Elizabeth (Martin) Martin

A Memorable Visit to a Cemetery

For the latest Red Room blogging topic, I am going to share this poem, which I wrote long ago based on a true experience when I still had time to research and ponder family history.  I had searched years before for this grave and had decided Elizabeth was probably buried in an unmarked grave on a farm somewhere, but I was searching in the wrong county.  I also had been in communication with one of Elizabeth’s brother’s descendants who moved to Kansas, and I had posted in Kansas asking for information, but no one seemed to have  the records I’d heard about. 

Then Sue Wilson’s husband inherited the Kansas records, and she shared the name of the cemetery where Elizabeth was buried, and I also found out that my great grandfather, who signed his named William F. Martin in Johnson County, was called Felix in his youth.  I went to the Jefferson County historical website and found that two women had very recently walked and recorded the graves in Pleasant Grove Cemetery off Route 37 south of Mount Vernon.  Gerald and I had a difficult time finding this  cemetery because only a very small sign on Route 37 was there for the current congregation meeting in the former Pleasant Grove Methodist Church building.  

Here is a poem I wrote in response to my emotional visit to Elizabeth’s grave.:

Elizabeth (Martin) Martin

Wife of William Felix Grundy Martin

5-1-1827 to 10-6-1857

Elizabeth came from Tennessee

To marry her cousin

In Illinois country.

An only daughter

With six brothers,

Her sister Margaret had died at three.

She helped out at home down there,

Content with others’ lives.

Then Felix’s dreams became her own

Which they must realize.

Though sad to leave her parents,

William Felix was a prize.

A preacher like her daddy,

Felix filled her heart with love.

Baby Margaret came along,

A second blessing from above.

Glorious sunshiny summer

Must end as all things do.

A horse threw off its rider

And troubles began to brew.

Her uncle, Felix’s father,

Was killed by that hard fall.

She comforted her young husband

Who cried but still stood tall.

Her death not three weeks later

Brought him to the ground.

For such excess bereavement

No comfort could be found.

Baby Margaret without her mother

Could not survive here long.

A third time family gathered

And sang a sadder song.

Beloved bride.  Beloved babe.

He must ride to Tennessee

To tell her parents what they’d lost

Here in Illinois country.

Time passed and much to his surprise

William Felix loved once more

And the sun began to rise.

The Civil War called him from home,

And all three brothers too.

For it seemed right that men must fight

When things were all askew.

Elizabeth had three brothers

Who’d moved up from Tennessee

And like the other cousins, they marched

Back home with Lincoln’s grand army.

Nine Martin cousins

Volunteered to join the fray.

Five came back and three died young

Their hair to never gray.

The war was finally over.

William returned to Louisa Jane.

He smiled to see son Will so big

And horse and farm again.

A three-room house they built with pride

Joys and sorrows came their way.

But he had learned when Elizabeth died,

That neither come to stay.

It was Elizabeth’s father’s turn to die,

Her mother Nancy was alone.

A younger son brought their mother up

To make an Illinois home.

Nancy saw the graves from long ago

Of the daughter still so dear

Of the babe she had yet to rock

And she shed another tear.

Nancy too returned to dust

A long way from Tennessee,

She was glad to join Elizabeth

Here in Illinois country.

I place blooms on these three graves

Where William Felix sobbed in grief,

Their early deaths gave me my life,

My great-grandmother was his second wife.

Hanging with our Artsy/Theatrical Family Members

As a child, Jean Claire, our middle daughter, always seemed to have a kitten or a sketch pad in her hands.  Jeannie drew up drawing, and I loved all the pictures she created. Now that she teaches art, I love seeing her students’ work. 

(She had a terrible time learning to ride her little bicycle in the first grade, and a family scrapbook note to her daddy asking him to please help her “roed buy myself” still touches my heart.  Little did we dream that she would be riding all over the Midwest in her adult life.)

Our rural school system had little opportunities for art or speech and theater,, although Jeannie took part in chorus and Junior-Senior plays, and finally the school had an art class when she was a senior.  In addition to her art work, she had a good voice and a talent for acting.  Fortunately, her 4-Club gave her many speaking opportunities, and she was the star at a very young age in their Share-the-Fun skits. 

Fast forward a few years after her marriage to Rick Eiler, and Jeannie dropped out of grad school to became a dedicated  mother. (I declare that her three children are her artistic masterpieces.)  Her first child, Leslie Ellen, set the stage that Jeannie would be required to become a dedicated stage mother. Jeannie has explained that from a toddler on, Leslie would act out anything she wanted to communicate.

Because of her psychology degree, I think Jeannie recognized and was tuned in to her children’s individuality, and  she proceeded to encourage them to develop those strengths. I am afraid I was guilty of offering what opportunities I could to our kids but did so more as a generic thing rather than honing into their individual talents and variations. There were swimming and piano lessons for all and eventually some voice lessons for Katherine and Mary Ellen and a few art lessons for Jeannie.  Gerry and Mary Ellen both loved sports although I was not a very good sports mother.

All four kids participated and profited from school, church, and 4-H activities. I wanted them to have  varied experiences, but failed to provide encouragement for extra effort in any area. I mostly just wanted the kids to have fun, which was not altogether a bad thing.  Having fun is very important. I think I simply assumed the children would have to pick and chose and develop their own interests, and they did, which was similar to the way I was reared.

And Jeannie and Rick did this too, for their kids were all exposed to school and sports activities.  Rick is a runner and a high school tennis and track coach, so he gave them an example of an athlete who found joy in physical activity, and the kids participated. Jeannie, of course, kept them involved in art projects.  But as they excelled in music and theater, by the time they reached high school, that is where their time and energy was used.

Leslie started her acting career at age six in Music Man in Rend Lake College’s summer theater program, and she never stopped until she left home and became a voice major at Belmont in Nashville, TN. Very soon Elijah was old enough to follow in her footsteps and was breaking his leg every opportunity he had.  Both of them often got a lead in their school plays and both of them were involved with singing, piano, and constantly performing.  Just as Gerry and Vickie’s kids gave us many days of happily watching exciting basketball, volleyball, and softball games, Les and Lige brought us great entertainment in the theater.  It was never easy to go over 400 miles to the northern top of the state and we couldn’t go to every performance we wanted to go to, but it was always more than worth it when we managed to make that trip.

