I Voted Yesterday!

Daffodils delight my eyes as I drive into Katherine’s. More and more lawns are beginning to dazzle us with the early flowering trees. Soon the native roadside trees will start to bloom—the red bud and dog wood. But if past Marches are repeated, we could still have a blizzard before then! So I am grateful for this early spring and love it that I have seldom had to wear a winter coat. A jacket will do, and sometimes I do not even need the jacket. (The winter coat may still be needed, of course.)

I am tired of all the political disarray, but I am learning a bit about issues. I had to google TPP to even know what was being discussed in one recent debate. I am grateful for intelligent discussion of what we need to know and make decisions about as a nation. I strongly prefer the town halls to the form of debate that the media presents. Not much can be explained in one or two minutes.

I skipped going to my rehab appointment yesterday to make sure Katherine was able to vote. She started weeks ago making the effort to get an absentee ballot. I walked in one late afternoon and found she had been tied up with the courthouse phone, which would not allow her to dial the needed extension nor to get off since she has to use her voice rather than her fingers. An aide helped her later to get that phone call accomplished. But instead of an absentee ballot, she received an application for such a ballot. (She did not remember it being that way in the past.) Well, the absentee ballot had to be signed—even though she can no longer write. I offered to help her, but she has an aide who is good at that, so she said Connie would do so. I thought maybe she had Connie put it in the mail, but I should have checked earlier and taken it to the courthouse, which I finally did last Thursday. (Actually it was taken to the beautiful new administration building beside the courthouse. I had never been in it before, and I was impressed. I appreciated the wide parking spaces!)

So I turned in the application, but I could not be given the absentee ballot. Legally, I was told, the ballot had to go through the mail to Katherine. Suddenly we were up against time pressure, as I was also told it had to be turned in yesterday. I checked the mail on Saturday, but it did not come. Yesterday, I waited till the mail arrived and the ballot was there! The little ovals had to be filled with a felt tip marker, and in the third room I looked in, I fortunately found one.

But then the two envelopes had to be signed by the voter. There was no provision for someone to put an X or to let an aide sign for them! Do not ask me why this is not provided for people with handicaps who cannot write. Well, after approximately 15 minutes on each “signature,” we had done the best the two of us working together could do. If you saw our efforts, you would understand why I put signature in quotation marks. I printed my name and address and then signed where I had to as someone assisting the voter. I rushed the ballot enclosed in the two proper envelopes to the clerk’s office. When I took the application for the ballot last Thursday, I noticed the big sign out front and realized people were voting. So yesterday while I was there anyway, I asked if I could vote. And I did in one of the curtained booths there is the public area; then I lined up with others who were finished to push my ballot through the recording machine.

They were several people there the entire time I was, and the workers were obviously very busy helping us and helping those coming in for supplies for today’s voting sites throughout the county. As busy as they were, the workers were all kind and helpful. The atmosphere created by the voters was equally friendly and pleasant. It made me so proud and grateful to be an American. I was so pleased for the opportunity to safely express my opinion in the voting booth. I was grateful not to have to stand in a long line as many have to do.

Gerald has just now returned from voting at our usual voting place, and now we are going to listen together to a softball game. God bless America, and may America bless God.

Softball and Spring

Since February, many of the conversations around here have been about University of Georgia’s softball games.  We are again having meals in front of game tracker on the computer in Gerald’s office, and already Gerald and his nephew DuWayne have had two trips to see UGA play.  They attended the first opening tourney at Athens, and then last weekend enlisted Sam, who was on spring break, to go with them to games at Auburn University in Alabama.   The weather there was warm and beautiful, and three wins made the outing quite a success.  The many homeruns confirmed the team’s improved batting, and everyone came home happy.

Little Payton, our youngest great grandchild, had chosen to come along with his Gma Vickie while his two older brothers elected to stay home in Athens under their dad’s watch care.  So Payton’s unexpected presence was another plus adding to Sam and Gerald’s weekend enjoyment.  Come to find out, Vickie’s mother (Gma Shirley) had caught a ride down to Athens with her son who was going through, so she was at Athens too and able to attend church with Bryan and the older boys, Aidan and Maddux.  So I know those two little guys had plenty of adoring attention also.

