Daffodils and Eating Humble Pie

Yesterday I was privileged to drive into town twice and observe the world turning beautiful. I always take the country road to town if I can, and so twice yesterday I passed by the special roadside filled with blooming daffodils in front of a woods. Every spring I enjoy them and love to wonder who the former resident was who planted them. I was sure long ago there was a house there and the farm wife planted a few of the bright yellow flowers to pleasure the end of winter.

Now they have spread to a wide area, and they spell spring to me. Since there was no house or living person anywhere near this spot on the road, I have felt free to park the car and pick a bouquet of the blossoms to place on the Easter dinner table or even one year to press and send one to a daughter living in far-off Tennessee who could not come home for Easter.

About a year ago, I began to notice a new road cutting through the woods behind the daffodils, and now there is a beautiful new house back there barely visible through the trees. I wonder if they bought this lot in the spring time because they too fell in love with the spread of the daffodils.

I may need to plant some bulbs of my own now. I have bought bulbs from school children before, but they were delivered late in the after-Thanksgiving rush and I never planted them. Gerald planted some here at Woodsong in a bed by the patio from an old house site far back on the farm, but they turned out to be double daffodils. He also planted some over on the island. From a distance, the yellow is pleasing, but I really like the traditional single daffodil for its grace.

The infundibuliform center surrounded by petals is so lovely to my eye. Why did I use the word “infundibuliform” instead of simply saying funnel-shaped? Well, I am just having fun and showing off. This is the 15th anniversary of Wordsmith.org, and this week they are sending us emails with words that have 15 letters. I did not even like this word and quickly deleted the email. But I just went into the delete file and rescued it.

Talking of things I don’t like, I did not like what happened to the Georgia Dogs today when they played Florida. Florida like Washington, whom the Dogs beat on Sunday, is rated #1. (There are more polls than one, and I am not sure which are in which poll.) Georgia’s Sunday win moved Georgia to 7th place in one poll and 8th in another.

And then we played Florida at Gainesville today and they beat us by the mercy rule with a score I am not going to report. Oh me. Oh my. Talk about eating humble pie. I am trying to digest it, but it does not taste good. We lost again 4-0 in the second game. That was better. I did not think that was such a bad score to play with the best in the nation. We will see how quickly our girls can shake this off and go back to having the mercy rule end games with them in the winner’s bracket.

August Blessings

We have been having delightful weather in Southern Illinois. High temperatures are so difficult on those with multiple sclerosis, so I have reason to appreciate more moderate temps. Hearing the news folk remind us one evening that it had been over l00 degrees on the same day a year ago made me doubly appreciate the cooler weather.

After he had been mowing the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) land around Woodsong, Gerald came in and invited me to ride behind him on the “mule” to enjoy how pretty some of the back fields are right now. There are meadows of native grasses blowing in the breeze separated by the mowed areas for water run off. Last year he was excited about the partridge peas, but because of early weather and rain conditions, they are less abundant this year than last. Yet especially at the edges of the native grass patches, we do see a good many of the pretty lacy green plants with bright yellow blossoms.

The star of the field this year, however, is a plant I had never heard of before—bundle flowers. Brown has always been a favorite color of mine, although I like bright colors too. The bundle flowers are little brown balls or bundles filled with seeds that will drop to the ground soon and be there for bird food. We frequently see quail around the farm now and are grateful for their come back.

The garden is producing not just zucchini but enough acorn squash to even give away although there is only one acorn squash plant. It was accidentally bought by Gerald as it was mixed in with the zucchini. Most autumns I buy an acorn squash or two and one bright turban squash to create a centerpiece with other veggies. Then before the Christmas season, I cook them. But we had never grown acorn squash before, and we have really enjoyed this addition to our summer menus. We are also enjoying fresh tomatoes and okra.

The women in our church enjoyed a wonderful repast at Charlene’s on Monday night, and just when we thought it could not be any better, she brought out fresh peach cobbler. We have been able to get local peaches at our Kroger store, and many of our August meals have ended with a peach or a dish of sliced peaches.

Gerald came in tired tonight from his travel on an Angel Flight with his pilot friend Herman. However, he was feeling good at seeing a two-year-old and his grandmother transported to receive care for the little boy's legs which had been burned in an accident. Gerald loves to fly and to experience the amazement of going over so much territory in a short time. Since they had been delayed by the lateness of the flight that brought the duo from Cleveland, they had only returned to Marion in time to eat “lunch” at supper time. So just as I entered the kitchen, to cook a bite, Gerald said he had already eaten. So I was blessed with extra time to start reading When Lincoln Came to Egypt by Professor George Washington Smith originally published in 1940 and then republished by Gordon Pruett in 1993. I finished the introductory essay by John Y. Simon, one of our area’s outstanding historians who died this July. With my hometown of Jonesboro preparing for the sesquicentennial of the Lincoln-Douglas 1858 debate, I thought it was a good time to read the book.

