Thursday, May 28, 2009

My Mom as a young adult.


"The Devil Made Her Do It"

The last story on my blog was of how my Mother got the nickname, "Frog Walker." As I have told you before, the first memory I have of her was the two of us sitting in the old squeeky front porch swing laughing, swinging and best of all listening to her tell me the stories of her past. And, what a past she had. When I was a Freshman in high school I missed my Mother one evening and went to look for her. I found her sitting in that old swing crying. I sat down beside her, put my arm around her and said, "Oh, Momma, don't cry. I can't stand it when you cry because you are the best person in the entire world." She laughed, wiped her eyes and said, "Honey, you don't know me very well. We all have a little mean streak in us. I'm no different than anybody else. Sometimes the devil just gets the best of all of us."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
She started laughing and laughed until again she was crying.
"I was just thinking of something I did when I was about eight years old."
"What, Momma, what did you do?"
She told me this story:

Back when I was a young girl people didn't travel like they do these days. Most folks, especially in the country, still traveled by horse and wagon or buggy. And, folks didn't travel very much in the winter months. Summer, summer was the time people visited each other. Most of the time my Momma and Papa were the ones everyone came to visit because we didn't have a car or a horse and wagon so unless we borrowed my Grandpa Walker's horse, we stayed home and everybody came to our house. Momma was a good cook, always had a big garden and loved most people who came so it was a joy for her, however, there was one relative she did not like at all and dreaded his visits with a passion. That was my Papa's first cousin, Luther Walker. He always drove a big new, shinny car and everywhere he went he brought along his three precious blue tick hounds. He thought more of those hounds than he did most people. He bragged on how beautiful they were, how they were the best huntin' dogs in six counties and how smart they were.
Late one summer evening in July, here he came driving his big car with the three old hound dogs hanging out of the back windows. Momma didn't know I knew, but, I had overheard her and Papa once talking about the fact that one of the reasons she had such a distaste for Luther was the fact that he had made his money running moonshine in Knox and the surrounding counties. Now Momma would put up with a lot of things from the relatives but "booze" in her house was simply not allowed. A little blackberry wine was not considered as sinful as what Luther drank and made it's way to the table occasionally. It really got under her skin that when he came for a visit, Luther always carried a bottle of "white lightening" in his back pocket which he covered with a big silk handkerchief.
"He thinks he's foolin' us and that makes me mad as a wet hen. He is not foolin' nobody." She told my Papa.
After he had settled in and put his dogs in the pen out behind the house, Momma served a dinner fit for royalty and we all went to bed.
Besides drinking, Momma did not allow animals in her house either. The house was very small and she could not abide by the smell and mess they made.
Having to put his dogs out back just rubbed Luther the wrong way and so everytime he came for a visit, he made trip after trip out back to check on the critters and, if the truth be known, to also have a drink.
Long after everyone had gone to sleep, I had to go to the outhouse so I quietly eased off the sofa, where I had to sleep when we had overnight company, and tiptoed to the outhouse. I had just finished my business when, by the light of the moon, I saw Luther through a crack in the outhouse door. He had come out to check on his dogs. It was just about then that old mean devilish streak caused me to do what I did next. I eased out of the outhouse and hid over behind the woodpile which was just behind the dog pen. I knew he always talked to his dogs like they were human and could answer him back, so I waited.
"Howdy there, old girl,"he said to his favorite dog as he took the bottle from his back pocket and took a big swig. "How you doin' tonight you beauty you."
"I'm doin' fine." I said in my lowest voice.
Luther, tilted his head, looked at the dog and said,"I said, how you doin' old gal." To which I answered,"I'm fine I told ya."
Luther took a step back and said, "YOU G D DOG ARE YOU TALKIN' TO ME?"
"Sure am!", I replied.
Luther turned and started to run into the house, then he stopped, put the bottle of "white lightning" on my Papa's chopping block and ran on into the house.
The next morning I was setting the table for breakfast when Luther came out of the bedroom bags in hand.
"Leavin' so soon?" Papa asked.
"I didn't sleep a wink last night. I had me a terrible experience. One that has made me think I need to stop my drinkin'. Bruce, I swear one of them dogs actually talked to me last night. I swear it!"
I turned away and giggled quietly to myself, but, when I looked up there stood Momma.
She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "It was you, wasn't it?"
I smiled and nodded my head. Momma shock her head and turned to the stove to finish cooking breakfast. I could see her body shaking... 'cause she was laughing too.


