A Full August

Grand kids, cantaloupe, watermelon, tomatoes, okra, cataract eye drops, guests, eclipse, dirt dobbers, national softball championship! Our house and lives did not stay empty long after baby Caroline's departure—partly because of the continued sweet photos of her on Facebook, which Gerald prints out for us but also because of other summer events and endings.

Erin still has time for photos and videos for Josh in South Korea even though her school year has started in Texas. As much as she is going to miss full-time with Caroline, she will not be worried about her because her mother Vickie will be Caroline's week-day caregiver. I wish every working mother had it so good!!

School starts early these times, so like Erin, the other grand kids and great grandsons are already back in school again after the end of their summer jobs and activities.Tara no longer teaches except softball there at the sports complex, but those three sons' school schedules are probably as difficult to keep up with as their summer ball games.  Grandson Elijah is the only one whose school starts after Labor Day, but he is already working in his Chicago classroom preparing for his second year of teaching kids with vision impairment. He was down to catch up with other cousins, and I was able to hear a bit about his last eight weeks of teaching one mainstream class of writing to 8^th graders, which happened by accident and won't be part of this year's duties to my disappointment.

Sam was also at Woodsong briefly since he had finished his summer internship located at the University of Texas, where he too taught language arts with a junior high age group in a special program. He loved teaching and delighted his mother by having some of his students call her. He was able to go with his cousin Brianna and her brother Trent to the Saint Louis airport to meet Rachel, Trent's lovely red-headed girl friend from New Jersey. They managed to stick in a Cardinals baseball game before they came back to the Taylors. Next, after Elijah came down, they were off to visit Brianna in her apartment at Murray, where she has already started her senior classes. From there they were off to Nashville, where our granddaughter Leslie was featured as a soloist at a festival there. Then they were back to the Taylors in time for the eclipse mania here.

We did get a very brief visit from Geri Ann when she was here to be in a friend's wedding this summer, but she is already at work at her new job with autistic children out in Portland, Oregon. I have yet to have a summer-end visit from our youngest grandchild Cecelie who spent a month in India helping with children—so I still have something special to look forward to. She has started college already at the community college near Freeport. Rachel had to return home the day after the eclipse, so I was very glad Trent brought her over while we were watching Gerry's Scrap Yard Dogs in the finals of the National Professional Fast Pitch (NPF) softball final tournament. This was not televised, and we had to watch on Gerald's computer screen, so his office was crowded with us, Trent and Rachel, and our eclipse guests Bob and Sylvia Mountz from Arizona.

We had watched Thursday and Friday as the Dawgs won the semi-finals against Akron Racers. Then rain delay made the first game of the finals against Florida's Pride quite late, and sadly we lost 5-0. After church on Sunday, we were soon again glued to the computer watching Monica Abbot lead the Dawgs to a 2-0 victory in 125 degree heat. Although Monica Abbott is considered the best softball pitcher in the world, no one could imagine being able to pitch another complete game in that heat to win the final. Megan Wiggins' lead off home run certainly was not a good beginning. Yet the lead went back forth between these two great teams, and we won 5-2. There was much celebrating at Woodsong. Let me include a quote a sports writer used from Gerry about Monica Abbott:

"You can follow softball for the next 30, 40, 50 years, and I don't think you'll see another performance equal to her performance here this week," Scrap Yard coach Gerry Glasco said. "The heart and the guts she showed, the tenacity on the mound in the heat, in the humidity, weather delays. It's a phenomenal performance, and, I think, one of the greatest performances in the history of softball."

The next day was the much anticipated total eclipse, which our area experienced for the longest period of totality. Naturally there has been great ado about it here with Southern Illinois University Carbondale opening facilities to NASA. Visiting public were welcomed to their stadium and even to a large high-rise dorm that is due to be torn down. Other area towns and campgrounds were packed. Locals were warned that some grocery shelves might be empty and highways crowded. The first was true for me when I shopped before the crowds were supposed to come. Area folk had been stoking up. However, since people came to the area over a period of days, the roads stayed clear—until everyone left at the same time.

Our favorite thing about the eclipse was that we were going to have a visit from Bob and Sylvia. Sylvia had spent her early childhood at the State Forest Preserve west of Jonesboro where her father Ralph Fisher started the tree nursery there. The Fisher children went to the same country school that Gerald and siblings went to. Mrs. Fisher would volunteer in the classroom to identify trees in a wonderful project where the children brought in leaves and bark and nuts for a huge display. (That school was treated to teaching by a young woman, who later taught at SIUC, and was the object of much admiring email conversation by former students from little Miller Pond School and some from Anna Junior High.) The Fisher family lived in a big house on the hill by the park, and I vaguely remember Mabel Norris taking some of us down to play with the Fisher children one day. One of my few memories of the Fishers in Southern Illinois was a huge bill board with the painting of a beautiful stallion that Mr. Fisher owned. But Gerald's family were next door to the Forest Preserve, and the two fathers coon hunted together and worked together on many projects, often with kids along.

Soon after my mother-in-law died, we took Dad Glasco down to see Ralph and Catherine Fisher, who at that time were living in retirement village at Belle Vista, Arkansas. The first thing I saw when I walked into their living room was a very large photograph over their fireplace of the nine Fisher children. For a long time, we've enjoyed Christmas letters from Fenna Lee, the oldest of the daughters, as well as from Sylvia and Bob, and Mr. Fisher himself used to write long letters to Gerald telling of their children's educational and other achievements. With the great letters and two or so visits from Bob and Sylvia down through the years, we have felt close to them, so nothing could have pleased us more than to have them visit us to enjoy the eclipse together. And we did.

In preparation, I had found the chairs for the deck in the garage, and they were full of hardened dirt dobber nests and debris, so I was glad I did this job a couple of days earlier. My first plan was to have a picnic set up on the deck since this two-hour eclipse experience would be during the noon hour. Then as realism hit, I remembered why we have never eaten as many meals on the deck as I thought we would. It is hot out there at noon day! So we had our picnic on the air-conditioned side of the doors to the deck. We were going in and out with our eclipse glasses and watching the black area grow on the bright orb. It was fascinating to watch. We experimented with punching a pin hole in a piece of paper to watch the image on the paper below. And with a colander. I was amazed at how much bright light the sun gave even when almost covered. Then the temperature began to noticeably go down, and then things begin to be slightly less bright. Although at night the deer are often around our lake and even in the garden, usually during the day they stay far away from us. Gerald and Bob saw a buck cross the dam at tne end of the lake, and later a baby deer appeared going into our nearby woods where its mother must have been.

As the two minutes, forty-two seconds of totality was soon to arrive, it was now quite comfortable to sit on the deck. And then the predicted total eclipse came. Because of the word “totality,” I really expected it to be pitch dark. It was not. It was beautifully and eerily dusk. The lake and the clouds above the lake became a lovely soft gray and the frogs were singing to us. It was a couple of magical moments until the moon began to move on.

Bob and Sylvia went on to visit other friends in Union County, and Gerald went back to harvesting garden produce for us and others he gifted with it. He is celebrating that finally he now only has to put drops in his eyes twice a day. On Tuesday, students went back to their college classes that had been canceled for the eclipse. As the crowds left the area, life returned to normal except for the multitude of photographs appearing everywhere of the moon's trip past the sun. People in our area are excited, however, because in 2024, when the path is from the northeast to the south, our exact area will again be given a total eclipse.

Gerald is continuing to fight the dirt dobbers in our garage as Sylvia saw him doing. She was delighted when he gave her a ball cap with one of their dirt nests firmly attached on it. This was her souvenir to take back and wear to show off to her retirement coffee gang. “We need the laugh,” she proudly explained.

July Blessings at Woodsong

Our month started with gratefulness for the safe arrival of our grandaughter Brianna from her month of required study in Spain. Trent was home for the Independess holiday weekend, so he and Bri's parents drove to Chicago to meet her plane. Her cousin Elijah was there to join them while they were in town. They drove home in time to invite us to celebrate the Fourth with them and with Brian's mother Dot. Brian's grilled steaks and sweet corn and Mary Ellen's side dishes were good, but being with their family to hear about June's activities was even better. That gang went onto see the fireworks in Marion; and in deference to our age, Gerald and I went home to go to bed.