I picked this book up at our village library when I returned William Keller’s History of Jonesboro, From 1803 to 1899. I grew up with Bill, who was just a year older than his cousin and my friend Shirley and I. Although I knew he was employed at the historical society in Springfield, I did not realize until after his death how much research and writing he had done. One of my deep regrets was that I did not take advantage of reconnecting with him after he retired in Jonesboro. I am sure that he had many answers to much that I want to know about the town.

I had a difficult time getting this book (Bill’s thesis for his master’s degree at SIU in 1956.) because it had been checked out earlier from the SIUC Special Collections. Naturally it finally arrived when I was busy with other projects (like shredding zucchini). Since it could not be renewed and had to be back by in the morning, I was glad Gerald was on the Angel Flight and I could read through the lunch hour and finish reading and taking the notes I wanted.

Garden Vegetables, Glycemic Index, and Shaking on Salt

Gerald was explaining to me this morning what glycemic index is all about. Interestingly, the desirability of some food items on the index conflicts with previous information given to us by dietitians in the past. GRRR.

For someone like me, who does not like change, trying to absorb the new information is as aggravating as trying to remember what in the world our bank calls itself now. After much effort a couple of years ago, Gerald shifted to skim milk at the dietitian’s request. Now this new information says that whole milk will cause fewer changes in blood sugar or something like that. GRRRR.

The only good thing is that fresh garden vegetables are still highly recommended—and thanks to our neighbor Scott’s garden and Gerald’s, we are enjoying lots of those right now. I had been trying to buy frozen veggies as opposed to canned since the canned has salt added. Fresh, of course, are even better. (I still would like to add salt while cooking them, but people at our table will just have to use the shaker and do that themselves.) Since the younger grandkids, who have just left, seldom touch the veggies anyhow—except for Scott’s sweet corn—that has not been a problem.

We have had three messes of okra to fix in the microwave. (Yes, of course, we like fried okra better--especially the grandkids.) I fixed a huge pot of green beans that Scott and Sonja sent over—and Gerald broke them for us. (No, I did not add bacon for seasoning. They were still delicious.) We have had our first zucchini casserole. (Yes, I would love to make zucchini bread, but until we have guests to eat it, I won’t.) We have had tiny fresh tomatoes for two meals now. (We did not have to worry about salmonella.)

One of our most interesting new vegetables is a squash that Gerald accidentally bought that must have been mixed in with the zucchini plants he purchased. I guess it is an orange acorn squash—which I did not excited as I thought they were all dark green. . I have just halved them, scooped out the insides, and placed them upside down on a plate and put them in the microwave. I even eat the skins. (Yes, I am sure they would taste even better with salt, butter, and perhaps brown sugar. But they are good plain, and certainly simple to fix the healthy way.)

Gerald moved his garden this summer in hopes of getting rid of a wilt disease we had, but he thinks it has moved with him. The Japanese beetles are visiting our trees on the lawn, but I haven’t heard yet if they are bothering the garden. We had been getting generous rain, but right now we are somewhat dry. Nevertheless, we are blessed with great vegetables that make our diet in line with a healthy glycemic index. (Yes, I would like to never have to think about glycemic index on top of worrying about calories, vein-clogging fats, salt, Vitamin K dangers, and whatever the dietitians discover next to dazzle us with.)

Fifi's Loaning Me Her Rubber Chicken

My three-week search for a rubber chicken for VBS has been successful. Brianna told me Sunday afternoon that Fifi has a rubber chicken. I called Mary Ellen the next day to double check and told her to ask Fifi if I could borrow it. Everyone agreed Fifi said yes. Brianna said Fifi didn’t like the old thing anyway. Now if the Taylor household can locate Fifi’s rubber chicken and not forget to bring it down to Woodsong, I have escaped the dreaded thought that I was supposed to spend $l0 on one. (I had decided as a matter of principal that I would not, but I had not been able to think of another way to pull off the on-going gag each day about the safety of the captain’s pet parrot.)

The called-for colorful ten-foot “parachute” was neatly packaged and delivered to my front porch today while I was away. I have never played with a pretend parachute before, so I have to learn how to explain to the children how to rolls balls around on it and flip them off. Kim coached me tonight. (I still better read those suggestions in my leader’s book again.) Probably some of the kids have already done this and can teach me.

In the same box was my copy of The Cherokee Trail of Tears by photographer David Fitzgerald and with text by Duane King. I had just finished reading Marilyn Schild’s copy she loaned me, and it was so beautiful that I had to add it to my TOT books. I wish I had time to sit down and read it again.

Sonja filled the side of our garage with inflated animals yesterday while I was gone, and tonight I hauled them to a storage room at church. My back seat was filled with sharks, whales, a sea horse, a flamingo, and other air-stuffed objects to use in and around the tropical island I am supposed to create for our games. These are joining the stuffed cat that Charlene has loaned me and the monkeys from Samuel’s house.

