Tranquility on the Farm

Life has calmed down, and we are enjoying the in between season with summer winding down and cool days hinting of autumn almost here. Gerald is bringing in tomatoes, okra, cantaloupe, and watermelon from his garden—far more than we can eat with the company gone. So he is taking excess to friends and the soup kitchen.

At the beginning of last summer I filled the hummingbird feeders as usual, but after an unexpected several days in the hospital with blood clots, I could not keep up with preparing the sugar water and cleaning and sterilizing the feeders, so I gave it up. This spring I decided to not even start although I knew I would miss the busy little creatures. And I do.

However, that decision gave me one of my most delightful moments this summer. Sitting at the kitchen table and looking out the glass doors towards the lake, I observed a very large dragonfly sitting on the top of the wire hanger where the one of hummingbird feeders was supposed to be.

Seeing a dragonfly always carries me back in memory to the ones I loved at our small pond over the hill from our house at Mount Airy Farm, where we spent summers. This pond is where we swam and even took baths sometimes despite having muddy feet when we left the pond. The far side of the pond was edged with cattails, and the dragonflies flitted among them. I can almost be there again and smell the damp aroma of the sticky mud when I see a dragonfly.

The dragonfly visiting our deck was using the hanger as its post to catch its meal. It would sit perfectly still with its lovely wings spread out. Then it would dart off I assume to catch a gnat too small for me to see, and then return to rest again. I would pleasantly relax and rest with him as I waited for his next flight. I was mesmerized, and I am not sure how long the dragonfly and I shared this time together. I had hoped it would make it a habit to sit there, but I have not seen since.

Most of us in Southern Illinois always feel a surge of pleasure when we see deer despite the damage to crops and the danger on the road. Late at night as I come home from Katherine’s, it is not uncommon for a flock to be scared by my car lights as I come in our long driveway, and one by one they leave the lake running and cross in front of me heading into our neighbor’s field. I stop and hope the last slowpoke has crossed before I go on. My favorite sightings this summer included a single large buck running bedside the road at the edge of our son-in-law’s corn field and then the time that twin spotted fawns ran beside my car before turning into the woods there. Family members have seen triplet fawns in our fields, but I haven’t yet seen them. Nor have I seen the albino deer that our next door neighbor posted a photo of on Facebook. Two neighbors further away chimed in they had seen her, and I am keeping my eyes alert in hopes of a sighting.

Small pleasures are important mood elevators, and they are plentiful during this end-of-summer season.

Cousins Week

Cousins Week is officially over. Elijah just left Woodsong to see a friend in Madison, Wisconsin. He and Trent had gone down to Cadiz, Kentucky, last night to meet up with Lige’s sister Leslie, who drove up from Nashville. Brianna had left the day before to drive to Michigan to see a friend. Sam was up early this morning to go to work as he has been helping out with his high school’s annual band camp this week as well as being here at Woodsong enjoying Cousins Week. Despite the late night hours, Trent managed to make an A on his summer statistics exam Wednesday. Erin got in on Cousins Week by a fortunate schedule happening, and I was glad because she could give her younger cousins some good advice. And I think Sam’s friend Anna has been officially adopted by the group.

Back when I wrote about only one pair of tennis shoes in the front hall, Elijah had read that blog and hastened to tell me that I did not need to worry about their absence. The younger gang of cousins were already texting and planning on “Cousins Week” the first week of August after they finished summer activities and before they started school again. Unfortunately, Geri Ann is busy right now with a short summer term at Oregon and had already left Texas. Our youngest grandchild Cecelie was working full time this summer at the consignment store, so she could not come down join the college kids. I had to be proud of her!

Erin and Geri Ann had planned to come earlier in the summer, but the rained-out postponed softball camps foiled their plans. So Erin, at least, was finally getting to come up between workshops to prepare for next year’s teaching. For me, getting to meet Josh Simons, her new husband over in South Korea, by Skype was one stand-out moment of her visit. Next summer we get to meet him in person. Erin was kept busy seeing all of her loved ones including Candice’s toddler twins, fishing on our lake, and walking either 4 plus or 5 miles down to Gma Shirley’s house. Since her wrist watch and her car disagreed on how far it was to Shirley’s house, Erin was perturbed about that, but I was impressed either way. She was also able to see her parents because Gerry and Vickie arrived here the day before she had to get on the road to return to her new apartment and participate in the new teachers’ orientation workshops. She and her mom had time together fishing out on the lake that afternoon.

Nine of us all together were at Brian and Mary Ellen’s house for dinner in Erin’s honor last Sunday. Mary Ellen has had a busy week at work, sometimes feeding cousins, and attending Brian’s gall-bladder surgery on Tuesday. (This was same-day surgery, and he says he did good.) Nevertheless, in spare moments, Mary Ellen has been in and out trying to see her brother but has kept missing him. But as she was leaving last evening, she met up with Vickie, who is also doing a lot of walking, and they had a long visit down by the lake. I watched the debates, and I enjoyed discussing them with Sam when he came in at the end of the evening.

Gerald and Gerry took off yesterday for northern Illinois on some kind of bird dog business and are due back this afternoon. Vickie is spending another afternoon with her mother and tonight is having dinner with her brothers and families. So right now the house is empty for a little while and the quiet gives me time to reflect and enjoy recording all the comings and goings here this week. Thinking back on all the fun is one of the blessings of company. I am wondering if Cousins Week will become an annual affair.

Trent--A Star with Star Wars

A little boy’s sweet singing woke me up Thursday morning. Soon I was at the kitchen table with Aidan, 9, and Payton, 5,—our youngest and oldest great grandsons—Tara and Bryan’s boys. (Their Maddux, 7, was still in bed as I think he inherited my sleep genes.) Since their family moved to Texas, it is a rare treat for us to get to see this family. They had come downstate the evening before after a week or so visiting Bryan’s family in northern Illinois, attending his cousin’s wedding, and taking the boys to downtown Chicago.

At the breakfast table with me, Payton would periodically say wishfully, “He said he would come back.” He was talking about our grandson Trent, 22, who had come over for the family supper the night before. I bet Payton repeated that sentence at least ten times. Because of the sparsity of visits, I am not sure he knew Trent’s name.

Following supper the night before, the three boys had immediately been treated to Trent’s complete attention all evening. Trent had engaged the boys in discussing Star Wars videos, which evidently they have three or so that they watch. Since Trent has all of them, he quickly drove back to his house to get the latest to share and he came back with his collection of masks of the characters. (Although I have walked through the family room with it playing many times, I have never sat down and watched an entire Star Wars video. So I have no idea what to call these characters, but the masks were impressive.)

Trent did a masterful job of keeping three active noisy boys entertained downstairs while the rest of us enjoyed sitting around the table visiting and laughing. Tara asked Brianna questions about her spring internship, so we were able to hear a little more about that. We asked questions and caught up on Tara’s involvement with the sports facility that Ty and Kesha Warren are building in College Station. But mostly we laughed and enjoyed being together. By the time we left the table very much later, Trent had two out of three boys asleep for the night. Mary Ellen, Brianna, and Trent left for their house. (Their Brian had to be out of town this week.) Trent’s next day agenda was to finish the week’s statistics class at John A. Logan since the college is not open on Fridays during the summer term.

But the next morning as Payton remembered all their fun, he said with a certain awe more to himself than to me, “He said he had waited seven years to show us Star Wars.” After breakfast and Payton’s final, “He said he’d come back,” their day was instantly filled. First with the usual farm activities with Gerald and then a visit down the road and onto the next one for a visit with Tara’s Gma Shirley. Tara’s cousin Jeremy—just her age and who grew up with her--could only come to see her during that part of the day because of his shift at the mine.

For the boys, it was important to see Jeremy’s daughter Kinsley, just Payton’s age. For Tara it was important to meet his new son Bentley, four-months old. Even better, she had been promised she could care for the two children after Jeremy went to work as his wife was already doing. Bryan had to make a trip back to the farm once for new sets of clothes for the boys because Kinsey and they remembered a previous time when they were allowed to play in the mud. And after that reprise, they were hosed off and left to dry in the sun while Bryan came over for clean clothes.

After lunch and more play at Gma Shirley’s , the gang came back to Woodsong to fish in the lake. (I think they had almost as much fun digging worms in the garden as they did using them to fish.) Gerald was extremely impressed with very feminine tiny Kinsley who not only caught a fish—a blue gill she explained—but she was totally comfortable with handling worms and poles and taking the fish off the hook. While Bryan and Gerald supervised that activity, Tara was delightedly and smugly engaged rocking Bentley. I came in from Katherine’s and even got to hold that smiling baby boy just a bit when he woke up. Occasionally I heard mention of Star Wars and Trent’s promise to come back.

Somehow Bryan and Tara had to get those four older ones rounded up, re-dressed, hands washed, etc, along with any necessary care for Bentley and get out of our house and over to Gma Shirley’s to meet up with Kinsley and Bentley’s parents for the roast beef supper that Shirley was cooking for them.

Belatedly the two adults and five children were finally heading out through our kitchen back door when Tara and I realized Trent had arrived and was coming in the front door! It was a crisis moment, but we literally hid Trent from the kids and Tara promised they’d be back in a couple of hours. Of course, I figured that was probably not possible since everyone over there is as eager to see these far-off loved ones as we are, and Kinsley is not likely to be satisfied with ending play time with cousins any sooner than possible.