(Brian's mother Dorothy is here with him and Mary Ellen not only to escape the hot Arizona summer but to visit her Illinois family and pursue her camping enthusiam. Dot has a small camper behind her car that she sets up herself. I find that very impressive, and she has camped in most national and many state parks. When she is not away camping this summer, she is comfortably encounced in the Taylors' air-conditioned larger home-away-from home camper in their back yard. I have not yet seen her as much as I'd liked with all her camping activity, but we did enjoy that holiday feast.)

Mid-month Jeannie and Rick made an unexpected trip down because of a college friend's funeral. That gave us an opportunity to catch up a bit with them. Jeannie was working on plans and painting a huge wall decoration out in our driveway for a women's conference at their church the next weekend, and I enjoyed hearing about that. Of course, she did some bycyling while here.

One Saturday afternoon on a “just to get out of thehouse” car ride, Gerald took me up and down country roads skirted now with July's deep green trees and shrubbery. Some of these roads were familiar, but some I had never been on before. Gerald remembered them from childhood trips from their farm on the edge of the Mississippi bottom area up to the very hilly roads where his relatives lived in the same county. Most of these roads had begun long ago by early pioneers getting to their farm homes that were beloved even with the lack of electricty or an in-house water source. Now the few homes that remain are lovely and lived in by people who work in town but like being close to nature. Despite the roads' narrowness, they were all in good shape in this 21^st Century. On the rare occasions that we met another car, it only seemed as if there might not be room for two cars to pass. We always made it.

Another pleasure this summer has been watching a mama goose and her growing babies, which are now almost as large as she is. At the beginning, there was no male goose with the family, which was unusal. We wondered if he had been killed since male geese are very diligent fathers. Later in the summer, she has been joined by a male, so we had to conjecture how that has happened. When they are not swimming in the lake, they are gorging in the middle of our neighbor's soybeans across the lane. Much like the deer we frequently see, if they are on one side of the lane when our car approaches, they seem to think they will be safer on the opposite side. So we have to slow down to let them cross.

Seeing deer is so common that it is not as big a thrill as it used to be. However, I love this summer's memory of seeing a mother doe on the road to Katherine's house one evening. She was followed by her young triplet fawns.

When I cut through the country to go to town, there is a small piece of shaded road through a swampy area just west of New Dennison. (New Dennison used to be a railroad destination with a general store but is now a cluster of houses and a church building built by early German farmers and much later used by Baptists and now called Living Stone Community Church. The country doctor who delivered babies in this rural area lived opposite that church house, but his home has since burned near the end of his daughter Marguerite Lashly's life. Dr. Burns would meet the Presbyterian minister who came on the train from Carbondale and drive him with his family in his buggy to Shed Church. After Sunday dinner with the doctor's family, the minister would catch the train back to Carbondale.) But I digress.

This rural road west of the village has trees that meet over head, and I love driving through there. This road is sometimes closed after heavy rains with a creek going under it and thick woods and swamp area bordering it. Marylea Burnham told me how bad the mosquitoes used to be when she'd ride her horse down that road. However, now I frequently wave at dog walkers there. New lanes off the road lead to a couple houses and one lot preparing for a new house, so I hope the mosquito population is less. It seems like the perfect place for deer, but in all the years that I've gone through there, only once did I have a deer cross in front of my car. Recently, however, I saw a fawn way ahead crossing at the far end of the road by the stop sign joining the Old Creal Springs Road, so I now remind myself to stay alert as I drive through. What I did see one late night coming home from Katherine's was four tiny animals crossing single file to get to the north side of that swampy woods. I have no idea what kind of animals they were, but I now own an indelible mental photograph that I enjoy while I hope to see them again sometime.

Garden produce has also been a summer pleasure. Gerald brings in zuchinni and blackberries and now big round red tomatoes. Three zuchinni plants produce way too much for us, but if Gerald had planted only one or two, they might have died and we'd had none. So we are kept busy shredding them for the freezer to make zuchinni bread next winter or giving the away. Gerald came home from his latest breakfast with Union County family with a huge container of sweet corn from his brother Garry, who carries on their father's tradition of growing give-away vegetables. Garry also sent a supply for Gerald to give to our sister-in-law Opal, and that visit resulted in a large crock pot full of her garden's abundant supply of green beans at our house. Some of those went into the freezer.

Because refinishing the outdoor furniture on our front porch and then the door has not been enough to keep Gerald busy despite all the grass mowing he does, Gerald husked all the corn Garry sent us and has become an expert on shredding zuchini. I am grateful for his help and glad these two activities kept him out of the extreme heat we have been experiencing at least for a little while. He also spends considerable time following the Scrapyard Dawgs softball team by reading about their games and Monica Abbot's piching and discussing this with Gerry. And we both follow photos and bits of information about our new great grandchild Caroline, who is scheduled to come for a visit next week.

Mary Ellen has been able to see Caroline before us. At Erin's baby shower here last spring, Vickie's high school friends Connie Dahmer and Joan Mangan met up with her. Together with Connie's younger sister Brenda and Mary Ellen, they plotted for the group to visit Vickie in Texas. That happened this week and resulted with many photographs on the Internet. Bill and Beth Jordan were in Houston at this time, and so this Crab Orchard gang were able to attend one of Gerry's Scrapyard Dawgs softball games. We have enjoyed their trip vicariously, but it will be more fun as they come home today and we get to debrief Mary Ellen on these Crab Orchard adventurists.

We have loved hearing about Brianna's Spain journey and seeing all her really gorgeous photographs gathered in a photo book, which she is pleased has room for many more travels. She took these photos with her phone, which just goes to show that exponential progress in technology that Thomas Friedman wrote about. When I told her and her mom about my Internet friend Anne Born's walk through Spain, they started exclaiming because they had just been talking about that walk that Brianna would like to do someday.

Yesterday we picked up Brianna to go to worship with us, and it is always a joy to sit in a church service with a grandchild. At dinner afterwards, Brianna asked questions, and Gerald recounted for her some of our adventures and hardships getting started farming. One of his professors had told him it would be impossible to start farming without $10,000 capitol; and though he had saved well during his four years in the Air Force, that was much more than Gerald's savings. It was also commonly said in those days, as it is today, that you needed to inherit a farm to make it farming. Gerald proved all the naysayers wrong, and I bet there are some young farmers out there today also proving negative folk wrong.

It is indeed a blessing to receive phone calls and hear about our grand-kids' and great grandkids' activites. It is also a blessing to have them ask about our histories because we know how almost everyone requets when it is too late to ask loved ones about their lives.

Well, it has been a good July so far, but I need to stop now and go upstairs and fix some of those garden veggies for our lunch.

Jeannie's On Her Way!

For many years, we counted on the Eilers coming for Easter, but that was not possible last year. And this year, Cecelie had an activity requiring them to stay be in Freeport on Sunday. Jeannie’s plans for them to come just for Saturday ended up being aborted, but she messaged that she hoped to come down during this week. Maybe Wednesday. So I unlocked the front door early this morning in case she arrived while at was at cardiac rehab this afternoon. At supper time, I learned she was as far down as Bloomington; now I hoping the rain does not delay her too much longer. It has been too long since we’ve seen her!

As always I enjoyed having four of our college grandkids coming and going all weekend. Trent from John A. Logan, Brianna from Murray State, Sam from Baylor, and Elijah from Chicago where he is student teaching and living at llinois State’s apartment for the student teachers. (My interactions with our fifth collegiate was on the computer watching Geri Ann playing the opening games at the beautiful new Jane Sanders Stadium at University of Oregon.) I also got to see Sam’s friend Anna a couple of times during the weekend. I love hearing the kids’ talk about their classes, their political opinions, and their plans for the future. I like knowing the washing machine is being used for college laundry again just as it was years ago when their parents were at the farm from school. I had to be impressed when one grandson made his own breakfast, washed up all his dishes, and while doing so, thoroughly cleaned my neglected stove top! Oh, and I learned about bubble tea, which they drove to Carbondale for. Unfortunately, all left to go their separate ways on Easter morning, and the house was silent again.