The dining room table is still covered with boxes, papers, and the things I had laminated yesterday for the children to use. Tomorrow will be my first day at home this week, so I will need to finalize plans and make efforts to clear that table before grandkids start arriving.

We were saddened when our crop of seven ducklings quickly reduced to three. Gerald was somewhat comforted, however, by getting to see a nest full of baby quail make an appearance.

The ducks and geese cross our lane all day long going to the wheat field for the grain left behind after Scott combined it. Something about an approaching car causes them to want to go from whichever side of the lane they are on to the other side. I slow down and talk to them as I wait. I talk sweet when I am feeling patient. When I am not, I tell them to get off the road. They don’t act like they hear me. Reckon they have bird brains?

We received a gentle half inch rain last night and another during the day today while Gerald and I were both off the farm. As I went in and out of stores this afternoon, the rain wasn't good for the new perm I got this morning, but Gerald says this is just the right time for Brian’s pollinating corn.

Soybeans Are Planted! Spring Activities in Full Swing!

Brian planted soybeans on Monday. We had T-bones at our house that night to celebrate. I made Brian a cake, and I took the remains to our daughter’s house today to get it away from here. Granddaughter Geri Ann and her cousin Lex were graduated from 8th grade last night at Johnston City, and families of both kids were there to cheer for them. In fact the high school gym was packed with students’ admiring loved ones. Baby boy and baby girl gifts are laid out on the dining room table to be wrapped for a shower and for a welcoming visit for new babies. Spring is in full swing, and now that the rains have stopped, the weather and the scenery are delightful.

The 8th grade graduates at Johnston City were all dressed in jeans or jeans skirts with matching class T shirts. I think that was the class members’ names on back. What a great idea! Nobody had to wreck the family budget nor waste time shopping to buy new suits or dresses. The excitement of high school graduation with the robes and mortarboards will not be diluted by having worn them at the end of grade school. There were lots of awards and recognitions for these youngsters—proof that they had worked hard and achieved much.

Not only was Brian able to plant soybeans, people here were finally able to start working on their gardens, flower beds, and lawns this week. I dug up some day lilies that had almost been destroyed by grass mixing in with them. They had been mulched, but I did not know to lay down plastic beneath the mulch. Consequently, some clumps had grass come up and mix with the lily.

When the plants were young, I wasn’t able to distinguish between the lily shoots and the grass stems. By the time both plants developed, I was not strong enough to separate the grass and pull it up. This had gone on for a couple of years now, so some clumps of day lilies were in bad shape. Finally this week I dug up the invaded clumps and separated the grass and replanted the lilies. I am watering them and hoping they grow quickly to make my line of lilies uniform.

The same neighbors who gave us the day lilies also brought us iris to plant that they had dug up from a family farm up north. That flower bed is truly beautiful right now with the large purple blooms blowing in the breeze. Gerald and I planted three new rose bushes last week, and the three planted last spring are perfuming the air already.

It is a good time to work outside and get dirt under the fingernails. It is not too cold nor yet too hot. It is also refreshing to bring out the spring clothing and start putting away the heavier clothes. Spring events make us want to dress up a bit. Who cares if the bleach only partly cures my work-damaged hands?

A Country Day at Woodsong

The sound of tractors in nearby fields has come into the house all day. Farmers are hard at work getting the soil ready for planting. Our son-in-law Brian finished his corn planting up at Wayside Farm on Saturday.

Gerald was helping the men involved with burning off our native grasses at Woodsong this morning as the law requires. Today was the deadline, and finally it was not raining so the job was completed. Those fields are black now, but soon new growth well green them up again. A distant neighbor Gayla had observed all the smoke and phoned to see if she and her husband could look for deer antlers in the burned off areas. She and Mary Ellen were classmates in the Crab Orchard Class of 1981, so it was good to visit with her a few minutes.

As soon as noon-time dinner was over, Gerald was back outside to help our neighbor Scott with disking. Occasionally working part-time for Scott has added interest to Gerald’s retirement as well as to his finances.

He quit in time to come in to watch Erin’s game on television. I scrambled eggs and carried down our supper to the family room, so we could watch on the bigger screen there. Winning this game cinched the Big 12 Championship for Texas A&M, so it was an important game. Being able to watch it on TV was much more fun than using game tracker and an audio account.

It was fun seeing Gerry and the other fathers cheering wildly when we got our home run that put us ahead in a tied-up game. I am sure it was just as fun for their fans when University of Texas made their homerun. It was delightful for us to see Erin pick-off a runner to prevent scoring again and hearing the announcers praise her throughout the game.

After the game, coming into the computer for a final check on the day’s emails brought a welcome forward from a friend. The forward was New York Times sports writer George Vecsay telling about a senior for Western Oregon getting her first home run in her college career. That would have been a neat experience, but how she got it was indeed an incredible story as the email promised.