When little sister Cecelie came along, she protested being expected to automatically follow her siblings’ activities.  Naturally community friends assumed she would be the star her brother and sister were and were telling her so. But like her parents, I tried to hold my tongue, so she was free to choose her passions.  She chose violin in junior high and made that a priority in her life, and we were proud.  Yet when we drove up for a junior high musical and saw her perform, we knew it would be a waste if she did not continue to use her vocal and drama talents as well.  As a freshman in high school, she is still excelling with her violin, but is not averse to participating on the speech team and is now involved in her first high school musical.  I am very glad.

The reason I am reflecting all this is that finally Leslie is back on stage.  For that too, I am very grateful. She was not able to participate in musical theater at Belmont, and although we certainly appreciated the quality music education she received that landed her a job with a music publishing company and all that she accomplished as a jazz singer, I really wanted her to be able to use her acting and comedienne abilities as well. 

And finally the opportunity came when she discovered the Larry Keeton Theater.  Located in a former school building, this non-profit Senior Center for the Arts has multiple activities going on including this dinner theater in the former gymnasium.  Deciding she needed to become acquainted with this group, Leslie auditioned for their October weekend presentations of Little Women, a new musical based on Louisa May Alcott’s  novel, and she was awarded the role of Jo.

With the Columbus Day holiday available, Jeannie made plans to attend on two weekends and to sandwich in helping her sister Katherine during the days between.  Of course, I wanted to go if at all possible to hear Leslie sing once more on stage. Rick had a conference, but Cecelie would come with her mother on Saturday, and we’d go on to Nashville. Elijah drove down Friday night, and  he could take Cecelie back with him to Bloomington, where Rick would come pick her up on Monday for Tuesday school. Unfortunately, there was van trouble coming down, and  Elijah had to go rescue them while Rick arrived to put the van in the repair shop. Thus, it was Saturday night before Jeannie and Cecelie reached Woodsong.  So seeing the Saturday performance and attending worship the next morning with Leslie and husband Mike was impossible.

In the meantime, Gerald’s only sister Ernestine and her husband Don also arrived Saturday evening in their camper from Rock Springs, WY,  along with their beautiful dog Lacy.  So as it turned out, Jeannie, Cecelie, and Elijah were able to all have supper at Woodsong with their Uncle Don and Aunt Ernie, and Jeannie could spend the evening visiting with them. Brianna and Trent soon came over with Trent’s weekend friends Tim Marten and Brock from back in Waggoner country. They picked up Lige and Cecelie to join Sam in Marion for whatever mischief they could cook up. (I never heard a report on that except I know they visited a spook house.)  Mary Ellen was over for coffee early Sunday morning to visit Don and Ernestine before the Eilers and I left for our delayed trip to Nashville.

I consider Don and Ernestine among the “artsy” relatives. Ernestine has great appreciation for native American art and culture, and as a seamstress, her mother’s artistic talent is duplicated.  A favorite sewn Christmas ornament that she created pleases me each year as it captures her and Don’s essence.  Their backyard is a work of art with rock and fossil artifacts they have collected as they have explored the mountains and wilds of Wyoming. Don, a retired English teacher, is a writer, and Ernestine, a retired librarian, is a prodigious reader. I was disappointed I was unable to be there Sunday afternoon when Gerald’s brother Keith and wife Barbara and our niece Vicki Escue came to the farm.  I also had to miss the Tuesday morning family breakfast at Jonesboro, but I enjoyed every minute I had with them until they went on down to visit the Union County relatives Monday night.  I had assumed they spend at least a week here, but they had some other places they needed to go on their way home to a cat that was missing them.

Jeannie, Lige, Cecelie, and I arrived at 108 Donelson Pike in time for the excellent Sunday dinner before the afternoon musical and enjoyed visiting with the other seatmates at our table.  I was eager for that curtain to go up, and I was not disappointed when it did.  Leslie was a perfect outspoken determined Jo, and I loved her every line and every song.  With all the musical talent available in Nashville, the cast was excellent, the multi-height set  effective, and the March sisters—Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy--and their cohorts made us laugh and cry as well as reviewing some Civil War history for us. Finally we were hugging and congratulating Jo, who joined the other cast and their directors Ginger Newman and Jamie London for an after-session with some high schoolers, who had been invited. They each told a bit about themselves and answered the students’ questions.  Afterward with her GPS to guide her, Jeannie treated us to for dinner with Leslie and Mike, who met us at the restaurant.

Like Leslie, Mike is a musician and he started to Belmont as a guitar major when the intensive use of his arm prevented him from playing for a year.  Graduating Magna Cum Laude in Biblical studies, he had also become a personal trainer and is employed full time in that now. He has written his own e-book and participates in various Strongman events with Leslie cheering him on.  If you want to read more about this grandson-in-law, check out this link:   http://friendslife.org/uncategorized/volunteer-spotlight-michael-thompson/

We did not want to say goodbye to Les and Mike, but it was a long trip home ahead of us made even longer by road construction closing our entry onto 24West to one lane.  Almost an hour we crawled and stopped and started allowing cars to merge when necessary, but Jeannie handled it all with skill.  When we stopped for gas, Elijah took over and she got some deserved rest. We arrived back at Woodsong by 11 and went to bed promptly as Elijah and Cecelie had to leave at 5 a.m. to meet Rick in Urbana.  Jeannie and I didn’t have to get up that early, and we enjoyed another morning visit with Don and Ernestine before we started on our goal of helping Katherine with some projects.

Visiting Our Sports Oriented Family

With nephew DuWayne’s help, we made a good trip to Georgia this past weekend—the first time I’d been away from the Illinois since we made the same quick trip to visit son Gerry’s family last year this time. We arrived later on Friday than we’d hoped.  Our first slow-down was a wreck on the Paducah bridge.  Then an accident on down the highway.  Then a long long crawl through a construction site, and then the Atlanta traffic.  Where were those folks all going at 8 p.m.? 

Finally we found ourselves carrying our bags up steps graced with a novelty bulldog and a baby bulldog dressed in University of Georgia garb and then receiving hugs from Gerry and Vickie.  A little later Tara and Bryan and our three great grandsons arrived back home telling us all about the fall party they’d had a church and the sports events there.  While the boys bounced around batting their balloons they’d received, we had a nice evening visit while the baseball game played on TV.  Plans were made for the busy sports schedule that household had coming the next day. Multiple games are not unusual for them. Such schedules are taken in stride by this two-generation family living together in Watkinsville, next door to Athens, the home of the South’s oldest higher education institution.

Saturday morning Gerald and DuWayne were up and ready to go for early breakfast with Gerry and our oldest grandchild Tara, who both help Lu Harris-Champer coach UGA softball.  At breakfast they could enjoy all the pre-game talk before morning batting practice, and they were also rewarded with an early peek at new recruit Alex Hugo at third base, a sight Gerry assured them would be worthwhile.