Mom laughed. I laughed and we went to bed happy. She had forgotten all about what had made her cry earlier.

Friday, May 22, 2009

The little face on the left is the face of "Frog Walker"who found out what she was made of the first week of first grade.


Today A friend and I were discussing the subject of "self-image" and "self-esteem"...what influences it, where does it comes from etc. etc. I could not help remembering a story my mother, Troy Walker Little, told me about something that happened to her just before she started to school.

She had talked about school for months to anyone who would listen and was so excited to be going to school. When she was only five years old, she played school, studied her alphabet, and learned to write her name. She was to start first grade in September of 1918. In July her mother, Katie Walker, noticed that she was not her usual playful self. For several days she was sluggish, had no appetite, and had started running a slight fever. When Katie could not get her fever down by using her "tried and true" home remedies, she ask her husband, Bruce, to go for the Doctor. They lived in the country between Sevier and Knox counties where there was one old country Doctor to service the needs of miles of folks. After observing and caring for her for two days, he called Katie and Bruce out of her room..."Folks, it is not good news. She has Scarlet Fever." Katie gasped and Bruce hit the door facing with his fist. He was a hot-headed Scottsman.
Day after day they stood watch, taking turns bathing her body with cool water from the spring out back but still she showed no improvement. Finally, the Doctor called them aside and gave them news they never imagined they would hear about their precious and precocious little girl. The Doctor said, "I don't expect her to make it through the night."
Bruce went over to her bed, knelt beside it and stroked her little wet head, " Hey little Darlin' is there anything you want? Anything, anything at all because I'll get it for you."
To his surprise she opened her sad, tired eyes and in a weak, soft voice she answered, "Ice cream, please." Store bought ice cream was a rare treat back in the late 1900's especially to country folk.
"Ice cream! Well, alright then." Bruce jumped up, grabbed his hat and started for the door.
"You can't give dairy to someone with a fever," the Doctor scolded. It's crazy. She'll just throw it up."
Bruce shook his finger in the Doctor's face. "If my baby is gonna leave this world tonight and she wants ice cream, then ice cream she's gonna get and THAT IS THAT!"
The Doctor shook his head as Bruce scurried out the door.
"Don't worry Doc, as hot as "hit" is out there "hit'll" melt before he gets back with it." Katie always had a calmness about her and was usually the voice of reason in the Walker house.
About forty minutes later the old screen door squeaked letting them know that Bruce was back. He was holding a package wrapped in layers and layers of news paper. He took from it the carton of ice cream and started feeding it to little Troy. She ate and ate and then fell asleep. The three adults took a chair beside her bed to stand watch and probably to say goodbye... but one by one they fell asleep.
When the first light of day came streaking through the window, a voice said, "Papa! Papa I'm thirsty." The three adults sprang to their feet. Katie shouted, " Thank the good Lord!"
"That ice cream must have broke her fever," the Doctor exclaimed.
Bruce ran out onto the front porch where several family members and neighbors had been holding a prayer vigil all night. "She's alive", he threw up his hands and said, " And, she's thirsty. Somebody go down to the spring and bring my little girl a cold drink of water."
By the end of the month the Scarlet Fever had taken it's tole and Troy lost all her hair.
"It'll grow back before school, won't it Momma?" Katie knew that it would not but kept smiling and hoping for a miracle. However, the week before the first day of school she realized that she would have to provide the miracle if there was to be one.
