Ms. Stevie

One of my earliest memories is of Miss Stevie and her daughter, Totsy.   Mama worked, as I said in the last post, at Jack's Cookie Company.  I'm the youngest of four children....6, 7, and 10 years younger than my siblings.  So, when Mama was at work and the other kids were in school, I went to Ms. Stevie's duplex in 'The Village'.  Ms. Stevie was a very 'fluffy' woman with gray hair who lived two rows down from us.  Her daughter, Totsy, lived with her.  Totsy had CP, Cerebral Palsy.  She was a grown woman, tall and thin, with dark hair.  She couldn't speak clearly but I learned to understand her although many people couldn't.  Totsy wasn't allowed to pick me up because everyone was afraid she would drop me.  But, she loved me and would try from time to time, always getting a scolding from her mama.

Ms. Stevie loved me and spoiled me rotten.  I guess I started staying with her when I was about 3 years old until I went to first grade when I was five.  There was no Kindergarten back in the day, not in our town anyway.  Mama would drop me off at Ms. Stevie's before catching the bus.  I was a real mama's girl and hated to be away from her, but Ms. Stevie had a way of getting me to let go of Mama's skirt tails and dry my tears.  She said, "Sweetie, what do you want Ms. Stevie to make for you today?  Do you want me to make a chocolate cake or a pie?"  :)  Oh yeah.  That's all it took.  Ms. Stevie loved to bake and I loved to eat, so it was a match made in Heaven.  She fed me well. Fortunately, and amazingly, I didn't gain weight back then.  I could eat whatever I wanted and not be fat!  Oh, to be able to do that now!

Another thing Ms. Stevie liked to do was dip snuff.  Oh, gross.  Next to her big soft chair, she had a coffee can...a big, two pound empty coffee can...that she would spit her dip into.  And, she wouldn't get rid of it until it was full. Blech!  Makes my stomach turn thinking about it!  But, that was the only bad habit I knew Ms. Stevie to have and she more than made up for it with her baking and her loving care of me.

Some people would say Ms. Stevie was my second mama.  But, I never thought of her that way.  Ms. Stevie was simply a warm, soft, sweet, caring lady who loved me and brings a smile to my face every time I think of her.

False pride

What do you think of this quote:
"The myth of independence is not the mark of self-sufficiency, but the mark of pride."

When I read that, it plays havoc with my mind and I'll tell you why.  I was raised by my mother after she left my father when I was three years old.  There were four of us kids and I was the youngest.  I don't remember my father's drunkeness or his cruelly beating my mother.  My siblings do/did.  They were 6, 7, and 10 years older than I.  From what I've heard it was horrific.  A story that, or course, sticks in MY mind is that one time my father was mad at my mother again for something or other and used my life to threaten her.  I was a baby and he held me, saying he was going to throw me against the wall.  No matter how my mother begged, he wouldn't put me down.  But, my sister Judy begged him to give me to her and he finally acquiesced.  Judy really saved my life.  I tell you that to show you the kind of abuse and torment my mother endured for 14 years.

Evidently, because of that torment my mother became fiercely independent.  I mean fiercely!  She wouldn't take anything from anybody.  She worked at Jack's Cookie Company in Baton Rouge, standing on her feet all day long, packing cookies.  ~~~a side track for a moment.  My mother always smelled like cookies!  When she stepped off the bus after work, the neighborhood kids would follow her home. :)  She gave the best cookie hugs!  A few times, I was able to visit her at work and being a cute little blonde haired blue eyed girl at the time, I was given special treatment.  I walked through the cookie company and saw vats of icing taller than me! It smelled so good and cookies were everywhere!  I'd watch the ladies at the conveyer belts, picking up long rows of cookies and placing them in boxes.  After the tour I was taken to the store in front and told that I could pick out whichever pack of the broken cookies I wanted. :)  Now THAT was the BEST gift for this little girl!  And, across the street from the cookie company was a coffee roasting company! When you walked down the street you smelled fresh roasted coffee and freshly baked cookies.  Oh my!  So that's where my love for both started~~~okay back to Mama.

