories it had stored in its limbs and branches.

It was more than just a tree.....and I'm sorry I never took a photograph of the tree that was a part of my family history.