I slept late and came down to Tara’s husband Bryan preparing bacon and eggs for Aidan (age 7), Maddux (age 4), and Payton (age 3).  He explained they let our daughter-in-law Vickie sleep in on the weekend since she gets them all to work and school on time during the week.  I stayed to visit with Vickie while Bryan took the boys for Maddux’s soccer photo. 

Soon they were back, and I crawled into the van with Bryan and the boys to go to Maddux’s 11 a.m. soccer game.  Vickie met us there and had lawn chairs waiting by the field bordered with tall stately pines. I was surprised at how disciplined and aware of rules these little guys were, and I admired the gentleness and sensitivity of the fathers volunteering to coach them. Maddux was in and out of play as only three players for each team were on the field at the same time, but he was happy because he got a goal. His dad was most pleased at how well he played defense.

Bryan could not go to the UGS softball game at one because his job was to take Aidan to his football game where Aidan is proud to play for a team called Packers.  (The last time he was at our house, Aidan was wearing his Christmas gift shirt that had Rodgers on the back, and I was confused. Aidan was shocked I had never heard of Aaron Rodgers.)  Bryan said he could drop me off at the softball stadium, and Vickie said I could ride with her in the pickup, but before the soccer game was over, Gerald joined us so he was able to see our sweaty enthusiastic Maddux running up and down the field.  Gerald had been afraid I would have trouble stepping into the pickup without a running board, so I rode with him to the softball game after we stopped for sunscreen and then at Subway for a sandwich.

It was a beautiful hot autumn day, but I sat in comfortable seats under a roof with Vickie, so the sunscreen was not necessary.  The fall schedule only allows for practice games, but the teams know they are important since this is their first opportunity to play together with new teammates and find out their potential for the spring season.   The previous weekend the team had met North Carolina at a high school facility half way between the schools since they are only allowed to travel 300 miles for these practice games.

Now for their first home game, they were playing Florida State, who had come to Athens with many enthusiastic fans to witness 10-inning games on Saturday and Sunday. With that many innings, Morgan Montemayor, Chelsea Wilkinson, and our granddaughter Geri Ann all got to pitch at least three innings both days.  What a pitching staff we have this year!  While we watched, Vickie was keeping their middle daughter, Erin, abreast of what was going on--just as she closely follows Erin's career coaching fall volleyball at a middle school in Texas where she teaches math. Later in the year, Erin will help coach basketball and softball, and I am sure Vickie will know what is happening with these games also.

Ten innings seem to last a long time, but it provided more practice.  (Even when the home team did not need to play the bottom of the l0th, they played it to give batters experience against the Seminoles’ pitcher. Incoming high school players must regain confidence sometimes when they first experience college-level pitching.)  Of course, Gerry and Tara had a post game meeting, and later they had to be at a  clinic that an outstanding St. Louis pitching coach was presenting since he’d come down to see his Florida State daughter play against UGA.

It was a long day for the coaches before they were able to join us at home in the family room. Geri Ann came over while we watched the UGA football team play Vanderbilt and then had a home screening for Tara to see Maddux’s soccer game, which Bryan had photographed for her. Meanwhile the three little guys were actively moving throughout the room using up their last bits of energy and the one unbusted balloon before bedtime. Geri Ann had a paper to write and an exam to study for, so she left earlier than we would have liked.  Student athletes learn early the discipline of limited time to goof off.

Sunday morning I again slept in and woke to sweet childish voices downstairs and Gerald’s note on the dresser telling me to phone him if I needed a ride. I dressed rapidly in my red and black and repacked my suitcase to load in Bryan’s van. As I went down the stairs, there in the foyer below were the three little brothers laughing and wrestling together on a large leather football dummy.  They are able to entertain themselves with or without organized sports. I felt reluctance to leave this house where three little book bags hang on hooks on the wall behind the kitchen table and three little cowboy boots are lined up on the shoe rack in the laundry hall. The boys continued getting their exercise at the softball stadium as they went up and down metal stairs visiting, rescuing balls that came over the fence, and charming us with their sweet smiles.

UGA did very well winning at the softball stadium both days, and Gerry was an affable host when he took us to dinner before we departed for home. All of us are excited about the upcoming spring season now that last year’s freshmen are seasoned and the new recruits are looking good.  I chose to sit by Geri Ann at dinner as we were able to see so little of her away from the field.  She misses her little nephews since she moved into the dorm last year and then this fall is sharing a house with roommates. As we waited for our food, the two youngest boys were happily enthroned on Tara’s lap, and despite the fully scheduled weekend of work, she now looked relaxed and rested snuggling her little ones.  Geri Ann entertained them teaching them a new and complicated song. 

The food was good and the fellowship better, but it was time to start the long trip back to Illinois.  Fortunately, we had DuWayne who took over driving home and safely got us through a heavy rainstorm that made many cars pull off the road.  Afterwards we were rewarded with one of the most spectacular sunsets we had ever seen.  (The next day I read on Facebook that my dear friend Loretta White Ruff came through that rain and marveled at that same gorgeous sunset.  She drove from her now North Carolina home to Carbondale to visit her siblings.  They are rejoicing at her brother Sam’s respite at home from the St. Louis hospital, where he has been battling leukemia.  He will return for a marrow transplant.  I wondered our close our cars were together on that common highway.)

I also learned on Facebook that some time after we left, Gerry had attended Aidan’s baseball practice at his coach’s home with its own field for these kids.  It was Gerry’s first time to attend a practice of Aidan’s coach of two years, and he was very impressed.  I was impressed he had energy to attend one more sports event before the weekend was over.

A Season of Change

As I looked out the living room windows, two scarlet patches of leaves were there in the midst of the green to delight me. A tree that Gerald planted over 11 years ago.    Looking out the kitchen window across the driveway and behind the garden, tall brown corn awaits the combine.  On down the lane, our neighbor’s lush green soybean plot is pleasingly speckled with yellow leaves. Everything is changing for the end of this growing season and  preparing for winter’s rest.

Brian and Mary Ellen are working as fast as they can to gather this summer’s corn crop with  its over-the-top yields.  After last summer’s drought, they are rejoicing over these abundant results from their hard work.  

Mary Ellen has learned to drive the pickup with the trailer behind pulling the golden grains to the market. This is not easy to do, and she was fearful at the prospect.  Yet that did not stop her from jumping in to assist in this way.  Brian put new tires on the trailer so that she did not have to fear a blow-out that might very well topple a wagon. 