I was concerned that Trent might be bored with just us two oldsters here at the farm. But he contentedly ate a bite of supper with Gerald and me, helped Gerald with a computer problem, and took a little nap until the boys returned. (Trent is not only our Star Wars ace, but he’s also our computer and Internet expert since he is on his college’s cyber security team.) It was late when the Archibalds arrived back at the farm, but Trent had the next video ready to go and the boys were soon once again enthralled. And very rapidly asleep after that day’s heavy play. Tara and Bryan were able to move the two youngest into a bed, but Aidan was still sleeping there on the floor with a blanket when I carefully crowded through his feet and the wall when I moved upstairs after my Facebook fix in my office. With enough dim light left on, he later put himself in a proper bed.

By Friday morning, we were all excited because we knew Erin had spent the night close enough to be arriving at the farm sometime around noon or soon after. So the Archibalds decided to dally long enough to see her before they took off for their challenging trip home to Texas. Erin has moved from College Station to an apartment in Belton since her new school is at Temple. Her family is going to miss seeing her as they were able to do this past year. Although he likes to sleep in on his day off, Trent had arrived early enough to let the boys finish the last video, and then he helped them dig more worms to go fishing again out on the lake.

We’d almost finished our bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches with potato salad, corn on the cob, and chocolate cake when Erin drove up and joined us. Everyone wanted to hear about her new husband Joshua and how to pronounce her new last name. Josh is now stationed in South Korea, and they communicate daily between midnight and 2 a.m. but are able to Skype on the weekends. While we visited with Erin, Tara quietly cleared the table and filled the dish washer. Then they had to go. It was difficult to tell the Archibalds goodbye, but Erin’s presence made it less lonesome.

Erin, Trent, and I ended back sitting around the table again while we visited. We heard about the writing workshop Erin had just completed for her new position. This workshop made her miss her annual coaches’ gathering, which she regretted, but she had loved the workshop and the presenter. Erin’s enthusiasm was contagious. Trent and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing her materials and hearing all the ways she’d been shown to get sixth graders writing, editing, and sharing their work. And we read Erin’s essay in the booklet that the workshop had published. Trent, who reads widely, is interested in everything, and Erin made us both want to see kids bending over their desks happily writing about their lives. It will be fun next summer to hear her tell us how well these ideas and methods worked.

Too soon the afternoon ended, and she was off to her cousin Sarah’s house as Sarah and her husband were cooking dinner for her. I ran in to check on Katherine but did not stay long in town as the aide had things well under control.

This morning I woke up to Gerald and Erin’s excited conversation as they breakfasted together, but by the time I got up, she was already out walking—clear down to her Uncle Louie and Aunt Chris’s place! Soon Mary Ellen showed up here hoping to visit with Erin, so I benefitted from that. Mary Ellen has been working so hard all summer that she couldn’t stay long as she had finally planned a mother-daughter day with Brianna after bringing her home from Orlando near the end of June. Erin was taking Gma Shirley out to lunch, so I am hoping it worked out for Mary Ellen and Bri to lunch with them as Erin invited after she found out she’d missed Mary Ellen’s early morning visit.
After a quick lunch, Gerald went to Cape Girardeau as his brother Keith is once more back in the hospital, and later I ran into Katherine’s to give afternoon pills. While I was there, Sam and his friend Josh came in from the cruise to the Cayman Islands that Josh’s family took the boys on for their high school graduation celebration. I knew Erin was going to supper tonight with her friend Candice; and when I got back from Katherine’s, there was her note on a napkin with a drawn heart reminding me where she was. Now Gerald has returned, and we have talked over his visit with Keith. We have also talked to our son Gerry who is headed back to Texas early in the morning. He and Vickie are in the East where was he scouted a softball player. It is not easy keeping track of our family during these busy summer months.

"Summertime, an' the livin' is easy"

Drinking coffee at the breakfast table in my pajamas and a duster, I was invited to go with Gerald on his Gator to see the sunflowers. For some reason, the deer have been extra kind to them this year. Hurriedly finishing my coffee, I left the house as I was and climbed in for a ride around the farm. Going past our garden and then the neighbor’s test plots, we reached a back field. Rows and rows of sunflowers were abloom in their full circled golden glory with an infrequent blue morning glory to add an extra bit of color. No wonder the electric power line down our driveway is filled with doves these days.

Over across the country road to yet another field, we next traveled on the strip still in the Conservation Reserve Program. We appreciated driving beside the thick tall corn in the field that had come out of CPR. Along a waterway filled with large rocks, I asked Gerald where those huge boulders came from. Oh, the Sullivan boys from Goreville hauled them for us probably 20 years ago, he answered. It is exciting to see what his conscientious conservation has accomplished. Occasionally, Gerald would interrupt our ride to hop down, grab his spray, and give a lethal dose to kill a rare but unwanted piece of Johnson grass. Getting rid of Johnson grass has been a career-long effort for him.

Sweet corn and now tomatoes are part of many of our summer menus these days. That make meals easy to fix. And peaches, plums, melons, grapes, and sweet red cherries from the store or fruit stand make an easy summer dessert—sometimes mixed in with the bananas that are always on our table to make sure we have the potassium needed for meds and prevention of leg cramps.

Summer company is another pleasant addition to our lives. Last week it was an unexpected but most welcome visit from Sandra Henry from Indiana. Her mother, Shirley Jones Henry, was my second cousin. Shirley was a childhood companion in summer when we both lived in hilltop farm houses with a rock-bottomed creek between. We would holler our signal and meet up for hours of play in that beautiful creek. Years later, Shirley’s grandfather, who was my great Uncle Sam Martin, moved up from his home in Sleepy Hollow to our farm named Mount Airy Farm by my aunt Myrtle when she was a girl growing up there.

Sam’s home in the hollow on farm land bought a few decades ago by the government had been built by my great grandfather following his return from the Civil War. The house is probably crumbling now, but the nearby cave used as a tool shed would still be there. The road down is no longer passable. My cousin Doug and his son David came from California over a decade ago to see it, and they are the last I know to hike down that over-grown hollow. They came back covered with ticks, but feeling accomplished.

Sometime after Uncle Sam’s death, Shirley and her husband and children moved into the house at Mount Airy. As the oldest child, Sandra vividly remembers living there and the smell of Sam’s tobacco when they moved in. Sandra loves to tell me how my daddy—always the teacher—would tell her big words as they rode horses together and would encourage her to learn to spell them. Sadly, the house burned down (another of her vivid memories), and their family moved onto Marion. Not too much later, Sandra lost her daddy. So it was only at a couple Martin family reunions over a decade ago that I met Sandra as an adult with some of her family at Ferne Clyffe Park. But a love of her mother and our love of Mount Airy Farm binds Sandra and me together.

We have carried on some correspondence about family history, and she discovered not only a wonderful story about Uncle Sam’s false imprisonment and consequent release but also a mysterious secret that my very special Uncle Oscar had a son named Hebron who disappeared from Johnson County census records after our great grandmother’s death. Sandra traced him to Missouri, his service in World War II, and finally to California. Sandra could not stay long at Woodsong as she had come down from visiting two of her brothers in Jacksonville and was on her way to decorate her parents’ and great grandparents’ graves at Cedar Grove Cemetery down in Happy Hollow. And she was able to catch up with her mother’s first cousin Lowell Martin in Goreville for a brief visit there too.

Our grandson Sam (no, not named after my great uncle but for the Biblical Samuel) was out again for a few days, and other family members have been in and out. More are expected this week, and we are excited about that. And the next week the younger cousins are planning to gather in before school starts again. So they will be enjoying sweet corn and tomatoes with us.

Wedding Bells and Goodbyes

Because the killdeer was not on the nest as I drove out our driveway, I slowed to a stop last weekend when I came back home later. Instead of four eggs, there was now only one—and no egg shells. The next day that one egg had also disappeared, and there was no sight of the mother. I drove on feeling bereft though I know too well that all things are temporary.

Although we have had a host of company since I last wrote, our house is empty again. Unlike the empty spot in the gravel where the killdeer’s eggs lay, there are remnants of the visits we have enjoyed. A framed photograph that Gerald copied for Ernestine on the table to be returned. Sheets laundered and waiting to be put back on beds. Food still being eaten that the guests didn’t finish. And memories.

Ernestine had been torn about keeping her plans to leave since their brother Keith had ended up in the hospital at Cape Girardeau Tuesday evening. His son Tim spent the night there with him, and we had a good report at the farewell breakfast for Ernestine Wednesday morning. We were also able to hear about Barbara’s surprise retirement party that Keith had lured her to saying they had to meet Ernestine there at Barb’s office. I know he was glad he got to do that before his breathing became more troubled later in the day. Gerald and Ernestine drove to Cape Wednesday afternoon, and that good visit with Keith satisfied her that she should leave as planned.

So on Thursday at breakfast time, our niece Vicki picked up Ernestine after graciously offering to drive her to the St. Louis airport rather than putting her on the six-passenger plane again. Bad weather had increased Ernestine’s angst that the flight might not arrive in time for her to make her flight out of St. Louis. That went well, and her husband Don met her when she arrived at Salt Lake that evening.

