As We Lay Sleeping

Many nights have I spent in hospital rooms. I have kept vigil with aunts, mother, mother-in-law, father-in- law and friend. The medical staff that work the night shift at hospitals share a camaraderie with each other and the night sitters. Folks, all of us just trying to make it through one more night. The night staff readily shares their coffee and conversation. I am sure they are less interrupted by tests, food delivery, visitors,etc. I have great admiration for hospital staff. They allow us to maintain a dignified relationship with our loved ones. So as we lay sleeping, let us not forget those angels of the night.

Special thanks, thoughts and prayers for the staff on 2200 at St Bernards in Jonesboro, AR as this night and their shift comes to an end.

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Where in the Heck Have I Been and How Much Longer 'Til Fall?

I have been thinking about fall and the 110 plus temperatures have just made it difficult to move or write.  Design predictions or trends are all over the map.  Think of all the stylist that work for catalog companies and you can just imagine how difficult it is for them or buyers for your local shops to think about fall and winter when the temps are in the hundred plus category.  One item that can make a big change or impact on your decor is the addition of decorative pillows.  Pillows make a big impact when considered to make seasonal change.  Two types of pillows that will be everywhere this fall are crewel embroidered pillows and suzani pillows.

Here is a set of suzani style embroidered pillows from Acacia.com.  This set offered at $103.97 for three give much bang for the buck.  Two sets of these on a neutral sofa would set the tone immediately for the fall season.

This little number from Cost Plus World Market is only $ 19.99.  Added to other fall pillows will add that ethnic look that is so popular for fall.

These two are original Suzani pillow covers from Uzbekistan for sale on www.eBay.com. The price is $ 32.00 - $ 42.00 for two.  The workmanship is incredible for the money.  Just look like fall on a pillow to me.

Another set of eBay Uzbek pillows.

Another category of pillows that add punch for fall is the crewel or the embroidered pillow.

These two felt with crewel embroidery sport colors that are hot for fall.  Purple,lavender and orange.  These two are available on www.amazon.com for between $ 9.00 and $ 12.00.  So much color for so little money.  Can see these in a nursery as well.

These two traditional crewel beauties are from www.potterybarn.com  and will add a touch of fall to any decor.

From Pier I Imports a softer crewel for $ 29.95.

For those with a modern approach to decor these crewels fit the bill.

These two are offered by www.PillowsandThrows.com for $ 120.00.  Nutmeg and sage green inspire us to think about fall and cooler temps.

These two bright, happy fall beauties are embroidered and are from www.bedroomfurniture.com.  They can add the right touch to any room for  $ 75.00 - $ 85.00.

Be it crewel or suzani the search for the pillows, for the right room, for that fall pick me up should be fun to find.  Start the search now.  If you find the right one, let us know where and how much.

Easter Bonnets

Easter 1962.  We were at my maternal grandparents house.  Gathered for food and fun.  Lindsey was eleven and one can tell by her expression she is not happy to be participating.  She was way over the notion of ankle socks and Easter egg hunts.  The boys are looking dapper in there slacks and blazers.  Guy is sporting a bow tie which I think looks especially nice. 

Caroline has all the makings of an Easter doll; hat, gloves, and natty little handbag.  I doubt that my mother could have kept us in an Easter hat.  Mike is the baby and he is in, ofcourse, all white.  We are sporting those terrible pixie hair styles. A hat might have covered our terrible hair styles.   Mother always told us it was just too much to do up three sets of pig or pony tails.  With a brood of five I can certainly understand that. 

The weather around Easter is so unpredictable.  Lindsey and I  have jackets but Paula and Caroline must be freezing.  As I have shopped and looked at all the adorable Easter frocks available today for female children I have observed the dresses are still being made without sleeves or with short sleeves.  Today you are offered a tiny sweater to complete the Easter outfit.  Tiny sweaters are a good idea so that the female tot doesn't freeze. 

I certainly do not believe that those horrible, little nylon anklets helped protect us from the chill in any way.  They may have looked sweet with those patent leather maryjanes,  but we all hated them and could not wait to become old enough to dump them.  I am sure as soon as photos were made we, like Lindsey, got rid of them and had the blisters on our heels at the end of the day to prove it.  

I searched high and low for photos of any of us wearing Easter Bonnets.  I think they fell out of fashion in the 1960's.  Such a shame.  I am sure Katy remembers my forcing hats on her on Easter but somehow they never made it into a photo.  I love a good hat.  I wear them often.  I find myself wearing my hats mostly at the pool or the beach.  Sometimes I throw caution to the wind and just sport one around town. Hats make me feel more feminine somehow.  I seem to carry myself a little taller.     Sometimes a good hat is difficult to find.  Easter is the perfect occasion to don a new hat.  Hats seem to be more prolific in the stores today.  I hope that forecast that more women will be wearing hats.  I recently treated myself to three new hats and I am having a difficult time deciding which to wear on Easter this year.  All you saints out there rest assured  that I will be seated in the back so as not to block your view.  Maybe some of you can suggest which hat would work best. 