Meanwhile, Gerald and DuWayne had a rough time driving down to see Gerry and Texas A&M play softball at Georgia with a number of wrecks slowing their travel. Then because of rain threatening, it was decided to have a double header on Saturday. So it was late when they left Athens on Saturday, and they decided to drive all night. (This is typical of Glasco men.) Gerald texted me when they got to Chattanooga, and he turned the driving over to DuWayne. I don’t know when they arrived at the farm, but Gerald was sleeping in bed with me when I got up, but I do not think it had been for very long.

Before I left for Katherine’s house, I had left a note on the kitchen table that anyone who wanted had been invited to go to a 9 a.m. worship with the Taylors and that we were planning on eating Easter dinner at a local restaurant at 11 in hopes Elijah might be able to linger that long and also to avoid the holiday crowd. He needed to get on the road, however; but Gerald did get up to see him briefly before he left and Sam before he went to attend church with Anna. The kids had all attended her church’s Easter vigil the previous night which ended at midnight.

Gerald was too tired to make it in for dinner, but I was well pleased because Trent did. He stays so busy working two jobs, doing great class work at John A., and keeping up his extensive Internet life that even though he is the local one, I rarely get to see him. So sitting by him and getting his hug was special although I was saddened knowing Brianna probably won’t be home until semester’s end. Then she is heading back to Orlando to work at Disney again this summer.

I had asked Katherine what she wanted for dinner later in the afternoon, and she decided she would be able to eat meatloaf. Wouldn’t you know that the restaurant had a new menu and meatloaf was not on it. I did take Gerald home a piece of sugar-free apple pie. When I was texting, Katherine later about the meatloaf and planning to go to a different place to get it, she realized she was hungry for fish. So fish, potato casserole, and baby carrots along with chocolate cake for dessert was her holiday meal, and she was able to eat quite a bit of it.

Well, Jeannie has not arrived yet, and I will not keep her up once she gets here. But I am entertaining myself to stay up in order to see her smiling face and know she is safely here! Talking can happen tomorrow.

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.

Late Fall and Early Winter Holidays Consolidate

Three of the Freeport gang arrived Wednesday night in Elijah’s car, but Elijah and Cecelie were dropped off at the Taylors to join Brianna and Trent while Rick came onto Woodsong.  Later they arrived here and Sam came out from town to join them.  Looking out the next morning at the grandkids’ parked cars, my heart was warmed  realizing anew how grown up they’d become.  Even our youngest, Cecelie, is now taking drivers instructions and will soon reach that milestone of being a 16-year-old driver.

We had ourl three daughters and all their children with us except for Leslie and Mike, who were in Ohio with Mike’s parents. Our son and his children were in Texas except for Geri Ann, who was in Oregon.  Despite enormous cooperative efforts and holding noon meal-time until 2:30, we did not succeed in having Katherine at the table.  Just when we thought we had conquered our quest to bring her to the farm, Rick and Gerald discovered the van had a dead battery probably because of the cold weather since nothing had been left on to run the battery down. The battery charger could not be found in her garage, and so it was necessary to go back to the farm and come in after the meal to get her van charged. With Mary Ellen left with the clean up, we returned to town. The van was charged, another round of meds given,  and Katherine did spend the early evening with us. 

Not only clean up, but Mary Ellen did the majority of the meal preparation this year.  She and Brianna had a mother-daughter day making pies on Wednesday as well as many delicious side dishes. Gerald and I did do the turkey, and I did the dressing and sweet potatoes.  Gerald helped me lift the heavy frozen bird into the fridge to thaw and then five days later on Wednesday night to get it out  for pan preparation.  He did the hated job of getting that awful plastic (better than the wire that used to be used) unstuck from the back cavity. As strong as he is, it was difficult even for him to remove.  Remembering all the times I had fought that at 4 a.m. in times past, I was grateful.  The turkey was all prepped and panned before I went to bed.  All I had to do when I got up at 6 the next morning was move it a couple feet from the fridge to the oven.  Mary Ellen, who had already gone into Katherine’s at 4 a.m. to adjust her after receiving a text that alarmed her, arrived early and did the major work all day in the kitchen.

I had planned to fry the okra as I promised Brianna, and the pan was laid out with olive oil and the okra thawed and covered with corn meal.  However, I was late coming back  with those of us who had gone for Katherine. Jeannie, who was busy in Freeport helping her church up there on Wednesday, drove down by herself Thursday morning with Lucky and Leah and more food for our feast.  Since she had arrived by time for the okra to be fried, she was drafted and did a beautiful job with the okra. The grandkids explained to her that she needed to burn it a bit to be like Grandma’s, so she cooked it a little longer. (That explains well my cooking, but fortunately the grandkids are sentimental anyhow about my okra!)

The five grandchildren here were in top form enjoying each others’ company and exchanging college and high school experiences talking late  into the night. Hearing about a proposed tennis shoe painting project left parents fearful they would be ruining tennis shoes, but the kids’ colorful unique designs were actually very  attractive.  Parents already  burdened with college tuition and housing costs breathed a sigh of relief as well as appreciation for their art work.

The kids were talking about progressive Thanksgiving dinners, and Mary Ellen thought I might think they meant the old-fashioned progressive dinner where each course was served at a different house.  But I knew what they meant, and I thought Gerald and my combined efforts on the turkey qualified us to be called progressive. They thought we still had a way to go, so to be truly progressive, we may have to turn the cooking over to them next year!

If not progressive, we are good at keeping family traditions.  Despite getting to bed late Thursday night, Gerald dragged Rick out of bed to go down to Union County to have breakfast at Jonesboro with his brothers and nephews. A new tradition may have been born Friday afternoon when Elijah took a educational movie in to watch in her bedroom with his Aunt Katherine, who remains extremely interested in inner-city education even though she can no longer teach.

Since I had not been on the computer for a couple of days, I was catching up very late on Friday  night after I came home from Katherine’s.  (Actually it was morning since it was long after midnight.)  I heard our herd of young adults upstairs in the kitchen cooking, and I did not dare go there, but slipped on quietly to bed. They were using their kindergarten “inside voices” and quiet giggles trying not to be a problem to the adult population, but I wondered what the kitchen would look like when people arose the next morning.  I warned Gerald before he left our bedroom that I had cleaned the kitchen the night before, but not to be shocked if things were in disarray. However, although  there were some left-out objects and dirty dishes in the sink,  over-all the kitchen showed their maturity.  Best of all, the left-over turkey  among other things was devoured, and they had once again created memories without any help from us older folks.

One holiday highlight for me was going to Carbondale on Saturday afternoon to see The Theory of Everything with my grandson Trent. Sam had left to work on an English project with his friend Anna. Elijah and Brianna, who also really wanted to go to the movie, used the discipline that has made them good students and elected to stay home and study to be prepared for classes this week.  The Eilers had to return to Freeport on Saturday, but Elijah stayed on and the kids ended up at the Taylor house that night.

Sunday was made special by having Elijah, Sam, and Bri join me at worship at our village church before I scurried in to Katherine’s house.  Gerald picked me up there to go to the funeral of our dear long-time neighbor Mildred Stapleton.  She had lost Russell just a few months ago. This couple had gone through World War II with Russell fighting overseas and through the Viet Nam War with their son Steve fighting there. Then in recent years they had suffered the death of  the two older sons. Mildred was 92 and deserved to go to a better place.   But her loss was great to her grandchildren and their younger children, Mike and Debby, who were neighborhood friends to our kids. Gerald took me afterwards for a bite of lunch and I went back to Katherine’s for the rest of the day.

The autumnal decorations are now put away, and I must face the two over-full closets with boxed Christmas trees—one downstairs and one upstairs. Because I like to leave our trees up at least until New Year’s Day, I haven’t started Christmas celebrating yet except vicariously on the drive to town or  enjoying photographs of lovely lighted trees on Facebook.

