She Calls Me "Big Bootie Grams"

It began several years ago. She was staying with me, Grams, during her momma's working hours back in 2016, beginning when she was only 2 months old, through her 4th birthday. Somewhere during that time, she became an adult with the freedom that only the very young have. The freedom to speak truth. I think the term, "Big Bootie Grams" has become a nickname now. But she says it very lovingly. 🤣

Our girl has always been a very observant tyke with very keen ears with which to hear. With all that youth pent up inside her, truthful words had a tendency to fill the atmosphere whenever we were together. Especially while chatting up a storm during our afternoon ritual of swinging and solving all of our little piece of the world's problems. "Our Time" was always a refreshing time of conversation because I knew truth (as seen through a toddlers eyes) would shine its light. 

I do miss those afternoons of it being just she and I, watching nature being nature. Our feet would touch the sky as the challenges began between the very young and the not-so-young. We noticed the colors of the trees changing, the squirrels gathering nuts (and only God knows what else), the deer peeking through the wooded area just to the left of us, as birds sang their songs while flapping around in the water fountain. We shared secrets. We talked smack about Gramps and how much she loved him. We played "Tag! You're It!" We raked up mounds of freshly fallen leaves so we could run through them, just to hear the sounds they gave back to us and the universe. We examined the beauty of butterfly wings and when a white or yellow one appeared, we were sure they had come just to make us smile. On days when the heat index was a little much, we sat in our perspective swings, waiting for the breeze we knew would come suddenly. It was only a matter of time before the movement of angel wings came to cool us. We never lost those moments. We jumped from the swings and with arms stretched out from our sides, we lifted our heads and stood very still while it swirled around us. And play ensued. 

We built tiny insect houses made of gathered sticks and leaves from the yard. Nor could any home be left without a flag waving on a pole, pushed deep into the earth for stabilization. We gathered sticks and piled them up just in case the tiny creatures needed a fire. Much of the time we would also leave directions along side the path (aka our driveway), to any such home available for residency. One day we even created a safe "Monkey Trap" so the monkeys wouldn't destroy the newly built home(s). Reagan's imagination took flight as we created very important structures for homeless insects. 

There were days we spent mostly inside, as well. Those were times of so much laughter as we rose to the challenge of "Statue" creeping. In case you are wondering what in the world that is, it was a game we made up, just to pass the time of day. I would "go for a walk-about" and she would "stay where she was" until I got back. I just needed some time to think. As I began my journey, she would leave her place (quietly) and fall in behind me. Me: "What was that? I think someone must be following me." I would quickly turn to look, with eyes wide, to see who was there. But all I ever found was a really cute statue that looked soooo much like our girl, Reagan. They would be frozen in place and always different. Once I examined the "statue", I would make some comment about taking it home with me, or painting it, or laying it on the couch out of my way. Then I would move on, only to "hear another noise as if someone was following me." This game could go on indefinitely! 

Another game she loved was "Ole!" This one had me holding a tea towel as I waved it around saying, "Ole!" That was what the "bull" was waiting for and then the charge was happening. She ran as fast as she could down the galley kitchen's floor, heading for the waving white flag. This is where pretend is needed, 'cause I didn't have a red towel. It didn't matter to her. We were having fun! She would try to grab the towel as she charged through it. If she could manage to catch it, as it flowed up over her head, she won. Then Grams had to be the bull. She got way too good at this game. 😂

I love this kid so much! She's our first grand-baby, and as the years would have it, has grown now into a stunning young miss. New memories are being made, when time allows. Being in school limits our together time and makes memory catching a looked for event. But look for them, we will!

The hours spent with "Snookums", as I called her (among other things 😂), will live on in my memories for which I will be eternally grateful. I have so many endearing moments captured in my heart from those years. Meg said I was helping her, by watching over Reagan while she worked. But truth be told, it was she who was helping me. 

Big Bootie Grams, taking a stroll down memory lane, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Dad's Sayings That Stuck With Me

Look how small my momma was after 10 kids!!!

Yesterday, a client asked me if I missed my Dad. It was a question that came out of the blue. He had asked some questions about my childhood and as he was leaving, surprised me with this question. It now has me thinking about my response. And about my dad.