This white hat is simple.  I have a bucket head so all my hats tend to have a wide brim.  I have a simple shift with blue and green print that this would be perfect with.  I have never owned a white hat so I feel quite brave about this one.

This Italian natural straw hat has a very dramatic brim.  I see this with a simple linen ensemble.  I fear the brim would interfere with communion so I will possibly save this one for a hot summer day when I am too lazy  to spend 45 minutes with the blow dryer.  Linen slacks and a loose tunic would work just fine on a hot summer day .

This Italian straw is sophisticated, yet fun at the same time.  Simple black suit or sheath with black heels and pearls would complete the picture here.  The brim is not so intrusive as to cause an accident at the communion rail. 

I am so looking forward to the spring and summer hat season.  Easter seems to be the beginning of new life and a new season in many ways. If we are lucky, Easter day will be sunny and warm.   I will be out and about wearing my hats all spring and summer.    Don't think I will wear the anklets as I don't think they will work with my pumps and pearls.

Sassy's Chicken Salad

Sassy was famous for her chicken salad.  Those who enjoyed it wanted to be on the list so they could receive a quart when she next cooked it up.  Her rule:  If you don't return my quart jar (glass), you are off the list.  Unfortunately, she did not leave a recipe.  If one asked her for the recipe she would give you a list of ingredients and then you were on your own.  Katy spent several days with Sassy watching her and she has the recipe down.  She,like mother, cannot tell you amounts, only the ingredients.

Today Lindsey and I tried to duplicate the recipe.  I was cooking for a friend who is off her feet for eight weeks.  The menu:  Homemade Pimento Cheese, Homemade Carrot Cake, and Sassy's Homemade Chicken Salad.  I was grating carrots at 7:00 am for the cake.  Thought it would be cute to use my six inch cake pans.  I have decided that few families can eat a regular size layer cake and besides the little cakes are just too cute.  I carefully prepared the pans, made the batter and placed them in the oven.  Quickly, I discovered I had neglected to add the four cups of carrots I had risen so early to grate.  I jerked the cakes out and added the carrots. I had to wash the cute pans, dry them and regrease and flour.   Whew!

 On to the homemade pimento cheese.  This recipe requires three kinds of cheese, so out with the food
processor.  At this time I put my chicken breasts on to cook.  I was so preoccupied with other prep that I somehow missed the smoke billowing from the oven. I had neglected to adjust  the recipe for those cute little pans and the batter overflow was burning on the oven elements.  I decided to let them cook unless I saw flames as I knew time would not allow me to bake another scratch cake.  Thankfully, the weather is temperate today so I opened the door to let in some fresh air so that  I could breathe.

All the while I am washing dishes as I go.  I just can't stand dirty things about me when I cook.  Pimento cheese is done. As both pimento cheese and chicken salad require hand mashing,  their is much hand washing going on in between.   I move on to draining and cooling the chicken.  At this point I think it safe to remove cakes to cool.  They look a little strange with the centers saggy and sad but I am thinking the homemade pineapple, cream cheese frosting will hide the damage.  Back to the chicken salad.  Chicken is cool so I set about to process it.  Ofcourse, the processor bowl had to be washed and dried from the pimento escapade.

Lindsey arrives to help and bring the celery that I forgot to pick up at the store.  Eggs are boiling.  We wash, clean and cut celery.  All the ingredients are to be processed separately or as Katy says one will end up with chicken salad pate'.  Lindsey and I are both nervous as we have never attempted Sassy's Chicken Salad.
We are at a critical point.  We have processed:  boiled eggs, chicken, pecans, celery.  I am afraid there are not enough eggs.  Lindsey says it looks fine to her.  We move on to the most critical point.  The additon of mayonaise and Durkees.  The amount of Durkees is critical and I am working on borrowed time as I have a 12:00 p.m. hair appointment.  I am certainly willing to spend a morning cooking for a friend but not at the expense of a missed hair appointment.  We add amounts, taste test and add more or not.  As I have a cold, I must depend on Lindsey to give the final decision.  She concludes it is a success and I am on my way to clean up the kitchen and make that hair appointment.

The cute little cakes were saved by the frosting.  Lindsey said frosting was yummy as she was licking the bowl, so I pray my disaster goes unnoticed.

Needless to say I was completely exhausted when I arrived at the hairdresser's salon.

Sassy's Chicken Salad

Chicken Breasts:  cooked and shredded
Boiled eggs
Celery:  Not too much
Sweet Relish:  just a plop
Pecans:  Whatever you have
Mayonaise:  A glug, glug
Durkees:  A glug

Process each ingredient separately so you don't have chicken pate' in the end.  Mix ingredients and hope for the best.

This is as was told to me.  Good luck.