I am amazed that she has been able to quickly learn this new skill, but I should not be.  One adjective I have used to describe her since she was a little child is the word “competent.”  Need rice crispy treats?  Little Mary Ellen was good at it.  Need your hair fixed?  Mary Ellen could do it.  Drive a tractor?  Mary Ellen did.  Sew a garment?  She did it all the time.  Make a gift?  Her craft skills were fine.  Need a pianist?  Yes, Mary would.help you out.  Or a soloist?  Sure.  She was always my helper in so many ways.

In college, she shone in ag communication classes and organizations. She even took one semester out to work as a secretary.  After graduation in the middle of a recession, she went right to work as a reporter on our local newspaper, and took and developed photographs as needed leaving the old Marion Daily Republican building in the middle of the night if necessary to meet a deadline. It scared me to death but did not faze her.  But, of course, she wanted a better job with benefits and advancement possibilities.

No agriculture jobs were available with the ag crisis going on, so she gave up looking for the  better job in Illinois, and she decided on a move to Nashville, where she  joined her sister Katherine.  That was a great place for someone who loved music as both those daughters did.  Temporarily she stayed in Katherine’s apartment and took temporary jobs, where I am sure she was appreciated for her competence by that agency.  Soon she was hired as a writer for Tennessee Magazine.  And eventually she was editor.  She was enjoying her success and the travels it provided her and all the fascinating people she met, and then her former boyfriend came back into the picture. 

I had it in my head that the boyfriend might be giving her an engagement ring that Christmas at Pondside Farm, but that didn’t happen.  What did happen is he gave her the ring down in Nashville; and on New Year’s Eve,  she called us to say that they were being married that night in the chapel on Music Row. They had just decided.

Should we drive down?  No, Brian’s mother was much too far away to make it from New York and maybe it would be fairer if we didn’t come either.  His cousin and fiancé were in town from Florida  to offer support, and her girl friends were helping her with flowers and cake.  She had time for a whirlwind shopping trip, and she looked gorgeous in her short two-piece wedding dress in the beautiful photos that they had to share with us.

We had an exciting family celebration  when they came up for the weekend at Pondside Farm.  From there, Brian had to go back to northern Illinois where he was working in his home area, and Jeannie sweetly drove Mary Ellen back to Nashville.  That long-distance marriage did not last long until phone and flight bills made it easy for them to decide they wanted to be together more than on the weekend, so Brian moved down to look for work there.  That did not last long either because Brian was offered a full-time job with DeKalb that he had been seeking, and were soon settled in Iowa.

As Brian advanced in his career, there were moves from Iowa, where their two children were born, to Michigan to Indiana to St. Louis, and finally to their country home five miles south of Waggoner and its population of 250 while Brian worked north of Springfield.  So there were lots of houses for Mary Ellen to decorate and settle in, many schools to help her children adjust to, family medical needs to be attended to, and eventually a successful real estate career that had to  be aborted with the move to Waggoner and then rebuilt in Springfield, where she continued developing her public relations skills and experience, which she always had a talent for. . 

Now with their two children starting their own adult lives, Mary Ellen is back in her home rural community with Brian working in an office in their home and driving into St. Louis when necessary.   For the moment, Mary Ellen is a homemaker and a truck driver, who still likes to help me out carrying in a meat loaf or slow-cooked ribs or sharing egg salad she said they would get tired of.  It is so fun to have her nearby to talk to and to see what new thing she has achieved with the home they have moved into. 

Until harvest is over, she is sharing this busy season with her husband.  Brianna was home for Murray State’s fall break, and she rode the truck with Mary Ellen while they caught up with Brianna’s news about life as a college freshman, What will be next?    More real estate?  She is good at that.  Another move if Brian’s work calls for it?  She’s good at moving too and making friends wherever she goes.  A completely different career?  Whatever it is, I know from past experience that she will be quite competent. 

By the Light of the Harvest Moon

Earlier in the week, I drove home from Katherine’s quite late; but with the way lit by the beautiful full harvest moon, I enjoyed the drive.  I was able to reflect on all the joy of company we have had so far this month.  It started with Gerry and Vickie’s visit the first weekend in September, which was especially fun because they brought their oldest grandson Aidan up with them.  He got to be bird boy when the men dove hunted, and  he caught a bass when he fished with Gma Vickie, who caught the biggest fish ever caught from our lake in grandson Sam’s opinion. To please Aidan, Vickie cooked it, and  I came home from Katherine’s to join the gang already at supper eating that large bass. Before the weekend was over, Aidan was allowed to drive the four-wheeler (with many cautions) and to drive the tractor with Gerald sitting in the buddy seat. 

One of the joys of having our youngest daughter Mary Ellen’s family move back to our community is that Mary Ellen is able to drop in and out frequently.  When I can, I try to do the same  on my way to or from town when I go the highway instead of the back country roads.  Mary Ellen brings yummy meat loaf from her freezer and delicious ribs slow cooked for hours in her oven, so she has cut my cook time, which is nice with so much time needed at Katherine’s house.  Sam and Brianna both had to come enjoy the Georgia family and to play with Aidan.  And Vickie brought her mother (Gma Shirley) over before they left on Labor Day.  Leslie came through later in the day for a brief visit but missed the Georgians.

We were also thrilled to have a visit from Bob and Sylvia Mountz, who were visiting in the area for a couple of days before heading to Champaign to meet a relative before catching their flight back to Phoenix.  We wished they could have visited longer because Sylvia and Gerald have so many shared memories from when her father, Ralph Fisher, was manager at the State Forrest Preserve (now called Trail of Tears State Park).  Mr. Fisher and Dad Glasco were great buddies, and Gerald and I took Dad down for a visit when the Ralph and Catherine still lived in their retirement village in Arkansas.  I loved visiting with Mrs. Fisher and seeing  the huge lovely photograph of their eight children as a focus  in the living room. The Fishers were strong advocates of education, and Gerald said they were a great influence in their rural community.  He had to show Sylvia and Bob what we laughingly call the Fisher file, with all the clippings and information about their talented family.  Ralph had written long letters to Gerald telling of the academic and other achievements of each child and grandchild.  Of course, they were given copies of those letters. During their too brief visit we fed them Flamm Orchard peaches, and Bob had to have some of Gerald’s tomatoes fresh from the garden.

Another day one of our closest neighbors, Mary Lea Kahlor Burnham dropped by to borrow some cages and had time to have a coke with me.  A neighbor visit is a real treat and much better than the brief phone calls we sometimes share.