Poor Richard's Almanac was a book written by Ben Franklin, back in the 15th century. It's a book that my dad quoted from on occasion, and has a statement within its pages that says, "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." My father quoted that statement frequently, especially when we siblings many, questioned the reasoning behind going to bed so early. I suppose it was his way of encouraging us. But the reality of it all was living on a farm with many mouths to feed, we had to get to bed early to acquire enough sleep to energize us throughout the next day. We rose at 4 AM to start our day at the milk barn attending to 20+ head of holstein cows. And the only "milking machines" we had was our own hands. Without going into explaining just how exhausting herding a bunch of cows was, while walking in ankle deep mud (during the summer months), and then prepping them to allow us access to their milk, I will tell you that "early to bed" was a necessity. And that was just the beginning of our day! I've followed this rule most of my life, but am still wondering when the "wealthy" part is going to kick in. 😉😉

Within those pages Franklin also wrote, "Be also ashamed to catch thyself idle." Another (almost) quote my father used often. Actually, Dad said, "Idleness is the Devil's workshop." Same, only differently said. We were reminded of this daily. I didn't really think about that one until I was much older. We just did as we were told...without question. Now that I'm an adult, working in an adult world, I really do get it!!! Idleness allows the mind to travel places that maybe it shouldn't. It's way too easy for the younger generation to fall into this abyss and that is where trouble looms. An active, work oriented person, generally keeps out of so much trouble. Not to suggest that working all the time is healthy, just that it keeps one focused on the chore at hand with no time for frivolously conjuring up something that may eventually bring one into harms path.

"Waste not, want not" was another term that was drilled into us as we tilled the soil, harvested the garden and corn fields, and sat down to the healthy meals prepared by my Mom's loving hands. I can only guess where this came from, and my guess is the fact our parents went through the great depression of 1929-1941 that ended during World War II. Mom spoke about waiting in soup lines during those hard years. Many things were rationed and one couldn't purchase just anything they wanted. Even if they had the money to do so. Which they rarely did.

 

I was born (the 10th child) in 1947. My brother, Rush, number 7, was born in 1941. So our parents raised 7 kids during those tremendously hard years. My mom and dad were married in 1925 and had their first child in 1926. Every 2 years another one of us popped out. I think a couple of the first four were born 3 years apart, or close to it. But the rest of our clan (8 more of us), was only 2 years apart. Mom carried 11, but lost one when she was thrown from the back of a flat-bed truck. I also think the great depression caused most families to be savers and people that repurposed items. It's equally hard for me to dispose of things I think might come in handy at a later date. As I've aged, I've gotten much better at throwing things out that haven't been used for awhile, but it takes a LOT of determination. The "what ifs" always invade my brain. 

PICTURE INFO: Left to Right, back row: Earl (Dad), Erna (Mom), Helen (first born), Melvin (second), Don (third), Ken (fourth). Front Row: Martha aka Marty (fifth), Etna (six), Rush (seventh), Rebecca aka Becky (eight), Daniel aka Dan or Danny (nineth), and little ole me, Mary (tenth). We sure did line 'em up, didn't we. 😂  It's funny that I can remember that particular skirt I had on that day. Mom had made it for the school year and it was my favorite. 

What a scrawny bunch we were! It wasn't from lack of food, so it must have been all that hard work, right? And maybe a little because our sugar was well regulated. Mom was an excellent cook and knew what we needed for the work that was in front of us. Our day-starting meal was usually made up of home-made biscuits and gravy, fried chicken and mashed potatoes. It was a hearty meal for sure, and is why we had any meat on our bones at all, I'm thinking. On occasion, Mom would bring home a bottle or two of soda pop from her monthly trip to town for staples, such as sugar, salt, and flour. We made our own butter (cows, remember). Should we ever ask for any of the soda pop (which we rarely did), she would allow a couple of swallows from a very small juice glass. And we knew not to ask for more. I think it was her personal reward for all the hard work she did to provide food for us all.

One last saying of Dads. Should (when) any of us got in the mullygrubs, he would always say, "The best is yet to come," as a smile etched itself across his face and a twinkle sparked from his eyes. That was his way of cheering us on, I suppose. Dad was a reader, when there was time for it. He was also a highly intelligent man, earning a Bachelor of Science degree while in college. His adult life consisted of a farm that supported a large family and eventually became a dairy farm as well, running a 3 generations sawmill (that eventually became 6), and ministry in the Methodist Church. He was a busy boy! As were his offspring...

These are only a few of the things Dad would inject into our day, as needed. Bible reading and prayer, was a required routine to our day, too. Morning, to start the day, and evening, as we prepared for rest to thank God for his provisions. I remember one day when my brother Danny and I weren't "on the job", Dad told us to read Psalm 119 in its entirety. He expected a run-down of the words written in that very lengthy chapter, when he got home. Having 176 verses, it is the longest chapter in the whole Bible. I'm pretty sure we didn't read them all. My memories of that day are vague, to say the least. I only remember Danny and I looking at each other with unbelief. How in the world were we to accomplish this task and be able to let Dad know what we learned from it. I think it must have been Dad's way of keeping us busy with idle body work, while engaging our brains at the same time. I have no idea how we escaped farm life that day...