While Troy was trying to go to sleep before the "big day" she kept hearing a clicking sound from the living room. She was such a curious child, she just had to slip out of bed and peep through the door into the living room to see what was making the noise. She saw her mother working away with her knitting needles. "What 'ya doin', Momma?"
"You are suppose to be asleep. Now scoot little girl."
When Troy woke the next morning, she sat up in bed and rubbed her big brown eyes. She noticed that there was something hanging on her bed post. On closer inspection, she realized that it was a little knit cap just her size. Katie had worked way into the night to make it for her. All she had on hand was green yarn so Troy got a green cap...like it or not.
On her way to school several of the other children started laughing at her cap and asking why she was wearing a knit cap in the heat of summer. One of the boys yelled, "You look like a toad frog." All the children laughed. She just ignored them and walked on.
After she had taken her seat in the classroom (which was right up front), the teacher explained that if anyone had to go to the outhouse they were to write their name (if they could) on the black board, excuse themselves and then erase it when they returned. It was almost like an invitation because one after the other the students filed up, wrote their names and went to the outhouse. Finally, Troy had to answer the call of nature so she proudly wrote her name, "T r o y" and went outside. When she returned she noticed that almost all of the class was giggling quietly and looking at her. She checked her skirt, then straightened her little green cap and turned toward the board to erase her name. There on the board someone (probably one of the boys who was teasing her on the way to school) had placed a bar in the middle of the "T" changing it to an "F" and had enclosed the "y" making it a "g". "Frog". She felt tears well up in her eyes but wipped her eyes, erased the board and sat down.
On the way home all the children, with the exception of her best friend, Mike, taunted her calling her"Frog Walker". They teased, laughed and pointed. One even ask her if she ate flies.
The next three days were just the same. More teasing and everytime she went out someone changed her name on the board.
She was overcome with shame and sadness and ran all the way home from school.
"I'm not goin' back. Never, ever!"she told Katie.
When she explained to Katie what had happend for the last three days, Katie took her tiny face in her hands and said, "Now listen to me, child, don't you let anybody tell you who you are. You are Troy Walker, one of the smartest and sweetiest little girls around. Don't you let them or anybody else make you feel bad about you, you hear me? You jest hold up your head high and go right on."
Katie wipped Troy's tears.
The next morning it was the same old thing. She tried to ignore them. She tossed her green capped head high in the air and walked as fast as she could to escape them. She tried with all her might to hold her water but after a while she had to go to the outhouse. She walked up, wrote her name on the board and could hear the giggles already. She lowered her head and started to walk away. And then, she heard her mother's voice as clear as if she was standing right there,"Don't you let anyone tell you who you are. You are Troy Walker. Hold your head high." Suddenly, she had a wicked, wonderful thought. She walked back to the board, made a bar in the middle of the T and enclosed the y. "Frog", she wrote. She giggled and left. When she returned nobody even noticed. She had robbed them of their joyful, evil tricks. She had won!!

I told my friend that I wish I had more of the spirit of "Frog Walker" in me. Don't we all?

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

When you have words flying around in your head 24-7 and you are able to put them together, mix them with a little bit of your heart and soul and then put them on paper...it is a joyful thing.

It has been a pleasure!!!

From my photo card collection:



Monday, May 18, 2009

He was a star in more ways than one!