Then the five Archibalds arrived at 4 a.m. on Friday before the weekend of their cousin Sarah’s Saturday wedding.  Bryan had been chosen on the Southern Illinois University Carbondale Century Football Team.  They got a minimum of sleep after that before starting their busy day, which included plans for the three boys to play in the lime pile, and ride all the farm vehicles with Gpa Gerald.  Sam was off school that day (teachers’ meeting I guess), so he got to be with us at lunch. Mary Ellen and Brian were in Waggoner closing on their house sale there, so they couldn’t join us.

Later that afternoon and more farm play, after baths they were off  meet up with Bryan’s mom who was staying in the cabins at Giant City and was all excited to be able to see her three grandsons while Bryan and Tara went to the banquet honoring the All Century Team.  They spent the night with Linda, and  woke to face the extra busy Saturday which included tailgating, being recognized at the football half time, and somehow getting every one dressed and back to Stonefort for Sarah’s  5 p.m. wedding!

In the meantime, Gerry and Vickie and Geri Ann had arrived Friday evening late, and we were able to visit before they took off the next morning for tailgating with Bryan’s family, who were here to celebrate Bryan’s honor.  Gerry and Vickie and Geri Ann were in and out changing clothes for the wedding, and much later were back to finally collapse  and report a great day and evening after the reception in Marion.  Gerry and Vickie had the three boys with them  and quickly settled them down since Bryan and Tara were staying to visit with his dad and stepmother, who were  in a motel in Marion.  

Sunday morning granddaughter Erin and her fiancé Ted Schoblocher, who were here briefly from Dallas for the wedding, carried in a variety of  breakfast goodies.  Everyone chatted over coffee and reflected and laughed over all the fun at the wedding festivities the night before.  It was fun to hear about the little boys dancing. This breakfast visit was much too short, but Erin and Ted had to get back to Texas for work the next day. Later Tara and Bryan and his folks, Ron and Tonda, were out to see the farm.

By that time, I had gone on to Sunday School.  I am working with preschoolers again this year, and I knew it was important that baby Isaac have a familiar face to greet him.  I was rewarded by his coming into my arms without crying and later I had the privilege of giving him a bottle before he got down on the floor to play with his sister and Miss Kim. 

I did get home in time to see Ron and Tonda for the first time since Bryan and Tara’s wedding on New Year’s Eve 2005.  I had lunch in the oven for anyone who could stay, but everyone was anxious to get back to their far away homes, so Gerald and I had a quiet lunch and rest time before I left for my usual Sunday afternoon visit with Katherine. I took a lunch plate to her and stopped on the way to leave one for Trent, who was home taking care of Fifi, while Mary Ellen and Bryan had breathlessly gone from their house closing to their first Parents Weekend with Brianna down at Murray. That they were able to sell their rural home in only a couple of weeks after the first buyer had to regretfully back out was a miracle.  (Although I am sure that Mary Ellen’s knowledge as a realtor was a factor in the miracle.)

As I drove home beneath the beauty of the luminous yellow moon promising the coming appearance of the same yellow in autumn leaves, I knew I had much to rejoice over before harvest even began.  And now at the end of the week, it has.

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.

a

Life Too Full of Happenings--I Need a Break

Stuff (life) just keeps happening and does not seem to slow down.  Good things. Bad things.  But too much at once.  And lots of zucchini to cope with.

VBS came and went with little effort on my part but much enjoyment with grandkids in the house.  Elijah was at our village church three Sundays recently, and I loved hearing him sing.  I loved having him and Brianna with us as we studied Job in Young Adult Class.  (And it was fun having Mary Ellen visit last Sunday too, and then really nice to have her invite us all to lunch!)

The day before I had a wonderful unexpected treat when my brother Jim and wife Vivian come down from Mattoon.  Frankly, they have had serious  health problems that have made me wonder if they’d be able to come for awhile.  But Vivian’s sister in nearby Vienna was celebrating her 80^th birthday, and they came down for the family get-together there despite the tight medicine schedule they have to keep for the time being.  Jim called me the night before, and Katherine insisted I leave for an afternoon break so I could see them when they dropped by the farm on their way home. 

Adding to our pleasure was finding out their daughters Judi and Jane (Beth) were with them.  I relaxed thinking one of the daughters could drive if Jim got tired—but he left the farm in the driver’s seat.  Come to find out when I called him today for his 85^th birthday, he drove all the way down (with a traffic jam that slowed them considerably in Marion) as well as all the way home.  Although Jane would have been glad to drive, he  enjoyed making the long drive. I do not think I could not make that  trip there and back in one day.  And with Katherine so sick, I haven’t tried to go up for an overnight visit as I used to do.  So it had been much too long since I had seen them, and I was very grateful for their visit.  Elijah and Brianna came in while they were here, and I liked that they were able to see relatives they had not seen in years.  Vivian was especially pleased to see Elijah because he received the first of many many baby blankets she has made down through the years including ones for all of our grandchildren after Elijah.

Another joy has been  having Gerry and Vickie in the house yesterday and today.  They came by way of Dallas where Gerry had helped in a softball clinic that our granddaughter Erin was having there. Then they had driven all night and stopped at the farm for some sleep before coming over and joining Mary Ellen and me at the hospital in Carbondale, where Gerald was having a pacemaker implanted.  They had to return to Georgia this afternoon, but Gerry retrieved his dad from the hospital this morning and took him to breakfast at Cracker Barrel. I had a mite of trouble the first time I saw Gerald in a hospital gown before the procedure, but he looked the picture of health, and I felt confident that all would go extremely well and it did.

He had never spent a night in the hospital during our marriage, and I’d planned to spend the night with him although I figured he would protest.  However, it turned out that he was in a large ward  with very tight quarters, and they would not allow anyone to stay in there through the night. I saw no point in trying to sleep on a  hard chair in a waiting room.  So I carried out the little  bag I had packed with a tooth brush and meds and came on home at the close of visiting hours.  It had been rewarding  to watch the screen above his bed recording dots every time the pacemaker helped his heart rhythm.  We have to appreciate the modern miracles that researchers and physicians have created for us. I have a feeling Gerald will have more energy than ever now despite the fact that he already works more than anyone his age ought to in his wife’s opinion. The big worry now is how we will keep him following the doctor’s orders until the pacemaker settles in and the incision heals.

