Monday, October 27, 2014

The Spider

I wrote this years ago, but lost many of my stories when the blog I kept them at shut down and all was was grateful to find this one today...
The Spider...  (2006)
We went to a Rehab Dinner one night in the little town of Cottonwood. The women cook the best food, luscious pies and the money goes to the Rehab Center which helps those who have had stokes or any type of disability. They do so much good, and at no cost to those who cannot afford it. After we finished eating, it was time to go into the auditorium to listen to the local country bands, Each one has a specified amount of time that they play and sing, such wonderful music, so gifted, so talented, it is a blessing to sit and listen to them. While we were sitting there listening to a beautiful version of Danny Boy, a huge Granddaddy Longlegs spider fell from the ceiling onto Benny's hand, and then it came across onto me, and he flicked it off me, and it landed on the person to my right, ran across her skirt, and the next lady had a cane and she hollered, began to hit at the spider with her cane,the floor and also hitting the chair in front of her, and then it ran across the lady on the end seat, and she jumped up and began to wave her skirt as if she was fanning a fire, and I got down, I was laughing so hard the tears were rolling down my face. I said, “It is only a granddaddy longlegs, it won't hurt you.” to which she replied, “it is still a durn* (*nice version only) spider” and I laughed even harder. Country ways are always great and full of fun. I bet that spider could have won a marathon race.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

The Counting Rooster

Benny has such a funny sense of humor......we have one rooster and four hens...tonight, the rooster was just having a was dark thirty, I walked down there but did not take a flashlight...met Benny after a few minutes coming from the other barn yard....told him the rooster was having a fit..he said he had locked them up for the night, so I walked back to the house...again, the rooster started having a fit, so Benny took a flashlight and went back down to see if somet...hing was in the cage or what was up...well, one of the ladies was not in the he looked around and found her sitting on the fence and he put her back in where she was supposed to be with the others...he came back to the house and I asked him what was wrong...."Well"....he laughed....."that is one smart rooster"..."did you know that he could count ?".....yes, laughter is always going on at my house.....we both laugh every time we look at each other...we have a rooster that can count.....

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

The Two Turkeys

Daughter Debra wrote this a long time ago.....LOL

cartoon goat clipart

The 2 turkeys "Christmas" and "Thanksgiving":

Now my mother, being an intelligent woman, decided to get 2 turkeys and name them "Thanksgiving" and "Christmas" for the day they would be eaten. She , of course, pampered these critters, calling them by name, petting and coddling them, feeding them to make them fat and whistle to make them run to her. Well....2 males in the same yard? Um , no. So showing his prowness, around November, 'Thanksgiving' killed 'Christmas'. Which meant we had to eat him for Thanksgiving, which for the other turkey, meant a reprieve. Only I (Debra) had to pluck the dead bird...not having any idea what I was doing, nor have I EVER plucked a bird. How hard could it be? 
Oh...let me count the ways! First, I had no trouble with the smaller feathers, as they easily came out with a yank. But on the bigger feathers, I had to use a pair of pliers was awful! Secondly, did you know there was stuff that leaked out the end of feathers?? GROSS! Especially for a teenager.
Needless to say, I will never have a 'traditional' Thanksgiving...From now on, I will buy turkey de-feathered and ready to cook.... Oh I forgot the rest of the story!....I bet you were asking yourself, "What ever happened to "Thanksgiving"? My mother became too attached to him to eat him, so ...he became a pet, and later on, she gave him to a friend so he could live out his days with other females....

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Dear Lord, I Cooked the Snake

Old 11/03/08
Dear Lord, I Cooked the Snake !
This has not been a good morning....I am still shaking and upset with myself. I came in from work, started out to feed the animals, backtracked, decided I needed to get a roast on to cook for supper tonight, turned on the skillet to braise the meat, went out to turn on the stove, and as I opened the door, I saw a movement.......I took a quick look, mice are invading our place, but it was a small snake. I do not even remember turning on the oven, I was looking for the snake catcher to rescue it, make a quick call to Senior Citizen's Center for Benny to get home immediately.......I found the snake catcher, grabbed a container to put it in, and as I opened the door to the oven, I realized I had turned it on and the snake was in a coiled position looking at me....Benny came in the door, I am crying, "I BAKED THE SNAKE !". He is now laughing at me as I pulled out the racks, reached in with the snake catcher, and tried to pick up it's head, he is saying "Just pick it up in the fattest part" at this point. I managed to hook it and he, the gentleman that he is, announces........"Let me get the door for you !" as I take it outside. I threw it onto the road to get a better look at it, think it was a rat snake, but I hate snakes. I am shaking all over at this point. I told Benny that I knew God has a great sense of humor and is laughing at me, Benny is getting in his truck, laughing, "I can't wait to get down there (Senior Citizen's) to tell them what your emergency was"....and he is still laughing at me as he backs out of the driveway. I have looked all over that oven inside, I cannot see where that snake got in , he was small in size, I am puzzled, but feel sad that I cooked him ! Maybe I should go back outside and find it and serve it to Benny on a nice layer of salad tonight for his supper. Ray, our neighbor, got a big kick out of watching me coming out of the house with the snake in tow, he told me I could have walked straighter....told me I zigzagged all over...NO DOUBT !

