Taking Time Off

Vacations are important. They clear the brain, they give us a better understanding of different cultures, they let us put on our childishness and just have a good time. New food--New culture---New landscapes! All because we took a week or two to see all that.

When we were in New Mexico, we spent a lot of time in Durango Colorado and Cortez. But then we had the time when we went to the BIG trees. You know the BIG redwoods in Yosemite park.

We saw something about them on the TV and Jerry just didn't believe that trees could be that big. Fall freak was coming so I talked him into going to see those huge trees.

He toke a week off and went west. Things are really different after you leave the mountains. The Mojave was spectacular. The road going north was so green and yet the ground was dry. We passed Rena and went straight to the park. The only thing is that I had navigated us to the top of the park---and the trees were n the south of the park.

Ladies would you believe that he just laughed.

When we found the trees, he was dumbfounded.  He didn't really know what to say. He walked around one big tree and because his boot was 12 inches long he knew that the first tree was 60 feet around and the other was 75. 

We took off south and went through Bakersfield and all those towns. The ground is very sandy, that does not mean it's not beautiful. Just different. Started back to Farmington and took the southern route. Went thru the land of the crater and the petrified forest, saws the sighs to Scotty's Castle, but we went on and finally stopped and had a good supper and made are way home on the fifth day.

That was the longest vacation we ever made. Well he did put his food on five continents, 17 different countries and America. My bucket list includes a Amtrak ride all round the USA.

NanaNews

Things go kinda crazy sometimes. I thought that I would be able to find an agent real quick. It seems that everyone has gone to self publishing. I don't have time for that.

If any of you know of a good agent please let me know.

The things that I have been posting are all from the book I wrote after Jerry passed. We had some good times and then we had some funny ones.

This one was so funny......

     Having grown up in a family that tried all kinds of vegetables and cuisine; I liked broccoli and garlic, and cilantro and celery. I cooked chicken smothered with onions and garlic and cinnamon. I baked the big bass that he caught on a fishing trip and had stuffed it with onions and apples. I thought it was wonderful. He didn’t.

      He liked southern food. And I have learned, over the years, how to cook what he likes and in return he has learned how to enjoy food from different countries.

    The first skirmish happened over the Red beans he wanted. After going all around the store looking for red beans, I finally found them. In the section where they were there were white beans, lima beans (they are green), I found the split peas, and I found the RED beans. And I found the pinto beans that are brown. I took the RED beans home and read the package directions. It said to put them in water over night and then it read how to cook them the next day. The beans went into a pot and then into the fridge for probably 12 hours or a little longer. The next morning, I read the instructions again. Poured off the water and covered the beans with fresh water; brought it all to a boil and cooked for two hours, just as the instructions said.   For TWO hours. When Jerry got home. I filled his plate with RED beans and cornbread that kept breaking into chunks. YUMMMMMMM.

     Then he took a bite; he spit them out. Those beans went all over that kitchen. “That’s not RED beans” he said—loudly.

     Back to the grocery we went so he could show me the RED beans. Well, we found the RED beans. I know they were RED beans because the package said they were RED beans. RED kidney beans. The ONLY package that had RED written anywhere on the package. He looked through all those packages and finally found what he was looking for. “THIS is RED beans,” he said. I said,” The package says PINTO beans.” My family did not eat peas, beans, corn on the cob, nothing like that. My dad’s family used all that as fodder for the animals on their farms. I don’t know about my moms’ family and beans and corn. I do know she never cooked any beans at our house.  Well, she did cook green beans. Over the years and after all the different countries he was in Jerry learned how to eat and like lots of different vegetables. He even ate Brussels sprouts if they were fresh from the market.

     I tried the way I got kids to eat different things with Jerry. I’d cook the Brussels sprouts with no salt so they were less harsh and sweeter cooked that way. Then on would go some butter and salt. He ate a lot of veggies and never asked what they were.

     First lesson learned by both of us. Don’t assume that your spouse knows what you are talking about. Ask questions. LOTS of questions.