Tribute to a football star

If you showed a picture of Peyton Manning to most people in this country and ask them if they know who he is, they would probably be able to tell you because he is a great football quarterback. Most certainly people in East Tennessee could tell you who he is. However, if you showed them the picture above and ask them who it is, you might hear, "Don't know, never saw him before." That is, unless you ask people who grew up in Eastern TN in the fifties and sixties. They would tell you, "Oh yes, that is "Cotton" Letner. He was a great football player."
I entered highschool in 1956 and because I had been a cheerleader in Jr. high and enjoyed it, I decided to try out for high school cheerleader. I did and I made it. Not only did I enjoy cheerleading but my father was a volunteer trainer for the high school football team and I thought it might give us something in common. We had little in common. One day I was rushing through the halls, dodging upper classmen to get to cheerleading practice and I heard a voice say,"Here comes that cute little "Little" girl"(my maiden name was Little). First, I could not believe that anyone would think I was cute and secondly, when I turned around and saw that it was, "Cotton" Letner, a star football and basketball player, I turned as red as the blouse I was wearing. That was the beginning. From that day on, on the football field, the bus rides to games or on campus, he teased me, talked to me and befriended me. He found out that I liked Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher so he started calling me, "Debbie" and told me to call him ,"Eddie" (his steady girlfriend didn't mind...I was like a little sister). I really think he could tell how insecure and intimidated I was by my peers especially upper classmen.
He was born, Robert Letner but everybody called him, "Cotton". We grew up in the same county in Eastern TN where we all had the necessities of life but not a lot of stuff and things. He stood tall, was muscular, had naturally curly sandy blonde hair and the most adorable dimples ever which were accented when he smiled. He was probably the best football and basketball player (football for sure) to ever play for Meigs County High School in Decatur, TN. After high school, he went on to play for the mighty Volunteers at the University of TN on a scholarship.
In the fall of 1959 I entered the University of Tennessee. I was well aware, as were most folks in East TN, that he was a UT football star and thought that he probably would not give me the time of day...after all, I was just a lowly Freshman and he was a Jr AND a big football star. The first week of school I was walking into the Student Center and I heard a voice, "Debbie", over here, it's me, "Eddie"." When I turned, there he stood smiling from ear to ear, books in hand, talking to some of his fellow football buddies. He called me over, introduced me, then put his arm around my shoulder and said, "Now, if you need anything you let me know and tell "The Preacher"(my Dad) that I'm gonna take care of ya." I walked away...all 5'2" 90lbs of me feeling 6 ft. tall. That was "Cotton"..that was how he was.
I have not seen him since college but he is the kind of guy you never forget. Yesterday, just a day after the class of '59 celebrated a 50th reunion, a fellow classmate sent me an e mail that read:
"Got word that Cotton Letner died today." I sobbed like a baby. He will be missed! Thank you "Cotton" for all the excitiing games but most of all Thanks for being a good friend!

Sunday, May 17, 2009

My Senior Picture


Precious Memories

Today I have been humming the old hymn, "Precious Memories", all day and I am sure I know why. Yesterday, May 16, I attended my 50th high school reunion. Some of the verses to the song are:
Precious memories how they linger
How they ever flood my soul.
Precious father, loving mother
Fly across the lonely years
And old home scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appears.
As I travel on life's pathway
Know not what the years may hold
As I ponder, hope grows fonder.
Precious memories flood my soul.

I walked into the room where the reunion was being held. I was nervous and unsure of myself. For weeks, everytime I passed a mirror and saw that old gal...overweight, gray on top, and wrinkled, I would say, "I am not going". Thank goodness I decided to put those thoughts and my fears aside and go. I looked around the room and one after another I saw the faces of my classmates. I began to tremble. Never did I guess that I would be affected like I was. My heart started racing and I was overwhelmed. I don't know what made me do it, but, I just started hugging everyone I saw. With one look into their eyes and few words exchanged, I was 17 again. I thought to myself, "I don't usually hug anyone but family." And, then it occured to me...this is my family. We shared four important, life changing years together. We laughed together, we cried together, we learned together, we grew together and, after all, isnt that what a family does. They were like cousins I had not seen in a very long time. Some of the guys looked absolutely shocked when I grabbed them and hugged them because in high school that would not have happened. Back then, some people thought I was distant and others called me, "Stuck up" but nothing could have been further from the truth...I was just simply shy and very very insecure. We don't realize it when we are young and going through it, but, through those years, we really grow to love our classmates. Yes, I love these people...even the ones I thought hated me and a few who were mean to me LOL way back when. But, you know the best thing of all? We decided to meet again in a year. Life happens fast and seeing the six candles burning for those we had lost made me realize that we need to savor and make all the precious memories we can.
Thank you Mary Evelyn for all the hard work you did to make this reunion possible.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Bart waiting for the "L" in Chicago. Always thinking!