Bob's Funeral

Another funny one I found...years ago....we had lost a family member...
A Family's Farewell
Well, we have attended two funerals in two days. Todays was rough. It was very cold, we are expecting snow/ice starting later tonight.The stories told today were so funny, I had to share them with you. It seems Bob and his buddy got a couple deer and brought them in, and Auntie wanted "her part" so Bob took over her part of the deer. When she unwrapped the package, it was two ears and the tail !!!! They said later on they had a family dinner. All were around the big table, and what a spread there was, when Auntie announced she had fixed a special dish for Bob. She brought out a covered dish and put it in front of him....she had boiled the tail and the ears !! There was a lot of laughter today. They said Bob had his own cathedral, the outdoors, and his choir was the birds that sang. And to top it off, they played his favorite song....Baby's got her blue jeans on.... and they laughed and rocked to the song. Yes, we have a strange family but the memories we share last for a life time .And I do believe, if we listen closely, we can hear Bob whisper,""ain't it nice?"

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Old Cookbooks

Old Cookbooks
I have a love affair with old cookbooks. I can find myself lost
in the recipes. I read the old ads, remembering what it is like
to buy everything at one store, not the malls of today, but
little country stores, where you could buy coffee, tea, sugar,
flour, spices, and a pair of overalls to cover your rear. I remember
the two and three story ones from my childhood.
I went to the flea market yesterday and found a treasure,
an old cookbook, 1931, Dungannon Community Cook Book
 from VA. I have really enjoyed looking over the old recipes,
love it when it reads to "use some lard the size of a hen's egg". 

I read the recipes, remembering as the hog was butched, how
we scraped the hair off after it was immersed in a drum of boiling
water, how the head was saved to make head cheese, and the
rendering of the lard,and the love of fresh cracklins and cornbread.
Pages of memories open to me as I read them.

"Scald one-half pint of  sweet milk", and I remember the old cow,
Bessie. She loved to switch my face with her tail, and a time or
two, I got kicked in the ear. I remember grandpa squirting a stream
of milk towards the cats, as they meowed loudly, each wanting a
lick of milk.

"Cream butter till fluffy" and I can picture grandma sitting on a stool,
the old butter churn beside, up and down with the paddles, until the
tiny golden dots began to appear, and soon, there was sweet, churned
butter, and buttermilk to drink. The butter was put into wood butter molds
so it would look pretty. Memories, down memory lane I go.

"Stone the dates".....or break a tooth, reminds me of cleaning the beans,
and when we would string almost dry beans for leather britches, I can
remember the little spiders that would pop out and run across grandma's
floor, giving me shivers, and her laughing at me. Where has time gone?
How many years has grandma been gone now? Memories, still alive, remind
me of her, and if I close my eyes and breathe deep, I can smell her lilac
perfume. She is always close, as close as I breathe. Her love always remains
around me.

"Everything is level measure"....."For measuring, use a cup larger than
ordinary size such as a glass goblet". There aren't many of them around these
days, but I still have about a dozen ice tea goblets found at garage sales,
their big bowls and frosted grapes on the outsides. Old timey tea glasses.
I remember the homemade sun tea with fresh mint or fresh lemon slices.
I remember grandma standing on top of the hill, we lived at the bottom
of the hill, and she would wave the teapot back and forth, time to climb up
to the top of the hill and have tea and biscuits with grandma.

"Do not stop folding the egg whites in until the cake is at the oven door"
Priceless advice, "Get the cake in the oven at once and do not open the
oven door for 20 minutes, and do not jar the stove". Sage advice from
the years past speak to me. I delight in the writings, knowing the love
special ladies have passed down from years ago. How precious they seem
to me, caring, loving , great cooks, teaching, helping, measuring, and baking.

"Line pie tins with pastry" many of us still love the old cooking utensils
and pans of the past. Some of my old pie tins have names of by-gone
products embossed on them. I love the old things. Cooking from "scratch"
used to be a way of life. You had to grow your own food, have your own
gardens, grow your own livestock, or have a hunter in the family.

There is a recipe in the book from THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON,DC.
It is for Spaghetti Croquettes.....the recipe from Mrs. Herbert Hoover.
I laugh to myself, as I have saved recipes myself from Mrs. Jimmy Carter,
Hillary Clinton,(and even Ann Landers). They have to be good, look at
the prestige from these recipes, they were used in THE WHITE HOUSE !