We had really thought granddaughters Erin and Geri Ann might be up from Texas when softball camps were over, but Erin called Gerald and explained the camps were rained out for a second time, and she had taken a new teaching job in another town and had to get moved into an apartment there. And yes in answer to her grandfather’s question, she was very serious about the best friend she told us about on Facebook who had shipped out for Korea for nine months. We thought so.

A little later on Thursday Gerald told me that our son-in-law Rick had texted that that they hoped to be at the farm around seven that night on their way down to Nashville to spend the holiday with their oldest child and husband to celebrate her birthday and the nation’s. Because I knew they were coming through although I thought it might be on Friday, I already had clean sheets in the guest room upstairs where Jeannie and Rick always sleep. I have learned not to fret about the downstairs bedrooms because the younger generation tends to stay up most of the night and settle down wherever they find a couch or bed regardless of which cousin might have slept there for a night or so before them.

Sure enough when I got home from Katherine’s at almost 11, the grandkids were partying in the den downstairs where we have a couple old couches and TV and fridge. Trent and Brianna had come over and joined Cecelie and her boyfriend Ryan. Elijah couldn’t come with his family since he is working in Chicago this month, and Sam and his dad were at Waco for Sam’s orientation week at Baylor.

When I went down to say hello, they were in a state of excitement telling me that Erin was married! I thought they were kidding, but they read her announcement text to me. I was surprised but not totally amazed. Still it took time for me to absorb this big news: So they had chosen not to announce their May 22 wedding until now! Hmmm. Well, they had not wasted any time on shopping for bridesmaid dresses, flowers, and all those lovely but unnecessary things. Erin says they will celebrate with us when Joshua gets back. Yes, we will! I was not sure I could sleep after that late-night excitement, but I was tired and slept peacefully after praying a wedding blessing for this special young couple before I dozed off.

The next morning Cecelie told me they tried to pull an all-nighter, but only lasted until 3. Trent, the oldest of the bunch, is in summer school, and he had sensibly left at 2. Fortunately everyone was able to sleep in and still have plenty of time to drive to Nashville before the Thompsons would be home from work. Jeannie’s bike was on
the van, but some last minute shopping before they left did not allow her time to get it down for a ride. There were no need for long goodbyes since they’d return Sunday night on their way back to Freeport.

With the Eiler visits bookending the Fourth, we managed to stay home that day and celebrate quietly. Gerald asked if I wanted to go into town for supper; but by then, I had already prepared our holiday-themed simple meal—hot dogs and chips and bright red strawberries turned into shortcake with crackers the way my precious mother-in-law taught me years ago and with artificial sweetener to observe Gerald’s admirable discipline to prevent too much sugar. A sign of my old age was that I didn’t bother looking out over the deck to see fireworks in the sky from Marion as I usually have.

Sunday night I got home from Katherine’s earlier, and once again the grandkids were downstairs enjoying being together. While Jeannie and I sat at the kitchen table telling about our weekends, Cecelie and Ryan, Brianna and Trent, Sam and his friend Anna were catching up on their lives. Sam had just gotten home from Waco in time to do his laundry and repack his suitcase for their youth group’s mission trip. He and Anna were to leave at 6 the next morning, so they left early. Trent had school, so only three of them stayed up to watch the late night movie someone went to town for. Those three remaining made it to 4 a. m. this time, and again they were privileged to sleep in. I had bought a lasagna to put in the freezer for this occasion, so I made a salad and heated the frozen dinner rolls and dinner was ready with little trouble on my part. I went outside looking for a bloom for the middle of the table, but the one red rose was already shabby, so a plate of red apples had to suffice for our centerpiece. Earlier while the kids were sleeping, Jeannie finally got on her bike, and Rick took off to visit his old employer and friend Tommy in Carbondale.

All exhilarated because she had finally had the time to ride her bike and match the 26 miles in a day that she has worked up to after chemo, Jeannie came in to rest a bit and eat a bite with us. She soon took off again for a little ride on neighborhood roads and reached 33 miles for a new day’s record. That made her weekend a success, and we were all in a good mood when Rick came back. Once more suitcases were returned to the van along with their dogs Lucky and Leah. This time the goodbye hugs were a little longer and a little sadder.

Summer's Here and So Is Love

0Summer came on Father’s Day this year, and our nation was bathed in tears for yet another senseless slaughter. Nine exceptional people who had given so much and had so much yet to give were taken from us on a Wednesday night. My personal loss of a niece in Texas magnified my grief.

But amazingly when I turned on the television last Sunday morning while I drank my morning coffee, I unexpectedly found myself in church at Mother Emanuel in Charleston, SC. That heart-broken congregation worshiped God together and loved on each other with such intensity that their love flowed to my kitchen table.

They demonstrated for us what the nine stood for and what faith is. We know the nine would have chosen to stay here and take care of their responsibilities. That is the kind of people they were. Instead a chariot swung low and carried them to God’s presence. We cannot imagine the beauty and glory they are experiencing with Him. Believers in Charleston know that the love they shared there at the AME church as they trusted God and grieved and worshiped is but a foretaste of what the nine are experiencing That love and faith was so strong it came across the mountains and the rivers and the meadows to our farm.

Our Jeannie had just left the afternoon before. Her chemo was finished, and she came down to squeeze in a four-day visit before their summer schedule prohibited that kind of stay. Her bicycle was on the back of the van, and she hoped to try to ride again. But it rained each day. Yet she made certain to take long walks. She was in great shape when this illness hit, so she is determined to get back on the bicycle as often as she can so she will be ready next summer for the postponed last lap of her ride beside the Mississippi River to the Gulf.

Part of the four days was taken up by the many hours required for the trip down, and another part for the long trip back home. So she only was able to be here for two complete days. But it was so good to see her and to think she was able to drive that far. It had to be difficult—it has always been for us even when we were not recovering from anything—let alone chemo.

On top of that, on Saturday before she made the drive home, she took me with her to meet up with Leslie in Paducah. It was such a treat to be there laughing and loving with Les and hearing about her artistically gifted friend’s special wedding and about Les’s great new job. Of course, even after a three-hour breakfast, we were reluctant to leave, but Leslie had to drive back to Nashville and Jeannie to Freeport.

Jeannie and the rest of her family plan to stop by briefly on their way down to Leslie and Mike’s for their annual Fourth of July celebration there, but there won’t be time for any more late night talks.

In the meantime, we received word that Gerald’s only sister was coming from Wyoming. We met her at the airport Tuesday evening, and she regaled us with stories of her flight from St. Louis in a six-passenger “crop duster.” But she was safe and sound and that is all that mattered. She was even on time and no luggage was lost. She had left home at 4 a.m. and was properly tired, but we still did a lot of talking that night and have continued through today when niece Vicki picked her up to take her to another brother’s. Yesterday Vicki also took her around, and they ended up at her house. Ernestine came home with a table top’s worth of family photographs, so we did a lot of looking and reminiscing last night and this morning.

She had a rental car ordered, but Gerald and everyone urged her to cancel so they could loan her a car or better yet drive with her to visit as they rode. A special bonus for us was the Wednesday night visit from Keith and Barbara, Gerald’s youngest brother and wife. Although Keith has been here often for brother fun or business, it has been way too long that Barbara had been able to come. Her last day of work before retirement is Tuesday, so maybe we will be able to see more of her. Before Ernestine left today, we finished up at lunch the blueberry pie Barb brought us from Weaver’s Market. I had heard about the wonderful Amish goods available there, and the pie was scrumptious. Thursday night Gerald and Ernestine came back from their Union County visit with fresh blueberries Barb sent us. And they are good too.

Tonight we traveled down below Marion for grandson Sam’s graduation-going away party given by his Cedar grandparents. Their home at the end of the road is surrounded by huge pines planted 25 years ago, and their huge and attractive open garage was planned to hold such gatherings. The weather was perfect; and after the feast, adults continued talking at the tables there while the teens played on the huge lawn Fred mows between rains. It was easy for all of us to agree that these kids are a special bunch and have made us all proud.

As it darkened, David lit candles for us in and outside the garage. Darlene explained to me they always had a bonfire for Sam’s birthday, but last year it rained and they were unable to burn the damp gathered wood. So she was grateful to complete the bonfire at last. The kids gathered down by the fire. Those of us at the tables, who by now were eating the beautiful celebratory cake, enjoyed the beauty of the flames flying in the air seven or eight feet high. We were among the early leavers, but I suspect the teens stayed by that fire a long time. I hope the memory sustains them when summer ends and they have to go their separate ways.

The corn fields here are racing to reach that elephant’s eye, and some have already made it. The neighbor’s wheat along our driveway is golden and beautiful. Our killdeer has her annual nest in the gravel at the edge of the driveway and is setting on four eggs. If you come see us, stay on the right hand side of the road to miss her! Summer is definitely here; and if we follow the example of the congregation at Mother Emanuel, we can choose to do what Jesus taught: to love God, to love our neighbor; to love our enemies.

Church Bells Tolling

Cynthia Hurd, 54

Susie Jackson, 87

Ethel Lance, 70

Clementa Pinckney, 41

Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, 45

Tywanza Sanders, 26

DePayne Middleton-Doctor, 49

Myra Thompson, 59

Daniel Simmons, 74

Myra Thompson, 59

Love one another.

Just One Pair...