As I said, Mama worked at the cookie company all day long and part of the year she would also work at the J.C. Penney's store to earn Christmas money.  I remember Mama saying that she earned $32/week.  That was for five of us.  Can you imagine??  The cost of living was much lower at the time, but $32 was still not much.  Our rent was subsidized by the government which helped.  We ate a lot of red beans and rice.  Lots.  And, I loved it, especialy with ketchup.  Spam and bologna were also staples.  I did not feel poor although obviously we were.  Mama was a great seamstress and she made a lot of our clothes.  Mama worked and worked and worked.  I don't remember her complaining,come to think of it.  I do remember her being tired.

But, no matter how tired Mama was, she REFUSED to accept charity!  She wouldn't think of it!!  I remember especially one Christmas when the Salvation Army or some other group brought a box of toys to our house...used toys, some were broken.  The neighborhood, or Village as we called it, kids followed the folks to our house as they carried this big box and all congregated at our duplex door.  We kids scavenged through the box, 'oohing' and 'ahhing' over the toys.  We were so excited!  But then Mama came home.   I remember the fiery indignation with which she spoke when seeing that box of charity toys.  Oh my goodness!! You would have thought that they slapped us in the face!  She said that we did NOT accept charity and she WOULD NOT have it!  She called the Salvation Army and told them to come get that box immediately!  And, they did.  My Mama would provide for us and didn't need their help, thank you very much!   Whew!  That took me by surprise.  I don't remember how the others felt, but I sure remember how I felt!  I felt upset and yet proud.  Proud.  Proud that my mother was so proud.

She taught us to never expect or even desire anyone to give us anything, but to do it ourselves!  Mama passed that pride right down to us four kids and we never forgot it.  We are..or were (two of us have passed away) extremely proud people.

However, I have learned some things about pride in all of these years.  I've learned that 'pride goes before the fall'.  I've learned that pride is something that God abhors.  We shouldn't be so proud that we think we don't need anyone, especially God.  Mama came to learn that she needed God.  We both accepted Christ on the same day at the same time.  She never, however, was comfortable with needing people.  She was fiercely independent and it was difficult to see her become a bit dependent when she developed dementia.  I know that it was hard for her to live away from home, not be able to drive, and depend on people to bring her what she wanted.  I tried to make it as easy as possible and give her some say in what happened, bring her shopping from time to time.  But, it was difficult.

Being proud....what's the good and what's the bad?  False pride is thinking you know it all and have it all and don't need anybody.  However, pride in oneself is necessary to a degree, don't you think?  People might say about a person, "He needs to take more pride in himself!"  Meaning, he has bad hygeine or doesn't dress appropriately, whatever.  And, yes, people do need to take care of themselves, to honor the person God created them to be.  Foolish pride is thinking you're 'all that and a bag o'chips'.  Or thinking you are self-sufficient...don't need anybody.

I'd say my Mama had a bit of both foolish pride and pride in herself.  I think we all do.  The key is not to let ourselves think that we have control over everything in life.  We NEED God.  Without Him we don't even have breath!! And, truth is, we need people.  We need love, comfort, fellowship, encouragement, exhortation, help.  We can get those things from God and people...but we really sometimes have to ask for them.  Foolish pride would stop one from asking for any kind of help.  Humility is a requirement.  Who likes being humble?  Well, Jesus who was King became servant.  That's humble.

God help us realize that we are only human, not superhuman.  As humbling as it is sometimes we need people.  Help us be kind to one another and help each other even before being asked to help.  And, if someone offers to help, make us willing to accept that as a gift from You.

Teach us about pride, Lord.  Only You speak complete truth, so let us hear it.  Please.

It's Constitution Day!