Sara Tucholsky thought she had hit a three-run homer against Central Washington when she hit the ball over the fence. She was not used to that and watched in awe as the ball soared. However, she missed first base and turned back to touch the bag. The turn must have torn her knee ligament and she collapsed. She had to crawl to the base crying and unable to get up. Her coach knew if any of her teammates touched Sara, automatically she would not be able to advance. The umpires ruled that Sara must touch all the bases or she would be credited with a two-run single.

That is when the incredible happened. Central Washington’s first baseman Mallory Holtman politely asked the umpires if it would be okay if she and a teammate carried Sara around the bases. The umpires considered and gave permission. Mallory and shortstop Liz Wallace lifted her onto their crossed arms and carried her around lowering her to touch each base. Sara got her three-run homer to finish her senior-year career, and Mallory and Liz got a standing ovation from an emotional cheering crowd laughing and crying at the same time. I shed a few tears just reading about it.

How Green Are My Valleys, Hills, and Lawn

Wherever we look out-of-doors right now, we see green. Gerald says the intense green we are enjoying is partly the result of the nitrogen in the late winter’s snows and rains. As tired as we are of rain, it is pleasant to think of the benefits.

Earthquakes have been the topic of much conversation in our area lately. I felt the first one at 4:38 last Friday morning, and I learned later I had done the correct thing by staying in bed. I was too sleepy to do anything else. Although there have been several, I have not felt the after shocks since. I was in the laundry room at my daughter’s when the second shake came. She was in adjoining room and felt it. I guess I assumed it was the washer-dryer shaking the house and did not notice it.

I learned at our women’s meeting at Shirley Butler’s on Monday that some of our Coal Valley Water customers had been without water since last Friday. Shirley had seen and heard the repair work going on near her home the previous evening, so her first reaction to the quake was thinking it was the water department still working.

Unfortunately, the quake evidently made the water problems intensify in that region of our water district. (We seem to have been immune to the problems here on the west side of the district.) Workers are trying hard to get all the breakages fixed. Most people had water back on fairly quickly, but not all. Some people are going to friends and relatives to take showers.

When the water was turned on for our friend Jo, the pressure was so great that it broke the pipes beneath her house. She was blessed to have her son Scott willing and able to crawl under the house and repair the messy muddy leak there. Next door, Kim said when she ran her washer, the pressure causes huge scary noises making her hope their pipes don’t break. Scott isn’t eager to do a second repair job.

Our son-in-law was down over the weekend and early part of this week to start farming. The tiling job last fall was a real help this spring when these heavy rains came. Brian joined us for supper Friday night when our granddaughter Leslie and friend Veronica Tolbert from Freeport stopped off on their way down to Nashville, Tennessee, to visit the national college speech events being held there on Saturday. We didn’t get the return trip stop because there was a boyfriend waiting in Charleston. Ah well.

Our big weekend entertainment was listening to Texas A&M’s two home games. We did the same tonight when they played a non-conference game against Texas State. What a night freshman pitcher Rhiannon Kliesing had. After a week off the mound, she pitched her first no-hitter of the season, and despite no recent opportunities to bat, she made her first home run of the season.

It is pitch dark outside. After this game, Gerald is out there mowing that intensely green grass. It is hard to keep up with right now, and he had to be away all day.

Sunny Spring Days Are So Welcome

While the pear trees’ blossoms have blown away, the redbuds in yards and roadsides have burst into full bloom. The daffodils are fading, but the paperwhites are in their glory. Soon the dogwood will join the redbud. Gerald has daffodils, hyacinths, paperwhites, and tulips all blowing in the wind and adding color to his new welcoming flower bed at the top edge of our retaining wall.

It is a glorious time of the year on a day like today. The sun was shining and a light jacket was all one needed to be comfortable in the pleasant breezes. Since Gerald was going to Kentucky with his brother for the butchered beef, I assumed they’d be away at lunch as they were last week. Instead they left early this morning to enjoy breakfast together before they picked up the frozen beef and had to hurry home. I had made plans to spend the morning with our daughter in town and go to lunch with a friend, so I hurriedly fixed something for Gerald to eat when he returned for lunch.

After a delightful afternoon visiting after lunch at the friend’s house, I made a final stop back by my daughter’s and was privileged to hear Samuel tell about his Longfellow School field trip to at Art Day at Southern Illinois University Carbondale. He liked seeing the glassblowing and the pottery making, but the blacksmithing was his favorite.