One of my joys in life has been when several of the grandkids came at the same time and stayed for the week. Although I never taught my own children to take their shoes off at the front door, they grew up and taught their children to do so. Gerald always changed work shoes to house shoes in the garage when he came in from the hog barns, but I would always tell visitors that they did not need to de-shoe. But I digress.

Anyhow when the grandkids were here, soon there would be a long string of shoes at the entrance from our front door. Since often a child would have two or three kinds of shoes (dress, tennis shoes, flip flops), there would be more shoes than kids in the house. I always got a kick out of that--no pun intended—the kick was metaphorical. I had Gerald take photographs for a memory.

Now just like the original four children at our house, the grandkids have grown up. Although Trent’s family is local now, he is busy with college and computer stuff. I seldom see him although I always get a big smile and hug when I do. His sister Brianna is still in Orlando with a Disney internship until her folks go get her at the end of June. Leslie is with her Mike in Nashville and is happily busy with her new job there. Elijah is home working at Union Dairy, but in July will be again working in inner city Chicago. Cecelie is working many hours at the thrift store where she worked part time during the school year. Tara, Erin, and Geri Ann are all in Texas, and I am hoping the younger two will be able to come up sometime after the softball camps are over. I am also hoping Tara, Bryan, and the three boys might show up someday on the way to Chicago. Since Bryan is a frequent flier to Chicago and sometimes takes the boys with him for grandparent visits up there, that may not happen. So though I am hopeful, I am not sure there will be any group times this summer.

I have explained all this to tell you how happy I have been for the past week that at least we had one pair of tennis shoes in the foyer. Sam has spent a few days with us sleeping in the brown room (a windowless underground bedroom) that everyone loves because it guarantees a good long night’s sleep since it remains dark until noon if necessary. Our wifi connection is more reliable than his at home, and consequently he has been able to get some necessary stuff done with Baylor. This morning he registered for his fall classes, and I took great delight in how excited he is about this chance to learn new material. I know people have to get a job and make a living after college; but in an ideal world, I feel that college should be about learning. And for Sam, it definitely is.

His shoes and Frisbee discs are gone now, and our entrance is uncluttered and lonely. He will leave for church camp in the morning—I suppose his last time for going to camp with his group of youth. We will miss his coming and going from Woodsong this week.

We are quietly and pleasantly celebrating our 59th wedding anniversary today, and it has been a good day.

And On

Sure enough Michigan won last night, so tonight’s game (7 p.m. CST on ESPN) determines the 2015 world champion. I still want both teams to win because they are both so good.

With my husband and daughters’ concerns about the breathing noise my cold was causing, I decided I better get it checked. I was already scheduled for an INR, and the staff at SIMCO are so kind and quickly gave me an appointment at the same time with a P.A. since it was my doctor’s day off. She suggested an inhaler but gave me a backup prescription for an antibiotic if necessary after a couple of days with the inhaler. I am not adverse to taking meds, but I do not want to take an antibiotic unless I truly need it. I am still wheezing but hoping the inhaler works.

Before my appointment, I had managed to clean up the kitchen and then run by Katherine’s to do a couple errands there and met her newest aide. After the appointment, I called Mary Ellen to locate her, I ran by Kroger to pick up the prescription, by the post office drop box to mail a couple other cards, and headed to Mary Ellen’s house.

I arrived and was thinking how well my over-scheduled day had gone. I reached over to get Mary Ellen’s card from under my sweater beside me, and my hand pulled out one of the cards I thought I had mailed. At that moment, lights flashed in my brain, and I realized I had wrongly stuck her card in the mail with the other card instead of this one beside me. Her birthday money gift was inside and only “Mary Ellen” written on the outside of the envelope. I went inside shaking my head after our birthday hug. We both agreed I should call the post office, which would be closing in fifteen minutes, and she dialed it for me on her phone. I had been mildly disappointed that I’d missed the earlier pickup, but now I was glad. If it had been picked up earlier, it probably would be on the way to St. Louis, where no one would know who Mary Ellen might be.

I ashamedly explained what I had done, and the sweet mail clerk asked a few questions. I could not believe that she said someone would go outside and retrieve the envelope for me. Mary Ellen and I jumped into my car since I was parked behind her garage door, and I had her drive since she is definitely the better driver. Soon she was coming out of the post office smiling with her card with its birthday money in her hand. We had a great mother-daughter visit back at her house since Brian and Trent had not yet arrived with their planned birthday cake.

You better not complain about post office people to me ever!! (Although I have on occasion been guilty.) This kind of service was the same kind I grew up with in Jonesboro with Mrs. Coffman and Bermeice Brown working there. I love small towns, and I especially did yesterday where someone was so willing at the close of a hard work day to do such a special act of service for me!! Life goes on, and I am glad for the people it includes.


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Mary Ellen's Birthday and Life Goes On

Today is a special day in our family because it is our youngest daughter’s birthday. I hope to see her before the day is over to hand her a card and gift. She works so hard that we do not see her as much as we’d like. She does it all—sells houses, keeps house, cooks often, helps Brian in the field sometimes, and helps their two young adults to be the success they are. Happy birthday, Sweetheart!

It has been a long time since I had a cold, so I guess I should not complain, but I am. In the meantime, while I sneeze, cough, and blow my nose, life at Woodsong goes on. We were torn between disappointment and pleasure when our geese married couple was followed by one tiny gosling. Evidently only one escaped the predators, and that was sad. But seeing that baby follow his parents swimming in the water was a sweet sight. Later they moved on to another lake as geese as the habit of doing. But we have had some others fly in and visit us with more and larger goslings following them.

Gerald has planted the asparagus thanks to cousin Bill Tweedy sharing plants with us. The deer have found them unfortunately. Tomatoes in the garden seem to be doing fine, and some watermelon, cantaloupe, and okra are planted. Strawberry plants have been ordered. Gerald is kept busy fighting the moles and mowing the yard that he keeps expanding. With all the rains and his care, it has never looked prettier.

We have watched a lot of softball the last two weekends. Not so much the first weekend since our Oregon Ducks won their two out of three quickly to advance to the Women’s College World Series. It was hard not to head to Oklahoma City, but a multitude of reasons made it seem unwise. We were thrilled for Geri Ann, and all of her immediate family including her three nephews was there to support her, and I know they had a great time being together. Mary Ellen watched with us, and we were thrilled if we saw Vickie and Aidan in the stands. I glanced at Mary Ellen’s phone and missed Erin decked out in yellow and green. The others were there beside them, I am sure, but we didn’t get to see them on the screen. It was sad to see the Ducks lose, but we are already looking forward to next year!

The reason I was glancing at Mary Ellen’s phone was a photo had just come in from Disneyland showing cousins Sam Cedar and Brianna Taylor together. The Marion Wildcats' band was there to see the sights and Sam would lead the band in their final march of the year in the Saturday night parade. Wish I could have seen that too! Sam is scheduled to be home today, and I am sure there will be lots to tell his mom. Brianna will be home soon as her spring internship is almost over. But the cousins were excited to be together down there in that magical place.

Now we are watching Florida and Michigan play for the championship. Both teams are so good that it is a joy to watch them. If Florida wins again tonight, the Gators will be the champions again this year. If Michigan wins tonight, they will have to play the third game for a two-out-of-three winner. It is hard not to be for both teams.

Poolside, Pomp, and Planting

A highlight of our brief stay with Jeannie in Madison, Wisconsin, was visiting with a young man from our community and his family by the pool at our motel. In small towns and rural areas, kids in school and church together sometimes seem more like family than just friends, and that has always been the way it was between our kids and the Boyd kids a road or two over from us. But then everyone grows up and often moves away. As a result, opportunities to see the young people you felt close to become sparse. So Gerald and I were pleased when it was arranged for Jeff and Maggie, who live in a Madison suburb, to bring their son Caleb to come by for a visit.

I remember their Christmas newsletter from 1997 and still have it. Maggie, an English major, had written it with little news stories telling about their new home with lots of room for the boy toys. Their were sweet photos of Michael and Caleb born just over a year apart and stories of their doing all the fun things toddlers do. Jeff had settled into his new job in Minnesota. Maggie was happily mothering, serving on the regional library board, making new friends. I remember thinking what fun it would be to get this family’s Christmas letter each year. That was not to be. Instead their life became centered on a new word—autism. Time for such luxuries as newsletters did not exist. The new home was sold, the new job resigned, and they relocated to an apartment in Madison, where the best services and help for Caleb might be found at that time.

In 2007 at Christmas, we did receive photos of two dark-haired good looking boys. You would never know from Caleb’s smile that he was limited to sign language and his special school, which he still is attending at age 19. We were told he spoke twice—both times with multiple words which seemed significant to me—but then he stopped. Perhaps it was a change in meds, Jeff felt. They only know his ability to continue speaking did not develop despite all the help they secured for him. It was obvious that Maggie had become an expert not only in helping their son but also in maneuvering the systems necessary for their son’s benefit. His brother Michael, 20 is in community college, and both are tall and big young men now. Caleb loves the water; and although Maggie changed and got him settled in the pool, he swam and played alone with the water contentedly while we had a nice long visit poolside. He never acted bored or discontented. And neither did Jeff and Maggie, who after a lifetime of challenges have many more ahead of them. It was good to visit with such an impressive couple.

