A Look At Home

This week, two incidents have given me pause to examine some feelings. First, I have reconnected with some old friends from Grenada over the past few months and have enjoyed exchanging pictures of days gone by with them. Second, I received a decorating book that I ordered with the recommendation of another blogger. I knew I was wrong when I ordered the darn thing...too many pages were filled with things I could never have. I once had a pastor who said he threw away all the catalogs that came to his house. That they just set in motion a yearning for more and more things. How true.

As I mentally put the book aside, (still in my pajamas) I grabbed my camera and out the door I went.
I quietly absorbed the country stillness, the birds at the feeder, the gentleness of the breeze. I photographed "our land" from different angles.

This photo is the road "home". Every time I turn onto it, I feel a peace come over me. It's not grand...just a country road, but it signals that I can leave turmoil behind, if only for a while.

 

When I sit on my back porch, these pastures are my breathing space. Nothing fancy, just a few horses and some donkeys, a few rolling hills. But when I hear the hooves beat, and see them gallop toward their feeding area at dusk, it just can't be beat.

 

I enjoy sitting on my back porch when it rains and watching my rain chain flow.

 

 My birds that come to my feeders never disappoint me.

 

...and those that choose to nest with us every year are like loyal friends.

My friends are a lot like my favorite birds...there's the chickadee who always flits around, is friendly, kind,  shares with others and ALWAYS gives me birdseed as one of my Christmas presents! There are two cardinal friends. They are loyal, always present, and bring beauty and calm whenever they are around. Then there's my mockingbird. She is not afraid to tell me the unvarnished truth...she frequently states, "Stop the Madness!" and pulls me back when I overdo (..she also eats Mexican with me because my husband won't!) Now that's true friendship. My bluebird friend and I can be away from each other for many weeks, but when we get together, we pick right back up where we left off.

 

Below is my feeble attempt at gardening. I bought the tomato plant that was the largest and already had a tomato on it....lol.  My flowers really show off sometime and wither hideously other times. But I don't give up...every year I make space for some sunny little faces that give me immense pleasure when they decide to cooperate!

 

My point in this diatribe is that I really cherish my family, friends (both old and new)  and surroundings. I am satisfied..(if I had a workroom and a dining room, I'd be 100% satisfied). I don't love "things" like I used to. Instead, I love people and places that give me fond memories. I would rather somebody else be pleased or delighted than experience those feelings myself. No, I am trying to send out a "humble pie" vibe. It's just the plain truth.

I don't have to have a showroom house, inside or out. I used to think I did but not anymore. I consciously choose a home with integrity...furnishings with comfort...objects that have sweet memories and people with character and loyalty over showroom any day!

Blessings to each of you,

Angela

* Little Miss Apple Crateness

So my overactive conscience has been carrying around a bucketful of guilt for the past few days...I'm almost over it, but there's still a twinge every now and then. Now that there is some space between "the event" and the present, I'm feeling a little better, really...I'm ok. Let me expound...

Background:  When I was 5, I attended the all-girl kindergarten of Mrs. Walter Doty...I don't know, to this day, Mrs. Doty's first name. Everyone knew her as Mrs. WALTER Doty. Every little girl (and her mother) longed for a much sought after place on the roll of Mrs. Doty.

At the Merry Morning Kindergarten, we spent most of our morning, tap dancing and learning ballet. We sang our anthem, "We're from the Merry Morning Kindergarten. We have a lot of fun in all we do. So if we make mistakes, Oh, won't you pardon? For after all we're very little, too."

AS you can see, I took all of this very much to heart.

I don't remember if I ever learned anything more than the alphabet and how to write my name..but I loved tapping in those shoes. (I still own a pair...)

We had a Christmas Dance program and of course, our graduation Dance program.

Our costumes were rather costly for the 1950's, but everyone paid through the nose and obeyed all the commands of Mrs. Walter Doty...

including our mothers who I think feared and respected her as much as we did.

My graduation tap dance costume was hot pink satin with a white tucked bib front and a black satin bow at the neck with matching hat. The ballet costume was to die for...a beautiful shade a sage green...the tutu was matching green with golden sparkles strewn all over...I'm telling you, I wanted to live in that tutu.

 (Personally, if I had been taller (and thinner) I think I would have made a great ballerina.)

What has all that got to do with the picture above? Bear with me, as this is difficult for me to confess. That little apple crate chair pictured above was built by MR. WALTER DOTY...yep, all little girls had their own red apple crate chair. We sat in the top part and stored our ballet slippers and tap shoes in the bottom. At the appointed time, we'd change shoes, push the chairs under the tables ("very quietly ladies") and tap until our feet were exhausted or our toes were crunched to death.

Fast forward:

My niece, Lauree, let me know that an antique dealer in my hometown, had some of those apple crate chairs. She dutifully purchased one for me and I've had it for years. It doesn't exactly fit in anywhere and I've had it stored forever. One day last month, I decided on a "let's clear some stuff out of the attic" moment to take it to my little shop as a display piece. There Little Miss Crateness sat...and I'd explain her significance to every customer that would stop long enough to be enchanted with this magical story.

Enter "K"....pictured below.