More Later

NanaNews

I've been watching talk shows and home programs and I am so happy to see that people are beginning to understand that the shuffling around the fact that all of us need to belong to a family and the best way for your kids to know that they are part of that family is to expect them to help at home--no money involved.

When I was seven and my mom got sick -- which I didn't know about -- U had chores. Not a lot but things that had to be done every day to make the family work like a clock.

Here's what I mean----

     Things were changing again. This time Phil was pressing his own shirts. Mom would be gone for a couple of days, as I’ve said. Then she’d be home. Sleeping a lot. Phil and I would fix dinner and wash the dishes. Then this old woman came to the house and would clean and get us kids ready for school. I remember that she thought that it was terrible that I couldn’t comb my hair and put it in braids. It was either learn how to braid my hair or go to school looking like a banshee. It took me a while, but I learned how to comb and braid my hair. No more banshee for me!! I was seven when we got the house keeper. She would go home after we got back from school. The evening meal was cooked for when dad got home. It was our after school job to wash the dishes—pots and pans included. Dad divided the chores. My job was to wash the plates and silverware and glasses. Dry them and put them away. Because most of the pots were cast iron those day, Phil’s job was to wash them and put them away.

     I couldn’t touch the faucets while standing on the ground, so I got a chair, put the back of the chair to the counter and washed dishes. I had to stand on the counter to put the plates and glasses in the cabinets. When we bought this house, my kids found me standing on the counter cleaning the cabinets and they had a fit. So, I had to promise that I would use a ladder from then on.

I felt needed and part of a family because I could help when I was needed. Kids just feel better when they can help and when someone cares enough to tell them to behave themselves and mean it!

NanaNews

One of the things I like about blogging is that I can write things that I want to. I can stretch the fun a little and still enjoy the day.

Today we are going back to LA when I was 6 maybe.....

     Another thing I learned during that time in Eagle Rock changed my life forever.

     A little way from our home a man kept turtles. Huge turtles, with big humps. A small child could ride on one of those beautiful beasts. One day I was watching the mom and the baby turtles. The male was off by himself. A guy, a grown-up guy, came out of the house with melons and tomatoes, celery and carrots. The turtles lifted their heads and slowly came over to the fruits and veggies. They opened their big mouths and began tearing the food into smaller parts. Eating as they tore the food apart. The guy came over and told me a lot about the turtles. Galapagos turtles, he told me. Even in those days they were becoming scarce. The male had gotten a cracked shell and he was taking care of that turtle so his shell would heal and the turtle didn’t get an infection. He asked me not to ride him as it was not completely healed. Never did ride that turtle, but I got to put out the food if I got there in time.

     One day there was two girls around my age watching those turtles. I saw them trying to ride the male one day. Now, that man had told me about the crack in that turtle’s shell. I didn’t know anything about them, but it did not feel right to just stand there and let them hurt Mr. Turtle. I got up the gumption to tell them that they were hurting that turtle and they laughed at me and went home.

     It still bothers me when I see anyone harming another person or animals. God just gave me a heart for taking care of people and animals who need help. I am so blessed that He did, as I knew what to do for Jerry. I would know when he needed to go the doctor and when to wait.

     Sometime later we, those girls and I, happened to walk home from school together. They asked me to come back and play with them the next day. They did some very strange things. but I kept on playing with them. I don’t know why, maybe I was just trying to figure out why they were so strange. I just wasn’t used to having girlfriends, maybe that was why--

Until…...

one day after school, mom sat me down and told me those girls were not nice and she didn’t want me to play with them anymore. She didn’t act mad, just very firm. I paid attention because my mom was never firm about anything unless she meant it.

     I started coming home a different way. Up the side of the mountain and through a few yards. I didn’t see them for a long time and then one day there they were in that tree across from the turtle’s yard. They called to me to come and climb the tree, so they could tell me some wonderful news. Why did I do that? I had no idea, but the I do know now. The first thing that came into my mind was, from that tree I could see our backyard and if mom came out, I could get down really quick. There was something or some reason for climbing that tree. Second reason, they were so changed. They were happy, happy, Happy. The bad words were gone and replaced with much better language. I had to find out what caused that because then mom might let me play with them.