Despite a desire by many to have the main holidays of the fall and winter separate, Thanksgiving and Christmas have become one long season in America—just as towns and cities and villages have run into each other and been consolidated into metro regions, where you have to be a local resident to even know when one location ends and the other begins.

Putting the tree up on Christmas Eve was abandoned by most families long ago when electric lights replaced dangerous candle-lit trees.  And now with artificial trees so prevalent, we can put up trees early with less fear of dangerous drying out and annoying shedding needles.  Busy lives have also caused many to use the Thanksgiving time off to put up trees.   Outdoor decorations are assembled  to avoid colder weather later. Consequently we are already into the Christmas season with its beautiful decorations and lights often before we have finished our Thanksgiving grace. Even though I am behind all those who have already decorated, I am going to try and be progressive and enjoy this early beginning of the best season of the year!

 

Springtime in Southern Illinois

Driving to town provides welcome change from the sparse color of recent winter drives.  Redbuds reached their peak of beauty in our area for Easter weekend. The dogwood here is just beginning to bloom. The smell of freshly mowed grass is in the air, and the green lawns sport redbuds, peach blossoms, and crab apple blooms. I like the bright yellow blobs of dandelions in many lawns, and they make me think of our late friend Zella Cain, who also liked dandelions.

 Not all but most of the lacy white blossoms on pear trees have now been replaced with small green leaves matching the abundant greenery of grass and the leaves on shade trees during this annual reawakening. However, trees in woods along the roadside seem slower to achieve leaves, and that makes the appearance of the occasional redbud blossoms peeking through bare brown limbs especially lovely. 

Unplowed fields are often covered with the pinkish purple of henbit, and occasional bunches of yellow mustard plants are showing up.  The large patch of daffodils that I annually sneak a bouquet from has now been replaced with lovely paperwhites that seem extraordinarily abundant this year. I assume these daffodils and paperwhites were planted by the same woman oh so long ago beside a house no longer there.  She would be surprised at how they have spread out over this large area beside the road and up into the bordering woods.  

Although we had a smaller group than usual for Easter at the farm, Cecelie persuaded her mother to take her to Bloomington, where she caught a ride down with her brother Elijah at Illinois State.  Despite the pressure of end-of-semester work coming up, Brianna came home from Murray State.  These kids all landed at Mary Ellen and Brian’s farm house and stayed there, but were in and out of Woodsong as they planned their usual group shenanigans, which this year included kidnapping their cousin Sam to join them despite his not feeling well.  (Yesterday’s definitive diagnosis of Lyme disease started him on a 21-day regimen of antibiotic and the promise of feeling better in ten days. This was a relief.  How he has kept going full speed despite growing sicker all the time is beyond me.) 

These kids went over and volunteered to help hide eggs on the church lawn at our village church, and they stayed up to all hours talking over summer plans, current happenings, and the transitions in their lives. They did all their customary childhood activities including dying eggs and making Easter nests on the lawn.  Mary Ellen had volunteered to do the centerpiece for our dining room table, and it was very cute with the metal rabbit she had found the previous weekend at Hannibal, MO. She hosted the egg dying and brought over the bunny cake and the goodies for the kids to decorate it. (I think she was seven or eight when I turned over that decorating over to her.) 

Elijah gifted us with a beautiful song at worship in the village before we gathered for Sunday dinner here.   Katherine had worked out precision plans for an aide to bring her out for Easter dinner, but she was unusually weak and felt too bad to come.  The evening aide did get her to church Sunday night for at least part of the service.

  

Since our Georgia families were involved with softball games at Athens’ Jack Turner Stadium, we spent some time both Saturday and Sunday afternoons watching that series on the University of Georgia website.  We won two out of those three games and were disappointed again today to lose a home game against Georgia State.  Next we play three games against Alabama at Tuscaloosa on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

Both Gerald and Brian have been busy lately burning the limb piles from winter clearing. Gerald has cleaned out flower beds, mowed the huge lawn he has created, plowed the garden and done some planting already. Brian began farming this week after the delay caused by the heavy rains.

Somehow Gerald has found time to go with his brother Keith over to Southeast Missouri Hospital at Cape Girardeau to sit with their brother Garry, who is there with Ginger, the love of his life.  Our sister-in-law has been the victim of multiple strokes, seizures, and the resulting problems since December of 200l.  (There had been previous episodes, but that 2001 stroke was the disabling one that they have had to cope with.)  Garry and Ginger are both heroes in my view.

Late August Summer Days

Tall corn stands thick and proud these hot muggy  August days. The neighbors’ soy bean fields delighted my eyes as I drove home from our village library and after visiting with a friend today.   The lovely bushy greenness spread out to the horizon like a warm wavy blanket.  After last year’s drought, this summer in our region has allowed farmers to produce bumper crops.  We are grateful.

We have eaten very good zucchini casseroles of various kinds to our hearts’ content and maybe a bit more than that. And corn on the cob from our next-door neighbor’s bounty. And now huge red juicy vine-ripened tomatoes with every meal but breakfast.  The okra has just started producing, so I will be putting more and more of that in the freezer for meals when the grandkids are here.  I have made zucchini cookies once and bread several times for us and for others. One is in the freezer for fall. (Gerald thinks a plant blight of some sort will end the zucchini season soon.)

I have used sweetener for most of the baked goods except what I gave away.  I made a second batch of zucchini bars yesterday that turned out vey good.  It was a recipe in my files that I’d never tried before. Maybe it is not accurate to say I made a second batch because the first time I was also pleased with the result until Gerald asked where’s the zucchini.  At that point after an extremely busy morning, it dawned on me that in my rush of doing two or three things at once I had never grated the zucchini I had laid out to add to the mixture.

I have not yet picked any garden produce.  Gerald continued to complete the task  even when he had to use just one hand being careful to not violate any of  directions given him at the hospital when he had the pacemaker put in.  But I have put corn and some zucchini in the freezer along with some tomatoes and even one batch of juice I made for wintertime chili. Despite my efforts to preserve some of the garden goodness, Gerald has had to take many full buckets and boxes to our homeless shelter in town.

The garden produce is not the reason I have been so busy. There have been days when Katherine’s aides could not show up, and I have gone into town to help her. She does not want me to, but she has to have help even though I have no training for nursing.

Good things are also going on. Before her new teaching and coaching job started in Texas, Erin was up for a weekend after all most a year away. It was so good to see her.  Brianna has started her freshman year at Murray, and we enjoyed a girls’ going-away lunch date with her mom despite their own work-crammed schedule this summer. Now Leslie is stopping by tomorrow on her way from her Nashville home up to a wedding in northern Illinois.  Gerry is coming in this weekend, and he and his dad will hunt dove in those beautiful sunflower fields Gerald planted.  Next week Gerald will get a final check up with the surgeon and two days later with the pacemaker people.  So  in the midst of concern about Egypt and Syria and our daughter’s health and a friend newly diagnosed with leukemia, life at Woodsong continues with peaceful mornings filled with fog and beauty and days with worthwhile work for our hands to accomplish.  And now I am going to bed for one of my favorite  blessings—a good night’s sleep.

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Long Long Ago and Now

Seems like yesterday that our grandkids first came to the farm to be together and attend Vacation Bible School at our village church:  Elijah, Trent, Geri Ann, and Brianna.  As usual, I was helping there, so it was easy to take them along. For these preschoolers, staying at the farm for that long with each other was a big deal. I slept upstairs with them each night and we would tell stories and make sure no one became homesick. I am guessing the two boys were four or five and the two little girls were three or four. I was so proud having them attend with me.  A cherished memory was going to the local Kroger store and having those four following me like a line of little ducklings across the parking lot and into the store.  As we marched, bystanders watched and smiled at their cuteness.

That was the same year, I believe, that their big afternoon adventure at the farm was catching fish. At that time, we had two farm ponds with one at a higher level than the other though they were a long way apart.  It was planned to allow the higher pond to overflow with a wide shallow slice of running water gently flowing across the meadow and finally our side lawn and down to the lower pond.  That summer the stream of water was thick with baby fish.  The children were so delighted to be able to grab the little fish in their hands and look at them before letting them go on down to the lower pond.