"K" and I  were kindred spirits the moment we met at my shop. We talked and talked and exchanged ideas and I just really liked her a lot. I had to run an errand, so I left the store in the capable hands of my son, and bid farewell to my new friend. When I came back, "K" re-entered the store and approached me with the idea that she couldn't live without the little red apple crate chair...would I consider selling it?

Yep, you guessed it. I did.

 After all, I had known "K" all of an hour and a half....I had this feeling that she would take care of  Miss Apple Crateness. So I let the little chair go...I launched her into the world in the care of "K". sniff.

All I asked is that if she ever lets her go, that she makes sure she goes into capable, loving hands. 

double sniff

 I know some of you have lost all respect for me now that you know what I did...but this young woman is getting ready to be married. She loves "old stuff" like me...she has great visions of the future...she is an artist...she is a happy bride- to -be who loved my little crate. She will be a wonderful caretaker!

Now that the shock has worn off, I am happy I made the decision...I will always have my digital pictures, my scrapbooks filled with kindergarten recital pictures and my memories!! (and my tap shoes)

Have a great life, "K"!

* Restaurant Review: Crystal Grill in Greenwood, MS

Last Friday evening, the hubster and I enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the storied Crystal Grill in likewise storied Greenwood, Mississippi.

Established years ago in downtown Greenwood (the HEART of the Delta as my husband loves to say) it is located on Carrollton Avenue. If you are ever close, you really need to taste their 1/2 order of Veal Cutlets. To say they are good, is an understatement. (Do NOT and I repeat do NOT order the full order! You will never in a million years be able to finish it! Unless, of course, you have an 8' 300 pound Viking with you or maybe a 16 year old boy.) The Veal cutlet is smothered (and I mean to death) in gravy...if you are very concerned about cholesterol, you might ask for the gravy to be (gulp) served separately. But, caution, then everybody knows you are an outsider...of course, everybody will know anyway because "everybody knows everybody" in G'wood. Sidenote: (When I was first introduced to my husband's friends, they were silently appalled that he was dating a "hill woman".... I lived 25 miles away in Grenada, MS. "They" (deltonians) call those people (the rest of us) Hill people....hmmmm)

Look at those beautiful doors. The Crystal certainly has southern charm and ambience ... very much like a Southern Belle who has aged rather gracefully.


The Crystal welcome mat is always out and please note those tile floors!

The old church pew is a welcome respite for those who have to wait for a table. We arrived early so we wouldn't be in that pickle. And now that pickles have been mentioned, may I say that I haven't eaten Thousand Island dressing that delicious since I used to eat at the old Monte Cristo in Grenada (aka: Hill Country). Now THAT was Thousand Island at its finest!



Naturally, every southern- leaning magazine in America has penned some lines about this eatery.

The lady pictured directly above on the left was our waitress and has worked at Crystal for 52 years! Can you imagine?! I know it's true, because I asked her (and embarrassed the hubby.) You should have seen his face when I whipped out my camera and started taking pictures of the pie display! (Anything for the blog is my mantra.)

Speaking of pies, these were the last two left in a huge glassfront hutch. The lady even opened it up so the glare of the glass wouldn't be evident in my pictures. Since the hubster and some of his friends are somewhat "legends" in G'wood, I tried to keep the picture taking to a minimum so as not to embarrass them...as you can see by the "few" I took..lol. When is the last time you've seen meringue like that?

Now that you've brought up meringue, I guess it would be ok to divulge a deep, dark family secret...my husband, the Coach, makes the BEST chocolate pies and coconut pies in the universe..they are to die for! He once made pies for a lady's bridge club and she tried to pass them off as her own...but his reputation preceded him and the card playing ladies caught her in her act of deception! Banana pudding, you ask? Just ask the people in our Presbyterian church who makes the Banana pudding that makes the world stop dead in its tracks! They will certainly say...you know who...(for new readers: he insists that his name not appear in THE blog... ) That is a blog for another time...just thought I'd let you know, but don't tell anybody.

Ok, what else have I forgotten? Restrooms..oh, yes the restrooms...granite countertops and clean. Here's a tip: If a restaurant's restroom (in the south we say restroom, not bathroom, please) is clean, then it's ok to eat the food...if not, then I'd put the hospital on speed dial, just in case. At least have some Imodium handy. Our evening was a fun night out, and my personal opinion is everyone should dine in the DELTA in G'wood at the Crystal at least once in their life...one of those 100 things you need to do before you die.



Bon Appetit Everyone!! Now go make this weekend a good one!

Angela (who knows where my "signature" signature went!)

My Great Grandmother's Handwork

I must say my life has been pretty low-key the past few days...I am still in the middle of "purging" my closets and I am not sure how much longer I can stand all the excess that is spilling out into the hall and other rooms. I am determined to do it right and this means I will just have to suffer "the visual noise" for a few more days!