Before this, Gerald has  been busy mowing the yard since he is not supposed to do so  now for awhile and getting his garden in shape and picking zucchini.  On top of that, he has been getting estimates and talking to insurance folk because last Friday I needed to go to Herrin on an errand and I stopped by to leave zucchini and to share a few Union County peaches that Bill Tweedy has brought us. I invited Mary Ellen to go with me as  I thought it might give her a needed break from all the hard work they are involved in right now with crops and kids and moving stuff down from Waggoner.  Mary Ellen is an excellent driver and likes to drive, and we followed our usual pattern of my handing her the car keys. 

Just as I expected, we were having a good time talking and laughing, when suddenly as we were driving along on the main street of Energy we were rear ended with great force.  I never understood why, but a man had rammed into us. (The policeman said this has kept happening but the man kept passing his driver’s exam and he did have insurance.  We sure hope.)  We were shook up both physically and emotionally, but we knew we came out of it with a minimum of damage considering the jar we had.  Dark bruises show where my seat belt saved me from serious injury.  Otherwise, Mary Ellen and I were ok, and the car can be fixed.

Before Gerry and Vickie had to leave today, For our lunch I made a zucchini casserole for a veggie to go with out baked pork chops and instant mashed potatoes.  I’d been wanting to make a peach pie with the peaches  so I did that for dessert.and used sweetener instead of sugar as a welcome home gesture for Gerald.   It was successful.

All in all, there is just too much going on right now and I must take a break from blogging.  I process life by writing, and it is both relaxing and distracting for me to keep from thinking of problems I cannot control.  All my life when I see something beautiful, I have wished I were an artist and able to capture it permanently on paper.  Instead I have  to use words to try to make transient things more permanent. But right now, maybe I need to save that writing time for more important things.  Maybe I should be the one to start picking the zucchini.

Knock Knock

How can it be that our young people are not safe to walk in their home neighborhoods at 7:30 in the evening?

How can it be that wearing a hoodie makes someone suspicious?

How can it be that a court room lawyer would think it okay to make bad jokes in front of  parents whose child had been shot?

How can it be that “educated” lawyers and some of the media talked down to and failed to show respect to Trayvon Martin’s young friend who gave an honest report--just because she was unsophisticated and  uncomfortable testifying and could not read cursive? 

How can it be that persons claiming an unrecognizable voice (according to the experts) were able to claim they knew it was their dear friend George’s voice?  And that Trayvon’s mother did not recognize her own son’s voice? 

How can it be that six women feel it is legal for a man to shoot and kill an unarmed youth?

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.

The Pleasure and Excitement of Summer Company

After a spate of company last weekend with the Eilers and the Archibalds here, this week has been relatively quiet.  We often do not know who might arrive during the night and be sleeping in the next morning here at Woodsong.  Gerald did know that Tara and Bryan and our three great grandsons were coming to spend a day at the farm at the end of their vacation on their way home to Georgia, and he had been making sure the lime pile and toy machinery were ready for them.  I knew Jeannie and Cecelie were coming “at the end of the week,” but wasn’t sure when they would arrive. 

I was spending the night at Katherine’s, and when Gerald woke he could see who was in the house by the cars outside. Jeannie and Cecelie had picked up Brianna over at her house, where their family has been this summer—when they aren’t at Waggoner.  Of course, Mary Ellen came over the next day.  We liked it that it worked out so several of the family got to see “the boys” who, of course, are greatly changed every time they visit with most visits several months apart.

Jeannie came prepared with food and ideas and declared she was cooking for all of us.  We declared that her egg salad sandwiches for Friday lunch were the best we had ever eaten. Since people often sleep late and are barely up for lunch or have only recently eaten the bowl of cereal or toast, which is what they usually get for breakfast here, the egg salad was a great idea.  She also fixed supper that night, but the Archibalds had needed to leave before then--knowing they would still arrive home well after midnight. 

As usual, the three little guys rode the tractor, the lawn mower, the Gator, and played hard in and out of the house.  Cecelie and Brianna enjoyed entertaining them as well as Gerald.  When I arrived home, I played peep-eye with the shy one and gradually had my turn interacting with each precious boy.  Still in the flower mode, Gerald took the boys to the fields and let them pick bouquets for their parents.  I was impressed that they made sure their dad had a bouquet as well as their mama.   Later when Maddux was yawning and a mite cranky, his mother asked him if he was getting tired.  He nodded yes and added, “From all that flower picking.”  It is always sad to see them leave and we dreaded the long trip ahead for the parents, although they are pretty accomplished at keeping the kids occupied or asleep. 

The next day Elijah arrived driving down from Illinois State, where he is taking some summer classes and working.  I think the grandkids gathered up at Trent and Brianna’s house on Friday, and on Saturday Sam and his friend Anna were here at the farm for cousin activities. They always have plans since they keep connected by phone and Facebook.

 Elijah sang for us at church on Sunday, and then he was invited to sing again that evening at the Fifth Sunday Sing, where five or six of our rural churches meet together four times a year.  I missed that since I was visiting at Katherine’s.  Earlier that day, I think it was, Jeannie had taken her kids over to Carbondale to visit her alma mater, but she had left a loin roast in the slow cooker all day, and there were delicious pulled pork sandwiches for supper when I arrived back home.

Dodging the rain when necessary, Jeannie had, of course, ridden her bicycle every day—sometimes on local country roads and sometimes going over to Harrisburg and getting on the bike trail. On  Monday she started to bike to town, and Gerald and I were relaxing at the dining room table.  Suddenly she appeared with one hand over an eye with a bloody face and knees.  Broken glasses were in the other hand, and she was saying, “I’m hurt.” We sprang into action all talking at once--grabbing clean dish towels to soak up blood and trying to figure out what to do.  Cecelie rescued the damaged bike and brought it to the house.

Their little dog Leah, who had never done such a thing before, had run in front of Jeannie’s bike on our driveway before she had a chance to do anything to prevent the bike’s fall and her face going into the gravel.  As soon as we had the blood flow somewhat stanched, she was calling her insurance company and her husband and trying to figure out what to do in order to avoid the emergency room if possible.  There were no approved places in our area for her insurance, but they kindly told here that therefore she could go anywhere with pre-approval from them. 

With a deep looking gash  on her face above her eye, we were thinking plastic surgeon, but the telephone book did not help us. Gerald’s doctor said to call the hospital for a list, but they put him on hold and we gave up on that because we wanted to get things taken care of. We did not want to spend the rest of the day in the ER, and Jeannie did not want to end up unnecessarily with that enormous expense. I tagged along with Gerald and Jeannie because I did not want to sit at home not knowing what was going on. The first urgent care place we went to was closed for lunch.  We went to another. 