Paula, One Beautiful Smile

My sister, Paula, has a  birthday  March 1.  It is the most difficult birthday to remember because February is so short and it sneaks up on me. I am always ashamed that I can't remember until I look at a calendar and then it might be the 27th or so of February. I am  ashamed because  she has always had the most beautiful smile and the most unforgettable laugh and I should remember to thank her for sharing that especially on her birthday.  She is just a toddler in the first photo. We spent many happy days together growing up in a large and loud family.  I remember when she was about this age and we were playing outside (I am sure we were barefoot).  Somehow Paula met with a nest of hornets and they proceeded to give chase.  We chased Paula as the hornets chased her and screamed our lungs out for help.  By the time help arrived she had hornet stings on her head and hand.  What a sight that must have been and what pain she must have suffered.

You can see for yourself how beautiful she and her smile were.  This was taken before my wedding.  She and Lindsey served as bridesmaids on one of the hottest days in June.  The color yellow suited both she and Lindsey so well.In this next photo she is pictured at Lindsey's wedding.  She is so tiny and cute.  Once again she is wearing that incredible smile.

This is a photo of Paula, Mawmaw(our grandmother), Sally(our mother), and Sarah (her daughter).  Four generations of women.  Once again she is wearing that beautiful smile.All three girls are  pictured here with our mother and grandparents.  Must have been the 80's.  What dreadful clothes, shoulder pads and all.  Paula just radiates.  I am sure someone had said something funny.  Maybe Paula. 

Paula and I have not had the opportunity to live in the same community since 1972.  We keep up through visits and the phone and now the internet.  I miss having her beautiful smile and personality with me. 

I write this today as I am thinking about March 1.  I know she will be sharing that beautiful smile with someone.  I hope it will be me. 

Mother's Safe

Geneological research is time consuming and fascinating.  Writing pieces for this blog has encouraged me to attempt to write an oral history for G4 and  G5.  My cousin, Caroline, has labeled our family's  generations so conversations will be easier and sorting photos much easier.  She is the brainy one of the group and has a creative mind as well.    G1:  My grandparents or relatives older, G2:  my parents, aunts, uncles,  cousins of theirs, G3:  me, my siblings and cousins  G4:  our children, cousins, etc  G5: our grandchildren, great nieces, etc.    So many stories are lost to me before I begin.  My search is not for facts, ages, or dates, but for the story of how the generations are connected.  Sometimes one must look at the facts, ages and dates to have a point of reference.  The search for a point of reference led me to my mother's safe.  I always knew mother had a safe but never asked to know what valuables were kept there.  Privacy in a large family is held in high regard.  As I never rummaged through my mother's purse or her drawers, I would never have dared to explore her safe.  I was aware that as arthiritis had begun to  ravage my mother's hands she had  stopped wearing her rings and put them in her safe.  Other than that I was unsure of the mysteries hidden in the safe.

The hunt for my parent's birth certificates, passports and social security cards sent Lindsey and I on the mission to find these items.  We first searched secretaries, secret drawers, and some very obvious hidy holes.  This part of the search produced multiple children's social security cards, immunization records, report cards, newspaper articles, various historic legal documents and a multitude of disjointed photographs.  We were also delighted to find a baggie full of handwritten recipes.  These were written on envelopes, receipts, and anything mother had available for jotting on. We have hidy holes yet to explore.   Our hunt led us to the safe.  We first were granted permission to explore the safe by my father.  We found the usual coins, silver certificates, deeds, titles, etc.  We found mother's birth certificate, passport and social security card.  Dad's were not in the safe and is a search we will continue.  The most interesting item we found in the safe was a copy of mother's permanent record.  We laughed as we looked at the record of her grades.  We realized this item was put in the safe to keep young and curious eyes from seeing.  My mother was a very capable and bright woman.  Her grades reflected that she sought  a very social experience throughout her academic career.    Most of mother's children were like her in that regard.  Lindsey and I have discussed the fact that we attended school mostly as a social activity.  We did what we had to in the academic realm, just enough to keep dad and mom happy or sometimes not so happy. Our main focus was our friends and groups of friends.  Maybe mother thought if we did not see the evidence of her school social life we would be more academic.  DNA often wins out over influence and certainly was the case here.  Once again we found ourselves in our mother.  The connection so strong.  Strong enough that the metal and locks could not have changed how our personalities developed and how we approached our formal education.

Many of us look back over our academic lives and have regrets.  I don't think mother really had regrets, she just wanted us to be more academically engaged.  Maybe she knew that the women of our generation would be called on to be more formally educated and to have a more active role in the working world.  She was from the generation where women were expected to  be mothers, nurses, or teachers.  Any academic acheivement past that was unusual and looked at as odd.  I took my secondary education much more seriously.  I was engaged in the process of learning and developing the skills necessary to work as a professional.  Even though I had advanced my education to the secondary and master's level,  I knew that Mother was much more intelligent than I.  I have found that the social connection gene she passed on to us has been much more valuable at times than my formal education. She was so wise and had the courage to tell the truth as she saw it, to anyone, regarding any situation.  That type of confidence can not be taught in an academic setting.  It is a confidence that comes from knowing what does and doesn't work and being observant enough to remember the difference in the two.