Charters of Freedom - Download Images

Prayer request

Heavy on my heart tonight is someone who's struggling, a whole family who's struggling.  I met this lady through a friend.  She's struggling with her teenaged daughter who has BPD, Borderline Personality Disorder.  The 17 year old wrote this while in one of her  'flare ups', for lack of a better word.  There are better words, but I don't know them.  This dear mother is so concerned about her child and reading the words breaks my heart, too. Most people can't put into words what they're experiencing, but this young girl did it quite well, I think.   I'll post it here, I told the mom I wouldn't use their names.  I wonder, when you read it, can you feel her pain?  If you know anyone struggling like this girl, please pray for him/her. Mental illness has a whole stupid stigma attached to it.  Physical illness...fine.  Mental illness...bad.  What kind of double standard is that?  Mental illness can be treated, it takes therapy, it takes time, it takes medication, it takes God.  Just like physical illnesses.  Don't look down on people who have a mental illness.  Help them.  Love them just like you would someone with cancer.  Please?
Her words:

So...the darkness pulls at me. And it pulls me up, but down. I guess they'd call it mental illness. But the truth is its my world. Maybe it will change when I go. But for now its what circles me. And entrances me. The sick hold it has on me writhes in me and changes me. I'm everchanging with the flow of life. Not flow. Rather, a twisting, speeding, rough and confusing ride. I hope but, sometimes I don't. I like it...it's my sick way. I feel so deeply and how can one feel deeply without the dark pulling at you pushing you under til your near dead...or pulling you up to ecstasy. Circling like gray black gravity. So i dream in black and white. And what does it matter. It is beautiful. It is light in a tunnel to feel so strongly and sleep so soundly. I am afraid but the fear numbs under its glowing pulse. The glowing pulsing dark. I don't know if this is how i am or if its this moment. Every minute feels like eternity...Ever lasting pain. But i cut; the pain is mine. I doubt anyone could ever know the truth. The hold it has on me. My friendly dope; my friendly blackness. I sweetly lay with it at night. I sweetly push it away when is clings to me. Thats the pills job. To push and pull me like my hard deep meanings and tears. I tumble and sweat. Hopefully I smile beyond this. But I like the aloneness and hate the aloneness of this back breaking burden. Kills me softly and interminably. I truly am so volatile. My head in so many worlds its inconcievable. My head in so many mentalities i should say. I get scared wondering who I will be in the next moment. What I will believe when I change into her or her or her. Help I try to say but my darkness dries the words from my mouth with a scorching heat.

Good grief! Bad grief!

It's not just death that people grieve, it's divorce, betrayal, absentee father or mother, broken relationships, lost hope, lost jobs, lost homes, friends moving away.   We humans have a lot to deal with.  I'm thankful, so thankful that God doesn't leave us no matter what we do or say!!!  Thank you God!

 Everybody goes through grief in their own way.  You can't judge someone because you think their grief is taking too long or you think they didn't grieve enough.  It's an individual thing and it comes in stages...and it comes in surprising moments of time when you don't expect it.

Can you think of what you've lost in the past year, two years, five years, ten years?  Sure, we all can.  We won't all deal with that loss in the same way.  Some of us push it way down and try to never think of it again, some of us can just chalk it up to life and get on with it!, some of us dwell on it and are depressed, some of us turn inward and shut people out so that we're not hurt again, and sometimes we do all of those things in stages.  At least that's my observation.

It's uncomfortable for a lot of people, especially men(IMHO), to talk about suffering and sadness or to see someone cry.  So a lot of times when we bare our souls or shed our tears and tell our stories, people back off.  They either don't understand because it's not something they've experienced or they don't know what to say.  Then you can feel more isolated. You can become bitter.

I've watched some of my friends with their losses and grief.  Some close and some from afar.  We're all so different.  A former co-worker lost her husband this year in an accident.  I see her from afar and I see her carrying on with life and work with such strength!! She's a Christian.  She's a strong woman!  I know she's sad and finding her way through the newness of her situation, but she shows such resolve to get on with things and live!  I admire that.