When I arrived back home, Gerald was already listening to Erin’s game at Oklahoma State. Gerry had driven all night long to get to Stillwater for this double header that Gerald had wanted to go to in the worst way. We went there ranked fourth in the nation. Unfortunately, tonight after eleven straight victories in the Big 12 Conference, Texas A&M lost their first conference game to the Cowgirls 6-5. But Gerry got to see Erin go three for three in the first game and have a fourth hit in the second game, which the the Aggies won. Of course, we are still first in the conference. Between the games, Gerald and I ate a hurried bowl of chili in the kitchen and then had a cup of yogurt for dessert as we watched the second game.

I spent a while reading emails and thinking about tomorrow night’s Writers Guild meeting. Allison Joseph spoke to us five years ago, and I have always considered that one of our finest programs. She will be with us again tomorrow night. Here is the news release I sent out as program chair:

Poet and Associate Professor Allison Joseph has carried a love of language from the Bronx to Southern Illinois University Carbondale while earning degrees, fellowships, and numerous poetry awards. She will share experiences and expertise she has gained at Southern Illinois Writers Guild on Thursday, April 17, at 7 p.m. in the Terrace Dining Room Annex at John A. Logan College. The public is invited.

What Keeps Us Here published by Ampersand in 1992 brought her the John C. Zacharis First Book Prize. Four more books have continued her success: Soul Train published by Carnegie Mellon in 1997, In Every Seam by University of Pittsburgh Press in 1997, Imitation of Life by Carnegie Mellon in 2003, and Worldly Pleasures by Word Press in 2004.

Born in London of Caribbean heritage, she grew up in a Bronx neighborhood she often has written about. Influenced by the late Illinois poet laureate Gwendolyn Brooks and a story teller like her father, she often writes free verse as she tells brutally honest narratives with remarkable human insight that are sometimes autobiographical and sometimes imaginative. She also writes fiction.

Perhaps New York’s poets-in-the-schools program along with the writing she did at Bronx High School of Science inspired her to start the Young Writers Workshop at SIUC in 1999. The creative writing faculty and graduate students are used in this effort and offers a four-day residential summer program that draws high school students from both in and out of the area.

Holding the Judge William Holmes Cook Endowed Professorship, her many honors have included fellowships from the Illinois Arts Council and Bread Loaf and Sewanee Writers Conferences. In 2003 alone, she received six prizes. More recently she was awarded $5,000 for her poems “Cartography” and “Emergency Librarian” in the 2006 Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry Competition and then received a second Artists Fellowship in Poetry in 2007 from the Illinois Arts Council for $7,000. She is the editor and the poetry editor of Crab Orchard Review, an international literary journal of SIUC.

She was graduated from Kenyon College in 1988 and was awarded a Master of Fine Arts from the University of Indiana in 1992. She taught two years at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock before coming to SIUC.
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Springtime Beauty in Egypt

In the spring, I feel nothing could be more beautiful than what we enjoy in Southern Illinois. Of course, I feel the same way in the fall. If you are from Southern Illinois, you understand the title of this blog because you know that our region has long been called Egypt. Some call the area Little Egypt, and there are heated objections among the purists as to that little word.

Others of us differ whether we should write southern Illinois or Southern Illinois. As a former English teacher, I would say that southern Illinois is correct. As someone who loves the area and sees it as a very distinct entity, I choose to write Southern Illinois. We are also sometimes called The Land Between the Rivers or River Region. Whatever we are called, we have four seasons, which is one of the reasons I wanted to live out my life in the region of my birth. Like most people living here, my favorites are spring and fall.

Right now I am intent on enjoying spring. (I can barely resist capitalizing spring. I just checked the Associated Press stylebook on my desk, and I was correct not to capitalize a season. And yet I almost went back and capitalized Spring and Fall anyhow! For me this season brings the emotions that call for capital letters and exclamation points.)

Gerald’s brother Keith and nephew Tim have grown beef for our freezers, and Gerald and Keith took them down to Kentucky recently to have them butchered there by an Amish butchering shop. Monday they will go bring back the processed beef. This is the first time in a few years since we have purchased a beef. So yesterday my friend Linda came and helped me defrost the freezer in our garage to get ready for this abundance.

Yesterday was a great day to do this task since it was not miserably cold, and yet it was cool enough that I didn’t worry as we emptied the freezer contents into tubs and buckets and covered them with blankets while we did the defrosting and cleaning work. At the other farm house, my daughters used to be enlisted to help me do this job. I don’t want to waste much time lest foods start to thaw. At that house, the freezer in the laundry room was right next to the children’s bathroom, and we could store the frozen foods in the bathtub and cover with blankets while we cleaned.

A few bits and pieces of previous meals that I had saved when my thriftiness was in overdrive had to be thrown out. Quite a few items I’d saved and forgotten were placed in the refrigerator to be eaten in yesterday and today’s meals. I thawed a beef roast and prepared it today since we will be getting this new supply Monday.

I would be lying if I did not admit that I feel smug every time I pass the freezer and imagine all that nice clean empty space inside thanks to all the sorting and rearranging we accomplished.