I haven't hidden my report cards in a safe.  I really don't know where they are.  I am eternally grateful that Mom put that record in her safe as it made us mindful once again of the good DNA passed on to us.

Note:  As spell check is unavailable at this time please forgive any errors that I did not catch on my own.  Spelling was never my forte and if I have to get out Webster's for every questionable word it would drive my academic or is it social soul crazy.

Antidote:  I get very upset and emotional when I make an error.  Richard has always reminded me that "it won't go on your permanent record".  Praise Be.

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day has been celebrated for many years. The way we celebrate depends on our age, where we are in our life, who our people are and what is important to them. This photo was taken around 1956. I was three years old and am barely visible through the crowd of children and decorations. The two in the front are my sister, Lindsey and my cousin, Guy. Caroline, the baby at the time, is in the high chair. Paula is in the plaid dress. She would have been two at the time. Our life was full of celebrations in the 1950's. When our mothers and friends made a celebration it was an affair. All the confections were homemade. We were dressed for the occasion and expected to use the manners we were lovingly taught. No paper plates, no plastic forks and spoons. Love was involved in every step from preparation to clean up. There is one head, must be a boy, I do not recognize. This could have been any of my mother's friend's children. I tend to believe it is Drew Wood. I think Brenda Wood may be hidden between Drew and Lindsey. Drew and Brenda's mother, Verna, was my mother's life long best friend and the original "Martha Stewart". Every event required decoration. We were so lucky to have my mother and her friends teach us how to celebrate. How to dress for an occasion. How to set a table. How to sit at a table that has been set for an event. It made our lives better at the time and better for a lifetime.

My aunt, Lillie, was always a part of those parties. She and the other mothers took such care in preparation. My memories are full of beautiful, well set tables at my Aunt Lillie's house. Even those of us that sat at the "children's table" were greeted with a well set table. A starched and laundered tablecloth, cloth napkins, silver, crystal and some small centerpiece.

When I celebrate an event today, perhaps it may be the successful completion of a meal for friends, I am mindful of those experiences of our youth. I carefully prepare the food, not always completely homemade, dress the table and myself for the occasion. These rituals always bring to mind the spirit of those parties long ago and the wonderful ladies who took the time to prepare. My mother always said "people who dress pretty, act pretty". I believe people are more thoughtful when invited to share a meal at a dressed table. My mother, my Aunt and my mother's friends had no idea that there careful execution of those children's parties would be passed on to their grandchildren. My daughter, Katy, has become an adult who loves the ritual, that makes even a daily meal an occasion. I attribute that to those days in the 1940's and 1950's when my mother and her friends made even a nightly meal a ritual.

This Valentine's Day I will share a meal with friends. We are six people who have shared much of our adult lives together. As we go through the process of food preparation, setting the table; I will be reminded of those Valentine's parties long ago and be grateful.



Antidote: I often wonder if a meal or party well planned, where the adults are relaxed and fully engaged in conversation with the children would not go a long way in curing many of the social issues we have with our youth today. I do not believe it takes great financial resources to set a table and share a simple meal with ones children. Maybe we should start a movement.

Couple

Couple: to connect for consideration together; to join for combined effect; to fasten together; to bring into such close proximity as to permit mutual influence; to join in marriage.

Mutual influence. I never thought about couples in this way. Sometimes I think the influence is not so mutual but is actually more one sided. This is a photo of Richard's parents. It is a photo of Kathryn and Owen before marriage. I think Owen was the stronger influence. Kathryn learned to love to shoot a gun, bait a hook, and participate in anything that would take her outdoors and eventually connect her to her three boys. She was unafraid of critters and creatures. One time, after Richard and I were married and trying to grow something or anything in our first yard, I ventured into the woods with Kathryn to look for wild fern to transplant. I asked , "what shall we do if we see a snake?" I am terrified of a snake or anything resembling a snake. She said we would run. Of course we saw a rather large snake and I ran for the truck. I turned to see her beating that snake with a stick. She was remorseful and did not want me to tell Richard she had killed that snake because it was one of the good ones.

To join for combined effect. Sally and Jimmy were like that. They were especially like that when they danced. Watching them dance together was a magical experience. They danced with fire in their eyes and smiles on their faces. I don't think they knew another soul was witness to their dancing. I think they were happiest when they danced together. Their bodies moved so well together. Their steps never looked old fashioned or out of style. Their moves seem to fit whatever genre of music was faddish at the time. I have seen them look at each other just as they are in the photo a thousand times. I can't remember when they stopped dancing together. The last time I remember them dancing was twenty years ago one New Year's Eve. Mom would have been about my age. She fell that night on the dance floor and broke her arm. She had a fit at the hospital because they wanted to cut her new sweater in order to get to that arm. I know dad thinks about those dances with mom. I am sorry that style of dancing went out of fashion. I would love to see that combined effect one more time.