The girl at the desk was so attentive and assured Jeannie that the P.A. there did that kind of thing all the time, and Jeannie went in quickly.  Not too much later, she came out after a tetanus shot and four stitches on her forehead with bandages on her head and knee. She assured us it had not hurt anything like she thought it would.  By this time, it was well past lunch time, so we went to a nearby eatery to plot her next move.  She had also talked to her eye doctor at Freeport and was hoping she could have the lenses put in a new unbroken frame, so she could wait to replace the lenses back with her own doctor.   I could not imagine that anyone could get the one lens, which had some damage in its corner, out of the frame without breaking it. 

We bravely went to Wal-Mart and no one was even at the desk in the eye center.  That seemed like a bad omen since we saw some other customers sitting closer to the intersanctum.  But when that clerk came out, we immediately felt her concern and expertise.  Within a very short time, she had found a frame among the children’s frames that fit Jeannie’s lenses exactly, and she had both lenses transferred to the new frame, which cost $9.09.  We were happy campers, indeed, and were soon back at Woodsong feeling very blessed.

Jeannie, Cecelie, and Elijah were actually on their way to Nashville, TN, to visit Leslie, whose birthday was Tuesday.  The kids had concert tickets to celebrate. After a little debate, they decided all was well enough to head to Nashville.  Jeannie loaded up her crippled bike on the back of her van and knew she would be renting a bike in Nashville.  Rick is teaching summer school as usual, and he came through last night and left his truck here and took Elijah’s car on down to Leslie and Mike’s for the rest of the week.

The dilapidated Candy Land  game is once again under the flap of the couch in the living room.  This is the same game that little Tara used to play and made sure rules were changed as we went along because even back then she wanted to win. Now it is her sons who play with Gerald, and the game is interrupted as younger boys join Aidan, who is very kind to let them join in.  I had forgotten once where I had stored (hidden) the game, but Aidan quickly went to the couch and pulled it out

Now faded bouquets have all been thrown out, the leftovers eaten up, the bloody towels soaked and bleached, and we’ve had a calm Independence Day.  I went to Katherine’s most of the day before an aide arrived, and Mary Ellen came over to the farm.  None of the beds have been touched since people left, but since Eilers will be stopping by on their way back north, I will let them deal with that.     

A Ride around the Farm

Gerald reported at lunch the other day on the beauty of the wild flowers in our Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) acres.  He wanted to send a bouquet of these to daughter Katherine, so he invited me to take a tour with him that afternoon to collect flowers.

We climbed into the Gator and started off first to check out the little sunflower plants in several plots around the farm.  The deer have destroyed one plot and are working on another, but Gerald has sprayed four plots with deer repellent that is supposed to keep the deer away.  We will see in another month whether we get to enjoy blossoms on these plots.  If we do, the birds will have quite a feast later when the seeds drop from the bloom center. Although we saw no deer on this particular day, we did see one circle of smashed grass where they had slept.

Gerald has planted all kinds of hay seed and native grasses on the CRP land surrounding our home—timothy, lespedeza, red top, alfalfa. Although there is some work for the farmer involved with this government program requiring planting, mowing, and sometimes careful burning, it is pleasant to think of the earth growing richer for future generations and bird life more abundant for us.  Little blue stem is particularly appealing to Gerald because unlike a dense ground cover  such as fescue, this native grass has bare spots between the plants, and the quail have room to nest and run through these little alley ways.

Soon we were over beyond our lake and were riding through lush tall grasses and abundant patches of flowers--brown-eyed Susans, Queen Anne’s lace, red and ladino clover, and plants I did not know the name of.  Gerald would grab his machete and hop off and cut tall stems to put into our large box in the back of the Gator.  I have heard of sweet clover all my life, but somehow I thought that was just a generic name for the red and white.  Now I have learned that the very tall plants with lacy leaves and little yellow blossoms are what that term refers to. The lacy leaves on the stems of partridge pea   were as pretty as blossoms to me. All these were added to the box along with some pretty heads of milkweed, which of course oozed its milky substance when Gerald cut the stems.

Although we occasionally saw the quite lovely lavender bloom of thistle plant, we didn’t collect them when Gerald chopped the thorny things down.  I was reminded of my dad paying my older siblings so much for every one of the thistles they cut from his pasture.  I think I tagged along with Rosie and Jim but was too young to make any money. 

Gerald remembered being paid for collecting pods from the milkweed plant for the war effort during World War II.  The silky seeds inside were used for life jackets. 

Infrequently we saw the brown head of the weed called sour dock, and I remembered using those seeds for coffee in the play house I created in two of the angles of the rail fence still remaining at Mount Airy Farm from my father’s childhood. I loved my mother’s stories about her and her friend Vera’s adventures, and so I tried to imitate their rail fence play house.  (One angle provided a living room area, and the next angle allowed me to have a kitchen.  I carried in a wooden box for a table and other objects for furniture.)  Gerald clipped me one stalk of dock in honor of  that childhood memory, and it looked rather nice in the middle of the arrangement I put on our dining room table, where it matched the brown cloth beneath it.

I am sure part of the reason for this ride around the farm was to distract me from the sadness of our daughter’s illness, and temporarily it did. Our box was full and running over, so I had plenty of flowers for a huge bouquet from Gerald to Katherine, which was especially pretty when he added a few tiger lilies and orange butterfly weed.  There was a bouquet for us, a couple of blooms for the kitchen table, and a huge arrangement in a bucket for the front porch. Best of all was the memories stirred up and the memories created of fields full of golden yellow blossoms swaying midst an abundance of tall warm season grasses.

The Farm Service Agency (FSA) website which administers the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) for the federal Department of Agriculture gives this explanation:   “In exchange for a yearly rental payment, farmers enrolled in the program agree to remove environmentally sensitive land from agricultural production and plant species that will improve environmental health and quality. Contracts for land enrolled in CRP are 10-15 years in length. The long-term goal of the program is to re-establish valuable land cover to help improve water quality, prevent soil erosion, and reduce loss of wildlife habitat.”

Oh dear!! (Written June 29)

I wrote a blog three two days ago, and I liked it altho I had not had time to edit it yet.  I was going to copy it to have Gerald check the ag facts and spellings.  So started to copy it from the many-day blog entries and put it on a separate document and then print it out for him to see. Somehow someway, I not only lost the blog post completely on Word--but a crazy half light blue page that will not let me use a cursor has shown up on the long many-day original copy of the blog that I write on instead of directly on here as I am doing now.  Don't know what happened and I cannot get rid of it on Word.  If I never hlog again, you will understand that I am too frustrated until I get this problem solved.  And computer stuff bumfuzzles me, so I may never be able to solve and use Word again.  We will see what the future holds. Ha. 