With the lovely weather, I have also made a start at cleaning out the flower beds—something that did not get done last fall. I have carried away four bags of leaves, weeds, and dead plants to add to the organic material out in the field. Gerald has rolled the lawn and mowed it for the first time. The beautiful green is so intense that the many blossoms on trees and flowers give a welcome relief. There is still work to be done, and if the predicted rain comes tomorrow, that will be the end of working in the yard for awhile.

Maybe that will help me get to the bills and letter writing duties awaiting me on my kitchen desk.

Returning to Everyday Life

Note: Trying the 6th time to get the following posted. This was written before midnight last night right on the Wednesday schedule. Although blogger says it is published, it does not show up on Woodsong Notes. I hope it does this time.

Monday Gerald had to make-up the income tax appointment he missed last week with Doug Hileman. Between the time change making him lose track of time and the appointment taking longer than he expected, he didn’t make it home in time to go to Geri Ann’s volleyball game with me. Since he couldn’t make the game and he was already in Union County, he ran by Keith and Barbara’s. Yesterday he ran by Opal’s, and in the afternoon he attended the Johnston City softball game against my alma mater Anna-Jonesboro. This time I couldn’t go because I was giving the devotional at our class meeting at Sharon Odom’s at 6:30.

Today he and Keith went to Amish country across the Ohio River near Marion, Kentucky. It is a good thing they went today because the river is rising again, and the ferry is expected to close.

Keith has a beef ready for us to butcher, and they were looking for the man who had butchered for us years ago. We have been buying beef from the grocery store for a number of years now, so it will be good to have the freezer full again. While they were there, they ran by the farms of friends John and Barbara Beachey and Lester Stutzman.

They were impressed with young Ben Beachey’s harness making, and Gerald just had to have one of the belts he makes. Back at Woodsong, Gerald proudly placed a jar of freshly made maple syrup that John gave him and a jar of sugar-free blackberry jam that he said the school teacher made. I need to ask him more about that tomorrow.

Before supper, he already had a photo developed of a farmer with his plow pulled by three sturdy work horses. After supper, I watched a slide show of the river, an eagle’s nest with a eagle head poking out of it, a horse-drawn buggy, and of course a rerun of pictures of the grandchildren and family gatherings.

Sympathy cards line the fireplace mantel, and the remaining siblings are keeping in touch by phone as they resume a new phase of life without their brother.

Whoops! Life A Mite Out of Control?

Oh dear. I did not think I'd have any trouble writing on here this Wednesday. But I almost forgot again. At least we do have electricity this week! We probably missed Geri Ann's volleyball game because we do not have a schedule. She and her mother have been out of town going to Erin's games in Tempe last weekend, and we haven't connected as usual.

Gerald and I were still at the supper table when Gerry called from the Yucatan about Erin's games. We had forgotten that schedule also. I can't seem to keep up with things. They had already won their first game in a double header against Stephen F. Austin when Gerry phoned. So I left the messy kitchen, and we hurried to Gerald's computer to listen to the second game. We were certainly glad we did because we got to hear Erin hit her first homerun for Texas A&M! Exciting. It must have been quite a hit because the announcers were excited that the ball hit the new scoreboard--a first. CoachJo Evans said in the after-game interview that Erin initiated the scoreboard, which had been up three years.

I do have the kitchen cleaned now. And then after email exchanges about the game, I wrote a sad email catching the kids up on the news about their Uncle Ken, who went to Barnes yesterday and came home the same day. The doctor had changed his mind about giving Ken another bone marrow test and more chemo.

Last night I had barely gotten home from a long day in town including Wal-Mart, my least favorite place to have to go, and I had fixed Gerald a nice supper since he had fixed his own lunch. Again I was starting to clean the kitchen, when my friend Linda called. We were talking about plans for the rest of the week, and I said, "Well, let's see. Today is Tuesday." At that moment (7:05), I realized I was supposed to be leading singing at our class meeting at Imogene Graves' house. I had the song books in the car. But an over-crowded day had crowded that part of the day's agenda from my mind.

Imogene had prepared for us twice last week and because of the ice had to cancel both times. I felt terrible I had forgotten this the third time she had prepared for us. So with hair awry and kitchen in shambles, I jumped in the car and was there by 7:15. Fortunately, I got out of having to lead singing. I got there in time for prayer (which I was needing) and a very good devotional by Charlene Morris.

After our business meeting, we gathered at the table in Imogene's pretty kitchen/dining room alight with red berries and bright red accessories everywhere. She had prepared us a feast, and I am ashamed to say I ate a second supper, but I enjoyed every bite. Then after more sandwiches and the delicious cheese ball and candy had been passed around again (no, I didn't take seconds or candy), she and daughter Shirley served us Imogene's famous strawberry pie. Of course, I could not turn it down. It was sumptious as always.