We have just completed graduation week for our grandson Sam, our only under-age local grandchild now.(Trent lives nearby, but he is busy with college and I rarely see him.) I realized that I had grown to care for Sam's friends too even though I did not know them as well as our children’s friends in the old days. I will hope to hear about their lives as they complete college and go into their chosen fields. We attended his baccalaureate on Wednesday night and his commencement on Thursday at Rent One Park—the ball park for our local professional baseball team called the Miners after the coal mining industry in our region.

Thanks to a wonderful aide, her sister Mary Ellen for using her brief cosmetology training (her one-time ambition in life) and to Katherine’s church friends, she was ready to go when David came to put her in the van and take her to join the enormous crowd filling the stadium, which I think is indicative of how supportive the Marion community is toward its students. While Mary Ellen parked our car, we started through the maze of people, and I was not sure we would even see Katherine and David. But we had barely
reached the first seats, and there they were. There was one extra seat with them, and Gerald and Mary Ellen insisted I take it while they searched for seats. I was even able to see Katherine’s special friend Terri from her high school days, who came up to visit with her. Terri and Frank’s daughter Bethany was also graduating.

We had been warned that the service would be there with or without rain. So I carried two raincoats—one for me and one for Katherine—and Mary Ellen brought umbrellas and towels. We had just arrived and felt the first sprinkles—and the last! Everything went perfectly. Students did an outstanding job with their choir numbers. The valedictorian and salutatorian gave excellent speeches. Known as an outstanding class, the graduates validated that with their behavior and dignity. Finally the caps were thrown in the air, and then the park provided beautiful fireworks, and the Class of 2015 was on its way.

Despite all the rains this spring, son-in-law Brian’s corn and soybeans are up and looking good at the farm on the Pittsburg highway, Gerald tells me. Brian and Mary Ellen also have a field on the corner near us, and I have watched with pleasure the neat rows of tiny corn growing as I drive to town. She posted a photo of the “baby corn” on Facebook and got some neat responses. When your livelihood depends on it, it has always seemed natural to personalize your crop. Our niece Leah assured Mary Ellen they would be in college before she knew it.

Although Gerald claims he will be cutting back, he has the garden all ready and planted tomato plants today. He is making plans for the rest of the garden, and I am kind of excited about his consideration of strawberries and maybe an asparagus patch. The trees Gerald planted 14 years ago are tall and strong now. It will be fun to see something new to look forward to watching.

Sticking With It

Gerald and I were down in his office in deep concentration listening to a favorite preacher—Andy Stanley—when I was touched on the shoulder and I jumped. Mary Ellen had come in very early bringing a card and gift for Mother’s Day and checking on us.

I looked away from the computer screen to open my card and saw this cute little child on the front of the card with a tied-up bundle of clothes and doleful expression along with words saying there were times when running away from home seemed like a good idea. I laughed and thanked MET for the card and the kiss, and she quickly disappeared to go on to other duties. Gerald and I went back to thinking about what Jesus really meant when he said not to judge but then He continued to explain what we should do about that plank in our own eye and why we should remove it.

Soon we went upstairs to join our son-in-law Rick who had come down from Freeport Saturday night to pick up Jeannie when Leslie brought her back from Nashville and her special Mother’s Day treat hearing Garrison Keiler and Rickey Skaggs in the Ryman Auditorium.

We had brought Jeannie down on Friday after being with her for her last three days of that week’s chemo up at University of Wisconsin Hospital. She had finished mid-afternoon, and we had waited to eat lunch with her on the way back to Southern Illinois. It was late by the time we arrived at Woodsong after driving through rain and making the necessary stops for such a long trip. Leslie was at her Aunt Mary Ellen’s waiting for us since our house was locked up. It was midnight before all of us were in bed. We slept late the next morning--not Gerald, of course, even though he was the one who drove all the way home after having to find his way around Madison all week.

Gerald, Rick, and I went to worship together, and I was taken out to eat afterwards for Mother’s Day before coming back to the farm and visiting with Jeannie and Leslie once again when they arrived from Nashville. Too soon the Eilers were on the road returning to Madison since Jeannie had to be at the hospital at seven this morning. At least she has this week off to recoup from last. Leslie tried to take a nap but failed and headed back to Nashville, but I was glad I got in on some of her news and giggles she was sharing with her mother.

A friend had helped Katherine in the morning, and our grandson Sam had arrived home from his buddy’s graduation trip to fish on the ocean in Florida So it was four when I arrived to feed her a bite of supper and give her a bit of care during the early evening.

When I got back to the farm through the rain, Brian and Mary Ellen were in the family room with Gerald. We finished the evening listening to the NCAA reveal program telling the 64 chosen softball teams where the 16 regionals will be starting this Friday and who will be playing against whom. Although Sam’s high school graduation is the most important thing on our agenda this week, on Friday we will be fastened to the screen watching Gerry with A&M at Oklahoma and Geri Ann with the Oregon Ducks hosting their regional.

I am not overly sentimental about Mother’s Day because I was frequently somewhat embarrassed when I was young tying with Helen Lee at our church being the mother with the most children in a service. I can’t remember how that problem was decided as to which one of us received the flower. I was relieved when later Zella Cain was there to trump Helen and me with a larger family. However, this year along with the usual flower, cards, and gifts, I saw all three of my daughters and I talked to my son on the phone as he and Vickie returned to College Station after a surprise visit to see Geri Ann when Oregon played Arizona at the end of the week. That made it a delightful day and I was grateful for every child.

Oh, yes, when I finally read the inside of Mary Ellen’s card, I found out it was not that little child on front who wanted to run away. Someone knew what every mother wants to do on a very bad day, and I was praised because I never ran. I was glad I didn’t.

Some Enchanted Sounds and Memories

Songs from South Pacific have been running through my head all week: “Some Enchanted Evening,” “There Is Nothin’ like a Dame,” “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair,” and perhaps most often the haunting “Bali Ha’l.” Oh yeah, “Happy Talk” ran through my brain cells once or twice too. Along with the songs in my head were memories floating in and out of my brief local secondary teaching career

Long ago and far away when the high school in Marion was still where the junior high is now and when the stage in the gym at Washington School was used for high school plays and musicals, I started working part time during the 1964-65 school year. The new high school building opened with its own theater the next year. . I had the privilege of helping Yolanda Peterson with the musicals those three years that I worked part time.

The musical that first year was South Pacific. And I still cringe because the most important duty I had was to be sure that one group of dancers got out on the stage at exactly the right time, and one night I failed at that. I was stationed directly off stage sort of wrapped in the curtain there, but hearing what was on stage was very difficult, and I did not hear the cue. Somehow the kids did get out there and did fine and the show was great. Hopefully the audience did not realize I’d failed, but I still feel bad about it and quickly brush that memory aside.

Other memories are better. One reason I feel very supportive of mothers who work outside the home is that my brief foray into that lifestyle gave our children some exposure to music and the stage that they not only enjoyed back then but have continued to enjoy as adults. They were all enthralled with the plays and musicals as they heard me talking about the evening rehearsals and then the final productions, which they were able to attend. Mary Ellen, just a toddler, imitated our older kids imitating the WACs who marched to chants of “Hup two three four”—something I did not see in this year’s presentation. We learned to turn her around when she started to do something she oughtn’t by saying, “Hup two three four.” We thought our clever discipline was a distraction, but then we observed her saying “Hup two three four” as a method of self discipline when she started to get into mischief!

Consequently, last Saturday I was really happy when a minute or two before the curtain went up, I realized that Mary Ellen and Brian were unexpectedly in the house. And I knew Mary Ellen might have hidden memories of the show which might increase her enjoyment whether they came to the conscious surface or not. Years ago I read someplace that brain surgeons might touch a certain spot while doing surgery on an adult and a long ago memory would be made available—perhaps the adult’s three-year-old birthday party, for example. Reading that made me realize that everything is forever and no experience is wasted or discarded.

When I had gone by earlier to pick up my grandson Trent—my escort for the night—Mary Ellen was sitting on her hallway floor in paint-splattered clothes painting the baseboard as she finished up yet another major paint job of their kitchen and hall way. She wanted to join Trent and me, but felt it more important to complete the near-finish of this endeavor.

Shortly after that, however, Brian was rained out of the field and came home early. Even though he had worked all night long the previous night and had only a brief sleep the next morning, he thought he and Mary Ellen ought to go and support Sam. I am so glad they did because the pit orchestra was fantastic, and that made six family members there to hear Sam. (Last year’s musical did not use the orchestra, and I am so pleased it was resumed this year.)

Because we did not have tickets, Trent and I went very early. (That was one reason Mary Ellen and Brian had time much later to dress and rush in.) The woman at the ticket table asked if we were paying cash or credit, and when I said cash, she explained someone had two great tickets right down front they wanted to sell. She called a young man over with the tickets, and I was pleasantly surprised for him to quickly say his name-Shawn Tanner. Although he still lives in our village of Crab Orchard, our paths had not crossed for several years, so I was glad to see him again and to find myself sitting in seats beside him. Since he was the father of Lane Tanner, who did a beautiful job playing Emile de Becque, that made it even more special. (Memories I had of teaching Shawn as an infant and toddler in our church nursery were heart warming as I listened to his son sing so beautifully.)