He was my first born child.

If you knew my Bart, you'd know what he would say about today's blog..."Well, Mom, I see you saved the best for last". Humor is a gift that flows through him. He was my first born child...and you only have one of those. I ache for first children because they are the ones we learn on...remember all those books you read on parenting and how you tried it all out on that oldest kid. Poor kid. But, none of my parental failures stopped this kid from becoming the strong, tenacious, self-sufficient, responsible, talented man he is today. All you have to do is spend 10 minutes conversing with Bart to realize that there is a lot of substance between his ears.
From childhood, he was like a sponge, soaking in knowledge any where he could find it. And, talent? Well, I'll tell you that this kid has more talent in his little toe that I have in my entire body. He showed a talent for art at an early age and even drew pictures all around the bathtub at the age of three while taking a soak. (private joke)
As the oldest of four, he sometimes had to take a back seat but never complained. He has always taken his responsibilities as the older sibling of three brothers very seriously and been a supportive force in the lives of his brothers. Yes, they all look up to their older brother.
I mentioned talent earlier...he has been an actor (doing movies and tv), comedian (performed at the Chicago Improv for years as well as all over the country), a director, an artist (both in fine and commercial art), a writer and is a dang good photographer(ck out his Flickr site on my favorites). He also spent several years in the navy in naval intelligence and was the honor recruit of his class. And, like the rest of us, he is an avid gamer. Now, I ask you, is that not talent?
Bart has two sons from his first marriage and is now married to a very intelligent young woman who is a dedicated teacher in the Chicago inner-city school system. She will make a difference.
He does not just "talk the talk" when it comes to changing his world but is an active participante.
The life lesson Bart taught me was not to be materialistic. I do believe that he would actually take the shirt off his back and give it to someone if he thought they needed it more.
If I seem to have been boastful and or proud this week while introducing my four sons to you, I apologize...NO! No, I don't. Oh, I know they can't walk on water and "OH BROTHER!" have we ever had our share of ups and some real downs, but, you see, from infancy to manhood, I consider it such a privilege and blessing to have been able to share this life journey with these four fine, interesting young men. Thanks for the memories, kids!

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Tim in his car.


He was my baby for 13 years.

When he was only a preschooler, Tim saved his money for weeks and weeks for a trip up to Gatlinburg. Once there, he held his little money bag close to his body and looked and looked to find just the right item to purchase. As we made our way down the shop lined streets, we came to a fake well on the street with a sign explaining that all the money in the well would be donated to help crippled children. "Why is that here, Momma?", he ask as he looked inside at all the money at the bottom of the well. I explained that some children were not as blessed as he and his brother were and that the money would be used to purchase crutches, wheel chairs etc. for children who were crippled. We started to walk on down the street but noticed that Tim was still standing by the well looking inside it. "Come on, Honey", I beckoned. He looked up at me with those beautiful eyes and with a smile, he poured all his money into the well and he was never sorry he did it. That is my Tim.
I told you that each of my sons taught me a life lesson...Tim taught me to give. He was always that way.
Several year ago, he married a very lovely and talented young woman who had three teenagers...she happens to be a great cook too. (Go to her site in my favorites...it's Foothill Primitives) He loves those kids as if they were his own and is now the Grandfather of three. I am so proud of the way he interacts with his Grandchildren and of the love he gives them.
I had to use a picture of him in a car because that kid has always LOVED cars...especially Formula One racing. His office is filled with memorabilia of Formula One events he has attended. If I were a rich woman that kid would be driving a big red Ferrari...the car of his dreams. Next to cars he LOVES cats and has had a cat since he was able to carry one in his arms.
Although he is a business man, he is a talented craftsman as well. I don't think there is much of anything he can not repair or build. He has taken broken tables, chairs etc. and made them look new for me. He even carves missing parts.
He is an avid gamer and has taught himself to play a pretty mean guitar lately.
That's my Tim!