As good as the food was, the fellowship was better. Perhaps we'd all been housebound too long the week before struggling against nature's unkindness. Maybe it was our sated appetites, but as stories and tales were told, we laughed more than I have laughed in years. I needed that. Now we are looking at weather predictions of another ice storm making tomorrow's doctors appointments and tomorrow night's carefully planned Writers Guild meeting problematic. I am sure I am better able to face tomorrow after such a good time last night.

Now, I better quit writing and go do my knee exercises. As of Monday, I started doing them twice a day. I think I can already feel some difference in my stability.

A Den for Christmas--Maybe

We’ve been to two middle school girls basketball games this week. Tonight we hurried back to pick up a prescription waiting at the pharmacy at Kroger’s. We weren’t sure it would be open, but we got there a minute or two before nine and were happy to see lights through the drive-in window. Interestingly, the sign in the window showed new closing hour as 10 p.m. We needn’t have hurried.



While we were feeling so buoyed up by our success, Gerald thought we might as well run out to another store as he needed a piece to finish up a project he has been working on. Our luck ran out there, however, as the workers had just locked up. Had we known the pharmacy was open until 10, we could have gone there first.



When we moved into this house in six years ago, we had a passel of little grandkids. After Gerald put in an outside shop building at the last minute, the area in the walk-out downstairs with a garage door that was intended for a shop was not needed for that. I immediately designated it the “art room” and put in an unpainted wooden door held up by a couple of unused low end tables. Surrounding it with small plastic chairs, the kids had plenty of room to draw or paint or cut or whatever messy idea they chose. The concrete floor could not be hurt. An extra fridge and a popcorn table was there for sodas and snacks.



The kids loved going there for many made-up games and projects. Although there is a tiny TV left over from someone’s dorm room or something, I don’t think the kids ever turned it on. They had written and colored all over the unfinished door; and when they finally got too tall for it, I still had a 13-year-old disappointed when he discovered it gone.



We had given an old kitchen table to a daughter, who no longer needed it. While remodeling their house, someone had broken off a leg. We took it back thinking Gerald could repair it and we could donate it to the Household Give-Away that the Marion Ministerial Association runs. Stuff is stored for those who need it at Community of Christ Church.



However, when we realized the low door needed to be replaced with a taller table, that repaired kitchen table was the answer. Adult chairs were substituted for the little red plastic ones. (Aidan found them and enjoyed them at Thanksgiving.) The growing kids continued to congregate in their special place.



With various electronic games becoming important to them, more and more they were hooking onto the family room TV with cords and junk all over the floor to trip the unwary. Their desire to watch the Disney Channel (not available on the little TV in the art room) competed with the fathers’ desire to watch ballgames. We had a problem. The youngsters had outgrown the “art room” although they still claimed it and used it. I decided we needed a teenagers’ den in there.



On one wall of this room, there was a wire shelf left over from the garage. Clothes could be hung underneath. That had gradually filled up with hunting clothes and old coats and sweaters for the occasional time kids might unexpectedly need a warm garment when they ran outside. Then I moved a bunch of “junk clothes” out of another closet so the kids could have “costumes” for the skits they sometimes create. Before I had time to act on the den project, that overloaded shelf fell down depositing a wall full of garments all over the floor. I piled them on the table and the “art room” was out of commission.



Since obviously the first clothes rack had failed, Gerald and I began to shop for more substantial closet equipment to put on that wall . After his lugging heavy boxes of pressed wood closets to the truck and then into the house, he started to put them together during the World Series only to find the first box did not contain the correct amount of hardware.



All those heavy boxes had to be returned. Actually, they had to be returned twice. The first time Gerald had to bring them back home for two weeks because I had written a check instead of using a credit card. While we waited, he came up with the idea of using extra paneling left over from the house to build closets on that wall. In addition to all his regular duties, he has been working on building the closets. It looks great and oddly makes the room look larger even though this takes up an extra 32 inches with its depth. The doors still must be varnished.



In the middle of the two closets is a place for the heavy family room TV. It will be a job to move it, and we will have to have a new one for the sports viewing. Now Gerald has a wiring job to complete. If we can get the TV in the “den” hooked up for Disney Channel, the kids can watch or use their electronic games even while the men claim the family room. We hope to have this part of the project completed by the holidays. May not happen. We will see.



I have yet to think through the rest of what I am going to do to make this a teenager gathering spot--either move in an old couch from another room for TV watching or maybe buy a couch. I won’t have to do much to make the kids happy if they can have a place they can call their own with the TV that Gpa will be providing.

Blessings and Troubles Then and Now

Sadly Gerald lost another cousin--his second this year. So tonight we went to Anna for the visitation for his cousin Clarence Lee Glasco. We again saw many of his relatives, who had also been at the funeral for his cousin Charlene Givens. Cousin Wilma, who was so ill at her sister’s funeral, had recovered from her cancer surgery and looked great. She had been helping and sitting with Clarence during his illness, in fact.