A few weeks ago I was thrilled, as I am each year, to see the crocus coming up beside Katherine’s  front sidewalk from bulbs she had planted in healthier and happier years.  Since it was still winter, the snow came, and I assumed the yellow buds beneath the snow were destroyed.  Happily, after the snow melted, there the sturdy blooms were fully opened and more vibrant than ever.  A second snow covered them, and I thought that might be their demise, but the second melt left them still lovely proclaiming that spring was around the corner.  At that time I was also watching and enjoying the  flowering of roadside daffodils, which had come up in their annual abundance before the second snow.  They too continued to thrive after the melt.  Since then, Katherine’s precious miniature daffodils have joined the crocus and their bigger relatives beside the lamp post and sidewalk to welcome in spring today.

Gerald wanted me to go along to Auburn since I suspect he knows it may be harder each year for us to travel to see Geri Ann play college ball. However, I knew we only had day-time hours covered for Katherine’s care, so I did not consider going.

I went out the Thursday afternoon before they left knowing that the young woman who comes for that night (and two other nights a week) had been having car trouble after her car accident and probably would not make it. (She thought she had her car fixed with a new part she bought, and she made it one night the previous week before the car broke down again.)  An older college student, she had been coming three nights a week for some time.  She was pleasant company and faithfully there to lift and adjust Katherine as needed. Then after the part did not solve the car problem, the car was in the shop for a couple of days. Then it still would not run.  So there had been frantic last minute phone calls from her area town about catching a late-night taxi or getting a friend to bring her before the friend went to work.  But the negative results of those calls made me expect that she would not to be there that night either, so I was prepared to spend the night.

Although the Friday, Saturday, and Sunday day-time care giver had had to transport someone to Chicago the previous weekend (an assignment from her regular job), she was scheduled to be there those three days, and I knew she was quite competent.  My plan was to try to get night time care arranged for those same days, but if that did not work out, I knew I would be rested to fill in.   So when I finally saw Katherine arranged comfortably in bed  that Thursday night (long after midnight), I  knew the day worker would relieve  me at 8 the next morning when DuWayne was meeting up at the farm with Gerald and Sam, who had spent the night there, and they were leaving for Auburn.  

I would go home to an empty house with plenty of time to rest and try to enlist more help.
What I did not expect was the early morning phone call from the day worker trying to explain through pain and tears that she had a tooth break off in her sleep and must go to the dentist that very morning.  Or at least I thought that was what she was telling me with her garbled speech and my hearing aids not on.   Next came two or three text messages, since she could not talk, apologizing for crying because of the terrible pain.  I assumed she would get taken care of and be there the next two mornings.  Katherine had a long-time employee who now is back in school and just comes every Friday afternoon for four hours and helps her with paper work and whatever is needed. So after I spent the unexpected morning there, I hurried to the farm for fresh clothes and a breather before the night.  There was no time to try to find a brand new night worker for the weekend.  But I figured that was okay as the tooth problem would be solved and that aide would be able to show up Saturday morning.

By that night, however, she was in the hospital for over night as a result of the tooth, which was absessed and poisoned her system or something.  A text said she’d be out on Saturday. Evidently the whole episode was even more serious than I thought because she was not able to come in on Sunday either.  Her cousin, who was supposed to work over night Sunday to replace the girl with car trouble, was suddenly called in to fill he place of the tooth-troubled aide at the group home where she works.   But at least I knew Monday morning was covered by a most reliable employee and the afternoon by another extremely reliable worker.  It is usually two or three in the morning before Katherine is adjusted to be able to sleep, but she made a point  of not calling for me, as she had also kindly done the night before, and I got several hours of steady sleep before the Monday morning sunshine work me up. The cheerful morning worker, who is dealing with her husband’s recovery from surgery last week, arrived at exactly 7:20 all smiles with every hair in place.   I stayed to help her for a couple of hours when suddenly her phone rang telling of a death in their family.  Since her husband has breathing problems and was taking the death hard, she phoned their nearby grandson to go stay with her husband.

I knew she might have to leave early, but the afternoon worker is just as experienced and dependable so I felt comfortable leaving.  Katherine urged me to go home and get some rest.  What she did not know was I was scheduled to host the monthly women’s meeting from our church that night.  Leaders had said I did not need to fulfill my turn to open my house for the meeting, but I did not think it would be a problem since I did not know all these various cancellations would occur.  I haven’t been able to attend many of these meetings this year, and I thought it would do me good to be involved with a happy gathering. So after checking with the one to give the devotional that night, I wanted to have my turn at my house and had it announced.  