While organizing my pictures, I thought it might be nice to show you some of my Great Grandmother Sallie Atkinson Whitfield's handiwork. She was quite the seamstress and a poet! (I may have inherited something from her, but not her height or build...can somebody say "skinny"...after 8 or 9 children?! Yikes)


As a teenager, Sallie sewed not only her own clothes but the clothes of her 8 younger brothers and sisters.I am privileged to have a precious blue stripe "day" dress and a blue checked gardening bonnet of hers. Below is a picture of a picture I quickly snapped in the hall, without proper lighting, behind glass and my battery pack in the camera was dying! However, it is my Granddaughter Gracie wearing her Great, Great, Great Grandmother's blue bonnet. (I will post a better rendition of this picture later! )



Miss Sallie began dressing china dolls in 1938 well after she was 60 years old. My own grandmother, Edna Whitfield Alexander, was able to keep that doll collection of over 60 dolls intact until a few years before she herself died. The china heads, hands and feet were from Germany and the bodies were muslin stuffed with sawdust. Grandmother Whitfield copied Victorian costumes from the famous Godey's Lady's Book. (This magazine was probably the most influential woman's magazine of its time. Hand-tinted foldouts showed the Victorian lady the most up to date fashions.) Her dolls ranged in size from 10-24 inches and were shown throughout the south and the east including Washington, D.C. Below are two pictures. The first is the cover of the National Geographic that included a picture of my grandmother and the dolls and the second picture is the one that actually appears in the 1951 magazine. (Grandmother is third from the left.)




A 1985 news article stated,
"Each doll wears the authentic hairstyle of her period and each little costume
hides tiny cotton pantalettes and slips trimmed with lace and ribbons. Accessories
include bonnets adorned with ribbon and tiny silk posies, parasols, fans and
handkerchiefs."


Some of the dolls from my collection are pictured below. If you appreciate beautiful detailed handwork, you would love to see these "up close" and personal!

I keep this doll under a hand blown glass dome. She is over 73 years old. Her black silk dress is beautifully beaded. She carries a silk purse and has tiny lace and flowers on her bonnet.



Many dolls were special ordered and purchased by ladies throughout the southeastern United States. Below is a picture of a doll with a note attached. My G Grandmother did not select this material and felt the plaid was out of scale to the doll. The doll was in a special collection in Springfield, Illinois.


Below are some of the smaller dolls in their day dresses.







The baby in the cradle was similar to a Frozen Charlotte doll. The cradle was made by my father for his mother's little doll. Many of the fabrics have faded over time.

I have a postcard featuring the dolls. The cards were sold in various shops around the south. You can see the various details of some of the dolls on the postcard below. One of my favorites is the doll in the green on the left with the purple parasol. (That's Victorian speak for umbrella!)



These little beauties were much trouble! They wore silk, which frayed easily over the years. They had to be stuffed with tissue when packed and everywhere they went they caused quite a commotion! However, you can see why I love them and try to treat those I have left in my possession with the very best of care. I hope GG Sallie would be pleased!

My Top Ten Favorite Posts of 2010 & Hats Off to Julie!

Above you will see a picture of me (carrying the crown) and my friend, Julie, carrying the flowers for the Grenada High School Homecoming Queen. Julie was the catalyst for this blog. She encouraged me and if the truth be known, she is a MUCH better writer than I! I am encouraging her to begin a blog this year! Julie, Julie, Julie...they are chanting!!!


Happy, Healthy New Year to all of you! I was in bed and out like a light by 10:00. However, I am up and going strong by 5:00 A.M. unlike some who stayed out all night! I have made a resolution to NOT make any resolutions this year. For my first post of the New Year, 2011, I'd like to take a moment and reflect on my past 5 or 6 months of blogging.

I am delighted that I took the time to dive back into writing and artwork. At this stage in life, I have a little extra time on my hands. So I decided to do something productive and interesting with the time that's been given me. Thank you for "walking" with me (even though for some family members, it's been more like "I dragged them kicking and screaming with me" as I re-lived funny moments).

I decided to re-read some of my posts and chuckle a little this morning. I crowned some my favorites (but don't tell the others.) My favorite posts this year (but statistically, not necessarily yours) are listed below. I made a link for you if you desire to take another look.

1. To Laugh With Mother One More Time (She WAS the Funniest!)
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/08/to-laugh-with-mother-one-more-time.html


2. The Whole Enchilada and Chicken Daddy: Cub Scout Camp Out Minus Hubster
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/08/whole-enchilada-and-chicken-daddy.html


3. Why Certainly I'd Be Honored To:Cub Scouts at Strong River Day Camp
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/07/why-certainly-id-be-honored-to.htm.


4. Petey the Parakeet vs. the Little Gypsy: Trick or Treating
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/08/petey-parakeet-vs-gypsy-rose-lee.html


5. How To Wrestle an Alligator: The Duvet Cover Incident
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/08/how-to-wrestle-alligator.html


6.The Time Has Come To Be A Woman: Swimming Lessons
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/07/time-has-%20come-to-be-woman.html


7. Thanks for the Memories: Miss Hospitality & My Nannie
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/07/thanks-for-memories.html


8. Mirror, Mirror On the Wall: Getting Older & Plumper
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/08/mirror-mirror-on-wall.html


9. Polyester and Princess Reeboks: Getting Older & Trying To Wear Shoes
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/07/polyester-and-princess-reeboks.html


10. A Car Is Only As Good As Its Lights: Near Death Experience
http://amcinnisartworks.blogspot.com/2010/09/car-is-only-as-good-as-its-lights.html


Good grief, there must be a better way to link these posts...but I have no idea what that is..if you know, will you please let me know? That list should have taken about 5 minutes and it took 20!