After that, it became a tradition that the grandkids would come and attend VBS together. I encouraged mud pie making, catching fireflies, and other country past times. After we moved the half mile over to Woodsong from Pondside Farm, that first year here we had some adjusting to do. A favorite downstairs bedroom is completely underground and offers wonderful darkness.  We moved two queen size bedsteads into that room with barely room to walk between the beds, but the kids and I were able to sleep together there and continue telling stories and saying night time prayers. 

I think because Tara and Erin lived in our community up on Route 166 during their earliest VBS attendance, they attended from home. Leslie was still living in Carterville and went to VBS there I assume. For some reason that first year Leslie did not come down from Freeport, but later she did.  She also helped a year or so with the opening music. (At night she was as great at telling ghost stories as at music, and I had to put a stop to that when someone got too scared.)  Tara and Erin came down from Johnston City and helped too. Even Gma Shirley came from her church and helped one year when we needed more workers. When Sam and Cecelie became old enough to attend VBS, they joined the older kids. By this time, the cousins had grown very close and were adept at making up their own games and activities.  Geri Ann had to work around ball practices and games sometimes but she was always here when possible, but then she moved to Georgia.

As the kids grew up and entered high school, they would volunteer to be classroom helpers, so they continued to gather at the farm for VBS when camp and summer activities allowed. This year Trent and Elijah have completed their two years of college, but they are here to help teach. Soon to be a high school junior, Sam too is again  working  as he did in VBS at his own church. Brianna has little more than a month until she starts her college career. Once again she is working with preschoolers, and once again she gets to see the one special little girl that comes to our VBS from a nearby church each year.  They early bonded because just like Bri as a preschooler, this quiet little beauty was very shy. They understood each other intuitively.  It was so sweet to see their once-a-year friendship develop down through the years. There are other VBS kids their own age that our grandkids have stayed close to through Tweets and Facebook contact.  I like to think the children who have grown up to work in VBS are honing leadership skills that will profit themselves and others for years to come.

For the first time in decades, I am not working in VBS this year, and I don’t have to be sure to have adequate seat-belt spaces for grandkids going with me.  Their cars are parked outside.  I am enjoying hearing the piano in the living room at Woodsong though and the four here this year creating and practicing skits for opening exercises. I like hearing them debate what to do with their free day time since VBS is at night this year. While I was in bed this morning, Gerald said they got up early today and Sam scrambled eggs for the gang.

Some things haven’t changed, however. There are ten pairs of kicked-off shoes in the front hall the last I counted.  Half devoured cans of soda are left around.  Last evening after a swim in the lake, I picked up wet towels to toss in the washer/drier because I don’t like them left on carpeted floors. I enjoy it all  because of all the magical memories that started long long ago.

Celebration Time

Jeannie finished her 600 plus mile bicycle ride at 2:30 Friday afternoon and stuck her toes in the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers at the southern tip of Illinois in Cairo. Then they loaded the bike on the back of the van, and she crawled into the van with her coach to drive to nearby Metropolis. There her coach (husband Rick) took her photo in front of the huge Superman statue. Her goal and plans had been completed. They next arrived at our house, and we had thawed leftovers from their daughter Lesley’s wedding for our supper. (It may take me awhile to empty the freezer of those.)

Actually we celebrated Jeannie’s achievement the night before. Gerald and I drove to Murphysboro and then up and down the steep hills there over to the Big River—the Mighty Miss. We met up with Jeannie and Rick at Grand Tower, where they were taking a break in the mid afternoon. They were running late after a late start because of some camping problems the night before. They also explained it had been rough riding because not only was the wind against Jeannie, but part of the Mississippi River Bike Trail had been on a graveled levy road. When it started lightning and they were traveling under electrical lines, Rick was ready for her to leave the levy and get back on Route 3.

We enjoyed driving through Grand Tower and seeing the Devil’s Backbone Park there by the river. We had a little circling to do before we found each other in this little town because our cell phones suddenly did not have service in one part of the town. But finally we got a connection, and they told us they were parked by the First Baptist Church there.

That was easy for Gerald to find because he knew exactly where it was. When he was eleven, his family had brought him there from their little country church, which met in a tiny country school building, to be baptized in the baptistry there. Their family friends, Johnny and Suzie Dickson, belonged there, and so it was a familiar building to Gerald’s family. We were there a few years ago for Suzie’s funeral. So we took photos of Jeannie and us in front of the outside sign and finally went back to Route 3 heading to Gerald’s brother Garry and wife Ginger’s farm. We were delighted to see rain puddles beside the road in Wolf Lake before we turned off on the road to the forest preserve. Garry and his son Kerry have had considerable more rain this year than we have, and their crops were looking good.

The Mississippi River Bike Trail actually goes through the Trail of Tears Forest Preserve near Gerald’s home place, where Garry and Ginger live now. They said they knew they frequently saw bicycle riders going on that road, and now they understood why. For some reason, the bike trail leaves Route 3 and goes into Jonesboro and heads down Route 127 for the final lap to Cairo.

While we waited for Jeannie and Rick, we called Gerald’s brother Keith and wife Barbara and Garry and Ginger’s daughter Vicki, who was in Carbondale when we reached her, and we let them know that Jeannie was finally in the area for supper rather than lunch as we had thought might be the case. We all met and celebrated and took more photos at a restaurant in Anna before Jeannie and Rick rode back home with Garry and Ginger and spent the night with them. This brought back a lot of childhood memories for Jeannie from the days when she visited grandparents there.

After Jeannie and Rick arrived to sleep their final night at our house, she rose early the next morning to ride her bike here, but it was raining. This was the first time they had been stopped by rain the entire trip. (I thought maybe nature was telling Jeannie she had ridden enough!) We got a nice rain, but unfortunately just a few miles up the road on the farm with our crops, we only got a wee shower. Nevertheless, we had a wonderfully lazy relaxing breakfast with the Eilers before they took off to meet their kids—Elijah and Cecelie--coming down from Freeport to Bloomington.

There Rick went on towards home, and Jeannie took the kids back down to the south Springfield area to Brian and Mary Ellen’s house. Later that night the two Eiler grandkids and the Taylor grandkids--Trent and Brianna--all arrived at Woodsong for the week. Of course, they stopped in town at Sam’s house to bring him out too. These teens have gone from coming to our house to attend Vacation Bible School to coming to help with it. They love being together. I did not think Elijah would be able to come since he was working, but come to find out, he had taken the job with permission to take off this week.

This morning Sam’s dad picked him up to go to his church in town, but the other four went to Sunday School and worship with us, and I was pleasantly surprised to see all four sitting up in the choir. (We have a very informal village church, and anyone is welcome to sing in the choir.) Behind us, our friends Don and Pat Boyd had sitting with them their youngest son Rod and wife Theresa and three of their four kids who had flown in from Florida. It was good to see this collection of so many grandkids sitting in the pews where it seems only yesterday their parents were sitting.

After lunch, the kids collected Sam again, and soon they were at the dining room table playing one of their favorite games that someone brings to the farm. We all went over the church house tonight to join others there decorating and setting up for tomorrow morning. Back home after a quick help-yourself supper, the house is now filled with giggles and voices as the cousins work on a skit they plan to do. Somewhere in the house Sam’s ukulele is sounding. This is all good and worth celebrating. Certainly we have problems and more than one grief going on in our lives also, but this part is good and we are glad.

By the way, Jeannie wrote on Facebook that it was a beautiful day for a bike ride up in Freeport.

Jake (Half Mountain Cur) Meets Fifi (Who Thinks She's a Queen)

Thanks to President’s Day weekend, all the beds at Woodsong were full over the weekend. We didn’t have to use any couches though, so it was not a full house. Jake got to meet his first of our granddogs. Brian and Brianna arrived Saturday evening with Miss Fifi, a beautiful white fluffy Shih Tzu, who has always been able to keep her humans totally in her control. Jake was quite timid in the face of such royalty, but they soon were acquainted, and she was democratic enough to accept his friendship. By Sunday afternoon, they were obviously enjoying each other’s company.