Since I could not decide if I wanted to fix ham salad sandwiches or chicken salad, I had already decided that I would put out various kinds of bread and let everyone make their own sandwich.  (I have made my own chicken salad a few times in my life, but now I am inclined to purchase it at the local warehouse store; and if I want to make it more personal, maybe I cut up some grapes in it.  I also have another store where I like to buy ham salad.)
I had made a couple of  angel food cakes without icing  when it was my turn to help with refreshments at Women’s Club in February, so I thought I’d do that again for these friends.  That was an interesting experience because one of the three of us to do refreshments had phoned and said she had napkins and everything bought and had the recipe and planned to make red velvet cake. I haven’t been able to attend but one previous meeting this year, so I said let me make an angel food cake for any diabetics present and also make a red punch to fit in with the Valentine theme.  She assured me I did not need to do that, but agreed I could.  The day before that meeting, she phoned with the awful news that her sister’s 45-year-old son had dropped dead of a heart attack totally unexpected and, of course, she must go to Kentucky to be with her sister. But, she said, the third member of our committee was back in town and she had taken supplies to her house and commissioned her to buy some sweet little red velvet cupcakes at the warehouse store instead of her homemade one.  That sounded like a fine plan to me. 
  
For many years if I make an angel food cake (from a mix), I have always made a second one at the same time—hardly any extra trouble.   I might send the extra one home with granddaughter Brianna, who likes them, or take it to a shut-in or freeze the extra. So that is what I did that morning, but then I debated whether it would be silly or not to carry in the extra cake with the punch bowl, ice ring, etc. that I needed to carry in to the library meeting room.   The angel cake was supposed to just supplement the red velvet cupcakes.  Fortunately, I decided to take both cakes. 

I went plenty early to set up, and there I learned that although the napkins, candies, and tablecloth were brought by the president, the cupcakes (main refreshment) were not there because that committee member had to go to the hospital the night before. Whew!  I knew we now needed two cakes, and I had them in the room.  We had a wonderful program with three speakers, and as usual, they were first on the agenda so they could leave before the business meeting if they chose to do so.  And as usual, they were invited by the president to help themselves to the refreshment table as they exited.  When one man gratefully said, “Oh, I will take an extra piece for my landlady,” I knew my decision to carry in two cakes was the right one.  
 
The elderly ladies (my age group are the young members!!) were most kind and seemed to really enjoy the freshly baked un-iced angel food. The tall white cake on a lovely white pedestal cake plate that author Hua-ling Hu had given me looked very pretty on the red tablecloth.  So I bought two more cake mixes planning to repeat that success at my house with my church friends.

I digress.  Back to this week’s  situation—although I had spent an unplanned night away from home, I still had  a day to prepare for the Monday night meeting—picking up all the clutter of reading material I’d left in the living room and the dirty dishes I had left Friday afternoon when I expected to be back home the next morning.  In the meantime, Gerald, DuWayne, and Sam had returned to the farm after midnight Sunday, and of course there was stuff carried in from their trip. 

When I left Katherine’s that morning, I knew I needed to pick up the chicken and ham salads at two different stores, but I would have time that afternoon to whip up the angel food cakes because they are so easy to make.  I already had the breads, chips, party napkins, and pretty candies in spring colors—even some yellow Peeps.  I decided the most important thing I could do that morning was to get a much needed hair cut and shampoo, so I went to the beauty shop and gratefully saw my favorite beautician, who always makes me feel like a new person.  I was so pleased that finally I was getting that respite and relief from hair in my face, and I relaxed.