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

Conquering Stress

"MANAGING" STRESS

If you know me, even just a little, you know that my brain seems to challenge me and will focus on an issue that may be affecting me or someone I love. Or those I come in contact with who are willing to share a part of their day with me. Issues can weigh hard on me if I allow them.

Much of humanity seem stressed to the max, these days. The phrase one will most often hear from a doctors office is, "You need to manage your stress levels." Personally, I don't think that's even a possible thing one can do. Maybe a better phrase would be, "You need to consider eliminating something you are now being held responsible for, that isn't imperative you do." Then, possibly, your stress levels would diminish somewhat. Still...I doubt it. There will always be something that we feel responsible for that requires maybe a little too much of our attention. And what would one eliminate anyway? If you have a family, that alone can swallow most of your day. And we certainly can't eliminate the only thing that puts food on the table. Our work is vitally important.

But, the good news is this. We CAN manage our peace of mind. That, in and of itself, will cause stress to diminish to a level we didn't think possible. Or, at the very least, not destroy our health.

Maybe the situations that happen within a 24 hour period of time can be seen as opportunities instead of obstacles. Doesn't our state of mind determine how we deal with daily happenings? I know. I know... Too many "opportunities" can be piled way too high on our backs and will cause our focus to switch back to obstacles, feeling our hands are tied and that we just can't get ahead.

Maybe we could change our perspective. Here are a few things that have helped me when I'm feeling overwhelmed, or stressed. Hopefully, they can help you, too.

1) Where did I wake up this morning? Was it in a free world, or was it in a world with severely limited resources? Also, consider the fact I DID wake up.
2) Did I wake up with a roof over my head? If I did, I have a lot to be grateful for.
3) Do I have my own transportation, aka/car or truck? Many don't.
4) Do I have employment? Many don't.

Synopsis: We've been taught to focus on what's going wrong in our part of the world (in our personal lives), instead of what's going right. I'm not saying we should stick our heads in the sand and ignore the difficulties, the facts of living life, but to choose to see the light that is all around us while we're walking through the dark.

Maybe gratitude is the answer to conquering stress...

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

Sleepless in North Carolina

I should be in bed. It's the time of the night that God created for rest. Going to bed early has its drawbacks, it would seem, but lately my body has demanded it be so. The last 3 days I have been a bit restless and not knowing why, exactly, end up hitting the sack way too early from sheer exhaustion. Maybe it's the lack of activity instead of too much activity? 🤷‍♀️

I do know this. We must find a solution for the amount of mosquitos that love our back yard, and ME! Last evening, while watering the plethora of plants under the arbor, that also has a continually running fountain (where mosquitos are NOT suppose to be because of the running water), I was attacked by 15 of those seemingly hungry blood suckers. Needless to say, I have very large, itchy, whelps up and down both arms. After washing my arms with soap and water, I smooth Cortizone Cream up and down the venomous entry ports. It helped for a while. Next attempt at relief I rub pure Rubbing Alcohol over every single bite. Now I smell horrible and my skin has the beginnings of Sahara-like dryness. 

Intense itching woke me at 1:23 AM this morning, and I have been up ever since. This has the makings of a long day, but I will find the silver lining.

After beginning a load of laundry and setting the security alarm (ahem, DW), my thoughts were to try going back to bed. Entering the kitchen, the smells of coffee waiting to be brewed, get my attention. I hesitate, but not for long. My eyes were wide open and I figured sleep was seriously off the table, still, I didn't want to wake my husband with the aroma that permeates our home when coffee is brewing. Yet, seeing the brew button in position, all that was left to do was simply press the on/off button to ON. Resistance is futile when it comes to the smells of Highlander Grogg Coffee (even before brewing). As liquid gold began its descent, I prep the coffee cup with a scoop of Collegene Peptides, 2 teaspoons of Beyond Brew Mushroom Coffee, and a pinch of Cinnamon, and wait patiently for the deliciousness to get its jam on. As I grab a fresh Cinnamon stick for stirring, I wonder if this is really coffee I'm about to drink. But...tiredness in my bones, and eyes refusing to close, here I stand, waiting for whatever this is, to ask permission to enter my body. Permission granted! Sorry D, I have a long day in front of me.