Our daughter Jeannie and Cecelie had driven down from Freeport as soon as they got out of school on Friday and arrived just after midnight. I left the porch light on and lay down Friday evening to sleep on the living room couch hoping to greet them. But evidently I was sleeping so hard that I did not hear them when they came in, and Jeannie said I looked too peaceful to wake me. I woke up from this early evening “nap” at 3 am and went on to my own bed when I saw her bedroom door closed and her van with the bike attached in our driveway.

Jeannie and I had a good breakfast visit Saturday morning before she took off for her morning bike ride before heading for Nashville to meet up with Leslie for wedding planning. When Cecelie came upstairs later, we missed each other as she hurried outside to ride the Gator around the lake. When I looked out, Jake was joyfully running behind her to keep her company as he had learned to do with grandson Sam earlier in the week.

Afterward she returned to the kitchen, and she found out that her cousins Sam and Brianna planned on getting together here at the farm Saturday night after each finished their all-day activities. (Sam had gone to St. Louis on a special recreation trip with some Third Baptist friends and then he must play with the high school band at the Red Rose Gala at the Civic Center; Brianna was at a Scholastic Bowl with her school.) Knowing they were coming, Cecelie elected to pass up the trip to Nashville and stay at the farm.

Jeannie and I visited again after her bike ride although I forgot to give her the little Valentine gift for Leslie that I had planned to send with her to save postage. After waving goodbye to Jeannie, I planned to go to Katherine’s right before lunch since she had no Saturday aide. Although invited to go along, Cecelie said she’d just stay at Woodsong.

At Thanksgiving time, Jeannie had brought all kinds of homemade goodies for the long weekend including a large gallon container of homemade chili. Somehow we didn’t need the chili until Sunday lunch, and then no one stayed for lunch. I stuck the container in the freezer and have enjoyed knowing it was there for just such an occasion as this weekend. I started thawing it on Friday (which I found out was not easy to accomplish) and knew anyone who showed up hungry had something to eat. (I had thought maybe Brian and Brianna might come earlier than they did.) Anyhow I dipped up chili for Gerald and Cecelie before I left.

Cecelie had her violin unpacked, and I assumed she got in some practice and possibly some homework. Yet I still felt bad leaving her. But I was relieved when I found out Gerald had taken her to town with him during the afternoon before I arrived back at the farm with our drive-through grilled chicken supper. Cecelie seemed totally satisfied with the afternoon.

Around 8 or so, David brought Sam out still sharply dressed from his band appearance, and Brian and Brianna arrived from Waggoner in central Illinois at about the same time. I told them there was chili in the fridge for anyone who was hungry and wanted to heat it in the microwave. Cecelie, Brianna, and Sam had already communicated by email or cell phone, and they quickly filled the house with their talk and giggles catching up since they had not seen each for quite awhile. I guess it was since Thanksgiving for those three. Soon they were busy with games and snacks at the dining room table.

Gerald, Brian, and I were tired enough to go to bed early and leave them to their own devices. They were already downstairs watching a movie when I walked through after checking Facebook on my office computer and said goodnight. I warned them not to stay up too late since Sunday School would start at 9:30 before they knew it. I felt conscience bound to give them the warning although I expected they would stay up quite late anyhow. Next morning I woke them at 8:30 and they were soon showering and were ready to go right on time.

I had put a roast in the oven and a small meatloaf out to thaw since David had hoped to bring Katherine out for lunch. I knew when we got home from church, I’d quickly make instant potatoes, some buttered carrots for a little color and, of course, make fried okra to please the grandkids. There were still some nice rolls left in the freezer that David and Katherine had brought for Christmas dinner.

All three sets of china that I bought long ago at thrift stores are usually too small for family gatherings. (The white with gold rims has 12 plates, the blue rimmed set has eight, and the pink roses has nine but with three now chipped.) So when most of us are here, I use the white dinnerware I bought for everyday use. (I’d bought two matching sets for twelve, I think, so despite some breakage, I still have plenty.) Since they’d only be eight at the table Sunday, I’d be able use the china with pink flowers.

That inspired me to search for the pink cloth napkins in the bottom of the hutch that I had not placed on the table in years since I am addicted to paper napkins for convenience. These were the napkins I bought at an after-Christmas sale at Marshall Fields in Chicago during Gerald’s and my engagement. I set some pretty tables with them in our early marriage years. Unfortunately, Sunday I did not have any blooms to place on the table as I did the first summer we were married when I used pink smart weed picked by our gravel road. But water in green goblets and slices of chocolate nut cheese cake from the freezer placed on desert dishes made an appealing table. Katherine and David had not been able to make it after all, so they had the meal taken to them for supper plates.

After they finished eating, the kids were soon back outside enjoying the cold but beautiful sunny weather. With Jake and Fifi either riding the Gator or running behind it, they were happily busy. They soon encountered and had fun with some neighbor kids from next door on a couple of four-wheelers. Later during a a brief re-entry to the house, Brianna brethlessly laughing told me they had a murder mystery game going in the nearby woods. All too soon Brian and Brianna had to head back to central Illinois, but Sam chose to stay at the farm with Cecelie, whose mother was coming up from Nashville. I was to spend the night at Katherine’s, so I took their supper in.

When her aide arrived at six the next morning, I quickly dressed and headed back to the farm although I had to stop for gas when that warning alarm went off. Even so, I arrived home before Jeannie was up, and we again visited over breakfast together before her bike ride. And I was able to visit more with Cecelie when she and Sam came up nearer noon as they enjoyed sleeping in.

I had lunch cooking in the oven, but Jeannie knew they needed to start on the long ride north since they were planning on meeting up with Elijah for supper in Bloomington where he has started his second semester at Illinois State. I sent his belated Valentine—a bag of chocolate kisses which I got for all three grandsons since I did not think they would like the little pink heart-shaped dispensers for note paper that Gerald had purchased for the granddaughters. It had been a good weekend and I hated to see it end. Jake did too, I imagine, since there were more meat scraps than usual with extra folk eating here.

Too Hot and Too Busy

Since I stay in air conditioned rooms most of the time, I should not complain about the 90 plus degree weather, so I won’t. I must complain about too many projects going at once and life not allowing me to finish one thing at a time. I have worked hard all week on various things and still stayed behind all week. That is why I have failed to blog.

I had not done anything this week that could be called recreation unless it was a little bit of reading and some research which I admit I consider fun. (My research is rarely original research. Mostly I find myself exploring other people’s research and sometimes my own to try and find an understanding of a subject.)

If anyone saw my book and paper-cluttered office, he/she would wonder how in the world I can get any work done in here. Me too. I love my roomy office hidden away in the back of our walk-out downstairs, but when a deadline for a presentation looms, I often find myself needing to spread out to the dining room table not only to have a clean surface for an over abundance of notebooks and papers but so I can keep an eye on whatever kitchen work I am involved with. Even with the proximity, I still may burn something as I divide my attention. (Of course, as an absent minded person, I can burn stuff even if I am not too busy.) Oh, if I must confess as I seem to be doing, I also have a pile of reading material to review in the living room too.

Geri Ann, our Georgia granddaughter, flew into St. Louis Thursday morning in order to o have a brief reunion with local friends and to attend the softball series between the National Pro Fastpitch USSSA Pride (with its former Olympians) and Diamonds at the Miners’ park. Her sister Erin and Erin’s boyfriend met her at the airport and brought her down.

So after the work week I’d had, I was delighted when Geri Ann and her friend CC Hutchinson (whom I don’t get to see often since Geri Ann moved to Georgia) and her cousin Sam came out to fish on the lake yesterday. I hurriedly fixed them a late lunch. I know I can always please my grandkids if I serve friend okra, and I thawed the remainder of the German chocolate cake from last week’s potluck that I had stuck in the freezer to keep from tempting Gerald and me. CC had never eaten fried okra, so she got initiated. (Since Gerald is cutting back his garden to mostly tomatoes and watermelon plants this summer, I don’t know what I am going to do when the okra in the freezer is gone. I guess I will have to check out local farmers markets.)