A friend lost her father not long ago, I saw her close up.  I saw her tears, cried with her, held her, loved her through it.  It's been hard for her, but she has carried on.  I see a little bit of bitterness and anger, but I also see wounds and hurt.  She'll be okay, she came from good stock.  I admire her for doing the very best she can in a tough situation.

I've watched a mother who lost her daughter this year and another who lost her young son.  Another precious missionary couple lost their son several years ago, and still another lost their young daughter!  I can't comprehend it!! I can't fathom what they're dealing with and God forgive me, I pray I never do!!  How can anyone deal with that?!  The crushing pain, the horrible emptiness, the guilt that seems to come with parenthood!  I've watched the complete agony in their sobs, in their eyes.  Oh, Lord. Those moms and dads I mentioned are carrying on through their continued grief.  They've found the strength to keep going and to do it with grace and to do it well.  I admire them so much.

I've watched parents whose child has had a serious, near death experience this year.  I've watched their love and faith, I've seen peace in their eyes even when it's mixed with concern.  I've seen them hold steady in the face of staggering physical and emotional trauma to their child.  I admire them.


God Himself knows our pain.  He knew the pain that He, in the form of Christ, would suffer, the sin He would carry for us...but also that He would rise again. And, I'm so thankful He did!  God knows that each of us will rise again one way or another.  {It must be agonizing for Him to know that some will choose to be separated from Him forever} He welcomes His children home and wants to encourage us that they are okay! He has them now.  He feels our pain no matter to what our grief is due, death, lonliness, separation, whatever!  He feels the pain of those mothers and fathers who lose a child. He counts our tears, dries our eyes, has His hand gently at our back encouraging us along.  We can run to Him and cry.  Sometimes we long for a human to understand!!! To tell us what to do!! To guide us to the next step! Come on! HELP ME!   But, the best they can do, the very best they can do is cry with us, love us, pray for us, encourage us.  They can't fix it, they can't carry us through it, but God can.

As I continue in this year of grief after the loss of my last sister, I have moments like everyone else.  I'm not as strong as some, yet stronger than others I suppose.  But, I'm hanging on, doing my best and when I can pray.....there are sometimes I can't, but God knows what my heart cries for....I find peace.  It can be easy to get lost in the quagmire of grief and push everyone away because you don't want to be left again.  Strange paradox, that. An unhealthy one.

So, let's pray for each other.  Pray for those who are going through their grief now and for those who will go through grief in the future, because all humans face it one way or another.  Pray that we become good examples of the love and strength of God to those who have no hope of seeing their loved ones in the future.  Pray that we remember that we have hope and all is not lost!  Pray that we see the good in every day and enjoy the people who are still here.  Pray that we forgive each other when we fail and love each other in our weaknesses.  Let's be kind to each other and when we mess up and act in an unkind way, let's ask forgiveness and give forgiveness and get on with life!

Live, love, breathe, keep going, laugh, carry on.  Live long and prosper. :)
Be blessed!

Apple Praline Bread recipe from Kim's Healthy Friends Facebook page

Nothing like bread...especially Apple bread...baking in the oven on a winters day. The house smells wonderful! And this bread is to die for!

SHARE THIS TO KEEP IT!! It is a KEEPER!!!! So tasty!

Apple Praline Bread

Ingredients:
1 cup sour cream
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups Granny Smith apples, peeled and finely chopped
1 cup nuts (walnut or pecan or a combo), divided

For the praline sauce:
¼ cup brown sugar and ¼ cup butter

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease a 9 x 5 x 3 inch loaf pan. Set aside. (I used stoneware loaf pan for perfect cooking)

Using an electric mixer, beat together the sour cream, sugar, eggs and vanilla on low speed for a couple of minutes until well blended. Stop the mixer and then add in the flour, leavening agents and salt. Continue to beat on low until well combined.