However, I have noticed something. My favorite posts are about family and friends and the funny situations we often find happening to us. Laughter is truly a good medicine. I was never happier than when I was writing those posts. I hope they made you giggle a little, too.

Pictured above are Julie (& me) again...can you read her lips? She is trying to talk me into writing a blog...even at that age! What an encourager!!!!

Here we are again...Julie, front left, President of the FHA (Future Homemakers of America), me second from left..her ever faithful VP; Cindy, secretary & our Holcomb friend and my FAVORITE teacher of all Time, Mrs. Davis. Also, if you will look carefully, upper row, last person on right is one of my faithful blog followers, Pat. Her head is almost cut off, but she was our Reporter. (And a great Reporter was she!)

I enjoy the decorating tips and such, but my heart is in encouraging you. I hope in some small way I have succeeded this year. Who knows where 2011 will take us, but one thing's for sure, I am going to keep plodding along here and hope you will continue the journey with me. Happy New Year, ya'll!

* The Musical Career Goes Up In Flames

Do you remember just "having" to have something and then as soon as you acquired it, you decided it wasn't so great after all? Whether it was a boyfriend, a new pair of shoes or some other "gotta have it now" item, the lesson is a hard one to forget. Well, that's what happened to me in the seventh grade when I decided that I MUST be in the Junior High Band.

Now, anyone who knew me could have told you this was an idea waiting to fail. My parents, first and foremost, tried to change my mind. They put me off as long as possible, but I was relentless in my pursuit of making music my lifelong career. So after several weeks, they said "Ok."

Both of my father's parents were musicians and very good ones at that. I guess my father was hoping that maybe I had inherited that musical gene. I was hoping that I would be the most accomplished musician in the US, heck, maybe the world. In my mind's eye, I saw it all...the fame, the fortune, the ability to bring down the house. So nothing would deter me from signing up and being the greatest flautist in the county. Ah, yes, the beautiful gleaming silver flute. The perfect instrument for the pre-teen girl with all the great dreams!

My father arrived home from work and in he walked with a strangely shaped large leather case. We all gathered in anticipation of what he had in that case. His presentation went something like this..."Now you all know that your sister, Angela will be in the beginner's band. We want to support her and make sure that she practices and does her very best to realize this dream. So tonight I'd like to present her with her first musical instrument!" "Hmmmm, mighty big case for such a small instrument like a flute," I thought. When he opened that case I nearly dropped dead...not from excitement, I must add. Lying there, in all its satin-lined case glory was a curvy old instrument that looked like a pipe. "What in the world is that thing?" I inquired. "Why, it's my first alto saxophone! I thought you'd be a perfect match for it! I'm handing it down to you."

You know, I don't like to sound ungrateful, but a saxophone roughly the same height as me was not exactly what I had in mind. I smiled weakly. "Try it out! Try it out!" my brother and sister shouted. "Certainly," my father said," here let me help you." He brought the thing out and then reached in and pulled out a mouthpiece, a reed and a neckstrap. "You have to put it together?" I questioned. He snapped everything together, put the strap around my neck and for the next 30 minutes I almost blew my brains out trying to make a sound emit from the curvy beast.

I dutifully lugged that case to band every day..."Oh, I spoke to Mr. Mitchell today. He said you had real promise," said my proud father. (Promise? promise of what?) That sax squawked like a goose having his last honk before being plucked every time I tried to play it. I sat in band and glared at the flute and clarinet players..(Greer played the clarinet but I got the 500 pound old saxophone!) I didn't like biting down on the mouthpiece so I'd put my lip between the mouthpiece and my teeth. After an hour or so my lip was permanently indented and I looked like an adolescent who had upper lip implants.

To make a long story bearable, our big day arrived. We got to march in the Greenwood Christmas parade. Mr. and Mrs. B took Greer and me to Greenwood and rented a hotel room for the day. We were decked out in 100% wool uniforms and those hats with the plumes....Oh, my gosh. We were to play Jingle Bells and did we ever....for about 20 miles it seemed. By the time we rounded the corner to the main street area, I was sweating, panting (from lack of oxygen) and barely able to walk, much less toot that darn horn. My musical career came to a screeching halt that day in the delta sun.

To this day, I have trouble holding my head up straight (and of course, that's due to the stress that was put on my neck.) A small (but sturdy) young woman has NO business being forced to strap on a forty pound weight on her small neck. Gone were the dreams of playing lovely songs onstage with the Philharmonic...a gauzy musical nymph leaping about with the gleaming silver flute. But I did learn something very valuable through that experience, sometimes the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence. However, when you get to the other side, you will find that they just used more fertilizer.

* Up We Go Into the Wild Blue Yonder

If you read this blog regularly, you have already figured out that anything athletic (except my husband) isn't my thing. An incident came to mind this morning that I found rather comical now that there is 50 years distance from the day of the happening. The "incident" occurred the day I learned to ride a bicycle.