To connect for consideration together. Richard and I are so young in this photo. He was my best friend. An older guy that gave me advice.It is so ironic that one piece of advice was do not get married to anyone until you finish college. I thought he was quite handsome and so smart. This photo was taken the day he left for California to go to Coast Guard boot camp. In that day we still wrote letters. I have often thought that Richard and I fell in love compliments of the US Postal service. I still have poetry I wrote to him, letters he wrote to me. Photos back and forth as if we thought the change in six months would be too drastic. He finished boot camp. I finished high school. He was to be sent to Corpus Christi, TX. I have always thought he was just plain lonely in Texas. I can't even remember how marriage came up. The wedding. The hottest day on record in June ever. The trip to Corpus. We both did a lot of growing up. Especially me. I had never lived away from my family. I started college and was married all in the same year. We grew up together. I think this makes each more considerate. Richard had given me a copy of "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran. Gibran describes marriage as two trees with joined roots but that shade one another and allow growth. I think our marriage has been like that. We are connected for consideration together.

Miss MV

I have always had a special place in my heart for Miss Mary Virginia Smith. I also had special affection for Sam, her husband and a life long friend of my mother's. Mother and Mary Virginia were friends most of their lives. Our family's lives wove in and out of each other's. We all lived in the small delta town of Forrest City when I was but a babe. Miss MV tells me that she and Sam would come and fetch me to spend time with them. I was one of three girls, Lindsey 2 years older and Paula 18 months younger. Sam and MV were yet to have Leslie and David. I am sure I loved the extra attention paid. Time moved on as well as both families. I don't remember the particulars but we all lived in Little Rock for awhile at the same time. MV and Sam had started their own family by that time and ours had expanded to include two boys. Once we moved to Mississippi we saw the Smith's when visiting our respected grandparents in Forrest City.



My junior year in high school my parents moved us to Paragould, AR from Clarksdale, MS. For you blog followers you will remember we were struggling with the effects of the civil rights movement. I believe Sam and Mary Virginia and Miss Nancy had some influence on our choice because they had all made their homes in Paragould. We maintained our home and our dad his business in Mississippi for some time. Their were occasions when the family would return to Mississippi and I would choose to stay in Arkansas. MV and Sam were kind enough to let me stay with them. I am not sure how David and Leslie felt having a displaced teenager invade their home, but I loved it. MV would allow us to make all kinds of creative messes that my mother being the mother of five just couldn't allow. She had the patience of Job and never became agitated or lost her temper. MV was always and will always be the picture of a southern lady. Kind and thoughtful. Full of happy and positive thoughts. Quiet and thoughtful. I always had aspirations of some day being like her. I think I am more like my mother but hope I have some of MV's attributes.



It has been and is a privilege to have MV in my life. It is such a comfort to be around someone who has known you forever and finds no place for judgement in her heart. I know MV loved mother and me. I know mother loved MV. I hope MV knows what her life has meant to me. She will remain one of my fondest memories and best surprises when I am able to see her.

Miss Emmy Witt

Today is a sad day for Miss Emmy Witt. She is morning the loss of her sister "Sissy". Emmy has taken care of her sister for the past few years. Before that Emmy took care of her mother and another sister. Emmy has been a caregiver her whole life. Emmy taught P.E. in the Paragould Public Schools until she retired. Having no children of her own she made the girls of her P. E. class her children. She was involved in the choir at the First United Methodist Church for as long as some can remember.

I know Miss Emmy well. Others know her better. My family moved to Paragould my Junior Year of high school. We moved here from Clarksdale, Mississippi. My dad had a business in Clarksdale and for several years he and we commuted. We moved because in 1971 the Clarksdale public schools were in turmoil and not many could afford private school for four while paying for a new freshman in college. I was devastated when my parents broke the news to me on my return from cheerleader camp at Ole Miss. It was a difficult decision for them and I am quite sure I made it more difficult for them. I left behind my friends, boyfriend and my way of life.

Miss Nancy Mahan and her children were already living here as well as Sam and Mary Virginia Smith and their children which in some ways made the transition more bearable. Blog followers will remember these two women and Sam, I might add had been friends of Sassy's since childhood. I would grow closer to these two families as we now not only would share an early childhood but a young adult life.

In spite of the fact that I had siblings and mother and her friends I was stubborn in my anger and sadness. Emmy is the one who saved me from drowning in my sorrows. She eased me into life in Paragould by involving me in activities that the active kids were involved in. I had fulfilled my credits in P E but for some reason Emmy liked me and wanted to help. She checked me out of other classes to drive her red convertible to the Dairy Queen for her lunch. Of course the happening kids wanted to go to. She made me a part of homecoming assemblies in any way she could. She pushed me into activities that a new girl was not usually involved in. I met people and began to like living in Paragould. I found myself wanting to stay here to participate with my new found friends. Months before would find me back in Clarksdale trying to maintain those relationships.

I will not question why she chose to help an angry teenager from Mississippi but I will always be grateful. I love Emmy Witt and I am sad for her today. How lucky we all were to have Emmy love us "Sissy" , me and all the others.