"These pickles will never wither or become white or pithy". I read the
recipes for cucumbers with a smile. "Wash carefully without removing
the prickles". I definitely want a pickle with a prickle, and I remember
trying to grow gherkins, and what a disaster that was !

Who knew, a cook book could bring such a flood of memories. We cook
on our stoves, gas, butane, electric,wood, we are all kinswomen with
heart, cooking and sharing our recipes to the next generation, wanting
the best only for our friends and family.
And I end this little story with
my favorite quote.....'You can sprinkle it with sugar and bake it in the
oven with love, but a cow pie is still manure". My deceased Uncle
Arthur Leo acturally covered a cow pie with icing, and sent it to the
neighbor's daughter, Annie Papcun, on her birthday. Talk about a
feud ! My poor grandmother never could understand why Mrs. Papcun
threw it over the fence back at her. My mother still laughs about it.

Small town ....USA

Only in Small Town USA

Just a few miles from us is the little town of Cottonwood.It is a beautiful little town, great people live there, and lots of history. The fire department needed a new building for the fire trucks, and everyone pitched in to make their dream a reality. This little town really worked. They had everyone, people, businesses, who ever could or would, donate something to be auctioned off for a huge benefit. They sold tickets in freezing weather, they had bake sales, you name it, and finally the big night all the towns around had waited for....the prizes would be given away. They had a catering service do all the meals, catfish,chicken strips, french fries, hush puppies, coleslaw, ice tea, and at $6  a plate, there was standing room only. Then after we ate, we all went into the big room they have set up for musicals and other programs. There were so many tickets sold, they could not fit them into the drum, so one of the local firemen brought his patriotic red, white, and blue cement mixer up on stage and all the tickets were put into it and turned on to mix them up. Another drum held the ninety prizes to be given away, and a wonderful young marine made our night by calling out all the numbers. It was a joyous time, full of laughter, yells, and as each number was called, the name, number of the ticket, and gift, was posted on a huge piece of paper. There were at least 6 or 7 sheets by the time they were through. Only in little town USA could a guy named Lamb win the prize of  the  registered Long Horn cow. That brought all kinds of laugher. The name of the fire chief is so hard to pronounce, every time the prize he donated was called, it was referred to as the fire chief. He had at least six cooked briskets and his little daughter won one of them. There was a registered Boar goat given away, a youngster won that, a computer with children's games was won by an oldster like us, and everybody laughed. There were flashlights, radios, a set of new tires, oil changes, a beautiful tiled table, and for those who had little money, they donated four hours of handy man work, or four hours of back hoe work, a load of sand, cords of wood, a beautiful homemade quilt, pillows, a John Wayne Pocket Knife, four hours of fishing at Roland's fish tank, Trees were donated, to be planted, and won as prizes,Restraunts offered meals for four, Hair stylists offered haircuts as prizes, even the barber had haircuts (10) as a prize...and the best prize was the was for all of us who bought tickets but did not win a prize...we were told we were encapsulted ....our tickets would be put in a box and sealed over with cement at the new fire station...who could wish for anything better than that !  I can tell everyone I have been covered in cement.  I just don't have a star !  But I can wish upon one, and ask God to bless every one of these wonderful firemen, to keep them safe when fighting all these fires, and keep them in the Palm of His Hand. 

Update...the local newspaper stated that $22,223.00 was raised for the new fire station .


Foster's Dairy

I was reading through threads this morning and this one tickled my
funnybones: (seen on a milk truck)

 Get High.......Drink Milk......Our Cows are on Grass !

 I have laughed all morning. It made me think of Foster's Dairy. It is out
of town a little ways from us...God fearing, hard working, cow loving
people. They work so hard to keep the milk flowing. I love a good glass of
ice cold milk, cold buttermilk, and Purple Cows, { A purple cow is a
milkshake made with grape juice and vanilla ice cream, so frothy, so cold
and soooooo gooooood! } . It reminded me of Old Bessie, my  Grandpa's cow.
I can still see Grandpa sitting on the milking stool milking her, the cats
would circle around him, he would give a good squeeze and send a stream of
milk shooting through the air with dead accuracy....all over the cat's
face...and he would laugh. I would sit down to milk, and I got swatted
with the cow's tail, Old Bessie would aim her hoof and manage to get me
along the ear at times, or the milk would be spilled on the floor. I was
hopeless. However, I can milk goats without problem. Grandma would save
the thick cream as it rose to the top of the containers, and later in the
day, we would sit and churn butter, up and down, up and down, till the
golden flecks begin to appear, and soon they cling together to form that
beautiful yellow butter. Then we would put the butter into molds. Our
molds were not fancy, just plain little wood squares that held about a
pound,pack it in, push down the handle, and there was a square of butter
to be put in the refrigerator. It also reminds me of this little saying I

 If a black cow can eat green grass and give white milk that makes yellow
butter, you know God is in charge.