Three hours have passed since the early waking hour. The day has truly begun now that it's 4:30. Soon, the sun will light up the morning sky to declare more opportunities coming our way. Will I see them? Hopefully, the whole creation that resides within will be on high alert and not fall asleep in the middle of whatever, or whomever, is sent its way.

Heading back for another cup of joe, here you will find me...in Mary's World. ~Colossians 4:2

Early Morning Pondering...

Photo by Sam McNamara on Unsplash

Do you have a friend who makes you laugh? Treasure them.

I like being happy as much as the next guy. But what makes me the most secure is knowing I can choose something stronger. Something that carries me when the world says I should be sad. The solidness of joy is so much better than the fluidity of happiness.

Joy and happiness are different. They are not the same thing. We cannot be happy without being joyful, but we can be joyful without being happy. Think of it this way...

1) Happiness is external; joy is internal.
2) Happiness depends on outward circumstances; joy depends on inward character.
3) Happiness depends on what happens to us; joy depends on who lives inside us.
4) Happiness is based on chance; joy is based on choice and it can't be taken away from you.

Did you know that the word "happiness" comes from an old English word "happ" which literally means "chance?" The Latin word is "fortuna," meaning "luck." So, if things happen the way we want, then we are happy. But if they don't, well then, we are unhappy. Right?

Happiness is temporary, at best. Even fickle. Joy is permanent and settled. (Side Note: It's also why one seems so peaceful in the middle of stormy parts of life. That joy is what gives inner strength.)

I knew a woman that could "see" joy everywhere she went. I think it was just a part of her inward workings. It's where her strength came from. We were close friends. One afternoon, we (DW and I) and our friends were driving home from Joplin, MO. As her husband drove, she peered out the side window and noticed a group of trees whose branches formed the word "JOY". She brought everyones attention to them. "Look at those trees! They say JOY!" she exclaimed quietly. She was the only one I knew who could "exclaim quietly." Her demeanor spoke without the need for loudness. This is a true happening. She saw them at a distance and actually got a picture of them. Three trees snuggled together with branches reaching high towards the heavens. Wish I had that picture for proof. It was as perfect as one could imagine. Crazy, and we were unprepared for it. But it spoke volumes to her.

This friend, now gone from this earth, was my laughing partner. Wherever we found ourselves to be, you could bet it wouldn't be long before we were either snickering, or down-right laughing so hard we couldn't breathe. Then the throat clearing began. And more laughter. Coughing. More laughter. And on it would go for way too long.

On one occasion, we went with a group of ladies for a Women's Retreat in Branson, MO. at the Lake of the Ozarks. We found it quite interesting that we were voted on to share a room. As far away from the others as possible. That decision only served to give us fodder for more reasons to cackle. We left our mark on humanity, some would say.

I could use a get-away with her now. Missing my Jani, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

2 Corinthians 4:7

My Last Nerve...Whatever That Means

When did I become so impatient? Have I always been this way? I thought just being a mom would develop at least a little bit of patience. Maybe I was wrong.

This past Wednesday we had a state-of-the-art refrigerator freezer combo that cost a bazillion dollars, delivered to us because our 11 year + one seemed to have one leg in the grave and the other on a banana peel. It had started the process of expelling water in an uncomely manner, leaving puddles on our wooden floor. We had done everything the internet told us to do 'cause we trust the internet. Nothing worked like they said it would, so a changing-of-the-rag had to be applied. Daily.

Long (very long) story short, once the changing of the guard had happened, and the new kid on the block had begun to cool, I found myself getting the products (that had been sitting in the cooler for 3.5 hours) arranged inside their fancy new home. I was waiting to put the frozen items away because, well, because the freezer wasn't cooling down, let alone freezing! All surfaces felt hot to the touch. Even the outside of the unit felt hot, except for the top part which was the refrigerator part. And it felt downright cold!

Antsy me, put in a call to the powers that be. And they shot me down. Nothing they could do. They didn't schedule "repair jobs" on the same day something was delivered. I could bring the fridge back to the store and purchase another one, if I wanted, he said. "Why would I want to do THAT?!" I asked. "I just paid $XXXX for this one and it's not working. Why should I think another one would be any better? And besides that, it took TWO WEEKS to get this one after the order was put in." All he could say was, "I understand." "Do you?" I inquired. "Maybe the store would want to buy my frozen items that  cost somewhere in the neighborhood of $300, because they are about to go bad on me," said I. "Doesn't it stand to reason that a NEW fridge would actually work?" Again, all he could say was, "I understand." I think he was scared of me...