I don't ever remember having a small bike with training wheels...maybe a tricycle, but not a training bike. Among other things (lizards, off color lipstick, and bad fitting shoes) I am very afraid of heights. So the fact that this took place on an extremely elevated plain leaves me breathless to this day. Everyone I knew rode a bike, with the exception of me. Greer, my ever the dare devil friend, had a brand spanking new one. I think it had little streamers that came out of the handgrips. When she rode, the streamers whipped in the wind. Oh, how I longed to zoom by a group of friends, hair blowing in the wind (well, maybe not) but at least my streamers tossing about.

Every time I got on a bike to "practice", I'd wobble and eventually (after several seconds) would crash. It must have been my balance problem. I still have to watch that to this day. I wobble to and fro most of the work day. It's quite exhausting working plus staying upright for 8 hours.
So on this day, I figure that Mr. B (Greer's dad) took pity on her little bobbling friend (me) and decided this was it! He got me out in her yard and I practiced until even he, the ever present hand on the back of the bike, was worn out. After what seemed like hours, he made a decision that probably changed my life forever.

Greer lived on the tippy tippy top of a hill on Line Street. When going up into her driveway, it felt a lot like going up to the top of a roller coaster. I would clutch the car seat and hold my breath until we made it safely to the flat area of her drive. Anyway, Mr. B rolled the bike and me to the top of the driveway and said, "Ok, little Missy, this is it." What??? What was It??? What on earth was he thinking? I know what I was thinking....my short life flashed before my bugged out eyes. "I think," he continued," you are ready for the big time." (Could he be referring to my ascent to heaven?) I balked.

Patiently he persisted. "You can do this." He righted me on the seat (which, btw, was too tall for my short legs). With that he gave me a push and it was do or die! I put my feet on those pedals and pedaled for dear life. Down the hill I went, streamers flying and hair flat back against my head. When I hit the flat surface of the street, I kept going. I did it! I kept my balance and conquered the beastly hill. What a day! I can still see Mr. B standing at the top of the hill, grinning and clapping. You would have thought he had just launched Sputnik...and in a way he did! I owe him much, but most of all I owe him for teaching me to conquer a fear and soar into the unknown, knees knocking, but soaring none the less. Thanks, Mr. B. (This would have been Mr. B's 99th birthday today!!) Such a good friend!

* Lights, Camera, Action! Going to the Movies

(l to r: Greer, Beth, Ward, Angela, Martha Ray)

I haven't been to a movie in approximately three years. I can't remember the last time I truly enjoyed one. On my first date with my husband of thirty two years, he took me to see Orca the Whale...since then I could count on one hand the times we've gone to the movies.

Movies did play a role in my childhood. Every Saturday my friends and I would go to the movies or the picture show as we called it. You could buy your ticket, purchase a coke, popcorn or dill pickle and a Slo Poke all for 50 cents. My friend Greer's uncle owned the theater in Grenada. We thought that was great!

Once on a particularly crowded Saturday, she and I got to our seats early. They were good seats and I was excited that we had such a good view. I noticed a woman and her little boy walking up and down the aisle as the lights began to dim. They couldn't find a seat and they must have walked around the theater two or three times. Ever the "bleeding heart", I said to Greer, "Look at that lady and her poor little boy. They can't find a seat." Greer looked at them and I think she knew what was coming next. "I think we should give them our seats," I said. "Why?" she asked. "Because they need somewhere to sit," I replied. So the next time they wandered by, we got up and gave them our seats. BTW: I have always felt personally responsible for the Viet Nam Conflict, if that gives you a sense of where I am coming from.

By the time Greer's mother came back to pick us up, we'd been standing in the back for over two hours. "What are you doing standing back here?" she queried. When we explained our kind deed, she let us know that THAT is exactly why we got there early. So that same thing wouldn't happen to us. Oh, that's how it works...we never did that again.

Now I have already introduced the fourth member of this Merry Group of Girls in a very early post, but if you weren't reading carefully you may have missed her. My friend, Beth was also an only child and of the four of us, she was the most serious. If I had to assign descriptions to each of the four they would be as follows: Greer- mischievous, daredevil; Martha Ray-peacemaker, most sheltered; Me-homebody, artsy/craftsy; Beth-studious, most mature. Even though she appeared quite quiet on the outside, WE knew the truth. Beth was hilarious in a quiet way. You know the type...very dry sense of humor. (Except when it came to the "Beth dropped the cookie episode"...another blog, another day.)

In the 5th grade, Beth and I shared a boyfriend. His name was Ward. I think that secretly every mother of every girl in the 5th grade had their eye on Ward as a potential suitor. His father was a pharmacist and they thought he would be one too, so it was to our advantage to keep our eye on him. On Saturday we'd take turns sitting by Ward at the movies. One Saturday he was Beth's boyfriend and the next Saturday he was mine. We never fought and we weren't jealous of each other. It was understood that on MY Saturday, I got to sit by him and vica versa BTW: neither of us married him and he IS a pharmacist. I could use a good discount on my blood pressure medication about now.

The big night in every teenager's life in Grenada, MS was the night we first attended the MIDNIGHT SHOW. The movie began at 10 P.M. and the first time you got to walk into the Midnight Show with a date was a night like no other. We were all waiting with baited breath to be asked.

I remember my first Midnight Show. You could always tell who were the "first timers" because they'd parade up and down the aisles a lot. Well, I wanted to make certain everyone knew I was there, so I ceremoniously traipsed up the aisle to the restroom The restroom was pretty nice but the floor always seemed slightly damp. As I washed and dried my hands and prepared to flounce back down the aisle before the lights dimmed, I unknowingly had about 6 feet of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe.

