ZZZZZZZ.....Sleep, glorious elusive sleep!



Make no mistake, I wanted very much to participate in the challenge again this year.  Especially, more so, since I chose to write from the point of view that I was talking to my children.  Sharing, saving and preserving memories, thoughts and feelings with them.  But I'm darn lucky if I get 61/2 hours sleep a night.  My job, the drive and errands keep me away from home a good ten hours a day.  That leaves very little time for blogging, relaxing, cooking, chilling with hubby or Bug and everything else in my world.  So, I am incredibly glad it is done.  I look so forward to have a little time to sit in a comfy chair instead of a computer desk chair. 

Yummy, Yummy Kitchen Time

This is a stretch.  Let's face it, the last of the alphabet is a bummer.  But I've a a blast in kitchens with loved ones over the years. 


Everything from me helping Sarah make sugar cookies and tea cakes and decorate them for Christmas, to me and my niece Paige stirring up chocolate chip cookies so we could eat half the dough while they baked and even when me, hubby and his cousin Bill simmered venison hash all evening while we shot pool.  Each of us going into the kitchen to check it, and each adding our on little twist to it each time.  Awesome results!


But of course some of the most precious was when my children were there under foot or "helping" me.  When Bubba was still a baby, I'd put him in a bean bag in the corner of the kitchen while I cooked.  If he woke I'd sing to him or make animal noises the whole while to keep him happy.  We made our own version of a Beach Boy classic "dishy, dishy...oh, baby, now me got to go" that we'd sing while we washed dishes together.  Him standing in a kitchen chair pulled up in front of the sink.  Later, Bug toddling around begging for a FROZEN french fry or pie of breaded okra!


With both of my children there was lots of grating nuts and cheese with my old circa 1950's Mouli Shredder.  Sifting flour and baking powders, cream eggs, butter and sugar.  All towards the goal of a yummy desert or a plate of fudge for us all to enjoy.  And all the fighting over bowls and spoons and beaters to lick whether it be custard, or meringue or what!  And the begging for a small cup (usually the 1/4 cup measure) to be filled with some ingredient left plain for them:  pecans, coconut, chocolate chips, cheese, etc.


I suppose if love makes a family, the kitchen makes a home.




X-ercise

Sure, I cheated a little to get that X for today.  Bug would have had me talk about all my ex's because she is almost 14 and very into all of that sort of thing right now.  But I'd prefer to save that for our "girl talk" sessions.

Back in March, I teamed up with Carolyn and posted an article of hers on fitness and it got me remembering all the things I've done with my children outside over the years.  The ways we had fun and got a little exercise together.

It started with puddle jumping with Bubba when he was a toddler, to make sure he wouldn't be a goodie-two-shoes who was afraid to get dirty.  (That lesson took too well.)  Then we often had swinging sessions at the house or at the park.  When I'd push him in the swing in our back yard, I'd sing "It's a Wonderful Day" by Elvis or our own special version of "Swingin'" by John Anderson.  Sometimes we'd throw a Frisbee around in the yard.  And then there was one summer where we got to go to the pool in Silsbee quite often and swim and dive together.  Swimming has always been my favorite sport, favorite activity.  Then we had to leave that behind because Bubba found they were practicing racist policies on who they admitted to the pool.

We also did a lot of yard work back then.  Mowing.  Raking leaves and stickerballs out from under the two huge Chinese Chestnut trees.  And even inside, we stayed busy because I was an avid housekeeper then.  (You'd never believe that now!)  If you do it right and do it often, that's a lot of work.   But doing it together, with the stereo playing or us singing it could be a lot of fun.

By the time Bug came along, we were in Caneyhead with more room and little country roads that opened up a few more possibilities.  The three of us would get a ball and play "monkey in the middle", where two would try to pass the ball back and forth and the third would be in the middle trying to grab it.  We've even gone out and just swung each other around and around until we fell down.  We still played Frisbee at times, all of us or just Bug and I.  And thanks to the basketball goal, we could now play horse or pig.  We rode bikes up and down our road together.  Made a few excursions down the hill.

Bubba being an older boy now, had us go out and hike in the woods.  The three of us even went into the Sanctuary off of 327 and hiked way out past the trail and set on a sandbar by the creek and had a picnic.  Bubba took us down to the gullies by the house once.  And then later he and Xena the Boston terrier ended up in the newspaper because they led some folks who had been exploring down in the baygall to the gullies.