Fold in the apples and half the nuts into the batter. Transfer the batter into the greased loaf pan.
Sprinkle the rest of the nuts on top and then press them lightly into the batter. Bake for about 60 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Cool in the loaf pan for about 20-30 minutes and then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely. So it doesn't get too dark, I suggest using a light colored loaf pan.

For the praline sauce:

In a small sauce pan, place the butter and brown sugar. Using medium heat, bring to a boil. Lower the heat and then simmer lightly for about one minute, stirring constantly until the sauce thickens. Remove from heat and then drizzle over the bread. Cool completely.


https://www.facebook.com/groups/KimsHealthyFriends/

Time is a strange thing.

It's amazing to think that kids who are in 7th and maybe 8th grade now weren't even born yet when Al Qaeda attacked us on 9-11-2001.  It seems impossible.

Someday when they learn about it(they will, won't they??), they'll think you are REALLY OLD because you remember it well!  : ) 

That's the reaction I get from younger folks when I talk about integration, the race riots and assassinations of the 1960's, and the Vietnam war and POW's, the first time man walked on the moon! 'Wow, you remember that?' Yeah.  And, I remember when there were no cell phones, when I learned computer programming on a computer that filled a whole room!, black and white TV's, having to get up and change channels!  yeah, I remember a lot of things. :)  But, it wasn't so long ago...

 Time is weird in that a day can seem so long, but a lifetime can go by so quickly!

Girl just wants to have fun.

Well, I'm awake again tonight when I'd rather be sleeping.  Reflux is the culprit this time.  Went to bed early at 9:30, woke up with reflux at 10:30, so here I am again.  Thinking.  Writing.  I've been told I think too much.  I do.  It kind of runs in my family!  But, I do think too much, don't know how to stop thinking except to be a drunk or a druggie and those aren't options for me.  Addiction reared it's ugly head in my father's life and has affected the rest of us for all of these years.  Nope, not for me.  But, I do have my issues...as you have well seen if you've read any of my posts!  The 'issue' I'm focused on tonight in my sleepless state is that I don't know how to have fun!  Well..there are times when I have fun, that's true, and I'm so thankful for those times....like when I'm watching my kids or grandkids play or tease each other, or when I used to have game nights with my friends.  I've had lots of fun at times.  But, here's what I'm thinking about tonight, it's the times when I SHOULD be having fun and enjoying things, that I feel most stressed!  Let me give you an example:
Thanksgiving!  I LOVE that holiday, but it is one of the most stressful days of the year and I don't want it to be!  If I'm cooking, I want everything to go well, I want the food to all be ready at the same time and hot at the same time and everyone at the table at the same time.  I have let the lack of any one of those components ruin the entire day!  That's foolish!  I should be enjoying the comeraderie, the family!  But, I can't seem to! My mind can only focus on one thing at a time.  Urg, I hate that!

I think the old TV show, Leave It To Beaver, really messed me up!!  I thought that's how a "real" family acted.  I thought everything should be perfect like that show portrayed!  No one got terribly upset, the mommy always was dressed up, even with pearls, while she cooked and cleaned the house,  there was a calm, cool dad always around.  When my childhood wasn't like that ...at all.  And, then when my own house full of kids and a husband working three jobs, didn't portray that perfection...well, I felt like a failure!  I was 'responsible' for the perfection and couldn't pull it off! I thought life SHOULD all be happiness and peace, joy and contentment, the bills all paid, food on the table, the house spotless, the kids perfectly clean and perfect little angels, never a quarrel.  I fell victim to that false reality and blamed myself for being such an awful housekeeper and mother.  I should have been perfect like June Cleaver!  Well, that was foolish.