     Also, their faces glowed with happiness and contentment. Completely changed. Beautiful twinkling eyes.

     We’ve found Jesus—they said.  

     Who is Jesus? —I asked,         

     They told me about Jesus being the Son of God. How He loves us. Both speaking at the same time.

     Their words flowing like water.

     Then I heard that I could have the wonderful life that Jesus has for all of us, and we could be sisters in JESUS.

     After seeing how happy they were now—so different than before, of course, I wanted that too.

     And it was right there in that tree I asked Jesus to take me into His family. To take me and make me His. I could feel the difference in me even at the age of six. I felt enthused, clean but most of all loved and not alone anymore.

More Tomorrow

9/11

Need I say more.

I remember that day just as most of us do. I remember where Jerry and I were when we learned about the horrendous attack on innocent people.
What do you remember?

We had been to Jerry's mom's house for a reunion with a preacher friend of ours that had come to visit with Louise and RT--and be thealso  preacher at the revival the church had once a year.

The revival was only four days, I can listen to Bill White for more days than that. He's on YouTube if you want to hear some good sermons.

Anyway, He was getting ready to go back to Florida. We were packed and ready to go. Bill got a phone call. The look on his face was --- I don't know how to explain it.  He wasn't scared, he wasn't overcome with grief, nor was he laughing. I guess you could say he was ready to get home--but in a hurry.

We left, as we had a four hour trip to Duncan. An little time with the kids and grand kids and then another 16 hours to Farmington.

When we got to Dallas on I20, every car and every truck were going no more than 40 miles and hour instead of the usual 80 to 90.

We both thought that there had been a wreck up the road. That did'n show up. I asked Jerry if he thought we had encountered the beginning of the tribulation and we didn't get taken to Heaven.

Then I turned on the radio to WBAP. And the second tower went down.

It took us more than four hours to get back to Oklahoma.

I had seen the carnage done to the Murrah building in Oklahoma City. I don't want to see that again.

This is AMERICA and we will stay that way

FUN IN THE SUN BACK IN 1948

The giant Ferris wheel on the pier at Santa Monica beach has been transported to Oklahoma City Okla. It looks so said out there in the pasture by the Oklahoma river, even though the river has become a major entertainment center in the capitol city.

I knew that ferris wheel when I was just a child. Loved the waves hitting my feet. I used to like to get out farther, until that day that Phil had to rescue me because the waves got too high and I couldn't come up for air.

Mom would take us to a day long swim or nap or sand castles and for lunch. Here's some of the thngs I  put into the book  that will explain what we did way back in 1948.

     Lots of things happened in those days. I learned to ride a bicycle. I remember the food. We found peanut butter in the deli area of the butcher shop. It looked good. The meat man brought it out of the cooler, so we could smell it. It smelled just like peanuts. Yummm, he gave us a slice to try. Was it DRY? That is not the half of it. First bite --- it took my breath away. Literally! Mom even had to blow into my mouth, so I could get some air. WAY too much for one bite.

     Speaking of food, we had wonderful Asian, awesome Mexican, mom’s homemade apricot jam, milk with lots of cream. Mom’s Chow Mein. And her pies! The ease with which she made pie crust. She made coconut crème, apple, strawberry, lemon, pumpkin and I don’t know how many more. All were good, and all were homemade. Mom let me watch her cook—up to a point. She would put me onto the counter and I would “help” by putting the used spoons and bowls into the sink. I got to wash them too. I couldn’t use the stove because it was too tall for me to even get close to. I watched, and I learned how to cook. Just so you know it’s extremely easy to make pie crust when you do it mom’s way.

     One night we were going to the Grauman Chinese theater to see a new movie. We had dinner at the Asian restaurant adjacent to the theater. I love Asian. Those awesome scents in the air—garlic, ginger, soy - I loved it all. I also like to try new things to eat and when dad got his soup I wanted some too. It smelled sooo good. A cute spoon and wonderful aroma. When I looked into the bowl there were three green peas. Dad told me it was “bird’s nest soup.” And, of course, you know it, I had to say loudly, “bird’s nest?” But I did finally eat it and it was the best soup I’ve ever had.