I checked my lipstick, oh, yes, I looked just perfect. I started my victory march down the aisle and never noticed the TP until someone behind me called my name. As I tossed a casual look over my shoulder to see who had seen me, I was horrified to see the toilet paper trailing behind me like a wedding train for my shoes. I tried to dislodge the paper but it was wrapped around one of the legs of an aisle seat. I had to bend over in a very short skirt and fight the paper off my shoes. What began as a titter of laughter spread and swelled to orchestral proportions. Boy, could I make an entrance. See? My friend, Beth would have checked for all those things before she exited the restroom.

My real point in all this is to say how much I miss those days. All four of us living up and down Line Street in Grenada. Going to the movies. Most of the movies were so great! Gone With the Wind, The Ten Commandments, Walt Disney's Fantasia, South Pacific, West Side Story and a host of Gidget & Elvis movies were our fare. You may have paid less, but you sure got more bang for your buck. Very few cuss words, lots of action and the good guys usually won! I know this world is a world away from our children and grandchildren's world, but I can't help but wish for those days again. Life was simpler in so many ways. We didn't have Facebook or computers, but we had radios, black and white T.V. and phones which were attached to the wall!

Once in Cub Scouts, I had the boys try to drop a handful of clothes pins one by one into a glass milk jug. My son looked at me and in all seriousness said, "This is fun! What are these wooden things?" Poor thing. This young generation has missed so much that made America a wonderful country. Not just frills like movies, but the desire to work hard, do a good job and finish it...the way it feels to have roots and when the right day comes (and not too early) to try out those wings...always knowing that they could come back to those roots anytime. Not to feel entitled but to feel truly appreciative for what God has given us. Our world was so different and I think in most ways, better. Lest I sound like a fawning old lady who longs for the past and can't function in the present, let me say that I have really made the effort to "roll with the tide" and stay up to date, but sometimes it just does my heart good to think back to the good ole days....I can't believe I just said that!

Lessons to be Learned:

I think that they are obvious.

* For the Love of Strawberry Shortcake

I loved spending the night with both of my grandmothers. One lived in Grenada on Snider Street. She lived in a Tudor home built of stone and she had the most beautiful perfume bottle collection I've ever seen. Two arched built in shelving units were in the living room to house that collection. She collected "IN" stuff before the stuff was "IN". She wasn't very practical though. After my granddaddy died, she promptly put white wool carpet throughout the house, rented the house to people with dogs, and traveled all over the world. That carpet didn't look so great when she came back a year later. She didn't cook much either, but she could make a mean pecan sandwich if her cook happened to be off when I was visiting. I have several of her possessions now and I think of her often.

I loved sleeping in her guest room. It had a four poster bed and the most beautiful rose colored satin comforter I've ever seen. It was "down" filled and you felt like you had settled into a cloud when you got into bed (comforters figure prominently into my life...omen of things to come, I guess.) My grandfather had a closet that covered the entire back wall of his bedroom and there were mirrors on the doors. You could close the doors around yourself and see yourself from all directions. (Today I wouldn't dream of doing that. I haven't looked below my waist in a mirror in 8 or 9 years.) But in those days, I'd close those doors and twirl around and sing to the top of my lungs! I knew I had a bright future as a singer, based on what I saw and heard coming from that triangle of mirrors. Funny how your dreams don't always turn out exactly like you expected.

Isn't it odd what you remember about your grandparents? These same grandparents always had a pine tree for a Christmas tree while everyone else had a cedar. The small tree was always decorated exactly the same way every year, with red feathered birds and "snow". My grandmother wrapped all her gifts very elaborately. One year she wrapped one for me with a velvet hat cut from something and two black eyes and a cotton beard glued on the front. I thought it was just the greatest present ever! I hated to open it and had to be coaxed to do so.

My other grandmother lived in Sardis.You remember Nannie, don't you, the one who thought I'd won the Miss Hospitality pageant? She lived a very different lifestyle. Nothing fancy, but I loved going there, too. She would give me 50 cents and I'd walk to TWL and buy all sorts of little things to bring home, but ALWAYS I'd buy a pack of clay. Remember modeling clay? It came in "Butter"shaped little logs and there were several colors. I'd sit on her front porch and make clay animals...especially birds and birds' nests with tiny eggs in the nests. I also loved to listen to her red Coca Cola radio. When I became a "tween" I'd sit and listen to Rickey Nelson and Bobby Vee. I saw "Lassie" for the first time on her black and white T.V.


Once when I was about 5, she left me at her home with a wonderful black woman named Addie. Addie had worked for Nannie for years and I loved her. She would give me left over pieces of dough and I'd make little pies and biscuits. I liked pretending alongside Addie when she was baking. Well, this day Addie was making strawberry shortcake and as you may guess, I LOVED strawberry shortcake. My grandmother came home from work at noon and we ate our lunch, had our dessert and she returned to work. As soon as Nannie left, I asked Addie for more strawberry shortcake and she complied.