Then for one year, maybe two, we had a large pool set up outside.  Bug and I spent a lot of time in that.  I taught her to swim there.  (I have been Red Cross certified in Intermediate Swimming, Basic Water Rescue, Canoeing and CPR.  A little factoid about your mama.)  We'd cool off and relax there most every evening, swim some laps and play some water games.  Moonlight swims to.  Watching the stars.  Good times.

Bug got a soccer ball.  Never has played it as a sport, but really enjoyed it at school and would have me get out and kick it back and forth with her with imaginary goals posted.

Then of course there have been the myriad of impromptu games of washers or horseshoes.  Sometimes just our little family, sometimes with loads of extended family and friends.  Bubba, I'm sure can remember all out basket ball games down at Granny's house at family gatherings and the times the whole gang played volleyball.

We've even had badminton set up from time to time in the yard to play together.  We've made a few excursions out to bowl or to play put-put golf together.  Done our share of swimming in the Neches River or Bush Lake in the earlier years.  A couple of summers ago, Bug had a blast swimming and fishing off of Uncle Jim's pier on Sam Rayburn.

And don't forget the horse riding that Bubba and even I participated in with Daddy.  Shame that he doesn't feel up to it anymore to share with Bug.  But she's done her fair share of walking, stalking and hunting deer, squirrel and rabbit with him in the woods, just as Bubba and I have done.

So, I suppose even though none of us have ever participated in organized team sports, we've always been a fairly active and outdoorsy family.   And I feel fairly certain it is a tradition that will continue. 

Willie

I'm just 3-5 years old.  We are living in Carthage, TX in a rent house next door to the woman who owns it, Willie Thompkins.  Daddy was running a pool hall there.  He had been hurt on the job and that's how he provided for us.  I'm guessing Willie was probably about ten years older than Mama, as she had a grown up daughter that I believe was older than Edna or Sarah.  I have some vivid memories of Willie, that place and her house.  So, in no particular order, I share some with you here.

Willie's yard.  She had a glider that set under an arch that had vines growing up it.  I thought that glider was one of the most magical and special places!  It was near the property line and I could sit in it even if I didn't actually visit Willie.

In the back yard she had a picnic table.  I remember us celebrating what was probably the 4th of July with her there.  I remember there were hamburgers and the best french fries ever!  Hand sliced and fried.  That's where the secret of soaking them in cold water before frying came from...and just getting the edges golden.  We had watermelon and Daddy played leap frog with me.  A truly golden day for a little girl like me.

Willie's house.  Her house holds several memorable things for me.  One is how in a little alcove area between her living room and her bedroom, there was a little stand/table just for her telephone.  I adored it.  Was fascinated by it.

Another fascination was her garage.  Willie didn't drive.  She took cabs.  Her garage was shelves and shelves and shelves all filled with issues of the Readers Digest.  In date order!  I thought it wonderful and wished I could explore them all.  But I couldn't read yet.

Then there was Willie the person.  She must of been a very special soul.  She couldn't eat sugar, but she kept Oreo cookies for me.  Anytime I came over I had Oreos and milk at her kitchen table.

Also, the first time Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer came on TV, they must of been promoting it extensively.  I say that because Willie had Mama bring me over to her house to watch it.  I really don't remember if her TV was just bigger than ours, or if it was color instead of black and white.  I do remember how scary that abominable snowman was!  And how sad those misfit toys were.  That's where the tradition began for me and I've watched it every single year since. 

And then there is the dress.  The little silky red and white gingham dress with all the red petticoat made into it.  Lace and beads adorning it.  Velvet ribbon around the waist.  Still in the cedar chest. Willie made me that dress.  And I have a very vivid memory of wearing that dress to a football game and Daddy telling me to stop standing up in the stands and peering between the cracks at the people below.  He said that TV cameras would show my hinnie to the whole world.  I don't think there were any cameras.  I think he just said that to make me sit down.