I was just as delighted when Erin hobbled in on her crutches to do some laundry. I had not been to see her since her ACL ordeal. I was reluctant to go by her place for fear she would be asleep or needing to go to sleep. I think I guessed right on that since she told me yesterday that she usually only gets four hours sleep until her meds wear off and she has to get up and ice her leg for awhile before she goes back in hopes of a second span of rest. I knew her cousin Sarah and her Gma Shirley and her boyfriend were in and out taking good care of her and seeing that she got to physical therapy when she couldn’t drive. I knew she would phone me if she needed me. This week she was able to drive short distances and began working some at the university again. Yet I know she is bound to be feeling pain.

Gerald was keeping Sadie so she would not jump on Erin, but the abundance of ticks here on the farm had us all worried despite the precautionary pill Sadie takes which keeps her tick-free in her own backyard where the tick population is evidently radically less than ours. So Gerald and Erin gave Sadie a bath, and she went home again with Erin, where she is often an inside dog unlike here. Hopefully she will sense that Erin can’t rough house with her and she’ll not be banished completely to the backyard.

Since CC left after the fishing to go to her grandmother’s, Gerald took Geri Ann and Sam to see the first softball game between USSSA Pride and the Diamonds. Erin sat in the handicapped section and was able to watch her old Texas A&M buddy Megan Gibson pitch again, and the Glasco fans were especially interested in the two University of Georgia alums—Brianna Hesson, who just graduated, and local standout Kristin Schnake of Nashville, IL. With Cat Osterman pitching for Pride, we were proud that Brianna got the only hit. Schnake, on the other hand, was hit by Osterman—twice.

I stayed home to continue working on a presentation coming up Wednesday for the Trail of Tears Institute this week at Vienna sponsored by Southern Illinois University Carbondale. A grant has enabled 12 local teachers to be chosen to help their students not only learn to use the Library of Congress primary sources but to study the Trail of Tears through Southern Illinois. When Sandy Boaz, president of the Illinois Chapter of the National Trail of Tears Association, was invited to have the Illinois TOT directors help with this project, she quickly accepted. Our TOT chapter has long hoped to increase the study in our schools of this historic event in our region and of the way our nation interacted with the people living here on the lands that eventually became the United States of America. This TOT study will provide a microcosm of this for these lucky students, and their knowledge of history, economics, politics, psychology, the depravity of humanity, and the goodness of humanity will be broadened. The teachers at the Institute will be from Pope, Johnson, and Union County where most of the 1838-39 TOT in Illinois took place. Joe Crabb will be telling about Pope County and Gary Hacker will share about Johnson on Wednesday. My responsibility will be to share about Union County and also the legend of Priscilla who was freed from slavery at Jonesboro.

There is so much information, misinformation, and twists and turns in this complicated story of the TOT that it is difficult to decide what would be most helpful to these teachers. I expect the dining room table will stay in service, and I have no hopes of straightening my office this week. And I may not blog again for another week. Now I need to go turn on the porch light because Dean and Lacey Newbold will be dropping Geri Ann off soon after tonight’s NPF game out at the Miners’ Rent One Park. Although he did do some ditch work at the other farm today, Gerald decided to stay in the air conditioning this evening and read about the games in tomorrow’s Southern Illinoisan.

Succeeding with Elijah, Cousins, and Buddies

Bouncing through the streets of Freeport in the pickup last night, I felt great waves of success as I listened to the constant giggles of the two young teens and one near-teen in the back seat. I think Gerald felt it also.

As the three cousins—Brianna, Sam, and Cecelie—planned and plotted, they were oblivious of their grandparents up front. We could have been miles away for all their awareness. They were in their cousins’ world, which started back at Jeannie and Rick’s house where we’d just had a delightful relaxed dinner with Mr. Higgens, their very special former neighbor who has meant so much to the Eiler family. The adults were at the dining room table, but those three and three others had filled their plates and were in the living room pleasantly occupied catching up with each others’ lives.

Elijah had left first for Jeannette Lloyd Theatre to prepare for the second night’s performance of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. Jeannie and Rick, Mary Ellen and Brian were all on their way too. Trenton, a senior like Elijah, was riding, I think, with his cousin Leslie, who had driven up all the from Nashville, Tennessee, to see her brother Elijah play the lead role of J. Pierrepont Finch. (She’d had a late dinner Thursday night with her cousin Erin in Southern Illinois and then spent the night at Sam’s house with her Aunt Katherine before she started the seven-hour drive upstate to her home town.) Mr. Higgens like some of the rest of us had already seen the Thursday night show.

As I heard all that excited backseat talk as we drove across town, I knew one of my life goals had been achieved. I wanted these grandkids to be close enough that in the years ahead if they happen to travel through Chicago or Podunk or New York or Hong Kong and they have a cousin there, they will feel free to phone (text?) and say they need a couch to sleep on and know they will be more than welcome.

After the usual outstanding performance by the Freeport High School drama students and orchestra, we relished seeing all the performers in the backstage hallway where traditionally family and friends meet up with their thespians. It was a homecoming, of course, for Leslie seeing old friends, but we were all pleased and proud to be waiting to congratulate Lige and cast for their fast-paced hilarious rendition of this highly successful 1961 musical that will be reprised on Broadway in February with Daniel Radcliffe as J. Pierrepont Finch.

We were happy to visit a bit with director Tim Connors, who amazes me at his skill in consistently producing challenging musicals and drama with large casts. Thursday night was fantastic, and I thought Friday night was even better. They surely could not be any better tonight. The shows were not just error free, but musically and artistically completely satisfying. Cameron Rockwell and Elijah were perfect foils for one another as ambitious competitors at the World Wide Wicket corporation. I had fun imaging how much fun Connors had figuring out what terrific synergy these talented two would create together.


Back at the Eilers, Rick got the fire going in the fireplace and Jeannie spread food out again for late night socializing before Gerald and I headed back to the Country Inn where Mary Ellen and Brian were also staying although they were up for a little later stay than we were. I suspect Jeannie and Rick had a very late night slumber party with all the cousins at their house. We have still not heard all about that yet because shortly after we picked up Sam at 7 this morning, he was sleeping soundly as we headed down to the middle of the state for him to reach his friend Josh’s birthday celebration.

Josh’s birthday and the Freeport musical unfortunately conflict each year. Last year Sam went to the musical and he was especially desiring to see this year’s since Elijah is a senior. Yet he naturally wanted to be with Josh and their buddies for this super birthday party which started with the Illinois-Minnesota football game. So we made plans to skip tonight’s performance and help Sam connect with the birthday gang. With text and phone messages, we managed to meet up with Josh’s mom and dad and their van load with surprising ease.

Watching these eighth grade boys happily and confidently take off walking to the stadium, I felt more waves of success that we had actually made it safely from the opposite ends of the state and realizing how near those kids are to not needing us any more. (I’ve heard from Katherine that they are all back to Josh’s house now for a sleep-over and birthday cake and the guys all loved the exciting game despite the Illini loss.) I also found myself admiring Kirsten and Chad’s bravery in hosting this extraordinary party providing these lucky kids with a memory for a lifetime.

We reached the farm with the hope they’d be a message saying our car was repaired. If so, we planned to take off to Cape Girardeau to retrieve it. (We’d been told it would done in three days, so we had expected to drive it to Freeport, not the pickup.) The only phone message we had was from our neighbors Winnie and Jay Payne telling us to let them know when we returned home because they had prepared fish ready to bring over to us. Too tired to go to the church Thanksgiving dinner, we had a wonderful fish sandwich for supper, watched some of the Georgia-Auburn game and caught up on two days’ newspapers and mail. We watched the slide show of all the photos Gerald took of the cousins and the rest of us, and as you might have guessed by now, I again felt great waves of success. We did not have a book like J. Pierrepont did to guide us and we tried really hard, and we had a very successful weekend.