 I am not sure who called first, but the afternoon worker phoned to say she had stomach flu, and the morning worker had heard from her grandson that her husband was not doing well and she better leave even earlier than planned. (She is so fine an aide that I was amazed at all she accomplished while she was there.) I rushed on to the stores for the sandwich spreads and picked up some pretty springtime looking miniature cupcakes and some of those red velvet ones I’d been told about.  Oh, and some yummy chocolate cookie-candy type treats in a tray that I could put directly on the buffet.  Since I would need to take the place the afternoon worker, the angel food cakes would have to wait for another time.  I had not really had a relaxed meal since I was home Friday afternoon, so after I picked up the ham salad, I decided I would stop at a close by local eatery that serves good breakfasts.  Unfortunately it was now eleven, and they quit serving breakfast at l0:30. They are also famous for their barbecue, so I ordered a sandwich and fries to go with my coffee—something I miss most at Katherine’s house.  After I saw an enticing list of pies on their blackboard (another thing they are famous for), I added a piece of raisin pie as an after thought. 

Well fueled, I left to go back to Katherine’s.  A friend and husband had come in, so as I left I stopped at their table and asked if she’d be at my house that night.  She suggested that I simply cancel, but since I had been told for certain the night worker was coming at 7, I knew it would much easier to have the meeting than to find time to make phone calls to cancel. 

I got home after five and loaded the dish washer and bathed and put on clean clothes.  Gerald helped me get down the punch bowl and serving plates.  I stirred up a punch and had an ice ring left from the Women’s Club meeting, and I fixed a pitcher of ice water.   I can honestly say I experienced  very little stress because I knew the church friends would pitch in and help me and completely understand anything I failed to get done—one of which was the clutter of reading material.  Sure enough, our pastor’s wife arrived early to help and soon another friend showed up, and the three of us had things pretty much organized by the time the others arrived at 6:30.  I pushed the button on the coffee pot, so we could smell it brewing during our meeting.  Jeannie had given us a special Freeport Blend from one of their local coffee shops, and I had deliberately saved it for this meeting. 

At the last minute, our president Kim Barger made her first public appearance since her very painful shoulder surgery—her husband brought her since she still cannot drive.  She could not play the piano for us either, but Charlene Morris led us as we sang a cappella  The hymns were unusually beautiful that way.  (I thought of our friend Loretta White, who now lives in South Carolina, who always loved our singing.)  After our devotional by Deanna Odom and a business meeting, the dozen of us in attendance moved to the kitchen and dining room area.  (My earlier helpers were there to put the last-minute things from the fridge to the buffet.) Soon the room was filled with conversations and laughter, and I knew my decision to go on with the meeting was the right one. It did do me good just as I thought it would. There were lots of hugs and loving things said as we parted, and I slept very well with the dish washer humming again.

Last evening I felt things were in good shape when I left Katherine’s, and good help was to be there today, so I felt no need to go in. Today I mostly piddled and rested. The first day of spring looked warm out the windows. However, when I went out to share table scraps with Jake (that is why he likes me), I felt how biting the wind was.  Today’s UGA softball game at home in Athens was on video as well as game tracker, so we enjoyed seeing our son and granddaughters Tara and Geri Ann as we watched on the computer.  Gerry and Tara were wearing warm coats and the trees were swaying around the ball field, so I know they were having a windy day too. Since the game ended mercifully at five innings (14-0 in UGA’s favor) Gerald and I were able to eat supper afterwards upstairs in the kitchen—dining on sandwiches from the spreads left over from Monday’s party.  

I did regret that I did not have time to stop and pick daffodils from the roadside for the tables Monday as that is a springtime tradition I have. But I will enjoy them tomorrow as I drive to town  and may find time to pick a bouquet yet someday.

Pot Roasts, Laundry, and the First Daffodils

Returning from taking in a roast and veggies to Katherine’s family, I got a phone call from Gerald who had been trying to reach me on my cell phone. He said our granddaughter Erin was coming over and wanted to take us out to supper, but he told her just to stop by and bring a pizza out to the farm as he figured I’d be tired just getting back from town.

“Oh, but I’ve got a roast with potatoes and carrots waiting for us in the oven,” I exclaimed. (I’d just made two pot roasts at once in the oven, had transferred one to the crock pot to plug in at the Cedar house so they could eat whenever it was convenient for them, and the other was waiting in the oven for our supper.) So Gerald said he’d call Erin to skip bringing out the pizza. The prospect of Erin’s supper visit brightened my drive home.