Fizzies and Poppers

When we were growing up the neighborhood grocery store was common. They were in every neighborhood within walking distance of homes surrounding them. We all had charge accounts as this was in the day before credit cards and debit cards. It was convenient for mothers to send the older children to pick up daily used items; bread, milk, etc. Most had butchers and a family could buy meat as well. It was in the day long ago when children "ran" the neighborhoods and folks looked out for one another. Mothers thought nothing of seeing their children at breakfast, lunch and dinner only during summer vacation. The windows were open and the children usually just a holler away.

Two particular incidences come to mind.

One hot summer day, my sister and I, I am sure barefooted and dirty, walked to our neighborhood store. Sitting on the counter tempting us with much gravity was a box of poppers. Poppers were a type of firecracker that you threw on the ground to make a popping noise. I think the grocer probably intended to sell them individually. We charged the whole box to mother's house account. We happily left that store and planted ourselves on a curb and began to pop those poppers. Mother discovered us involved in this activity and was curious as to where the poppers had come from. When we told her we had charged them to her she made us "march" right back to that store and return the remaining poppers. I believe there was some counting and accounting to be done. I wonder how much mother's bill for poppers was that month.

In our day the car dealerships were positioned downtown as to be in the center of everything. My sister took me by the hand one day and we wandered downtown to the local dealership. She informed the owner that we were interested in purchasing a vehicle. While he entertained her in conversation an employee was busy calling our mother to come and fetch us. All involved found much humor in this little activity.

It makes me so sad that convenience stores and crime are now a part of the fabric of our lives. We sometimes don't know our neighbors much less the neighborhood in which we live. We would never consider letting our children or grandchildren "run" the streets. The children now have play dates and many scheduled activities. I am so glad that I grew up running the streets and knowing my neighborhood and community. That freedom allowed so much for free time and creativity. It made us friendlier and kinder. Even though there are many modern conveniences, I have grown accustomed to and could not live without, I miss those days when we were less harried and more relaxed with one another.

Antidote: Fizzies were a powdered item that when added to water made the water flavorful and fizzie. I am sure we charged some of those to mother's house account as well. Some brave children would put the fizzie directly in the mouth and always said that it was the best sensation. I am sure the drink was full of sugar, red dye #10 and chemicals but it was a true pleasure of my childhood.

Palette Party

In this photo: Rebecca, Little Guy, Lindsey Rowe, Paula and Caroline. This was the whole group in 1956. Yet to join us were Jimmy, Kay, Keith and Mike. Many times when we were at Mawmaw's together we would sleep and take our naps on palettes. In this age where children in the U.S. are likely to each have their own room with en suite bath, few will know what a palette is. My definition is a layer of blankets or quilts on the floor in the living room, dining room (under the table was always best), on the screened porch,etc. where a child or a group of children would lay for a nap or a night's sleep. We loved the palettes. There was something cozy and other wordly about getting the chance to sleep on the floor and especially under the table. Trying to sleep with a group of children who were a variety of ages can be a challenge. I can remember we all learned quickly not to put our feet on Paula as she was likely to bite. She just hated for anyone to touch her with their feet. Mawmaw made a game out of nap time or night sleep. Imagine being able to con five children into thinking they were on a great palette adventure. I think Paula is toting a gun in a holster in this photo. You don't see children playing with guns anymore but this was a more innocent time when guns meant cowboys and Indians. Playing cowboys and Indians is most likely not even politically correct now. We had such a charmed childhood, surrounded by the women who loved us. Claudia, Lille, Sally.

Lindsey, Paula and I are sporting hair dos that were known as a Pixie. We had these hair dos because mother did not want to put our hair in pig tails and pony tails anymore. I imagine that mornings were less chaotic without all that hair to brush and put up. Hair washing day must have been made easier as well. No more crying and fussing about tangled hair caught in a brush or comb.

Can you imagine what those Pixies looked like after a nap or a night's sleep on a palette? A bushy mess.

Lindsey is holding Caroline. Lindsey was a good big sister, cousin. In many childhood photos she can be seen holding the younger ones. She was our leader. We all looked up to her. Whatever she ate, we wanted to eat. Whatever she did, we wanted to do. Whatever palette she was on, we wanted to be on too.

Tea Party

In September we had a tea party. One of Mother's oldest friends was being buried that day. I was to go to the funeral and then three of her friends were coming back with me to have a tea party. At Mother's direction I got out the linen napkins, china and sliver. We carefully placed a bakery cake on her antique cake stand. She insisted every item be laid out perfectly. I left her with my sister-in-law to attend the funeral.



The funeral was difficult for me as I could not remember when I had not known Miss Nancy. I had grown up with her children. It was comforting to sit with the friends that had known mother and Miss Nancy.



I returned to find mother dressed and ready for company. She looked beautiful. Blond wig, bright caftan and even a touch of lipstick. She was so sad about Miss Nancy but so excited that her friends were coming. The tea party was a success. Mother was so alive that day.



