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Category: Family
We ain’t right
Y’all know how I feel about kids. I don’t want any, & most of the time, I don’t care for other peoples. But I have recently learned something. We need to be praying for mothers. Mothers everywhere. Whether they’re raising their own children or someone else’s. Whether they have one or two or ten or none and just want to be blessed with one. Or, in the case of this month’s “Awareness of the Month”, if they’ve lost a child through miscarriage or death. All these women are mother…s. Mothers are constantly fretting that they aren’t adequate. If they spend all day nurturing their child, they feel that they are neglecting housework or their husbands. If they miss a “Mom watch this” they fear that their child will have development issues & be in therapy for abandonment when they turn 21. They feel that they can never do enough & will never be able to protect them throughout their life. Mothers have a hard time. Most of my closest friends are mothers. Some of them, it’s all they ever wanted, & they are totally immersed in the motherhood thing. But they can’t protect their children from heartbreak. They’ll do anything to avoid problems. Other mothers are living the dream too, but the kids don’t cooperate. You hear these stories of kids that NEVER sleep….apparently that’s true. So that mother definitely needs prayers, as she…
Sometimes you meet people & think, “Wow. They are so nice. I could never be that good hearted.” This also brings to mind the saying, “Wouldn’t hurt a fly.” That sums up my step dad. He is humble, soft spoken, & good natured. He is gentle, kind, & loving. Not at all like me or the woman he married!!! I still can’t believe our good fortune! Haha. Now, he’s not perfect. He’s slow as molasses in January…slow as Christmas…slow as a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter…but good things come to those who wait! Love ya Scott. Happy Fathers Day. Happy Fathers Day to all the DADS out there. Happy Fathers day to the MOMS who have to be both. Happy Fathers Day to all the men who helped me grow: Uncle Dale, who patiently explained to me about fish guts & species of trees, Carroll Adams who claims me as his, Richard Montgomery for not killing me & Megan when we used his golf balls for creative purposes…and stole his convertible Mercedes to drive to a class in Morristown…and the old gentlemen I’ve met at work who counsel me day to day. There are many. And Johnny, who’s a disciplinarian to our naughty naughty dogs. Lol. I’m also thinking and praying for the fathers overseas who would like more than…
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl with long golden hair. She met & fell in love with a handsome young man. They were wed in the middle of Crawford’s Notch by Jimmy Temple. The little family grew, & soon they had three wild mules running around the house & over the hills. They had a swimming pool, but preferred the pond. Theirs was a picturesque farm on the river, in the middle of town, with beautiful horses grazing in manicured pastures. As the mules grew up & formed relationships with others, these friends were welcomed as family. Their home was always full to brimming with an ever growing group of people. There was much laughter & fun & plenty of tasty food. We sought counsel many times over the years & found understanding in their eyes and a big hug at every turn. The family remained strong & close knit as the years went by. They gathered every Sunday morning at the main home for biscuits and gravy at 9:30 sharp. It was the one time a week everyone was expected to convene together as a whole. They believed in agriculture, & they all worked hard to keep the Sevier County fair going so it would always serve as a special memory for all the kids of the county. They brought it out of a black hole & made it the best one in the state. And we were proud. This family was loved…
Getting quite a bit of this view today as I pray for my great uncle Roy Dykes, Tammy’s daddy. He’s a tough ole bird and my mind won’t quite wrap around that he’s in ICU and the doctors are not confident. They say it could go either way. Tammy’s momma always said Roy was supposed to go out of this world the same way he came in–by accident. He has survived the following: having been trapped under a tractor for an hour and ten minutes and was among Lifestar’s very first airlift patients. He had his middle finger ripped off at the knuckle while leading a mule (it’s buried in the flower bed…the finger, not the mule), he was attacked by a gigantic emu while trying to load them in the trailer (someone told him he could have them for free- “I ain’t gonna have no little bird hurt me!”). And while we’re on poultry…he was burning leaves out in the barn lot one time & it got a “little” out of control. Well, a rooster somehow got his tail feathers in the flames, & made for the barn. Roy followed in hot pursuit, before he could burn the whole barn down. He succeeded in running him out, mildly scorched but no worse for wear. There was also the time…
A long, long time ago, I was the new kid. I had never once in my life been the new kid. I had vowed not to be the weird girl in boots & wranglers ever again, so my first day at Walters State I dressed in a cute little tank top, little khaki shorts, & trendy sandals. (I was not only young, but thin, back then) My plans, at usual, got wrecked. I spilled my sprite all over my shorts in route to Morristown. You would think this wouldn’t be such a big deal, since it’s a clear drink, & would have plenty of time to dry in that early September heat, but that wasn’t necessarily the case. My shorts were dry clean only. So they had big dark spots all over them. Luckily, I had a change of clothes in my car….a pair of wranglers & old brown boots. So much for fitting in. Imagine my surprise upon walking into my first class & everyone was dressed JUST LIKE ME! I didn’t want to be the nerd who sat down front, & the back row was already full of ‘baccer chewing cowboys being rowdy & loud. I sat down in the middle row & tried to be inconspicuous. Not too long after that, this girl blew in wearing red jeans & a very shiny belt buckle. She sat next to me. We struck up conversation after having a…