Gerald was long gone when I woke up this morning as he headed down to our home territory in Union County to celebrate his brother Garry’s birthday with breakfast at Ginger’s favorite restaurant at Jonesboro. (Garry is conscientious to take her out to breakfast since this is her best meal to consume before she tires later in the day.) Their brother Keith was meeting them there too, of course.
I did not really expect Gerald back for lunch as I knew he and Garry would have a lot of visiting to do. So I planned the roast for supper although usually we eat our main meal at noon and just have soup and a sandwich or something simple in the evening. I figured if he came back by lunch time, we’d have our sandwich at noon. As it turned out, he pulled into our garage this afternoon just as I was preparing to leave for town to go get Sam from his trombone lesson, so we had had very little communication today. It was lovely to have a leisurely supper with him and Erin to catch up on the day’s events.

I encourage our grandkids to bring their laundry when they visit since we are fortunate enough to have a washer/drier on both floors and they can finish quickly. This happened accidentally. When we built this house with a full walkout basement and its two bedrooms there, the plans were for a laundry downstairs on one end of my office, which backs up to the downstairs bathroom and the plumbing there. I figured if we sold the house at sometime in the future, another person might want to use the room for a sewing or craft room and the laundry would be convenient for that person too.

Our building contractor had insisted I needed a laundry shoot in the bottom of the upstairs bathroom vanity directly over my office, so I would not have to carry dirty clothes down. This made sense and I figured he was right, so I told him to go ahead.

I was leery of this because of very young grandkids. When we moved in, I proceeded to cover it up with a stainless steel tray I bought at Salvation Army for this purpose and put supplies there to conceal the tray. My fear came from Mary Ellen’s story of driving in Grinnell one day and hearing the story of the firemen at her friend’s house where the daughter and a visiting girl friend decided to travel down their laundry shoot—and she got stuck inside. I have used the shoot a few times and am glad it is there I’m also glad it is covered up so that now ten years later I don’t have to worry about great grandkids taking an adventure that would drop them down on the concrete floor that the carpet would not do much to soften.

As it turned out, the people buying our farm house had their own much newer washer/drier and did not want ours left behind. So we moved the machines over the half mile to this house and hooked them up in the garage on the upstairs ground level floor. With all going on with settling into a new house, the new downstairs washer and drier were not hooked up for several months. By then, I realized how convenient having the washer/drier in the garage right by the kitchen was.

After we did get the new washer/drier operating, I did not want to change my habits although I was very grateful for the convenience of doing sheets and towels there from the bath and two downstairs bedrooms there. During the two summers we had family living with us in the downstairs and during the many vacation and holiday visits, having two sets of laundry equipment has been a boon for all of us although I would not have thought to plan for that convenience.

So tonight after supper, Erin was running up and down the stairs keeping the machines running and resting on the couch reading a book between loads. Gerald and I both enjoyed her presence, and we both fell asleep while we were reading, which is pretty typical of our evenings. We woke before she loaded her car down with clean laundry telling her we’d see her at the Saluki softball games on Saturday.

Yesterday when I drove to town for a friend's funeral, I imagined that instead of the dull roadside soon I’d be seeing the large patch of daffodils that I enjoy each spring. Today I did not have to imagine. The first ones were up waving their yellow heads at me as I passed. They will be joined by a host of others and that area between the road and the woods will be a brilliant yellow in another week or so.

I also noticed yesterday that Katherine’s crocus by the front lamp pole were peeking yellow heads up from their winter’s sleep. She sent me out with a tiny vase today, and with Sam’s help I picked the first three to brighten their family room with a promise of more blooms to come from the many flowers Katherine planted when she was still able to garden.

It is too early for winter to be over, but these first glimpses of the coming spring are refreshing our spirits and lightening our moods.

Spring Has Sprung

As I drove to town this morning through the countryside to Katherine’s, everywhere I looked at people’s lawns and the roadside, bright and sunny daffodils were welcoming spring.

Across from the large roadside expanse of golden daffodils that I especially love because it has been there for decades and always come up earlier than others, there is a tiny ancient cemetery. Someone has cleaned it in recent years. I don’t know if family members or strangers are now mowing and keeping this burial place pristine. I’ve never stopped at this tiny cemetery because it seems so private although there is a little driveway in, and maybe someday I will stop and view the few tombstones there and admire the caretaker’s work. Today one grave was completely covered with the cheerful daffodil blooms that symbolize so well the renewal of hope and joy after the cold of winter.