A problematic fact of modern life is that we often only see relatives at funerals and weddings. Yet in the early part of the last century, people who lived as far away as Marion is from Anna would probably not have been able to make the trip to a cousin’s funeral visitation. Despite the high gas prices, most of today’s population can afford such trips now more than people could a century ago in Southern Illinois when travel was mostly by horse-drawn vehicles or trains. Trips to area towns often took the entire day if one did not go by train.

However, we should not forget that there remains too large a percentage of us who cannot travel freely today. Not just because of the price of gas, but because many cannot afford a car in the first place. When I worked with families in this area, one of the first problems I ran into was that single mothers usually did not have a car. Without a car, it often was impossible for them to find a job. Few jobs exist here within walking distance.

Often worse were the problems that owners of a car ran into when the car had problems. It seemed to me that an ancient-looking car with a tail light out invariably was stopped for a ticket. For a single mother on a tight budget, a ticket could spell total disaster for her family’s hope of getting out of crisis. I was never sure what could be done to lessen these problems, but certainly good public transportation, such as the trains that used to be available, would help.

When I drive through the cluster of houses that make up the village of New Dennison near our farm, I almost always think that here was once a railroad center. People caught rides from there to Marion and Carbondale. The late Marguerite Lashley, who had returned to live in her childhood home there, told me how her physician father would pick up the Presbyterian pastor who rode the train over from Carbondale to New Dennison. The doctor’s family in their horse and buggy would take the preacher on to Shed Church. Then the family would return for the Sunday dinner Marguerite‘s mother prepared, and the pastor would catch a train back to Carbondale.

Not only do we lack that convenient public transportation today, but we endure dangers these early citizens did not. On our way to Anna on Route 146, Gerald braked rapidly when a large buck started to cross in front of us. Fortunately, the buck turned. No one was behind us, and Gerald thought he could have missed him if he’d continued. We were glad we did have to find out. His cousin Barbara Houseman had just driven in from a meeting in Springfield and told me she left tire marks on Route 127 coming to the funeral home. Her deer was standing in the middle of the highway. Since November is the month that most highway deaths in Illinois are caused by the deer, two Glasco cousins were blessed with escapes tonight.

After the visitation, we went with Gerald’s brothers Keith and Garry and our sister-in-law Ginger along with nephew DuWayne and wife Vickie to the local restaurant we used to call Dino’s. There we all enjoyed supper together and had the opportunity to visit and still drive home for an early bedtime if I had chosen to go to bed instead of write this blog.

And though we were watching closely, we did not see a single deer coming back to the farm. I hope the hunters see them this weekend. Then their families will have venison for the winter stored in their freezers for hearty meals that few families could have enjoyed in 1907.

Going to the Mail Box....

Going to the mail box has always been a big deal for a farm family. I remember the joy of walking to the Goreville mailbox as a child when we spent summers at Mount Airy Farm. Dust would splash up from the road on my bare feet and as high as my knees as I walked the long lane to await our mail carrier D.P. Jones. It was fun to plop and see how high I could make the dust rise.

If he had not already deposited the mail and gone on, there would be a friendly word or two from Mr. Jones. It was a very good break in the day. In addition to the newspaper, sometimes there were letters from my mother’s sisters or from my girl friend Bobbie Jo. Occasionally there were books that Daddy ordered from the state library system for us to read.

Later as a farm wife, I enjoyed getting long letters from former classmates or friends from other places we'd lived. When our kids went off to college and careers, I would look forward to their letters and photos of their new experiences. Now, however, they write us emails. That is good. But it diminishes the importance of the mailbox. With people writing fewer and fewer personal letters these days, it is nice to have a reason to check the mail for something other than bills and junk mail.

One of the good things about being a writer is that you have a reason to look forward to receiving mail. If you have sent out a manuscript, there is always the possibility that the post person will bring you an acceptance. Of course, too often what is brought is one more rejection letter. But the heart always hopes for good news. And the excitement of that daily drama of what the mail will bring is definitely a pleasant plus in the isolated life of writer.

Because Gerald has been serving as treasurer for our college-era Baptist Student Union group, we have been getting lots of letters back saying that people are coming or can’t come to our annual reunion that Helen Gallaway plans for us. That too has been a reason to check the mail box.

Tomorrow evening we will all gather for soup at Herrin First Baptist Church and reminisce and laugh at our college memories as well as laugh at Helen’s rapid repartee. Friends will be coming home with us to spend the night, and we’ll catch up on what is happening in their lives. Then we will go back to Herrin on Friday for more fun and fellowship, beautiful music, worship, and finally after a noon banquet, the sad farewells.

Fortunately, Christmas is coming, and our mailbox will soon be filled once again with greetings from those same old-time friends and many others. And who knows, there might even be a $20 check for a manuscript someday!