I wish we'd had Everybody Loves Raymond back then or The Middle. :)  They're a little bit more realistic.....but, then you do have the Osbornes(sp?) or the Kardashians!  Sheesh!  No, I don't watch those and don't want to model my life after them!  I'd LOVE to be the Psalms 31 woman, but I'm not her either.  I feel responsible for everyone being okay and everyone having fun, and everything being perfect.  It's tiring, foolish, and a waste of energy!  I'm just me, a perfect mess. Thank God that He loves messes! But, I would like to start easing up and learn how to have fun again.  As a child, I LOVED to have fun and laugh, run and play!

NOW, back to what I'm thinking about tonight: the cruise Mark and I are taking for our anniversary.  I'm afraid I'll ruin it!!  Want to know how??  By hurrying and thinking I need to be DOING something every minute!  "Mark, we have to hurry, we're going to miss the performance!"  "Mark, we need to move it if we're going to get to the restaurant in time!"  "Mark, look at that whole family having so much fun!Wish ours were all here and could have so much fun with us!"   "Mark, I look awful! I'm too fat! Aren't you ashamed to be seen with me?"  "I can't get into the pool looking like this!"   Get the picture?  UGH! I don't want to do that!  I vow NOT to do that!  This requires a full turn around from my stressful thoughts.  My stress usually comes from negative thinking and from that overwhelming sense of responsibility. With God's help, I can begin new thought patterns, even at my age.  I can let go of the feeling that I have to (or even can) control everything.

Our cruise ship: The Allure of The Seas

So, I'm up tonight praying that I let all of the stress, the burden of being 'responsible', go and relax with my husband, going at OUR pace, and having fun together....not worrying what anyone else is doing or how quickly or beautifully they're doing it. :)  We deserve, especially my hard-working husband deserves, to relax and enjoy our first cruise, to be at peace, to have fun, to eat, and to be free for one full week to do whatever we want to do, to enjoy celebrating our 40 years together.  I will start it with a smile, I'll carry that smile through our activities, and I'll end it with a smile.  I will have fun.  And, if I'm having fun, Mark will, too.

Lord, thank You for your mercy and goodness to us and for this opportunity to go on a cruise for the first time in our lives.  Help us to be good examples of your grace and love and to be at peace, enjoying the lives you've given us. Please help us to make the most of the years, days, and moments we have left on this earth.  Thank you for blessing our babies so much!  We love and appreciate You!

Fun in 'The Village'

Updated a lot! Used to have flat roofs, red brick, no porches

I had a good childhood, all in all.  Mama, my brother, two sisters and I lived in Baton Rouge for much of my childhood.  We lived in a place we all called 'The Village'.  It was government subsidized housing, all duplexes.  Each section had a long sidewalk with six sets of duplexes, three sets on each side of the long sidewalk...then shorter sidewalks to each set of duplexes.  My friend, Little Judy, lived in the duplex next to ours.  She was called Little Judy because my sister was also named Judy and was older than the other Judy.  Little Judy didn't have a very good home life from what I can remember, but she was a really good friend.

I am the youngest of four children so while my brother and sisters were off playing softball at the playground or chasing members of the opposite sex, I was playing with my babydolls and paper dolls.  One year for Christmas I got little boxes of real, dry baby cereal to feed to my dolly!  Little Judy and I sat in the shade of the duplex(it's HOT in Louisiana in the summertime..and sometimes at Christmas time, too!) mixed up that cereal with water and made a grand attempt to feed our dollies.  We had a wonderful, messy time!

Our duplex was right next to a wooded area so some of us younger kids would go out under the cool trees and make houses out of the leaves.  We'd push together the leaves in thick lines that would be the outline of the walls of our various rooms of the house.  No leaves meant that was a doorway. :)  We had so much fun doing that!  Right next to our little shady play area, our neighbor's brother, kind of a strange, skinny guy who never talked to anybody, had a peanut roaster.  It was a round, barrel like gadget with holes all in it and a handle on the side.  It was over a fire or burner of some kind(I don't remember) and he would turn the handle so the peanuts wouldn't burn. Now that was one yummy aroma - fresh roasted peanuts! Makes my stomach growl thinking about it.  I think he charged 5 cents a bag, but I'm not sure that's right. We bought a bag or two through the years.