Daddy got all well, work picked up and we moved back to Silsbee.  But Mama and Willie wrote to one another through the years.  And as soon as I could write anything, I began to write her, too.  At first just a note scribbled into Mama's letter.  Later letters of my own.  Me and Willie corresponded through the years and across the generations.  This continued on up until around my graduation from High School.  Finally I received a letter from her daughter, Sue I think, who told me her mom had passed on.

Suffice it to say, this is one person I hope I can look up and reconnect with in Heaven.

Visions & Dreams

Before I relate to you the things I plan to relate,  I want to clarify my basic beliefs regarding ghosts, spirits, and things from beyond.  Because of what the Bible says in many different places, I believe that once a person dies, their soul goes on to it's final destination, never to return to the earthly realm.  So, I absolutely do not believe in ghosts the way modern paranormals or the superstitious would have you believe.  I do however believe there are spirits.  There are spirits of light, which are the Holy Spirit and the angels...and there are spirits of darkness, which are the demons that serve Satan.  That forces one to acknowledge that when they encounter something that seems other worldly it has to either be a visitation from God to give reassurance or direction or comfort to us when no other way seems adequate.  Or it is a demon sent to lead one into false hope, wrong desires, create confusion,...anything that ultimately leads to death and destruction.  That is why God constantly tells us in His Word to stay away from phsychics, fortunetellers and such.  God does not reveal his will that way and we are to trust him for our future without knowing the whole picture.  Also He knows any that claim to do that sort of thing either is a charlatan or is in league with the Devil, whether it be by design or deception.


With that clearly stated, let me get on with what I came today to share with you.   Your mother has had experiences.  Numerous times.  They have occurred totally unwilled or uninitiated by me.  The first time happened when I was about ten.  We were planning a trip to Uncle Hightower's to pick up half a steer his son Geary had raised and butchered.  The closer to time to go it got I "felt" extremely that I should not go, that it would be bad for me.  That I would hurt very badly.  I begged Mama to let me stay with Edna or Sarah.  She made me go.  She thought I was remembering the last tummy ache I had from me and Kim's run to the store loaded with snack money.  I knew it was more.  I knew I had never felt what I felt before.  But I didn't know how to express it.  We went.  I had fun.  I was laying on the backseat of our Falcon 500, playing with a puzzle. (No seat belts or seat belt laws then.)  We headed home and was stopped at what was the only red light in Kountze then, when a man who had worked the graveyard shift at some plant fell asleep while driving and ran the red light from the opposite direction, crossed three lanes of traffic and hit us head on.  Daddy suffered broken ribs and a cut on his leg.  Mother hit the windshield and got a U-shaped cut on her forehead and a brow full of glass.  I was thrown up into the back of the front seat and apparently my mouth was split open by the ashtray embedded in it.  Two teeth were knocked loose.  Later, after the hospital and we were back home, Mama told me she was sorry she hadn't listened to me.

Years later.  I'm a young woman in college.  Mama is about to marry Polk, Jr.  Sarah is driving her van loaded full of women to go see Conway Twitty at the Palace.  We are calling it Mama's bachlorette party.  There are me, Sarah, Alice, Mama, Mary Lou and others in the van.  All of a sudden I get the strongest sense of foreboding about Sarah.  Centered on Sarah.  And it feels so urgent!!  All the small talk in the van goes silent in my ears.  I look at Sarah, smiling, laughing, smoking a cigarette, sunglasses perched on top of her head as always.  And something within me says with authority "pray!"  So I begin to pray, something like this.  "Lord, not my precious sissy.  Not now, not like this. There are too many women in this van. Too many mothers. Too many lives changed forever.  Some would loose every woman dear to them.  Please Lord."  The feeling subsides.  We go on to have an awesome, memorable night together.  Before the summer was over, Mama and Polk got the call in the night saying Sarah had been bit by a copperhead and was at the Silsbee Hospital.  Home from college, they told me they were going and why.  I was totally unconcerned.  Mama said it would all be fine, Sarah was sitting up talking and laughing at the hospital.  I went back to sleep to be wakened later by Mama when they had come home.  Awakened to learn that Sarah was dead.