Gotta Get Up in the Morning

I better not write long tonight, because morning will be here before I know it. No sleeping in this week as I usually do. The grandkids have been unusually good this year to go to bed early and not giggle too late. They are growing up. Of course, they are also tired from outdoor play, hiking around the lake, and all the activities they dream up. When they act bored, I try not to make suggestions. Then they come up with a plan.

For many years when they were small, I went to bed with them and we told stories to each other and tried to settle down that way. They don’t need that anymore.

The girls went over to Katie’s house next door this afternoon. It was really nice of her to invite them because she is extra busy not only with her daily swim lessons, but it is also 4-H show week. She will have to have her projects ready to be evaluated. Bri and Cecelie left Woodsong wearing amazing garbs with picture hats. I figure Katie was somewhat surprised. Elijah drove them over in the “mule.”

Sam had left Vacation Bible School with one of the teachers in order to be home in Marion for his trombone lesson, but his dad brought him back out to the farm afterwards. That gave Sam and Lige some afternoon man time together before they drove over in the “mule” and brought the girls back home.

I fixed a large meat loaf for supper, since our kids seem to like it. They were hungry I’m sure. After supper, there were more outside activities. In fact, I got nervous when they were out in the “mule” after dark. We hollered across the lake at each other and I had visions of their being stuck—but they were just having a good time and were ready to call it quits and come back to the house. More giggling and play acting.

They have been preparing a skit for the opening exercise each day since Elijah makes a great director as well as actor. (He should because there is not doubt that Freeport’s high school drama coach is one of the best in the state, so he has a mentor.) Lige did a good job explaining how to project your voice. When it gets really noisy, I might wish he hadn’t done so well.

That’s all folks. I am going to bed now.

Mid-Winter Mish Mash

One day the weather is Southern Illinois allows us to go coatless; and the next day when we try it, the wind makes us sorry. Today was pretty again although a jacket was in order.


Son-in-law Bryan and Brianna were down from Lake Saint Louis yesterday. Somehow Brianna and Sam ended up at the Illinois Centre Mall, where I spent the day with Southern Illinois Writers Guild members at our fourth annual Winter Book Fair. The mall sets up tables for us in the center section by the fountains, and we sell and sign books and SIWG anthologies while talking to mall strollers. It is always fun to table hop and visit with the other writers as well as talk with past and potential customers. With the economy like it is, no one expects to sell many books.


Brianna had been to the nearby movie theater with the older sister of Sam’s friend Josh. Not only do cousins from afar keep in touch by texting, but they meet and become friends with each other’s friends. Thus, Brianna came from Missouri and ended up at the movies in Illinois with Josh’s sister. Then Sam, who had been under the weather earlier in the day, was feeling better, so son-in-law David brought him out to meet Brianna to explore the mall until we wrapped up the Book Fair at 4 and they could ride out to Woodsong with me.


I needed to buy bananas to give us potassium, and we were out of grapes and getting low on oranges, so we ran by Kroger’s as I had planned and bought sandwiches from the deli there and gas for my near-empty car with our 15 cent discount on the Kroger credit card. Then Brianna, Sam, and I headed out to Woodsong, where Gerald and Brian were finishing up their afternoon projects.


We soon were eating the sandwiches and chips with ice cream and the cookies the kids chose for dessert. (I meant to send the rest of the chocolate milk and those cookies home with one grandchild or the other, so Gerald and I would not be tempted. However, in the concentration to get to Sunday School this morning, I forgot the cookies and milk, so maybe I can take them into Sam’s tomorrow or the next day.)


After helping teach our preschoolers during Sunday School, I stayed on for the extended session during worship. One of our high schoolers came in to help me. It pleases me when teens like Cody come in, because I can remember well many years ago when our son Gerry and his friend Tom were among the boys who helped with the babies and toddlers and preschoolers. Always under the direction of an adult, of course. What real training those sessions were for parenthood.


Worship must have been through hymns today and a little shorter than usual as our interim pastor became ill and had to go home before the service started. Cody said maybe it was a good thing he was not in the choir that long as he was tired. He had not slept well last night, so he got up and texted his friend over in Britain, where the sun was shining. Nevertheless, tired or not, he interacted with the children who keep us hopping.


Preschoolers crave watchful attention, and we give it. One-year-old Caleb delights himself when with intense concentration he learns to manipulate various toys or blocks. Then my heart melts when he looks up to make sure I am watching to admire his achievement. To know my watching means that much to him is as great a reward as our mutual handclapping when he gets the blocks stacked right or places the coin in the slot on the little toy farm barn that he gravitates to every Sunday.


After church, we headed down to the Old Home Place at Goreville to introduce the Taylors and Sam to Patrick and Tina’s new restaurant. Our meal was delicious but plentiful, so three take-home boxes were asked for. Sam left with Brian and Brianna for them to drop him off in Marion on their way back to Missouri.


Gerald wanted to check out an uncommon way back to the farm, so we wandered through country roads like Webb Town road, where we passed the Glen Webb Family Farm established in 1856, and on to roads with names like Wagon Creek Road and Creal Springs Road and finally back to Route 166 where we would turn off onto New Dennison Road and be home to check the softball scores.


The Georgia Dogs had had another good weekend with four shut-out victories in the Black and Red Showcase there at Athens. However, after winning a 14-inning game Wednesday at Huntsville, Texas, against Sam Houston and winning against them again on Friday in the opener at the Easton Tiger Classic at Baton Rouge, Texas A&M had a bad hair day yesterday losing to Ohio State and LSU. Then in bracket play today, they were ahead of LSU until the bottom of the sixth, when LSU rallied with three runs. A&M lost 3 to 4, so I know Vickie and Geri Ann left Louisiana with heavy hearts just as Erin did traveling back to College Station. But Coach Jo Evans was upbeat about all the things the girls did right.


With no church services tonight to allow our pastor to recuperate, we watched some TV, and I am reflecting early on the past week to write this blog. There was the trip up to Rend Lake College to the little restored school house on campus, where Lori Ragsdale had a reception to announce all the life-long learning opportunities coming up. I gave my pitch for our tour through Southern Illinois to revisit the Trail Where the Cherokee Cried. Since it was Lincoln’s birthday, Lori had arranged for Abe and Mary Lincoln performers to give a brief program too. Of course, I was also thinking about granddaughter Geri Ann's 15th birthday.


As always when I am passing by and have time, I pulled off at the Sesser exit at Whittington and visited the Southern Illinois Arts and Artisans Center. It truly is a visual buffet, and although I can’t afford the expensive art objects there, I like looking. I was able to pick up some books and items from the bargain table.


I stayed in Marion to attend Sam’s winter band concert, and before I headed home, I stopped off at Latta Java and was able to hear the last couple SIWG readers there.


Gerald had gone on an Angel Flight with his friend Herman Hood to Arkansas to pick up a patient in route to hospital treatments. I wasn’t sure if he would be at home when I returned or not. He had been playing with going down to Louisville, KY, to the annual farm show after the Angel Flight, but he was back at home asleep in his armchair watching television (ha) when I returned to Woodsong.


The next morning at 3:30 I woke up to see a wide-awake husband with his cap already on and a dance in his step as he scooped his change from the dresser and anticipated his adventure heading to Louisville. I wasn’t surprised, because I knew he really wanted to see all the new stuff that would be on display down there in the acres and acres under roof. I was surprised when he called before 6 that night and instead of staying all night in Louisville as he and his brothers’ custom was for years, he was already back in Illinois and heading home wanting to know if he should pick up supper in Harrisburg or would I like to celebrate with a Valentine’s dinner in Marion. I figured he must be tired, so I let him choose and soon we were eating a lovely dinner at my favorite restaurant in town.


It has been a good week with one afternoon spent studying Gary Hacker’s new book on the Trail of Tears through Johnson County and now several new books from Southern Illinois writers waiting for me to find time to read or at least skim through them. While I sat at the mall yesterday, I was able to read Joanne Blakely’s just published beautiful poetry chapbook. I certainly recommend it and Gary’s book.