Wednesday, May 13, 2009


Todd respresenting UT Law School at Yale


TODD REPRESENTING UT LAW AT YALE FOR MAULK TRIAL....He won!

Something to Celebrate!

I guess it is because Mother's Day was this weekend...I am not sure, BUT, for some reason my sons are on my mind more than usual this week. Since I wrote the piece about my son, Chad, I have been inspired to write a little bit about my other three sons over the next few days.
Because we really have something to celebrate with our youngest son, Todd, today it's his turn. When I called to tell him what I was doing, he said, "That's okay, Mom, but PLEASE no stories about embarrassing things I did when I was little." LOL.
"I'm saving that for my book," I told him joking. I promised him I wouldn't tell kid stories, so I will keep that promise. I could, however, write a book about each one of my sons as I suppose any Mom could do but I will save them the embarrassment and just get 'em in my blogs some.

Todd is a very hard worker. He was always the kid who wanted to win the prize, get the A etc. When he was a Sophomore in highschool he took a class which was an introduction to Law. At the end of the class, they staged a trial in which he was given the task of being one of the trial lawyers. The teacher gave the students a situation and they had to treat it as though they were real lawyers trying a real case...they had to take the facts, develop a case and try it. As I sat watching him, I realized that he was really really good at it. After the class, he decided he wanted to persue becoming a lawyer. Following under grad school he was accepted in law school and worked very hard through a lot of difficult circumstances. Earlier this month he found out that he passed his Bar exam and last Monday was sworn in. He is now a working lawyer. YEAH! Way to go, Todd. Congratulations!

I mentioned before that each of my sons taught me a life lesson. Todd taught me to forgive. He is the most forgiving person I have ever known and teaches by example. And, every year on my birthday he takes me to a UT football game and we have a ball!

Monday, May 11, 2009

"The Party's Over"