     To be truthful I have forgotten the exact year that all this happened. We were at war and having to recycle newspapers and glass—planes in the air and submarines in the water. Recycling cans, and bottles--each color had to be put it a separate container—cans that had to be clean and smashed and      the top put inside. Newspapers had to be tied up with string, and the other paper was tied up too. We had the blackout curtains and we had an earthquake that moved the piano from one end of the living room to the other. Mom at four feet eleven and me shorter than that moved that piano back into place. And that means that the sequence of these goings on are probably not in order—but everything happened as I am writing.

      Summer time meant food and ocean. Santa Monica Beach. I can hear the waves pounding into the sand, I can smell the water filled with salt and seaweed. I can see the very tall Ferris Wheel that protruded out into the ocean as you would start down from the very high top. The sun beating down on us as we took our naps. Phil probably didn’t take a nap being almost four years older than me.

    I remember the lunches mom brought for us. Celery, carrots, bread, fruit, water in a jar, and boiled eggs.

     Have you ever eaten a boiled egg while the wind was blowing sand into everything? Eggs included!!

     Boiled eggs are not bad. I have them a lot. In fact, I really like boiled eggs. I just don’t like my boiled eggs with sand. Not good---at all.

     When you’re five or six and you go to the beach for the day, it’s so soothing. Living in wartime is stressful—especially for kids. The wind was blowing so I put that first egg into my mouth—egg yolk and all—I couldn’t breathe. I finally got that yolk out and looked down to my plate and there it was. Another egg. I knew I couldn’t go through that clogged airwave again. So, I thought about it and decided to take care of those eggs for good. I buried those hummers in the sand. As far as I could get them to go, I pushed and pushed and finally I couldn’t see any yolk. I didn’t want to hurt mom’s feelings. I couldn’t NOT eat the egg. But the little children on the other side of the world who didn’t have enough to eat would really like those boiled eggs. To eat. Sand and all!!! I didn’t care because I had found a way to get rid of those lethal egg yolks. Without mom’s feelings getting hurt.

     I’ve often wondered what happened to those yokes.

     Another wondering was this. Did mom ever know that I buried those sandy things?

More about Jerry

When Jerry and I married he really didn't like to have dogs in the house. He was a farmer guy and the dogs were outside so they could  bark when things were going on outside that didn't need to be going on.

Like someone trying to get the cows, or get food out of the smoke house, or coyotes getting in the chicken house, or maybe even skunks.

I on the other hand liked dogs in the house. Dad got a chance to get a dog from the man who raised and trained all the Lassies. We had two bt one had some kind of disease that almost ate his skin off. Remember that I was only a seven year old when we got that dog, so I don't know all the problems that this puppy had. Then we got Pepper.

Pepper needed more grooming than I did. But we had pepper until he died after we had been in Oklahoma City for a while. I don't know where he went. I just know that he got sick and didn't come home from the vet's.

When Jerry and I got married we got puppies after we moved to town and had our own apartment. His mother was not used to dogs in the house.

We had puppies until we went to England in 1973. England has a quarantine for animals for six months. Families are able to visit the cats and dogs, but they are not allowed out of the cage. Louise, that's Jerry's mom, said they would take the dog for the two years we were gone. She took good care of that dog and even let her sleep in the house.

Then we got Mandy for me and Killer for Lynn the Christmas of 1978. We were going to have Yorkie babies. And we did. First litter was one puppy.  We named her Priscilla because she was so prissy. The second litter was EIGHT. No more puppies!

We've had two others and Jerry fell in love with both of them--of course that's because he was home to see them grow and have them pick him as THEIR person.

It's been two years and one month since Jerry died and Sarah is sleeping on the floor that was the side of the bed Jerry slept on. I guess she just knows that that's where he slept.

Sad but true.