In the large lobby before and after the show, I kept seeing Pat Pulley,Lane’s grandfather, at a distance and hoping to connect with him. But the crowd separated us and it did not happen. I would have thanked Pat for what he did for me that first year in the new high school building. Suddenly we had a real theater for plays instead of a gym, and in that theater was a wonderful board making all kinds of light effects possible. My problem was I knew nothing about lighting and no experience at anything more complicated than turning a single light switch on if I entered a dark room at night. Albert Storm, our principal, said not to worry—I could just find some smart student to take over the lighting. I don’t remember how I was fortunate enough to acquire Pat Pulley, but he did an outstanding job and I did not have to worry just like Mr. Storm said. I knew how proud he must be in the beautiful Civic Center watching his grandson in the lead role.

Multiple studies have shown us that music and the arts greatly increase students’ academic abilities. We must not be foolish and cut back on the arts thinking we will save money for more academic subjects. I am sure the neurologists could explain about synapses and other reasons the arts make us more intelligent. And the sociologists could explain how the students working for a common goal give them experience our democracy will profit from. And the psychologists could explain how participation helps students recognize their importance and hone their talents to gain confidence in all areas of their lives. We grandparents, however, know one of the greatest values of the arts is the memories that will enrich lives forever after.

Woods Are Fully Green Now

White dogwood blooms peek through the fully green woods as I drive to town, and the beauty makes me happy. I have “graduated” from physical therapy as of yesterday, and I am walking stronger and with better balance. I still have to be careful and I need to work in some exercise at home now to keep up progress.

Woodsong has been fairly quiet this spring. Except for some couples and a father-son fishing at the lake and Mary Ellen occasionally dropping in to watch a softball game with us, we have had little company.

We did have a long-time Texas hunting buddy of our son come in for the night last Thursday in order to hunt turkey with our nephew Bryce. He was later than he had hoped to arrive because of a truck accident causing the truck to burst into flames and closing a Kentucky bridge. So traffic was diverted another way to Illinois. I had just gotten home from Katherine’s when he arrived and Gerald was already in bed. Since the hunter had to set alarm clocks to be up by 4 a.m., we did not visit. Of course, Gerald did have a short visit with him the next morning. By the time I woke up, the turkey hunt had been successful and our guest was already on his way back to Kentucky and on to achieve his retirement hunting goals.

With six softball games to watch each weekend, that alone keeps us busy. Oregon continues its winning ways, and A&M won one from Auburn at home and one from Louisana State on its home territory to prove they can compete with top teams. Unfortunately they did not prevent top-ranking Florida from a sweep last weekend.

Vicariously, I am experiencing the happy/sad/proud emotions of seniors and parents in their last days of high school. Every thing is the last. The last spring concert. The last musical. And last night the last jazz band performance on the outdoor area at Walt’s. This is especially difficult for Katherine since she cannot fully participate as she would so love to do.

However, David gave her the best birthday present he could have by seeing that he had the van fixed and arranged to take her to see South Pacific and hear Sam playing his last performance with the pit orchestra. We were so grateful for her aide who helped. The orchestra were truly amazing, and the show was without flaw as far as I could tell. I was proud to be there with my grandson Trent, and somehow Mary Ellen and Brian unexpectedly showed up when Brian was rained out of the field and Mary Ellen was able to change from the paint clothes she was wearing to paint baseboard in their hallway when I went by to pick up Trent.

The next day was Katherine’s birthday. I fixed chicken and dumplins (my tortilla easy kind) and made her the angel food cake (from a box) I so often have down through the years. The icing was lavender. I had fixed a box of small gifts—but somehow left it on the dining room table. Gerald came by for a visit, and her mother-in-law arrived with another birthday cake. Expressing her pride for our mutual grandson Sam, Darlene and I were able to celebrate him as well as the birthday girl. Her cake was as delicious as it looked we found out when we cut it last night for Katherine’s supper.

Katherine laughed about the pleasure of prolonged birthday celebrations since I had to deliver her forgotten birthday box yesterday. Her wonderful friend Beverly was there helping her and had brought her a birthday bouquet of tulips. Katherine said her sister Mary Ellen had been there for a couple hours earlier for a birthday visit. Her book case was filled with birthday cards, and she was grateful for all the remembrances. I had to tell her about the multitude of Facebook wishes since somehow she has lost a password to allow her to get in. Beverly and I and then David made valiant efforts for her to get to attend the jazz band event, but the disease won that battle as it has so many battles. I am hoping the delay did not prevent David from getting the band on video for Katherine to watch. She has had to accept this form of participation for so many things, and it makes us long for more research for multiple sclerosis.

April Beauty

When Gerald and I met up for lunch at Cracker Barrel the other day while I was in town for an annual cardiology check up and then an afternoon physical therapist appointment, I joined in with the other customers exclaiming over the colorful beauty of the first tulips I have seen blooming this spring.

My life right now is composed of three times a week physical therapy to strengthen my legs to avoid falls, helping out at Katherine’s, thinking about and praying for Jeannie, watching loved ones’ softball games when I can, and doing the little I need to do here at Woodsong to keep Gerald and me fed and trying to not let the dishes pile up. (I don’t want the kitchen to look like my paper piled office that I never seem to have time to file or sort through. In the past, I have tolerated my office mess by acknowledging that I am “paper rich.” Now a more honest description might be “messy paper hoarder.” While it is possible to move around at least, I would not want the TV cameras in my office.)

Because the life I am living is not the retirement I planned, I work hard to keep my spirits up. There really is no longer time for lunch with friends—at least not very often—and participating in organizations is no longer an option either. Reading is too often limited to scanning the daily newspaper. I thought at this time of life, I would be reading all those non-fiction books we have collected. They hold knowledge I had hoped to gain. Instead of what I had anticipated, I try to enjoy my social life on Facebook, which is sometimes trivial but other times quite rich. Surfing gives me instant gratification if I google for specific answers to questions. Most of all, I enjoy the spring beauty here in Southern Illinois as I look out our windows or drive to and from town.

Rain-laden unplowed fields are purple with henbit, a tiny plant I love bringing memories of building Easter nests as a child and learning from Jeannie’s international college friend, who spent one Easter with us, that this little blossom is called “Throne of Buddha” in Japan. Cones of lacy white blossoms top the region’s pear trees, but already are beimg replaced with cones of green leaves. In the flower bed at the end of our patio, paper whites bloom to join the fading beauty of the double daffodils Gerald dug up from a long ago homestead area here on the farm I strongly prefer the delicate shape of single daffodils, but I like it that we have something planted from someone else’s past enjoyment of our land. Gerald’s little flower bed near the driveway greets us with the single daffodils, paper whites, pink and blue hyacinths, and now tulips. Our red bud is beginning to bloom, but many in town are at the height of their purplish-pink beauty. Jeannie is even getting to enjoy blooms up in Freeport when she bikes or walks. Their blooms come later than ours often times, but then they last longer. Isaw the first dogwood and the first lilacs of the season at Katherine's today.

There is so much to be thankful for in our lives, and I don’t want to miss out or be blinded to the good things despite sad and scary news on the television or the sad and scary things in our children’s lives. After technicians came to change our server this morning, we no longer have a time limit on what we can click on our computers. So Gerald and I listened together to a sermon today. The preacher reminded us that Jesus said not to worry and not to be afraid. I like that, and I have tried to follow that teaching of His today Sometimes I succeeded.

Our Easter Weekend

Sweet miniature daffodils and two varieties of large showy ones circle the lamp post in Katherine’s front lawn. These were planted back in the day when she could still walk and work in the garden, a favorite activity. Her lovely flower garden in the corner of her back yard that she worked so hard on was destroyed when a huge tree from the park landed on it in a storm. I have tried to take some blooms inside for her to enjoy since she rarely is able to get outside in the sunshine these days. It seems a shame she did all this work and does not get to enjoy it. Three of the showy ones centered her table yesterday for Easter dinner.

I considered titling this blog “A Different Kind of Easter,” but realized that was inaccurate. The Easter described by Matthew. Mark, Luke, and John, is the same as always. How we celebrate it may be different as it was for us this year, but what we are celebrating remains the same: He is risen!

Woodsong was quiet this Easter weekend. There were no adults catching up on each other’s lives, laughing and talking late at night. There was no singing or piano playing. There were no grandkids coming and going. No one made nests in the yard as my mother taught me to do as a child, a custom which our children and grandchildren continued. There were no egg-dying parties at Katherine’s house or ours as in the past. I did boil eggs on Saturday and dye them quickly by putting several together at once in three bowls in three colors. But the eggs wee done dutifully for the table the next day and not as the messy creative experience the children always enjoyed. No one made the traditional bunny cake that Mary Ellen started as a small child and the next generation continued. In fact, I experimented with my first purchase of a sugar-free cake mix and icing. I did not buy a single bag of candy. There was no need.

We had a deluge of rain on Thursday night. Mary Ellen called the next morning to say that since they were unable to get in the fields, they could take the opportunity to go visit Brian’s northern Illinois family and be able to also see Jeannie. Jeannie’s family has always been able to come down for Easter weekend; and since that was impossible this year, I was grieving her absence.

Mary Ellen and Brian were grieving Brianna’s absence this holiday for the first time in her life. Meanwhile down in Nashville, Leslie and Mike were having his parents in for Easter from Ohio. The Texas families could not come this far right now so they were celebrating there, except for Gerry who was with the A&M softball team in Atlanta playing Georgia Tech. Geri Ann was with the Oregon softball team playing at Los Angeles against UCLA. (Both of “our” teams lost their first game in the series and then won the next two.)