CHAD BEHIND THE EIGHT BALL
My house is quiet now...filthy, lol,(It can be cleaned) but very quiet! We are alone again.
I drove my son to the airport and saw him off to the big city to live his life. A life we once thought was an impossibility. After five years of trying, yearning and seeing specialist, we were told we could never have a child of our own, SO, when we found out that Chad was on the way our entire family was elated. I remember that my second son, Tim, who LOVES cats, had just lost his favorite cat and was very sad. When I found out I was going to have a baby, I told Tim that I was going to get him something much better than a cat. He looked up at me through sad, little eyes and said, "But, Momma, I don't like dogs so much".
Although I believe that ALL children are blessings from God, we called Chad our, "Miracle Child". (Then eighteen months later we had another miracle lol). Chad was a child that beammed. Always smiling and friendly to everyone he met. He was almost like an adult in a child's body... smart, aware and interactive. I often tell people that each one of my sons taught me a life lesson. Chad taught me not to judge people by their outward appearance but to wait and get to know them and their circumstances before making judgements.
About three years ago we noticed subtle changes in his personality and thought it was because he had had some life changing experiences in NYC...living through 911, a violent robbery in his apartment (not to mention the fact that as a part of his job in television news he has to view raw footage of things nobody should have to see) that had caused these changes. However, two years ago, after a battery of extensive tests, he was told that he has MS. Folks, I have lost family and friends to cancer, heart attacks etc. and they are all bad. I have a son who has suffered a heart attack and has diabetes and yes, that is bad, BUT, I am telling you now...MS is a mean and sneaky disease. And, the medication to keep it controlled is almost as bad as the disease. Out of respect for my son I won't go into the details, but, I ask you to read about this disease that takes control over the lives of many, many people across this country and then if you have the opportunity to even give a dollar to aid in the research to find a cure for it, PLEASE donate. Scientist are very close to finding a cure now and "PLEASE God, let it be in Chad's lifetime".
And, what kind of Mom would I be if I didn't encourage you to go to my favorites and check out Chad's photo site. He happens to be a brilliant photographer. By the way, the first young woman on his headshot's list is his wife, Amanita...lucky man, right? She is an actress and is with the Juilliard School.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Today is "Mother's Day"!
The first memory I have of my Mother is of the two of us sitting in the front porch swing... swinging, singing, and telling stories. Funny how I can close my eyes and actually see us there. I can hear her sweet, gentle voice and see her big brown eyes twinkle as she'd spin her tales. And, when I go there in my mind's eye, it makes me feel so warm, happy and secure. I was blessed beyond words with an angle of a Mom. She was my mentor, my example, my best friend.
When I was in grade school I always had mixed emotions on Mother's Day. Back in the day, on Mother's Day men, women and children wore a flower pinned to their clothing in memory of their mothers...a red flower if your mother was alive and a white flower if she had departed. My father was a Baptist minister and every Mother's Day when we would get ready to go to church my Mom, my sister and I would pin on our red flowers but my Dad had to wear a white one for the mother who died when he was eighteen months old. I always felt so sad for him and would always give him an extra hug before leaving for church. I wonder if that custom still exists today? I seriously doubt it.
You know how you sometimes wonder if you were the best Mom you could have been. You second guess your decisions of the past...like leaving your children to work and not being there when they came home from school or not being there to tuck them in at bedtime. And, the decisions you made during those teenage years...OH MY! did I do the right thing?? After this weekend, I don't think I will ever worry about that again. My third son flew in to be with me for the weekend, my second and youngest came over for what I thought was going to be a visit with their brother, but, turned out to be a "Mom celebration". And, to top it all, just as we were preparing to have dinner a big brown truck pulled into my driveway and delivered the most beautiful floral arrangement from my first born son. The arrangement was full of my mother's favorite flowers. Flowers she always grew in her garden. The card inside read: "I Love you, Mom. Keep on blogging, Bart". I was seriously overwhelmed. I felt like Sally Field's when she accepted her Academy Award. She came to the stage, looked out at the audience and through tears said, " You like me, you really really like me".

Friday, May 8, 2009

Little Boys

I waited in the long, wide airport corridor for his plane to land. Suddenly, he appeared at the gate and started walking toward me. As he approached I did not see a 34 year old married, professional man who lives in one of the largest cities in the world. I saw a three year old...grinning from ear to ear, hair bouncing, blue eyes twinkling. I saw my little boy. As we drove away from the airport I wondered, "Do we ever see our sons as anyone other than our little boys?" Later this evening I got the answer to my question when my 47 year old son who is the Grandfather of three offered to carry down the cook out garbage and put it in the can AND I handed him the garbage, looked at him and said, "Be careful going down the stairs, Honey".

