Sunday, March 25, 2012

Roses for Your Birthday

Another family birthday comes into view while we are still basking in the glow of last week's celebration for Maddie.  One hundred twenty-five years ago on March 15, 1887, a baby girl given the name Mary Clyde Curley was born to a 34 year old  French immigrant whose husband died during the pregnancy.  This baby was the youngest of 9 living children born to Ernestine, who had buried a child in addition to two husbands, both of whom died before seeing their last child. 

Clyde, as the baby was called, was born into adversity and affliction of circumstance.  But she was also born into a close family circle as her mother moved back home to relatives.  I don't know much about her childhood, but I do know she loved her siblings dearly and spoke of them often.  In 1904 she married Hezekiah Peyton Terrell and gave birth to 3 sons and a daughter.  Opal, her daughter, was my mother.  I became Clyde and Ky's first grandchild.

Clyde Terrell mourned the death of her oldest son, Vinnon, due to a hunting accident on Christmas Day in 1922.  She never drove a car, never lived in a house with indoor plumbing until she was nearly 80.  She raised her family on a farm in Smith County, Texas, drew water from a well, washed the family laundry in an iron wash pot set over a fire in the yard, and hung the clothes on a line outside to dry after which she ironed them with a flatiron kept hot on the wood stove.  She planted morning glories and old maids,  kept a garden for vegetables,  milked a cow, hung slaughtered meat in a smokehouse, and kept chickens for eggs as well as wringing their necks for Sunday dinner for the preacher.  She put up berries and peaches along with peas and green beans in mason jars with sealed lids and baked pies and tea cakes. She lived by "use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without!"  Therefore, she sewed her own clothing, replaced buttons, turned collars and cuffs on Papa's shirts, and made patchwork quilts with what was left.  She was an adept seamstress, adding embellishments of crochet, tatting, hemstitching, and cutwork to aprons,  pillowcases and tea towels.

I remember being folded into her soft, sweet embrace and never felt more loved.  I remember drinking cold well water from a dipper, picking berries with her, and stubbing my toe on the red dirt road when we walked to the mailbox.  I remember that she welcomed folks to her door and to her table, the same one that my own family gathered around for lunch after church today.  However, she always put a clean white tablecloth on top, and when anything was blooming, a jar of flowers on the table. Whether we were eating fried chicken or cornbread, biscuits or berry cobbler, the food was always delicious and warm and her welcome even moreso.

But most of all I remember her deep faith in and love of God.  She knew God loved her and trusted him unfalteringly. She was a woman of prayer.  She didn't just go to church, it was a part of her and she was a part of the people and their worship and service.  Her pastor and his wife were her best friends.  I loved going to church with her because she loved it so much.  She had tragedies.  She did not have what most would call an easy life.  But she lived in gratitude and praise for the blessings she had. 

Grandma died one month before her 90th birthday in 1977.  I still miss her. This morning just as dawn was arriving, I went out into our garden and picked these yellow roses in her honor.  She had an old  rose bush near the front window of their house at the top of the red dirt road. She often brought bouquets of the blooms in for her table.  They were golden yellow.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Happy Birthday Maddie

Yesterday, Maddie celebrated her sixth birthday at our house with her parents, sister, uncles, aunts, a cousin, and a new doll named McKenzie.  We made Dutch Babies for breakfast, went to pick strawberries, had a Texas barbecue picnic for lunch, and made Breakfast for Dinner.  I think her smile says we made her day. I know she made mine.  Six years ago I waited with her parents and uncle to see her for the first time.  I cried and laughed at the same time because she was so beautiful.  She is growing tall and wise and wonderful.  Happy Day, Birthday Girl!

Monday, March 12, 2012

Good Medicine

Our cat, Bella, has become Joe's shadow during these past 7 months.  She seems to sense that he is in pain and wherever he is, there she is too!  Now that he has gone back to work, I think she waits to reclaim her place when he gets home to the recliner.  Angel, our other cat is more aloof, has never been a lap cat. Still, she has her spot on the foot of his bed and is never very far away, either.  I believe animals know in some way when we are ill, and seem to be saying they are "with us".  After all, if they didn't keep us going, how would the food dish get filled?!