Most of you know today as Pearl Harbor Day. To me, it will always be my Grandmother’s birthday as well. I could always remember it because it fell on a National day of remembrance. She has been gone a little over six years. I miss her, but not as much as I thought I would. My grandmother, a few of you know, was a bit of…how shall I say???…loose cannon? You’re a pistol growing up, and if you achieve adulthood & are still out there tenaciously fighting tooth and nail, you are a warrior. I can tell these stories now that she’s gone. She was married for awhile, but her husband was a bit of a spendthrift (among other things, I gather). Once, he came back to the house for a “chat” & she pulled a gun on him. He scoffed that it wasn’t loaded, and she shot the dirt from under his feet 25 feet away. That was the last time he visited. Oh, I know that .38 pistol well. I pulled it on Johnny one morning when I thought he was an intruder. Luckily, he was expecting it & came through the door hollering, “it’s me, baby, don’t shoot!” I reckon he’s always known me pretty well. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She knew me better than anybody. I…
Last Sunday I was driving down Boyds Creek & I saw these two old ladies out in the yard. One was pointing to a particular plant in her flowerbed, and the other was peering at it & nodding sagely. They wore polyester pant suits, it looked like to me, with their hair sets & big-enough-to-notice-but-not-big-enough-to-be-tacky necklaces. I slowed, and resisted the urge to stop & watch them, or better yet, join them. They reminded me SO MUCH of my great-grandmother, my Mamaw. I was fortunate enough to have her next door until I was in high school. She loved her flowers. There were several flowerbeds surrounding her home, taking up most of the yard. She had a huge sage patch, and she grew dill, and tended the biggest aloe plant I have ever seen (For those of you that have seen mine, think x3). She also had this magnificent Christmas cactus that blossomed so hot pink it didn’t look real. Anyway, any time she had company, that was part of the ritual: touring the gardens. No matter how many times you’d previously visited, or how recently, you still had to observe the growth of her “cannies” (gigantic leafy red plants with enormous stalks I always thought were hideous), her prizewinning elephant ears that I could hide behind until I was ten, her millions of tulips, the weeping peach tree she was so proud…
I’ve always considered my Grandmother a frugal woman. She married, moved out, and built a modest house that she continued to live in the rest of her life. She was not one to give up on a garment simply because it went out of style, or because she’d put on a “little” weight in the thirty years since she purchased it. My Grandmother had three cars the entire time I shared air on this earth with her. She kept towels on the seats to protect the upholstery and plastic floor mats. She left the plastic on her lamps in the living room. Forever. She bought store brand everything but toilet paper and Pledge. (I guess some things are better not scrimped on). I always thought my Grandmother was a thrifty woman. Until tonight. ….there is a commercial starring Marilyn Monroe that played a lot around Christmas. It’s an advertisement for Chanel No. 5. I adore Marilyn Monroe. I always thought I was more a Jackie O. kinda girl until I read biographies about both women. I digress. Anyhoo, I’ve had it in my mind that I would love Chanel No. 5 since I love Marilyn. Johnny started to get me some for Christmas, but when he smelled it at the counter, he wasn’t so sure I would like it. As far as perfumes go, it’s a little pricey, but I’ve always had champagne…
I reckon since its my mommas birthday I better be thankful for her, lest face her wrath, which is wide & encompassing. So I will be thankful that she brought me into this world (because many, many times she has threatened to take me out), thankful that she hasn’t killed me by now (because I know she has wanted to lots of times. She probably won’t admit it on here, much preferring to be seen as angelic but let me get her riled, you’ll see), thankful she’s always been a hard-working woman (she has held a full time job since I started school but also volunteered at the school all the time, &never missed a play/ special performance/etc. And she works on her yard like Jose or Hose-B). Thankful that between her & my grandmother, they tried their best to bring me up a well-rounded lady (well, they got half of it right, haha) by enrolling me in every lesson coming & going (baton, clogging, guitar, swimming, modeling). But she let me be a little redneck girl at the same time, tromping through the woods & riding horses bareback when I thought nobody was lookin’. Thankful that she catered-and still does to my book obsession. Thankful that she married a good man, my stepdad Scott, instead of someone who would have treated me like last month’s garbage. I’ve picked up that…
Today I am thankful for two important men in my life: My stepdad Scott, who is really more of my Dad than my Dad ever was. He has shown me how men are supposed to treat their wives (I think mom would agree) & how to be gentle & loving towards animals. He has a very tender heart. He is an EXTREMELY patient man, & can walk me through minor plumbing/ electrical/ mechanical issues from miles away and is GPS and Mapquest all rolled into one. Most recently, he took a very special trip with me down a very looooong aisle that I know wasn’t easy between his bad knees & the zillion degree weather. <3 ya Scott! The other one is my Uncle Dale, some of you know him as “Tiny”. (He is anything but!) He is a lot of fun, and very knowledgeable about the great outdoors. He always took time when I was growing up to teach me about different kinds of trees, how to shoot a variety of guns, the value of hard work, right from wrong, & a little bit of politics along the way. He has taken me on countless fishing trips over the years, and one very memorable deer hunting trip. Some of my earliest memories are of him. I love him more than he will ever know…