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Rain! Rain! Rain! For the last few days it has been raining buckets here in Eastern TN. BUT, I guess I should be grateful for all the positives the rain brings. I am reminded of a question I heard this morning from someone on television. The question was,"What is the secret of true happiness?" I learned at an early age that, for me, the secret of happiness is to walk in gratitude. A lesson my loving, intelligent Mother taught me...you might say, "the hard way". We lived in a small town here in TN where people were blessed with the necessities of life but not an abundance of stuff and things. When my sister and I would complain and complain about what we did not have...store bought clothing, a big house, a boat etc. we'd find ourselves knocking at the door of one of the town's most impoverished families with a basket of goodies (good, but used clothing most often made by my Mother, food items and even flowers from her garden). She was smart enough to know that talking at us would not do as much good as showing us. So, like clockwork, as soon as we would start our moaning, she'd start humming hymns and packing a box of goodies for us to deliver. We soon got the message that if we were gonna feel sorry for ourselves and complain, we should do it quietly and out of her ear's range.
Thinking of those days reminds me that in a week I go to my 50th highschool reunion. I look in the mirror at the wrinkled face looking back and then scan down to the flab and have second thoughts about going. OH, I forgot..."Walk in gratitude, Sandra". Yes, I am wrinkled and overweight but I don't have cancer, am not in a wheelchair etc. and I will admit that it will be so good to see all those people that were young with me and shared those years of pop quizes, football and basketball games, dating and that good old fifties "Rock and Roll" that my Father told me would corrupt my mind and lead me to hell. That class of 1959...all those young lives that have now been lived. These are the positive things I must fill my mind with these next few days until I see those faces that shared my youth.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

And the classes went well

Today my daughter-in-law, Betsy, came over and boy is she a good teacher. This ole gal has learned some stuff about a blog...you will see in the future.

Monday, May 4, 2009

It's a beautiful morning in Eastern TN. The rain left reflective puddles, flowers with water droplets on every petal and a clean earthy smell in the air. I couldn't resist getting out and taking pics of the morning which I will post at a later date.
This weekend my son, Chad, who lives in NYC is coming for a visit. Since we only see him about twice a year our house is bursting with excitement and plans for baking homemade cookies and a family cookout.
My daughter-in-law, Betsy, comes tomorrow to help me work on this blog and the jewelry making is still rolling on. And, I thought retirement meant rest, reading and more rest. Not for this old girl, and, I like it that way!

Sunday, May 3, 2009



“Santa Fe Explosion”
The first time I went to Santa Fe, NM
I was like a kid in a toy store. The buildings
seem to rise from the desert as if they were
a part of the natural surroundings. The shops
were filled with beautiful original art and turquoise
and silver handmade jewelry. AND, I will never
forget the red peppers. Red peppers everywhere!
Carts on the sidewalk filled with strings of red
pepper and red pepper wreaths hanging on
gates, fences, doors and walls.
This piece was inspired by my first visit to Santa Fe.
It features 4 Jasper turquoise discs and one faux turquoise
pendant which I have adorned with silver wire work.
The discs and pendant are hung from silver Pony beads.
I chose to add these red glass beads because they reminded
me of the red peppers I saw there. Finally I finished it with
turquoise gemstone chips and a silver rope toggle.
This piece is heavy, therefore, I strung it on heavy
silver beading wire. It measures approx 22” with a
3” pendant.

Occasionally, I will post a photo and story of one of my pieces of jewelry. Today I have chosen "Santa Fe Explosion". I love the west and specialize in turquoise designs. Enjoy! and if you like what you see, please visit my shop in Etsy by clicking on the Etsy link in the upper right hand corner under "Find my work".

And a new day begins!

Yeah and Hip Hip Hurrrrrrah this old lady has a blog.........now she must decide what to do with it!!!!
I have been designing since I was two years old and told my Mom that my doll's dress was ugly. Seriously folks. I can remember having a project going on every table in the house and my Dad getting upset with me because he had to eat his dinner on a tv tray. My husband, Ed, can also attest to the fact that I always have something going. For the last 30 years we have traveled as much as possible and taken photos of all the places we have been. Today, I make photo cards and prints from that collection of travel photographs. My latest venture is jewelry. I love, love, love designing and creating jewelry. My hubby(God love him for his patience) says,"Darlin' you have to find a way to pass on your creations if you insist on creating more and more and more" LOL. Therefore, I set up an Etsy store where I sell my work. I will use this blog to show my designs of jewelry and photo work.
And on this rainy spring day in eastern TN where the leaves are rapidly filling the trees, the grass is growing so fast it needs cutting weekly and the spring flowers have come and gone, this old lady says goodbye for now.