Later that night I was so sick with a stomach ache! My grandmother talked to Addie to see if I might have eaten something that could have made me that sick. Addie replied,"Well, she did eat some more strawberry shortcake after you left." My grandmother continued to probe,"How much?" "Oh, I think she ate about 4!" Addie answered. Four more? How could a little five year old girl consume 5 strawberry shortcakes???!!! (This was also an omen...I could polish off 5 like a snack today.) Anyway Addie's answer to my grandmother when asked why in the world would you let her eat all that was simply... "Miss Angie wanted them." Bless her good sweet heart. Addie always wanted me to have anything I wanted. I can still see her smiling face. She was so delighted that her little dumpling loved her strawberry shortcake! When I was older, I'd come in the house and Addie would say, "Oh, law, Miss Angie, we need to fatten you up! Have they not been feeding you at home?" I have a feeling she would be VERY happy with my figure today.

Now I've entered the realm of grandparenting. I just can't believe one day I'll be the old lady coming down the aisle at my grandchildren's weddings. I hope I can still walk down the aisle. Grandparents are a different breed. Something happens to your senses when you have a grandchild. You morph into "Addie" because you want them to have everything they want! I know it's not right, but something deep inside takes over. It's like this is another shot at getting to parent from a different perspective. You are older and wiser (and need to act that way), but those little chubby hands and someone hugging you all the time just does something to change the way you've looked at things for a long time. I saw little things down on the ground that I'd overlooked for years...ladybugs, tiny blue flowers, heart shaped rocks..all because of the little people who were now walking beside with me.

Once, Ryan (now 13 with a changing voice) brought in a little shovel. On it was a possum "playing possum". The possum was tiny and John was standing there behind Ryan laughing. I was sitting in my chair reading and a sweet little voice said, "Oh, GuGu, I have a little surprise for you." When I saw that possum, I screamed and jumped about 15 feet out of the chair, and Ryan just fell out laughing. I will never forget the absolute delight of scaring his GuGu senseless!

My grandparents played a huge role in my life and I hope I do the same for my two dumplings, Ryan and Gracie. The things I love today were in some measure introduced to me by my grandparents. Music, art, reading, handwork...all were a part of their lives and became an important part of mine. Memories of my grandmothers and my grandfather abound. Whether it was searching for "fairies" around a huge oak tree, singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in my mirrored concert hall or looking at the Madame Alexander bride dolls at Ford's Department Store in Sardis, those are the memories that I cherish. And you know what? NOBODY can take away your memories. I hope you will make some memories for some little person today. You don't have to be a grandparent to do it. Just be somebody who is passing on what has been preciously passed on to your heart.

Lessons to be Learned:
1. Don't eat strawberry shortcakes in 5's. It's best to limit them to around three. (I need to remember that!)
2. Whether you are a grandparent or not, you can be important in the life of a child. Look around, there are multitudes who need you out there.
3. If you have an Addie in your life, one who always wants the best for you, thank them now.

* The Time HAS Come To Be a Woman: Swimming Lessons

Anyone who knows me (and not even very well) knows that I am an INDOOR girl..heat, the great outdoors, sports are all very unnecessary if you ask me. So when I came home one day and asked my daddy if I could go to Grenada Lake and ride in a boat with a friend, he looked at me like I had abandoned all reason. "I would promise to wear one of those horrible huge orange life jackets. I wouldn't put my hand out of the boat into the water." I just wanted to be like everybody else and go to the lake and ride in the boat while my friend skiied. "Absolutely not," was the answer, "UNLESS you learn to swim." Here we go again. The mandate. Learn how to swim...why? If anything happened I had the large life jacket. It would hold me up until help arrived. "No."

So my friend, Martha Ray (who also wanted to go in the boat), and I got signed up for swimming lessons at the Grenada City Pool. That's how it all started. A simple request. Five days of Red Cross lessons with a "graduation" on Friday. The first day started well. We sat on the edge of the pool with our legs dangling in the water. Then things got dangerous. We had to get into the shallow end. Everyone else jumped in, but MR and I went cautiously down the steps. I've never seen so many children. How could they keep up with all of us? Would they know that #455 didn't come up when she went under?

For at least 20 minutes we practiced letting our faces touch the water..."No!" the lifeguard shouted at me, "not the side of your face, the front!" What?! That means my nose has to be under the water..this will never do. But after some coaxing, MR and I did it! Not once, but several times. I was trying to figure out how to do all this without getting my hair wet..another story for another time. Then we learned to hold on to the side and kick our feet. That was pretty fun...really rather lame...what's so hard about swimming? After our first lesson we excitedly flipflopped our way to the car. We had a great time! Why by tomorrow we'd be swimming all over the place!

Day two was more difficult. We did the jellyroll by grabbing our ankles and putting our faces in the water and "floating". I really can't explain how we made it through that, but we seemed to do pretty well. It all seems like a dream now. Then we learned to do the Australian Crawl...except we were supposed to be kicking our feet and crawling with our arms at the same time. Ha! Are they serious? MR and I tiptoed on the very tips of our toes and just did the arm motions. Why we looked like swans. We were flawless!