We buried mother in October. I don't think those ladies have any idea what that day, that tea party meant to mother, to me and to my sisters. The strength those ladies had to have to bury one friend and then have a tea party with another. I am amazed and inspired by them all.

A month later those same wonderful ladies returned to be with us when we buried mother. There presence once again a great comfort to us all. I hope when I begin to bury my friends I have the same courage.

Lunch with the Girls

My sister, Lindsey. and I had lunch with Sally's friends yesterday. We drove eighty miles down flat delta roads to a small community in Arkansas . Colt is square in the middle of rich Arkansas delta farm land. Sally made this trip once a month as often as she could for as many years as she had lived close enough to do so. We were apprehensive as we had not seen our mother's friends since her funeral. We would not win the prize for longest distance for lunch. There are three girls who drive Interstate 40 from Little Rock once a month to have lunch with friends they have known all their lives. Most of these girls graduated from high school together in 1947 or 1948 from Forrest City High School. Some went on to college together. Some stayed and started families.


Ofcourse our apprehension proved to be just that. We were welcomed with love and warmth. There are two of these wonderful ladies that mother would say she could not remember when she did not know them. Lindsey and I have known Verna and Mary Virginia our whole lives. We have known husbands, children and some of their grandchildren. Our lives would weave in and out of the others over the years. We lived in the same small town for a couple of years but our grandparents never left. When we would come back for visits they were always a part of our activities. It is a comfort to know these wonderful women . They keep Mother alive for us by their presence and stories. Mother was always so comfortable when she was with them. As many of them moved away and moved on we remained connected through telephone and visits when we all met in that small delta town. Many more stories to come about these great women.

Lee Mahan Beasley was also at the luncheon. Her mother, Nancy Mahan was also a part of this group of ladies. We knew Miss Nancy and her children our whole lives also. Miss Nancy passed away in September. We are all so sad and miss her. Lee and I lived in Marianna for awhile together as children. Later, when we moved from Mississippi to Paragould, AR she and her brothers were living in Paragould with Miss Nancy. There have been years when we have lived apart. Yet we share so many memories. We share our love of the lunch girls.

Antidote: When the Mahan children and the Rowe children got together there were nine of us. Mother and Miss Nancy had gotten in the habit of sending us out to play and locking us out of the house. I am sure we drove them crazy asking for drinks and snacks. This might be considered child abuse now but I think they thought the older children would watch out for the little ones. One day we were playing "crack the whip" I am not sure if this is a game anyone else played as a child. Maybe we just made it up out of boredom. In this game a line is formed by the players holding hands. The line leader then snakes the line back and forth and round and round trying to knock the last one on line off. For this particular game I was the end of the whip. As I was knocked off I flew threw the air and fell right into a coke bottle. Hand bleeding, screaming, complete chaos. We could not get Nancy and Sally to open the door. Finally, the older children held my hand up until the mother's noticed that my hand was bleeding. Mother rushed me to an old doctor in downtown Mariana. He put my hand over boiling water(I am assuming to sterilize the wound) and then sewed the skin back onto my hand. All I received for that trauma was a lolly pop and a lifelong scar.

Hissy Fit

I am feeling antsy today. So antsy I almost had a hissy fit this morning. I am intelligent enough to know that I am tired and overwhelmed. Usually I could call mother and she had the words to calm me down. Once she told me to go clean every toilet in my house and be greatful to have them to clean. She thought this act gave one time to think and accomplished something useful at the same time. I know there was wisdom in that but sometimes I just don't want to clean a toilet. I want to scream, holler and cry. Not very ladylike and unacceptable to most. Most of the women of mother's generation did not allow their husband's to do one thing. Every household task was women's work.

Even the women who worked outside the home were left to do the mundane household tasks at night or on the weekends. My mother-in-law, Kathryn, was like that. She was a house-a-fire, constantly moving; cooking, washing, cleaning and then working sometimes a ten hour day. She was intelligent, amazing and I had great respect for her. I have watched her mow the lawn, paint the exterior and interior of her house, catch and clean fish. She had a green thumb (I think Katy inherited that). She had the most beautiful flower garden. She could plant a bare stick and it would become the most beautiful plant. She was kind to everyone and I never remember her having one hissy fit. She also was a fine seamstress. She designed many a garment for me that I still admire and wear. I am worn out just typing the list of accomplishments that were hers. She wrote elegantly. I loved receiving bread and butter notes from her. She always had uplifting words of love.

Kathryn never forgot a birthday or and anniversary. The men she worked for at her work place and home were so lucky to have her. I wish I could be more like her. I am a woman of the strange generation. To be accomplished had not so much to do with home and family. Success was to be found outside the home. I am still working on that. Kathryn had that covered too. She was most efficient at her job and every person she worked with had great respect for her. Had she been of my generation or a man of her generation there is no telling what she would have accomplished and all without a hissy fit.

I am feeling calm now. I did not clean a toilet but the feeling is the same. Had my mother or Kathryn been living during the computer age I think they would have written their feelings on a blog and we would have all been better off for having read their wise words.