June Blessings

Two yellow day lilies are drinking water from a vase on the dining room table.  Katherine’s new wheelchair has arrived although the part to allow her to drive it has not yet arrived, so she went back to the old one for a couple of days in order to travel through her home.

It has been a pleasant week for the most part.  Not only did I get a nice visit with daughter Mary Ellen on Tuesday , but the next morning when I got out of bed at l0 a.m. (after surfing and catching up on the Internet too late the night before), there was a note in the kitchen from Mary Ellen with a meat loaf made from a new recipe she told me about on Tuesday and also containers of seven-layer salad—one for us and one for Katherine.  Both were very good, and one of the nice things about people sharing food is that often it is dishes you haven’t made in a long time—such as the that special salad that is so good but takes effort to create.

On Thursday I fried a package of fish that Gerry had cleaned and put in the freezer from their recent fishing time here.  With all the donations of food lately, our grocery bill ought to go down!

Grandson Sam and friends were out a couple of days to enjoy the lake, and I liked that. It is always good to see kids having a good time.   I finally got to meet his girl friend and a couple of other friends I’d heard about but never met.  There won’t be any visits this week, however, because he is at University of Illinois band and orchestra camp. His dad took him up in time to audition today, and he made second chair in the trombone section.  I was able to see Katherine’s pleasure this afternoon as she received the text message from David telling her about it.  To me the neatest thing about this camp is that our youngest grandchild Cecelie is there also with her violin.  That two cousins from opposite ends of the state can share this musical experience is very gratifying.

Last evening Gerald and I went out to dinner at our favorite quiet restaurant to celebrate our 57^th wedding anniversary.  This morning at Bible study before worship service, we studied Job together.  It is good to find out with Job that some bad things which happen are not the result of our sin.  And it is also good to know that friends who want to comfort someone in trouble should not judge or claim to speak for God.  Job never knew why he was the recipiesnt of such tragedy, but I guess he not only understands it now but he can rejoice that for centuries humans have been blessed by his example when he assured us that the Lord gives and the Lord takes away—but we can still say, Blessed be the name of the Lord.  This example of faith when things don’t make sense is especially valuable to our family right now.

With the coming of two new night CNA workers—sisters who were going to cover for one another if needed—Katherine and I enjoyed thinking I could again limit my help to the evenings and no more night duty. That lasted six days because tonight one sister ended up in the hospital—I still do not know why.  The other sister did not know and could not be reached for a long time to come to Katherine’s in her sister’s stead.  But when she belatedly heard, she came but had to bring her children with her since she had not prior notice. So she is there now putting Katherine to bed—something I cannot do.  When she and her children leave, she is to phone me and I will drive in to town to spend the remainder of the night.  So as often happens, Katherine’s careful planning goes awry.

Busy Times

The iris blossoms were beautiful this year.  They have come and gone and I never once went out and picked one for the kitchen table.   Now the yellow day lilies line the side of the house with their cheery message.  Maybe I will find time to bring one of those in to brighten meals.

Today Mary Ellen came over to Woodsong to see her dad and me.  It had been too long since she and I had the opportunity to have a good mother-daughter time.  She has been working very hard up at Waggoner cleaning their home there and arranging with the insurance to repair the storm damage done to the house the other night after the tornado moved across the river from St. Louis. She has been down here with Brian and Trent for a couple of days now after taking Brianna down to Murray State University for orientation.  But she has worked just as hard cleaning their house down here and helping Brian, who never gets to stop this time of year. Amazingly, he has his crops all planted despite the rains. Mary Ellen left our house late, but I see a funny Facebook post lamenting farm life.  She and Brian were having hot dogs over a bon fire while Brian was spraying and she was working picking up fallen branches.  The latest post tells me they are finally back in the house, and she is getting the deer ticks off of herself.   Early in the morning she goes back to Kentucky to pick up Brianna.

Katherine too works hard just getting through her day’s appointments and agenda while struggling to not slip out of her worn-out electric wheelchair.  She worked diligently getting the correct one chosen in Spring 2012. A final step was for the salesman to come to St. Louis Rehabilitation Institute for a meeting with her and the physical therapist there.  He phoned he had a flat tire on the way up and did not make it, and then he kind of disappeared without answering phone calls.  Finally she found out the company had sold and she must begin to work with a new salesman.  This has gone on for months.  They did bring the ordered chair in the other day to her house—but adjustments still have to be made and she is being told some parts are  not yet  in.  I have spent a great deal of my time at her home the last few weeks helping out, and you would not believe how busy the days are with phone calls and text messages, people coming and going, and people wanting paper work from her despite the fact that her hands can no longer handle paper.

Actually everyone in the family seems to be working hard with little time to spare.  Gerry is recruiting for Georgia, and Tara is involved for two weeks with the softball camps there.  That means Vickie is busy taking three little boys to the swimming pool nearby every day.  Bryan has been briefly at his home office in Chicago, but he is back in Georgia now and I am sure the boys are relishing  plenty of father time in the evenings when he closes his home office.   Erin is working these same two weeks in softball camps at Texas A&M. Geri Ann will soon be in summer school, but I am pleased she has had a break to visit friends in New York.

The Eilers are winding down from their school year and facing the chores postponed till summer. At least Jeannie was able to get in 60 miles on her bicycle through the hills yesterday.  I would call that work, but she calls it bliss.   Elijah is back at school at Illinois State and sharing a small house with a roommate, which is an exciting change from dorm life although he liked that too.  Cecelie, our youngest grandchild, is ready to start high school in the fall and is now in eastern Kentucky with her church youth group working in Vacation Bible School there.  Having heard the impact this work made on her older siblings for many years, she was very pleased about getting to go.

After I came home from Katherine’s yesterday morning, I mostly spent the day just resting as I was exhausted from several nights’ care giving with only a partial night’s sleep.  I did not even have to cook our noon meal  as Vickie’s mother (Gma Shirley to that set of grandkids) had cooked and she brought me and Gerald a yummy meal when she arrived at Katherine’s house Sunday evening.  All I had to do was heat it up, so I napped until Gerald came in for lunch, and then I napped after lunch too. Gerald keeps busy mowing the every-expanding lawn and working on the lake and in his shop and on his small garden.   This time of year is very busy for farm families; so despite retirement, Gerald and I find ourselves with little spare time.  And though I sometimes worry about our children and their families being over busy, I am grateful for their work ethic and that they are living productive lives.