I decided to have Dennis take care of the matter because my neck was sweating. He's always so calm and laid back and believes everything will be okay. No matter how dire. "It will be okay, Mary. I'll take care of it after work." In about 3 minutes, I get a text message. "Get me the number for their corporate offices. They've made me mad." This was getting interesting. DENNIS was mad???! 

Just for fun, I pulled out the instruction booklet the delivery guys had left with me. The fridge has so many exciting facets to it, it practically hands us a glass of cold water before we ask. So I thought maybe there was a secret button that hadn't been turned on, or something, even though the delivery guy said I could start loading it immediately because it would be cooled down in nothing flat. 

Hmmmm...what's this? "Freezer compartment could take up to 24 hours to chill." I quietly laid the manual down and walked away.

Then, today while sitting at a red light that is known to turn green for 3 seconds, then back to red, my little Soul Red Mazda idled quietly behind a little fancy smancy Audi, both waiting patiently for their turn to gun it through the intersection before the light turned red again. Maybe if they both stayed alert it could be done. I was really hoping the owner of the Audi was paying attention because I was needing to get to the salon ahead of my client. And all it would take for me to lose another 15 minutes waiting for the light to turn green again, would be for the little Audi to be primping for all the BMW's, the Toyota 4Runner's, and the Mercedes Benz Coupes that were strutting by.  I knew it was going to happen. And it did. "GREEN LIGHT, LADY! GREEN LIGHT!" It could have been a guy behind the wheel of that fancy little Audi for all I knew. It's just easier to blame the ladies. Whoever was at the helm, just sat there letting the clock tick. I'm usually not so impatient, but I "lightly" tapped my horn. GET THE MOVE ON, LADY! GO!!! As the light was turning back to red, the Audi pulled out, leaving me to sit for another 15 minutes. But at least I was first in line for the next green light. My fingers gave the steering wheel a deep tissue massage...

Patience is over-rated. Nothing gets done without a bit of irritation. Becoming annoyed helps the body to pump blood and oxygen through cholesterol filled vessels and force them to organs in need. Right?

Waiting for the light on Kildaire and Cornwall to turn green, here you will find me...in Mary's World. 

My Prayer for the Aging

Let's not kid ourselves. Life is fleeting. We don't realize it in the moments of the day, nor when hours seem to never end. Moments, and hours, when quietness overtakes us. Moments when we feel the loneliness that runs deep because of losing someone we've lived with for most of our earthly life. Moments, that turn into hours, when the realm we find ourselves to be in, turns deathly quiet for lack of human connection. It's just you and the air you breathe.

Sure, there are passersby on the lonely street that runs in front of your dwelling. Sure, the sun does come up every day, even when the clouds cover it. Sure, we still have those memories, that are on constant replay, of days gone by. But how long will it be before we actually feel another's arms wrapped around us? How long before another actually wants to be with us? How long before someone will want to hear about our memories, or simply want to engage us in conversation, as they share their own life with us?

Survival comes in many forms, yet the best one I have found, as the years are whizzing past me, comes from within. God has provided us with a way of escape. From all things fearful. And He instilled it deep within our spirit. Aging need not be fearful.

My prayer for you is this.

• May humanity (especially those you love) remember there is a young person that lives inside your aging body.
• May you age gracefully, never forgetting who you are and whose you are.
• May you appreciate the rising of the sun. Even when the clouds try hiding it.
• May you breathe fresh air daily. Memo: This requires getting out of the house even when you don't feel like it.
• May you continue to live life to the fullest your body will allow.
• May you hear the birds rejoice because you are listening to them.
• May you feel the breeze comfort you, as it gently blows softly around you.
• May you always know when a mosquito is about to draw your blood. Then destroy it. I still haven't found a purpose for those mean suckers.
• May you always kick the rocks to the side of the road.
• May you always remember that you have been loved by another. Also, Read Romans 8:38-39.
• May you always pray for those you know nothing about. And for those you know so much about.
• May you always see the beauty right in front of your eyes, regardless of what is happening around, and possibly to you.
• May you continue to give love away. Memo: Resentment comes easily. Love is a choice (a bit harder, but doable).
• May you never fear falling. It's okay to fear getting back up. But get back up!
• May you always speak the name of Jesus when fear tries to over-take you.
• May your children (or anyone, really) remind you of this prayer should you forget.

As always, here you will find me, kicking rocks...in Mary's World

P.S. Anything you would like to add? Go ahead and leave a comment, if you wish.