Also, near this time, I was home from college.  Polk was reflooring the house.  He and Mama were living in his little rent house.  As much as I was happy for Mama to have found love again...even though I genuinely liked Polk, I was disturbed that right away they wanted to make changes to the house Daddy had fixed for us.  I grieved inside.  Afraid they were going to erase every memory of Daddy.  One night I was lying on my room in that house thinking those thoughts and crying.  Not knowing what if anything I could do about it without seeming a hateful, spiteful person.  (I need to preface this with the fact that the old Frigidaire stove with the cafe doors had always set in that house and was still there.  And every single time my daddy had ever walked through the doorway from the dining room into the kitchen the pans in the bottom of that stove would rattle.  His were the only footsteps that did it.  No one else.)  So I was laying there miserable and lonely when I heard footfalls coming from the back door.  They sounded so familiar!  And then, as they passed that old stove and entered the dining room, there is was!!  That rattle!  And on they proceeded, right out the front door.  I felt warm and safe and loved and most of all totally reassured that Daddy would never be forgotten by anyone who knew him.  That no one could erase the memories.  With all my heart, I believe God allowed an angel to walk through that house that night, just like Daddy did because He knew how much I needed that reassurance and He knew I thought I could tell no one how I was feeling.

A few more years pass.  I meet and marry your daddy.  I tell him about these things of course.  And I ask him to promise me if I ever tell him "I KNOW it won't turn out well"  that he'll listen to me.  He does.  Just like someone who doesn't believe it will ever happen does. 

Now it's the night we are in the black jeep riding up near Junior's.  We had been all down in the baygall.  Pipelines, mud.  We were coming back up the hill and nothing would do him but to shine the clearing on the incline coming back up.  We made a circle and the headlights revealed nothing.  I start feeling very antsy.  Very nervous.  I beg him for us to just ease on home.  But no, he gets the bright idea to climb the hill back up to the compressor instead of traveling the road.  I'm trying to tell him "I know" it will end badly.  Every fiber of my being is screaming get out now.  When I can't stop him, I finally bale out on him and walk up the hill.  The engine roars.  He tries and slides back down and guns it and tries again.  I never know exactly what will happen.  So, now I watch in fear, wondering if the jeep will roll over backwards on him.  I silently pray.  Tears are streaming down my face.  Finally, through much effort and noise the jeep crests the hill and enters the small clearing by the compressor station.  He's like, "What was all of that about?"  And I'm like, don't you remember?  He keeps insisting I get back into the jeep.  I still don't feel it is safe.  He promises we'll just idle home.  I finally relent and climb back in, once again silently praying.  Praying that the feeling be wrong.  We go less than 20 yards down the road and the front end falls out from under the jeep.  On a small little road with no traffic.  No major harm.  No real foul.  Thank God!  Of course then we walk up to Junior's and you know what happened then.  LOL 

The next major time, it happened was when we had been married almost 13 years.  It was just before Christmas.   Only this time it came in a dream.  I was sound asleep.  A beautiful, young blonde woman came to me and started to talk to me like she was a friend.  Her words I don't remember, but she was talking about your daddy.  And she was saying how first she'd do this, and then I could do that, and then she began to laugh evilly and her voice started to sound more and more gradually like a hiss.  Suddenly I screamed, NO! and awoke.  I was so scared I literally shook.  I asked your daddy to hold me.  Just hold me.  I didn't understand what was coming, but I knew it was pure evil.  That Satan was about to sift me like wheat.  Three months rock on.  Our anniversary passes.  And one night on the side of the road a car I chased down stops.  I get out and there is the woman.  And then comes the hardest time of my life.  And also the grandest time of my life.  For I was totally grounded in God at that time with a vibrant prayer life.  I still am not sure if that dream was a warning from God so I'd recognize my adversary, or if it was a taunt by Satan because he was so cocky and sure he'd win. 

Years go by.  We are living in Caneyhead.  I am going to Wiley Mae church.  I have a habit of taking the church roll and praying for the members.  I have the roll divided into equal portions, one for each day of the week.  It wasn't the day to pray for her.  But her name kept jumping into my mind.   Okay, Lord, I'll pray for her.  And I did.   And tears began to fall as I prayed.  I get up and get started with my housework.  But over and over the persistent, urgent voice is saying "Call her."  I try to say not now.  I need to get some things done.  But over and over the voice fills my brain and I finally relent.  I whisper a prayer and dial the phone.  She answers.  I ask her how she is.  She says through great big sobs, "Today was so hard.  All I could think was how much easier to just end it all.  The illness.  The suffering.  Just end it now.  But I knew that was wrong.  So I prayed that God let someone from church call.  That I'd take that as a sign it was His will for me to go on.  And then you called."