So Gerald took me and the dinner I had prepared into Katherine’s house as she had no aide on the holiday. Then he went out and picked up Trent, who didn’t go with Mary Ellen and Brian, and they went to church together. Sam and I started Katherine on her morning routine—adjustments, tooth brushing, adjustments, glasses cleaned, adjustments, egg, toast, juice, and meds. David’s family from northern Indiana was down at David’s folks, so after David came by to check on Katherine, he went on to his family celebration.

I cleared off Katherine’s large kitchen table of the meds, fruit, and mail accumulated there. I used paper plates and spring-colored plastic cups. (I first wrote “glasses,” but I guess plastic can’t be called glasses.) With her pretty bright daffodils, the deep colored eggs in one of her lovely crystal bowls, the colorful ribbon salad I always make for this holiday meal, the table was pretty enough that Katherine exclaimed when she saw it after her daddy took her with the Hoyer lift from bed to her wheelchair. Her exclamation made my efforts worthwhile. (When she went off to college, one of the things I missed was her appreciation for efforts that I made to add color to the table with food or flowers, napkins or pretty dishes.)

The greatly reduced menu this year in addition to the Easter eggs, salad, and cake included the baked ham, scalloped potatoes which I only make at Easter now-a-days, peas, rolls, and grapes for the healthy eaters. Instead of fifteen or more of us, five of us were able to pass food at the table instead of people having to serve themselves from the buffet as we do at our house. Instead of Sam and Trent being off at the “kids’ table,” it was fun sharing our table with two young adults. (Sam will be 18 on his birthday this month, but life has required him to have adult maturity long before his birthday.)

After dinner on the way to his Cedar family evening dinner celebration, Sam took Trent home, where he continued texting friends, playing games, or doing whatever he constantly does with great skill on his phone and computer connecting with people all over the world. Gerald found Geri Ann’s game for us to watch on Katherine’s big-screen television for our afternoon entertainment. Noon pills came at 3 or so. I stayed on through Katherine’s small supper meal, more television, and finally the evening routine including night pills.

After a long day starting with cooking at home, I was getting tired as I do every evening and was very grateful for two of her church friends who come in emergencies to put Katherine back into bed. People at her church have been extraordinary in helping her for many years now. And Jeannie is telling me the same thing is happening to her with extreme kindnesses from so many people.

When Gerald came in to pick me up, I found him in the kitchen with a tool tightening screws on Katherine’s table that he observed was getting as shaky as our kitchen chairs, which he had felt compelled to tighten that morning. (I had not noticed, but was glad he had.) We were both in bed by 10 o’clock, probably another first for me on Easter night. It was a different way of observing Easter for us, but the reason for rejoicing was the same.

Hosanna! Hosanna!

Palm Sunday was a good day. We were reminded through music and drama at First Baptist Church in Marion of what the Lord has done for us. The visually pleasing set took us back to another time, and the music by the large choir was lovely and uplifting. The huge cast meant many children and adults had the benefit of religious education that participating in drama provides. The woman portrayed at the well made it clear that God knows our hearts and wants us to live happier lives. The disciples at table with Jesus reminded us of what He must still face. The heartbreak of Peter as he faced what he had done was very moving as was the Lord’s forgiveness. We left wanting to sing praises to the One who loves and forgives so willingly.

Nature at this time of year celebrates the resurrection in a dramatic fashion also. Daffodils brighten the rural roadsides and city lawns. Two geese have made their appearance on our lawn and the lake. They wander close together as the love birds they are, and I assume somewhere is hidden a carefully built nest accumulating eggs. We are anticipating the goslings, which soon will be trailing them. Gerald started cleaning out and painting the martin houses for this season; and before he finished, the first rush of birds showed up to occupy them. A flock of canvas back ducks on their way north settled on the south end of the lake.

Katherine had enough help she wanted me to have the weekend off, and I enjoyed it. I was tired after adding two weeks of physical therapy to my normal activities. I took advantage by getting lots of rest and watching softball with Gerald. I had missed Oregon’s Friday evening game against Washington, which Oregon won 8-0 when Cheridan Hawkins pitched a perfect 5-inning game. I was actually glad, however, I missed Alabama shutting out A&M on the Crimson Tide’s home field that evening.

The next morning I changed bed linens, did some laundry, and fixed Saturday lunch, but Saturday afternoon would be devoted to softball—A&M on Gerald’s computer and Geri Ann and the Ducks on the television. Well, it was not a good softball day for our clan. I thoroughly expected the Aggies to come back strong and win after Friday’s humiliation, and we were proud when A&M was ahead for five innings. We did grow nervous as the score gradually tightened, and then #5 ranked Alabama ended up winning 8-5 over 23-ranked A&M. As if that were not disappointing enough, the Ducks lost 10-2 in five innings after a 13-game winning streak, and Jamie Takeda was injured in a collision in the outfield. Geri Ann had pitched the first four innings, and after that we did enjoy seeing her play in the outfield for the first time any of us could remember except maybe in grade school summer ball. Mary Ellen had dropped in to see the end of the game, and we consoled each other over the gloomy outcomes as we ate a bite of supper.

But Sunday afternoon was another story. At Tuscaloosa, A&M won 11-5 and looked like a different ball team. Not liking the way losing felt, the Ducks came on with great power and won 15-6 in five innings with eight home runs breaking the university’s record for one game. For us it was great fun because three of those home runs were Geri Ann’s. I figured that broke her personal record, but Gerry reminded us she had done that for Georgia against South Carolina. Mary Ellen had brought over a frozen pizza to pop in the oven for supper, and this time we munched happily as we watched the end of the game.

Jeannie was grateful for the weekend away from chemo and seeing Cecelie, her and Rick’s youngest, play Cecily in The Importance of Being Ernest. But today it was back to Wisconsin for Jeannie. And I am going in now for a brief evening shift at Katherine’s.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!

Today was a special day because 85 years ago on this day Gerald was born. Everyone agrees that he does not look nor act his age, but we celebrated his age today! Hard work outside, disciplined exercise here in the house, and recent physical therapy have all had their desired result, and he remains strong and active. No, not as strong and active as five years ago, but he’s looking good. He was kept busy throughout the day answering his cell phone to receive birthday greetings. He had already had his birthday breakfast with his brothers and nephews in Jonesboro yesterday, so his calendar was freed up for today.

Our youngest daughter Mary Ellen and husband Brian picked us up for a visit to a large church that they discovered when Brianna first went to Murray State. The building is very user friendly, and Mary Ellen especially wanted us to see the children’s area with its farm theme dreamed up by the pastor, who is also a part-time cattle farmer.

I’d heard enough about it to want to see these amazing attractive rooms that have an inside barn construction two-stories high and life-size plastic tractors for children to climb on among other attractions. In one room, I also noticed multiple computers for the children to use. It was a fascinating venue for Bible study for children to grow up in, and I am sure the children enjoy it, while they learn that we reap what we sow and that God, who created this world, gives the increase.

I am also convinced that in smaller congregations children can fortunately be taught those important life lessons seated at the table with loving teachers—especially those who know children learn by doing and, thus, do not follow the “sit still while I instill” method.

Best of all, children can be taught at the kitchen table with parents or during bedtime devotions, and perhaps most importantly by observing adults at home and in the community who try to live by Jesus’ teachings. After our worship there in the attractive auditorium and enjoying Mary Ellen’s tour of the children’s spaces, we drove through beautiful Kentucky Lake roads and on to the nearby Patti’s restaurant, which also has elaborate but homespun décor.

The food was excellent and servings large enough that some had to be brought home. Service by friendly waitresses in yesteryears’ long cotton dresses were able to create a feeling of conviviality in the room we shared with other tables of guests. Gerald was one of three in our room who was celebrating a birthday, and we were invited each time to sing along with the family wishing their loved one happiness. We found ourselves sharing smiles and remarks with other guests when we exited.

We got home in time to catch the end of Oregon’s second softball game at Salt Lake against Utah. We had already been getting phone messages about the game from Gerald’s sister Ernestine and her husband Don, who had traveled there from Rock Springs to see Geri Ann play yesterday and today. Texas A&M won over South Carolina in l0 innings on Friday but was rained out yesterday, but they won two games today, so we knew Gerry was in good spirits. Oregon is supposed to play a third game tomorrow, but they too may be rained out.

On our end of the state, Katherine had enlisted help for today, so I could spend the day with Gerald. At the other end of the state, Rick was taking our Jeannie to Wisconsin to start her chemo tomorrow. I marvel at the advances and discoveries of the scientists and doctors who treat the many diseases and health problems inflicting us humans, but I am also very thankful for all the friends and the many people, many we do not even know, who have committed to praying for Jeannie.

Adversity

Although we missed out on one big snow while we were gone, we came home from Texas to experience the next one. Schools were closed, and people were pretty much home bound by the ice and snow.

Our middle daughter Jeannie has been our extremely dedicated bicycle rider and healthy food advocate. We were shocked to find out that a second surgery was required after a negative biopsy. We delayed our trip up to Jeannie’s because of the fear of roads. (I felt as if the worst thing we could do was to go up and have an accident and add to family woes.) We were glad we waited. Despite the snow in the fields beside the highways for the length of state, the roads were all fine. So we arrived last Friday—the day Jeannie came home from the University of Wisconsin hospital a day early, which we thought was a very good sign.