I miss these two wonderful women who loved me so much.

Antidote: Spell check keeps trying to correct hissy fit. If there is someone out there who doesn't know what a hissy fit is please ask.

Big Day in the Rowe Family

Some years ago this became a big day in the Rowe family. James Hare Rowe Junior finally broke the spell of an all girl family. He was a chubby, happy baby and the delight of us all. He was all boy and when old enough took to running the streets of our southern town with his dog Skipper. He played youth baseball and was the only one on the team that would not wear shorts. Mother used to say she always knew when the boys would be home because Skipper wanted out to meet them. I know this is a difficult day for Jimmy. Mother always made a big deal out of each child's birthday. So Happy Birthday to Jimmy on our big day.

This is a photo of James Hare Rowe, Jr. in the lap of his grandfather James Edward Rowe.


Antidote: Mother always swore by a bar of dial soap to take grass stains out of athletic trousers. We tried it on Katy's soccer pants and it didn't work. Mother said like everything else the ingredient that had worked had been removed from the product.

Hey "Sug"

Mornings are the most difficult. I talked to Sally every morning. Sometimes we just caught up with the other siblings that had called with news. Sometimes it was to discuss the day ahead or the week or weekend to come. She always greeted me with Hey "Sug". I have a feeling she greeted all of us with Hey "Sug". "Sug" being a diminutive of Sugar. I am so glad she did not call me that while I was growing up. I don't feel like" sug"would have fit me well. She may have been the only one who thought I was as sweet as sugar. She overlooked so much. My name was always Rebecca to her. The first few years of school she marched me in by the hand on the first day and explained to each teacher that my name was Rebecca not Becky and that I was never to be called by a nickname. Later in Junior high, I had many nicknames but the one most used was Becca. I even had that put on my cheerleader uniform. She did not like that at all. I explained that the "Re" would not fit on the megaphone of the uniform and for some reason she accepted that. I am so glad she was stern in this regard as I am definitely a Rebecca. Photo is of the megaphone Mother had saved.

As you can imagine my two younger brothers had difficulty pronouncing such a name and so to them I became something that sounded like tobacco. It is a miracle that that didn't stick. I don't know why she easily called the brothers, Mike and Jimmy. All of her female chicks were called by full names; Lindsey, Paula and Rebecca. Whatever she called us we felt privileged. There were times she would say to us only things a mother can get by with and we accepted it easily.

She loved her grandmother name, Sassy. It suited her. She became known as Sassy to all of her children, grandchildren, their friends, all that knew her and loved her. Sarah Clyde Proctor Rowe, our Sassy.

Sassy

My cousin Caroline has suggested a series of writings on "what would Sally say". Excellent suggestion. As anybody who knew Sally well would know she had a lot to say about every situation. At the moment sometimes I had no idea what her comment could possibly mean. A day would always come when her Sallyism made complete sense. I will have to consult Lindsey as she has become our family memory. Mother was that for so long. Thank goodness we have Lindsey.

Antidote: When Katy was young she and Sassy were having a conversation regarding higher education and its benefits. Mother informed Katy that one of the most valuable lessons learned at college (Mississippi State College for Women) was how to vacum. Katy was ofcourse fasinated by this notion. How ,Katy asked, should one vacum. Sassy demonstrated as she described "seven times one way and then seven times the other way. It is the only way to be through". Still makes me giggle.

Mother's Drawer

My father has been requesting to have my mother's bathroom drawers emptied. I have been avoiding this activity as it seemed as if this might be the final act I would be performing with her. She gave her jewelry to her daughter's and daughter's in law month's before. Her pearls to one new grandchild that most likely will not remember her except through story and photo. It was most difficult to pilfer through her things again. We never allowed ourselves to pilfer while growing up. We learned respect for privacy from her. My two sisters helped clean her closet out. Safety in numbers. We had no arguments ,this one wanted that and the other wanted something else. These drawers were the potions, lotions and perfumes that she used everyday. These items tell the most personal story. What she liked to smell, touch and feel. How age had affected her choices or not. She had not worn mascara for years for it irritated her eyes so none was found. Her eyes were an incredible blue color so the loss had little affect on how beautiful and intense her eyes were. There was other make up some worn little, some worn out with use. The colors in her eye palette were neutral. Lipsticks in bright, happy colors. The lipstick choices giving away her personality, vivid and bold. Old grooming tools, out of date curling irons, manicure kits given to her some birthday or Christmas long ago. Bottles of unused perfume. No empty bottles of Chanel #5 as it was her favorite and she enjoyed using that. Extra tooth brushes always kept for some unexpected guest's dental hygiene. A green bag with a brush full of her beautiful white hair tucked in the back of the drawer as if hidden in shame. She hated losing her hair the most as it was that incredible shade of pure white so few have. The cleansers, bandages and tape that had taken her dignity from her. Empty bottles of pain killers, a reminder of her last days. I miss her so much today.