Weather was beautiful today. Frantically Gerald and I helped Katherine get ready for the hospital van, which came 45 minutes earlier than we expected. Evidently the time for the
Tysabri infusion at the hospital was misunderstood by either Kate or the van driver. So it was a wonderful relief as she wheeled outside the door towards the van and she asked if she would need a wrap to tell her that she would be fine without a sweater or coat.

I had already told her as she brushed her hair to try to catch a glimpse in her yard of her new daffodils that had started blooming since yesterday. Her plants are unusually healthy and pretty—actually four different kinds of daffodils. Today’s new ones are bi-colored with a slightly orange center and a simpler one that is just plain yellow. Yesterday the lovely large pale yellow ones at the end of their house were showing their stuff, and my favorites—the miniature ones under the light post—were waving at me in the breeze. I picked three of each and placed in her vases so she could enjoy them inside the house.

After helping Katherine out of bed since it was her morning aide’s day off, Gerald went on home to continue his work on the softball tees he is building to carry down to the Georgia Dogs this weekend at Lexington. (I stayed in town for several errands after having a cup of soup at Honeybakers, my favorite lunch spot.) Gerald did take time off to listen to today’s ball game (we lost) and then went back to the shop. He finally managed to make himself quit when he smeared the end of a finger with the grinder. The nasty cold that started last Thursday put him way behind on this project.

He still is not recovered from his cold, but is much better than the weekend and on his birthday Monday and even yesterday. The only celebration I could think of that he was up to on Monday was bringing home salads and chicken pot pies from Bob Evans for our evening meal. He had to cancel the traditional breakfast with his brothers that day, but they are planning to meet in the morning.

I am sure there will soon be another breakfast or two soon when their only sister Ernestine and our niece Leah come and bring our great niece Emerson Leigh to meet her Illinois relatives. Ernestine has a high school reunion to attend, but we are all focused on meeting baby Emmie. (Emmie or Emie or Emmy—not sure how they spell that diminutive.) Katherine is hoping today’s infusion will help her be able to attend some of those family celebrations where Emmie will be our star. We feel like we already know her from her pictures and Ernestine’s descriptions.

Sam’s trombone lesson was cancelled today, but he went with me to Small’s (a locally run store that has a good meat market and deli) to pick up some barbecued pork steak he likes and other sides for our suppers. With his classic rock station still playing, I drove home to Woodsong, where our double daffodils, which have had buds for weeks, are finally showing a bloom or two beside the patio. Gerald’s bulb garden had a single daffodil and hyacinth in bloom that I don’t think were there when I left the farm. I must go out and enjoy the fragrance of hyacinth in the morning.

My First Corned Beef

Although I always want to be Irish on Saint Patrick’s Day, I am not and I don’t usually celebrate. Oh, I always wear green, and I made sure my kids had something green to wear, so they would not be pinched or have their foot stomped on. But that was about all the celebrating we did. I started wondering about this pinching/stomping tradition this week. Is this just something that is done in our area, or is it universal among school children?

However, I not only wore green this year, I cooked my first corned beef. I bought two from Kroger with the spice packages wrapped inside and directions for cooking on the outside of the plastic wrapper. I had decided to serve corned beef sandwiches to the church women who were coming to our house on Monday night.

A group of volunteers were having a fund raiser up at West Frankfort today and one of the names and phone numbers given for the event was a writer friend I had lost contact with. I phoned Kay and asked her for serving advice. In addition to the flax bread I love and had planned to serve, I found out I needed to offer rye bread and Swiss cheese and even sauerkraut could be available. I ran out of time and decided to forgo the sauerkraut, which I was somewhat uneasy might smell up the kitchen.

I fixed a large relish plate of green items with only bright red pepper slices in the middle to give a mite of color. I made pea salad, lime punch, and used a special Irish coffee packet I had been given for Christmas in addition to making a decaf pot. Chips and candies. Angel food cakes, with and without icing (icing colored green, of course), lime sherbet, and green grapes were offered for dessert.

Mary Ellen had given me beautiful green place mats two or three years ago as well as two new sets of Christmas tablecloths at the same time. With so many choices at Christmas, I had not yet used the emerald place mats, and they really brightened up the yellow cloth which I have used throughout the years since Gerry and Vickie’s wedding rehearsal dinner 30 years ago!