"A meow massages the heart."  ~  Stuart McMillan

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Glad to Be Here

Yesterday I returned some books to our newly opened library branch which is on the campus of the University of Houston at Sugar Land.  Since it is now the nearest public library to my home, I will be going there often.  It is a lovely, contemporary building with comfortable reading areas, access to the enitre county library catalog, as well as state of the art technology like self checkout.  I parked on the edge of the parking lot, which was adjacent to this field of wildflowers which stretches toward the horizon lined with bare trees which are on the banks of the Brazos River. 

I thought about how great it is to live where country road meets the freeway system.  Granted, I am not always exactly grateful for the freeway.  But it does give me access to this university,  art and theater,  good medical care, great places to buy healthy food, and more importantly my family, my church and my friends.  Most of the time I do have to drive at least a short distance on the freeway to go to those places.  But I am still on the edge of meadows and rivers.  I hear birdsong everyday. Most days I am just on the other side of a fence from cattle and horses.  I am a short drive away from picking strawberries this Spring, I have been seeing Red Buds on the roadside for weeks, and in my own garden I have "country" every day.  In our season of life, this is a good blend for me.  As I stood looking toward the river and photographed what many in our area call weeds, I am thankful for place. I am thankful for home.  I just wanted you to know.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Tea Time

This sweet green teapot was originally used to serve hot tea to diners at Cameron's cafeteria in Tyler, Texas where my mother and father both worked when they married in 1931.  These days it is more often used to hold a couple of cut roses from my garden, but I like it best sitting on my counter, reminding me of my parents, their willingness to work at building a marriage and life (I believe Daddy made $1.50 a week when they got married), and the fact that they kept the little teapot even though the enamel inside is chipped and rusted.  I like the grace of the handle and the spout and the way the lid tips back on a tiny hinge. My shiny red electric teakettle and our Flavia machine which can produce a cup of lemon or peppermint tea in no time with little fuss and bother are convenient and useful, but I doubt either will be around in over 80 years for someone to photograph and write about.  Somehow, I think this one will. 

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Puzzling



Joe has been working on this jigsaw puzzle during the time following a recent surgery. We like lighthouses, and this one is lovely. But the landscape in which it sits is a challenge and took hours to work on. We kept looking for pieces only to find the missing piece on the floor. One day as I entered the kitchen, I saw the reason.



Angel the cat liked the puzzle, too.  She patted a piece to the table's edge until it fell, then looked for another one to repeat her trick. Two weeks ago, Joe went back into the hospital for another surgery.  I was spending most of the time at the hospital with him.  On the third day we were away, I returned home late at night, turned on the lights and discovered the lighthouse puzzle in chaos, mostly on the floor.  I think Angel and her cohort, Bella, were trying to express their displeasure at being left alone all day without someone to top off the food dish.  Why do they need feathers on a stick when they have us?

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Completely Present


In dwelling, live close to the ground. In thinking, keep to the simple. In conflict, be fair and generous. In governing, don’t try to control. In work, do what you enjoy. In family life, be completely present. -Eleanor Roosevelt.

I found these words while reading a blog I enjoy  - http://www.throwbackroad.com/

I want to echo "in family life, be completely present."  In today's busy schedules, the actual waking hours families spend with each other can be reduced to few.  By the time work, school, sports, music and/or dance classes get their share of a calendar day, there may not be much left.  Meals grabbed to be eaten in the car on the way to another activity and family members each on their own cell phone or electronic device are common sights.

  Is it possible to make choices that claim actually being present in family life?   I think so.

 Preparing food together and then sitting down around a table at home is an important, and certainly a great boost for the budget.  If we turn off the television, give the same attention to each other that we seem to give to phone calls and texts, I believe family time can not only be something to look forward to, but a time we can learn to enjoy being together, completely present.

When our children and grandchildren gather here, we make an effort to have sit-down meals together.  Many times, this is around the old oak dining table which belonged to my grandmother.  I believe her smile joins ours as we have our table blessing and pass the potatoes, present to each other.