 The years have come and gone, rules have changed, you can no longer go to
the dairy to buy your milk in your own container, we used to buy baby
calves to raise, many times they were so weak with the scours, they would
give them to you as they had a small chance of thriving. We used to have
bottles everywhere to fill with powdered milk formula for them, and hang
the bottles on the fence. They were hungry little buggers. The funny
memories that linger are a calf pushing against a bucket with a nipple on
it, and pushed Benny into the hot wire. They both got it. I laughed till I  cried. Memories,Memories, what a blessing the Lord gives us to recall the
happy times. Life is short. Enjoy each moment.

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Emmit the Coon Dog

There is something sacred to old moonlight hunters, and that is their dogs. They are upheld as idolic critters of the night, their eerie baying at unseen spirits of the dark, and noses that can sniff out a coon in the next county. At one time, we had thirteen of them, each named, each special, each with an inborn sense of finding that coon and treeing him. Benny loved to go out with the boys, they roamed the hillsides, the thickets, and valleys all over this county. Oh, the funny stories they would tell, each one boasting on his dog, but our friend Ray takes the cake. His old dog Emmit was one of the best around, and dearly envied by all of the coon hunters. Even old Sammy, with all of his trophies, did not compare to the skill old Emmit had in his nose. We ran into Ray and Ava at the cafe yesterday, and of course the stories began..and this one is surely one of the best….Ray, the dogs, and the rest of the guys went out hunting south of town, in the thick thickets, you can’t even squeeze through them, and they spent hours treeing the coons and taking care of the over-population of the night critters. They called the dogs in and all of them returned to the dog boxes except Old Emmit. Ray called and called, and became more distraught as the hours wore on, searched the tank to see if he was there, no Emmit, searched the surrounds, no Emmit, and finally, in the wee hours of the morning, and with a heavy heart, he made the distressing call to Ava…."Hon, we lost Emmit, can’t find him no where, I am going to stay out here till light, I gotta’ find him" Ava replied, "Well, you didn’t loose him, he’s right here with me, he came home about 10:30 PM"….and now the rest of the story…..Old Emmit had indeed taken off from the pack, and he ended up at some lady’s house. She found his name and phone number on his tags, and called Ava. She offered to bring the dog to her if Ava would meet her half-way, as she did not know how to find her house and it was dark. Ava drove down to the main highway and waited for the lady to bring Old Emmit home. The lady turned the dog over to her and told the funny story of bringing Emmit back home. She stated that Emmit knew every turn of the road, and if she made the wrong turn, he would start barking at her, she would retrace her route and continue on, and he would wag his tail. Ray now has a big brag……"My dog not only knows how to hitch-hike, he knows how to tell them to get to my house !"

Friday, January 17, 2014

Getting Too Old...

January 2014 . December 23 Well, it began with me unloading bags of feed....had about 350 pounds to unload.....had managed to get them off the truck and to the cans to be filled....trying to lift up the bags....had ripped open the string tags...and then I found I could not even lift up a bag.....what was going on....found myself having a hard time breathing....had no pains.....just could not figure out what was going on....drove myself back to the house and had to hold onto the rails to walk up the porch steps....this is really crazy, now.... I just ignored it for a few days, but Benny insisted I see his Dr. and he made an appointment.....EKG was not good, showed left brachial off to another appointment in Abilene with an echocardiogram and blood work done.....then another appointment with a cardiologist in Abilene.......trying to figure out what is going on.....another EKG was done....still showing bad pain, no swelling, no coughing...just short of breath.....everyone kept asking me, why won't they put me on oxygen or an inhaler....because it is not my is my heart...just have to try to see what is going now they ordered some meds....and they helped some...but now they have ordered a heart catherization to be done.....OH way out of this mess....I was not nervous about it, just wanted it over and done with......the OR was sure I remember that from when I worked OB, ER, and Surgery myself...but soon the job was done and I was in recovery....with a nice warm blanket.....and so it went for several hours during the day.......Dr. stated my arteries were clear.....had been brought on by high blood pressure, but my pressure was not registering high.......strange......anyway, the damage is done, will just have to slow down....and my Dr. told me I was like a cake....I am not the icing on the top.....I am at the very bottom, but with meds, he will try to me me toward the middle of the I just go every day at a slow pace....trying to get my frosting intact... We think we are strong, and we work hard at our farming, gardening, taking care of our animals, but we find we all have to slow now I am in the idle mode of my tractor....LOL