In fact, I looked through the house and found every green dish or vase or candle available, and green took over the environment. I had bought three beautiful candles for 25 cents apiece at the Carbondale mall in the Christmas season’s leftovers. So they decked the dining room table sitting in a dish I bought from Salvation Army to hold them. Yes, I did have a lovely vase of daffodils in the living room. If you read my last blog, you know where they came from.

After singing and prayer requests for friends and loved ones, Deana Odom gave a devotional. In our business meeting, spring plans were completed. We are preparing ten large buckets of carefully chosen food items to feed a family and then we will be tightly packing them. Someone in our area is to take them down to Haiti along with many other churches’ buckets.

Not so important but enjoyed by the children in our village as well as by visiting grandchildren will be our Easter egg hunt followed by lunch the day before Easter. I certainly enjoy not having to fix lunch that day for my gang since egg dying and other activities keep us busy. Then there will be the sunrise breakfast (I never make that) the next morning and finally our annual women’s banquet in May when we invite our friends and neighbors. The men serve our meal and clean up afterwards. Can’t beat that! We have fun decorating for it, and Jo Barger plans and executes the meal, which the men also enjoy after their serving work while we go upstairs for a program. I can’t imagine planning food for this large group every year, but Jo is more than capable. Our meal is always delicious.

Jo is one of the most knowledgeable food experts in our area and has a cook book to prove it. (I am sure she has been a valuable resource for her son’s popular Goreville restaurant.) She delights in serving family and friends at gatherings in her home or down in her special little backyard cabin with an old-fashioned cook stove to make biscuits and enormous old-fashioned breakfasts.

After all our plans were made and ready volunteers were quickly secured for every project, we moved to the kitchen/dining room to enjoy my efforts at green food. Better than the food was the visiting seasoned with laughter. There wasn’t much corned beef left over, but enough that Katherine’s family as well as Gerald and I were able to have a sandwich again today. I felt I made Saint Patrick proud this year.

Trounced But the Martins Have Returned

We rushed down to Gerald’s office right after a quick lunch in the kitchen after our morning church services. Gerald got the game coverage going for us. This afternoon's tie-breaker 3rd game in the series between Georgia and Alabama softball teams left much to be desired by us Bulldog fans. The final score of 13-4 hurt our pride, and losing two games out of three was not what we expected.

Gerald and I tried to take the bad taste out of our mouths by watching Gerald's slide show of his photographs of his and Leslie's trip to Texas. I noticed he did not have a single shot of Mike Bear, who showed up in many of Les's photos on Facebook. But I loved seeing Gerald’s photos of Bobby and Katherine Sanders' beautiful grandkids and seeing their resemblance to our late friend. Katherine was a natural beauty, and her daughter Regina and her five children carry on that beauty. Gerald had many great photos of Leslie, our blond beauty, as she enthusiastically enjoyed her first trip to Texas, and I especially liked those of her with Don and Helen Ruth Dillow. However, I admit Mike Bear having with breakfast with Don and Helen Ruth was funnier.

The crocuses are blooming at Katherine’s home, and I enjoyed them all week. I appreciated those flowers she planted with some of her last energy and physical ability. I saw my first robin there also. Gerald was excited this morning to see the martins beginning to line up on the overhead wire along our lane, which brings electricity to our homestead. Soon they will probably fill the wire down most of the lane. He realized that his first job in the morning will be to clean out the martin houses for these first scouts to check out.

As Leslie and I drove home from town through the country on Friday, I saw my first daffodils in blooms by the roadside. We have some here with buds but no blooms. This large roadside patch comes up early each spring, and I always day dream about the long-dead farm wife who must have planted them by a house which disappeared many decades ago. Their beauty is a legacy that we still enjoy when we drive by.

They are so profuse and the patch so large that I have never felt guilty when I have stopped my car and picked a few to brighten our table. Once when Katherine could not come home for Easter, I sent her a couple of them stuffed in an envelope. Maybe I will have time to run over tomorrow and pick a spring bouquet. One recent change, however, is the beautiful new house half hidden in the woods behind this patch. I don’t think these homeowners own this roadside patch, but I am not sure. Regardless, they might not appreciate my annual delight in this golden visual treat. On the other hand, maybe they would enjoy my enjoyment.