Day three passed. Still tiptoeing and crawling. Day four was our Waterloo. We arrived, removed our sunglasses, flipflops, folded our towels..anything to put off what was coming next. We were "whistled" to the middle of the pool on the concrete edge. Now I'm no mathematician but I know a 6 when I see it and it plainly said 6 FEET. I quickly calculated that I was about 4 feet tall. This meant No tiptoes today. The lifeguard (who was very cute, I must add) whistled for all 500 of us to jump in. Huge splash. Only two were left standing on the side...MR and me. We preferred the ladder, if that was ok. (We were pretty high maintenance even at age 10. ) We both hung on to the side of the pool for dear life...literally. When everyone else pushed off and began dog paddling, we both promptly sank to the bottom and had to be pulled out.

The two of us got some one on one time with an instructor and by graduation time (Friday) we did reasonably well...well enough to get our Beginner's card. But still not good enough to go boating!! I think my daddy and MR's daddy ganged up on us there.

Lessons learned:

1. When there is a choice between life and death, you better not tiptoe around.

2. If you are going to swim, you eventually HAVE to get your hair wet...it's ok, it dries.

3. You can fool some of the lifeguards some of the time, but not all the lifeguards all of the time!

* Thanks For The Memories!! : Miss Hospitality

Isn't it wonderful to have people in your life who believe in you, no matter what? That is the subject of my blog is today. It's about a person who believed the best in me and for me...always.

I arrived home from college in 1968 to see an evening gown lying on my bed. My mother informed me, "The Rotary Club wants you to represent them in the Miss Hospitality contest. Of course, I told them you'd love to." Naturally Mother was prepared for a fight. I didn't like "pageants" and I was usually " the bridesmaid, never the bride." So when I shrugged my shoulders and said "Ok", she felt she'd won that round. Little did I know she was about to present me with one of the funniest and most heart-warming memories of my life.

The night of the local pageant I drove myself in my VW Beetle to the contest wearing "the" evening gown and made a quick stop at the post office to see if my grades had arrived from college. They had, and I was pleasantly pleased with the marks, so I thought that I had already won. With a "song in my heart" and my decent grades in my gloved hand, I got back in the car and drove to the auditorium. I'm not sure how it happened, but I won the pageant. Finally "the bride"!! Now on to the state contest.

There were 67 young women in the state contest that year. We spent a (surprisingly) action packed, fun-filled week on the coast. The worst part was swimsuit competition. (After watching some of the pageants today, we looked like nuns compared to what they wear now!) My family came down for the festivities and brought my mother's mother (aka: Nannie). The big night approached and everybody was swathed in a cloud of hairspray and perfume, eyelashes mascaraed (is that a word?) and hair that looked like it had been pumped up with a bicycle pump.

(Ok, here comes the great part!) When they announced the winners, they began with third alternate and went up. And oh, yes, one thing you have to know about my grandmother, she was probably the most down to earth, humble person I've ever known. She worked hard and was quietly humorous. I NEVER heard her raise her voice. (Back to story.) Third alternate was announced, second alternate and then first. When the first alternate was announced my grandmother, in the heat of the moment, jumped to her feet and began clapping and announced for all the world, "She's won, she's won, Angela has won!" Well, you guessed it! I did NOT win. While my relatives were trying to calm Nannie, they announced the name of a lovely girl from Starkville as the state's new Miss Hospitality.

What has this got to do with anything? Surely you see the point. Maybe none of the judges thought I was worthy of a crown that night, but my Nannie did. She believed in me and that belief has meant more to me than she will ever know. When times have been tough (and they have been) I have thought of that night and smiled, even laughed at the thought that my demure grandmother was so pumped that she actually got up and clapped and announced that I'd won! In her eyes I HAD won. Thanks, Nannie, for believing in me... oh, btw, she was mad the rest of the trip. Thought the judges were either blind or had been "on the take"....oh, please!

Tomorrow: The Swimming Lesson or It's Time to Become a Woman

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old & Cracker Pie

When I was a "soon to be bride", the ladies in Grenada, Ms had a Kitchen Shower for me. They brought recipes and all the ingredients or utensils needed to actually make the recipe. A dear friend, Beth, actually made me a recipe file. Even though the file itself has certainly grown, her handwritten recipes are still there and are used frequently. Each time I open the box and see her cards, it makes me smile at the thoughtfulness of a good friend.

Recently, I saw another of those cards. It was written by a friend of my mother's . I am a Facebook Friend to this friend's daughter, and I sent the original card in her mother's writing to her. (I made a copy first!) Isn't it fun to have old friends and have their actions and kindnesses still circulating after all these years!

Remember this from Girl Scouts?
Make new friends, but keep the old.
One is silver and the other gold.


This is an old recipe that I once had and couldn't locate. My good friend, Julie found it and sent it to me for you to try! It's good and great when you don't have many ingredients on hand and need something sweet!



*Julie's Note: At some point I had calculated that 1/8 pie has 323 calories.

Divinity Pie (aka: Saltine Pie)

3 egg whites beaten stiff
Add 1 cup sugar, beat well
Finely crush 23 soda crackers
Fold cracker dust and 1 cup nuts into egg whites
Add 1 tsp vanilla
Put in buttered pie pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes
Topping -- when pie is cold:
1/2 pt whipping cream -- whip until stiff -- spread on pie
Sprinkle with nuts or coconut
Let stand in refrigerator 10 to 12 hours