The weather had not only gone from bad to beautiful in Freeport, but we had to laugh when Gerald reported from a phone call to our nephew DuWayne that the temperature down here was colder that where we were at the north end of the state.

Once Jeannie arrived at home, her positive attitude kicked in, and she started walking every day. She is determined to be as healthy as possible as she recovers from this unexpected adversity in her life. Since she is not allowed to ride her bike yet, she is substituting walking. Her daughter and son-in-law arrived the same day we did. Mike left Sunday with Millie and Sidney (their big dogs), but Leslie stayed to support her mother. Despite a busy high school schedule and working a shift Saturday at the thrift store where she clerks, Cecelie was in and out with her boyfriend. They impressed us with their serious chemistry study at the dining room table after we ate.

Leslie was there until Thursday of this week when she back flew home to Nashville. Elijah was on spring break from Illinois State, and he arrived the day after us on Saturday in perfect timing to work the opening day at the famous Union Dairy (the place where people in Freeport go to get their ice cream cones every spring and summer). He was able to see how well his mother looked, take Leslie to the airport, and make himself useful during the week however he could. I am sure Cecelie was glad to have the companionship of her siblings during this time.

And I am sure they ate well all week, because Jeannie’s church was sending food. We enjoyed part of that good homemade food. I even came home with the recipe that the pastor’s wife sent with her Quinoa chicken salad. I had just learned its surprising pronunciation before we went to Jeannie’s, but I had never eaten it. Now if I can find it at the grocery store, maybe I will cook it and join the other gluten-free Quinoa enthusiasts. We were especially blessed Saturday evening to get to hear Leslie and Elijah practice “At the Table of the Lord,” which Jeannie had requested that they sing the next day at their morning service.

We felt we needed to leave Sunday morning instead of going to worship with them, because we wanted to stop in Mattoon to see my brother Jim, who is still recovering from the heart procedures earlier this year. After a lazy and pleasant breakfast at our motel, we took off. We knew my nephew Robert was staying with Jim and Vivian this winter helping them—they brag on his cooking. We were looking forward to seeing him for the first time in a long while. We were even more excited when we arrived to find our great nephew Sean and his two sons there visiting. I had not seen Sean since he was a young boy and had never met their toddler Lincoln (called Linc) nor Vincent Indiana Roland Jones, age 5, and called Indy. Linc had beautiful red hair, the kind we had always wished someone would inherit from Vivian. She graciously explained that Sean’s wife Paige had red hair in her family too. They soon had to leave, but Indy sparkled and entertained us while they were there, and I had to notice his excellent vocabulary.

As I had hoped, next my niece Judi dropped in. We had missed Sean’s brother Ryan from Champaign-Urbana, who visited the day before. And we had to leave before our niece Jane and her daughter Vanessa dropped in, but we still felt we had great dividends for stopping for that brief visit and seeing so many of the family.

We have had a busy week here as one of Katherine’s new aides ended up at the doctor’s with kidney stones and was unable to work all week. Fortunately that aide was friends with another woman who came part of the aide’s shifts, and I helped out as did some of Katherine’s friends who have generously given her their help. This was spring break for schools in our area, so Sam and his dad David had gone to visit a couple of colleges in the Southeast. With Trent on break to go with them, Brian and Mary Ellen traveled down to visit Brianna at Disney World. Fifi, who travels well, was able to go along because Brianna was missing her too. She was able to stay in the kennel there since Brianna had a discount. Mary Ellen and Brian must have felt rejuvenated by their trip, because they were already heads up painting the ceiling in their living room changing the brown wooden tiles to white. It was looking good when I stopped by. I got an air hug from Trent, who wasn’t feeling well. I had never had an air hug before but I imitated and sent one back.

I think all the family is back in place now, and we are hoping Katherine’s aide has no more health problems. I finally had my evaluation appointment, and I will start two weeks of physical therapy on Tuesday, Most of all, we are praying that the week goes well for Jeannie as her treatment continues. So many people are praying for her, and we would be grateful if you would too. She might get to complete her planned bicycle last lap to the Gulf Coast this summer after all.

The Grass Is Greener

One of the first things I noticed on our recent trip to Texas was the green grass everywhere. I even saw one man out using his lawn mower the first day we arrived. Later we were to see both a hotel and a restaurant bordered with beautiful blooming beds of bright yellow and deep purple pansies Spring was obviously coming earlier down there.

This was our first trek down to visit our son Gerry and his family since they left Georgia and became residents in College Station, where Gerry became associate head softball coach at Texas A&M. His oldest daughter Tara Archibald also took employment in College Station, and she and husband Bryan and their three young sons (our only great grandkids) are just five minutes away from Gerry and Vickie’s. Bryan continues to work in his home and only flies to the head office when necessary.

Erin, Gerry’s middle daughter, left Corsicana and took a job teaching language arts to sixth graders in Rockdale and coaching the high school softball team there. She chose to live with her parents and drive to Rockdale even though she often has to get up at 4 to run before she makes the trip to school. She usually has the entire upstairs to herself. There is one bedroom decorated with many softball awards reserved for the youngest daughter Geri Ann, who is away most of the year. She is a junior at the University of Oregon. We slept in Geri Ann’s room, and we were happy that Erin and Tara and Bryan and Aidan, Maddux, and Payton were all so available to see each day.

Our trip was planned to coincide with Geri Ann’s softball team’s foray to Texas. We arrived on Sunday in plenty of time to drive with Gerry and Vickie and all the family to see the University of Oregon Ducks play the University of Houston on Presidents Day. Unfortunately, it rained hard on that holiday when Erin and the great grandsons were all off school. So plans were messed up, but the whole family was able to go up and have dinner with Geri Ann before she had to leave us for the team’s required study hall.

Tuesday was not only cold but very windy. By determination and cancelling other things, everyone but Erin did get to return to Houston on Tuesday to watch Geri Ann play and win their two games with the Houston host. Despite multiple layers of clothing we were cold. But the stadium with the Houston skyline rising up behind the outfield was lovely, and we were grateful for plastic seats rather than aluminum bleachers.

Wednesday was the day the Ducks were to play Texas A&M at College Station, and Gerry understood that we had to cheer for Oregon and be happy when they won. We were glad to get to see Gerry’s team and begin to learn the players’ positions. A&M had to leave on Thursday for their tournament in California, so our visit with Gerry was shortened. (And we were extremely pleased to learn after we reached home that the
Aggies had won all five of their games in that tournament.)

The Ducks were participating in a tourney hosted by Baylor University starting on Thursday, so for the next three days we drove to Waco’s beautiful campus. Undefeated Oregon played Baylor that first day and gave the Bears their first defeat this season. They then won their two Friday games, and on Saturday defeated North Texas before their final game, which was again with Baylor. This time it was Baylor who gave the Ducks their first defeat.

Despite Vickie urging us to stay longer at College Station, we left after this last game. So Vickie and Erin had come in their own vehicle, and now Gerald was driving again after enjoying being chauffeured in Houston and Waco’s city traffic. After gathering to greet Oregon at the game’s end and to say our final goodbyes and give our last hugs to Geri Ann, we traveled on to the Denton and Ponder area in Texas.

Before going back home, Gerald wanted to see friends who left Illinois and settled in
Texas. A native Texan, Bobby Sanders left our village of Crab Orchard and moved his family back home years ago. One of our neatest vacations was when we went down to visit Bobby and Katherine and then went on down to San Antonio and met up with Gerald’s air force captain. After Katherine’s untimely death, Gerald has returned several times to hunt or just to visit with Bobby briefly when Gerald was trucking nearby. We stayed up late talking and the next day had a long visit over breakfast at the local Cracker Barrel. By now, the weather predictions were pretty dire, and Bobby urged us to stay on and be safe at his house, but we had another visit we wanted to include in this trip.

When Gerald was in grad school at the University of Illinois, Don Dillow was our pastor. His wife Helen Ruth and I had toddlers the same age, and Helen Ruth was a real encouragement and mentor to me. We have had many visits and connections down through the years here in Illinois, but they finally left the Springfield area and moved into a beautiful home built by their son and became Texas citizens. Despite health problems that come with aging, they lead very active lives. They both looked great. Don still hunts and gardens. Helen Ruth still plays the piano and teaches Bible classes. We arrived in early afternoon, and talked hard and fast sharing updates with one another for a couple of hours. It was raining hard now, but ice was expected. The weather forecasts were worse and worse, and the Dillows urged us to hunker down with them and wait for good weather. It was tempting and would have been fun, but we needed to get home to Southern Illinois.

Fortunately, we kept to our plan to drive on into Arkansas, and we stayed at the same motel we stayed at on the way down. The wind and heavy rain made driving difficult, but Gerald didn’t seem to mind. Because of the predictions, we really weren’t sure how long we might stay there, but our roads were clear the next morning and we were able to complete our trip back home by late afternoon. Bobby and the Dillows were iced in for the next couple of days. Wrecks were common. I am wondering if the grass is still green under all that snow and ice,

Although we experienced rain and cold in Texas, we missed the ice and snow that shut down the schools here at home last week. (There was and is still snow on the ground, but the roads are clear.) We had a lovely welcome home thanks to two neighborhood teenagers who had come over and cleared the front sidewalk for us while they were off school.