There was a tether ball pole set up on the long side walk and we spent hours there trying to beat each other.  My brother and sisters liked playing that with me because they could hit it over my head. :/   Jackwagons.  One of my most favorite activities was playing on the swingset!  Our duplex backed up to the playground and these swingsets were awesome!  They were super tall metal sets with the best swings in the world!  The chains were strong and long and the seats seemed so wide to me then....not so much now, I'm sure!   In Louisiana the grass grows thick and green, no need for fertilizer.  It's everywhere!  Except under our swings.  If I were a painter, I'd paint that little oval patch of dirt under my feet when I sat on my swing.  If I/we hadn't swung on it so much, the grass would have just grown right over it and covered it up!  But, we used that swing everyday as often as possible.  So peaceful, going back and forth as high as I could go, with the wind brushing my blonde curls off my face.  I felt so free in that swing!  Loved it.  Still love to swing if I can find one with a big enough seat!

Another fond memory I have of my rascally siblings is when I received a new bicycle for Christmas.  This one was a big one with no training wheels on it.  I felt so afraid up there!  I was probably seven years old, my sibs were probably 14, 15, and 17 years old.  So they were "kind" enough to teach me how to ride the bike.  They propped me up on it and told me to pedal as they pushed me.  Once I got pedaling good, they let go.  I did pretty well, pedaling around in circles in the grass.  But, after about 15 circles, I was done, ready to get off the big bike.  So, I said, "How do I stop?"  To which they replied....oh, that's right, they didn't reply!  They just giggled and laughed.  They laughed.  I'm going round and round in circles, feeling like my legs are gonna fall off and they laugh!  Not one of them would tell me how to stop that stupid bicycle!  But, I did figure it out for myself....all you have to do is fall over. :/  Yep, jackwagons.  I'm so glad I gave them so much joy that day. NOT.  LOL

They were rotten, but they were also good to me and loved their baby sister...for the most part.  They read my books to me so often that I had them memorized.  I'd just turn the pages and say the words.  They taught me to put on plays for our mama.  Cheap entertainment and so much fun.  We had shaving cream fights and water melon rind fights and water hose fights and gum ball fights.  Not the gum you chew, but the seed pods that grew off what we called gum ball trees....they are round, bumpy, and stickery.  Ouch! They hurt when thrown at you!

We would always tell the story of how Mr. Fluff, Phyllis's persian cat, went through the window fan when it was running and didn't even get hurt!!  We'd also all get scared at night if we watched an episode of Twilight Zone, I think I was about 11 when we got our first TV, black and white!  Before that we'd all go down to Ms. Stevie's house and watch her TV.   Back to the Twilight Zone,  First Judy would start screaming, then Phyllis, then me! I didn't know what we were screaming about, but it was scary!  Mama finally put a stop to the Twilight Zone, she couldn't take the midnight excitement!

I have to tell you about another funny time with our mother.  Actually, all of the older ones had grown and moved out.  Mama and I had moved out of the Village by then and lived in a one bedroom cement block house.  Mama was getting ready for work one morning and was really tired.  She got dressed, fixed her face and brushed her hair.  Then she closed her eyes for the hairspray she always used.  When she opened her eyes, she was shocked and appalled to find that her entire hairdo was covered in a thick layer of white foam!! HAHA!! When she closed her eyes, she had picked up the can of Dow bathroom cleaner instead of hairspray!!! HAHA!! I'll never, ever forget that!  Bless her heart, she had to rinse it out the best she could and get a run on to catch the bus! She came out of there with stringy, wet hair and I KNOW she didn't like that!  Mama never left the house without looking her best.   That was a day she laughed about often, too.  :)  The good old days.

What fun it is to visit those days, good memories are a blessing! Thank you, Lord.