Roll on down a few more years.  A very good friend of your daddy has come by the house hoping to visit with him.  He was recently gone through a divorce.  And it has been oh so very rough on him.  Daddy is inside sick and doped up with medicine.  So I go out and talk to him by his vehicle awhile.  I just feel as we converse that this person is thinking of going home and ending it all.  I beg him to come in and eat and stay on our couch.  I say all the usual platitudes about how time heals all wounds and such.  He finally shuts his door and leaves and I feel so certain to my core that I have not dissuaded him, and that he will attempt to end it all before the night is over.  So I came inside.  Got my Bible and entered the bedroom.  I prayed, with tears streaming, and asked God to help me open the Bible to the right place.  It opened in the Old Testament.  In a Psalm.  I don't remember which one.  But one where David is at his wits end and about to despair.  I began reading the verses and praying them out loud to God.  Not as my words.  Not as David's.  But changing them to be words offered on behalf of the man who left.  It took some time.  I felt so much.  It felt as if I was actually feeling what he felt.  When I was through I was spent, exhausted.  I turned off the light and said my own little prayer and went to sleep.  Nothing happened that night.  Nor anytime since.  Real threat and answered prayer?  No confirmation this side of Heaven, but I think so.

I have had many, many more urgings over the years, though none so demanding or intense.  I try hard to be faithful to them and respond.  But I am human and sometimes I am just tired or self absorbed.  I've also had what I consider lesser dreams, where I actually have a conversation with someone and months or years down the road I realize I am standing there having a conversation I have dreamed and it feels all so deja vu.

I share these things so that if you may have inherited any of them, or God gifts you with any of them you'll not feel odd or ashamed or scared.  As long as they do not deny the Written Word or Christ, my best advice would be to simply obey them.  And always respond with a covering of prayer.








Undo

Who doesn't have things they'd undo if they could?  For me with the two of you, I'd undo some of the things I said to you.  Some of the times I doubted you. Some of the times I took your word for something.  Some of the times I didn't stop what I was doing or had planned for your ideas.  I'd undo sometimes when I may should have stood up for you more.  But I can honestly say that overall I have no major regrets of how I raised either of you.  In the big scope of things I think my love and the values I tried to impart came through.  And for that I will ever be grateful to my Lord for getting my attention when Bubba was a just a toddler and turning me back to Him, rededicating my life and allowing Him to truly be Lord.

Now I See

"He answered and said, Whether he be a sinner or no, I know not: one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind,   now I see." - John 9:25 KJV

I was pondering the words "now I see" today.  Thinking what all things could prevent one from seeing.  I came up with only three:  blindness, absence of light, and obstacles.  With that introduction I give you the following.

now I see

Here the emphasis is on the word I, for there had been only blindness before and now I see.  Blind to the fact that I was a sinner.  Blind to the fact that God loved me anyway.  Blind to the saving grace through the sacrificial death of Jesus that he offers to every one of us.  But I saw my sin as God sees it.  I believed God's love and confessed my sin to him.  I accepted Christ's free gift of salvation.   Now I see because the Holy Spirit lives within me.

now I see

Emphasis on the word see.  There were dark corners in my world and in my mind that prevented me from seeing.  There were obstacles of anger, self will & indulgence, long standing attitudes of my own and others.  Slowly, through the Word of God and the Guidance of His Spirit, light began to illuminate the dark corners and I could see the things He wanted to clean up or remove from my life.  I could see the blessings and gifts He wanted to put in their stead.  The obstacles began to melt away and fade until I could see my way to forgiveness, see God's will for me, see the need of others and see my attitudes change even when others didn't change with me.  Now I see because the Holy Spirit has taught me.

Now I see

Emphasis on the word Now, because for the first time ever I really and truly see!!  See the deeper meaning in life.  See now what is truly precious.  See God's provision for me and others.  See God's will at work in my life and through my life.  Now I see ...and I'm never going back to the blindness and the darkness!  I know where to go to dissolve, remove, get over or around the obstacles!  Jesus sought me and bought me and now I see.

Now I see, won't you?