Grandma Mary with two of her sons, Clarence on the left and my Grandfather Lonnie on the right.

This is my Great Grandmother, Mary. I know so little about her. Her life could not have been easy. She was half Cherokee Indian and married to .... I know nothing about my Great grandfather. I probably should talk to my Dad about his Grandfather. The first picture was taken somewhere between 1910 and 1915, the second was taken in the early 1950's.

I look at her face and wonder. What were her hopes and dreams? Did life measure up to her expectations? What difficulties did she face? Oh, I know that she had to feed and clothe a passel of kids, most of them boys. I know that they lived in rather primitive conditions on the farm. But who was she? What did she think about in those moments of calm and contemplation. What was she thinking in that second picture as she neared the end of her life? I remember seeing her near the time of that picture. I was only about three or so, but just her age was impressive to me. She seemed so fragile, so delicate a bit like a flower that was past its bloom and would fall if you touched the petals.

I really must finish the Heirloom photo album I've started. Some of this history needs to be recorded.

Spring Break

The girls on the train -- headed to Chicago!

The girls and I on arrival

Having fun looking at all the beautiful dolls.

Lunch presentation was great (There were five pretzel rolls-- we were very hungry!!!)

Three friends! (And a bit of chocolate mousse on one face!)

After lunch -- the big girls are on a potty break. Mikaela and her doll continue lunch!

Ready for lunch. My good friend, Laura, and I took her granddaughter and doll, my granddaughters and dolls to lunch! What fun!

We had a great time. Even though...get this...it was snowing in Chicago!!! Yep. I said snow -- you know, that cold white stuff that melts when you get in the house! And on the train ride home, the snow keep accumulating more and more the further west we got. Right now, it's still snowing here. We have at least another inch and a half. This is MARCH 27!!!

It was a lovely day anyway!

I found this over at Linda's at 2nd Cup of Coffee. 'Twas fun!!

I am a Canna What Flower Are You?

This is What Kind Of Flower I Am

A Canna

"You stand up for what you believe in, even if it gets in the way of what other people think. You are proud of yourself and your accomplishments and you enjoy letting people know that."

(And I'm still not very blogative. I scrapbooked today....I am sooooooo far behind!!)

PALM SUNDAY
March 16, 2008
(Yeah more than a week ago!)

May I make you some tea.

I can jump high!

Tea is ready.

Look how high I can jump!

And I can be a lady too!

I'm not feeling so "blogative" today but I have unpublished pictures!!

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter

It was a lovely day. I hosted; Christy made that marvelous cake!! Rob made the best scalloped potatoes ever; Neal brought the turkey and ham; Laura made the deviled eggs and yams; I did the fresh asparagus, designed the tables; Bob brought the edible creations centerpiece and set up tables. My grandbabies were with the other Grandmother, but I saw them at church in their Easter dresses. We took pictures there!!

Adventures on the Second Day of Spring

This is the second day of Spring, late in the day. I did not manage to get pictures during the huge blizzard between 2 and 3:30 p.m. I was out getting new placemats for Easter dinner (mine are getting very worn!). The storm came rather suddenly after being predicted for more than 12 hours. We got 4 or 5 inches in about two hours.

Oh yes, no pictures of the storm. Did I mention my camera was locked in my car? Along with my wallet, money, credit card, cell phone and . . . car keys!! I was outside the car with my trusty ice scraper snow brush firmly in hand.

I waited out the storm in comfort on a lovely leather sofa in my favorite store, accompanied by my ice scraper. But...Prince Charming drove through the blizzard with my spare car key and rescued me from leather sofa boredom!

Happy Springtime!

Kid's Choir Practice

This is our Tuesday night class practicing for Easter (First time practice!) I love it because their personalities show. Don't miss the little boy on the left...he bursts into motion from time to time. :) Then there's the cutie patootie with the cat under her arm, and the young lady in green who keeps everybody in time clapping with the backward elbow movement! I'll be quiet and let them speak for themselves!!

Ladies' Tea Party

We had a delightful time last Sunday at Tea. What, I ask you, is there about organizing ladies' events that frightens me so? An innate sense of inadequacy rises to the surface drowning out compentency, past successful experiences, my usual sense of well-being and balance. It's as though I'm on a pinnacle and could either experience euphoria or a terrifying long fall to the bottom.

Maybe it's those motherless years when I attended "Ladies Auxiliary" meetings and felt so like a duck out of water. Maybe its based in those years of upbringing and not typically feminine activities -- working the fields, hunting, fishing, preparing game for meals. I was always good at sports and liked climbing trees, riding horses, hiking and baseball.

Maybe it's simply an expression of pride. After all, what is a "typical" female? Are we not all unique and different? Therefore, the "differentness" I feel is a universal experience.

And...maybe, just maybe, God will speak to me about this issue in the days to come.

But whatever comes. I had a lovely day. At tea we laughed, shared, and prayed together.

What's the old bulletin line? "A good time was had by all!" :)

Finding our way

A few years ago a friend came to talk about her anxieties. She was frustrated, couldn't get anything accomplished. She was spinning her wheels in activitiy, but couldn't find peace.

"What are you avoiding?" I asked. "What is there that you know you have to do, but don't want to do it?"

I had seen her frenetic activity and recognized it. Did I mention that I had been there too?

Immediately she knew what it was, took care of a task she'd been avoiding, and voila' her anxieties were relieved. Life leveled out again.

In II Kings 1, Ahaziah, son of Ahab and Jezebel was having a bad day. He succeeded Ahab, then Moab rebelled. Next Ahaziah had an accident. He fell through a lattice and became very ill. He wanted to know if he would be alright. So, true to his heritage, he sent messengers to inquire of Baalzebub for his prognosis.

Now, it wasn't that Ahaziah didn't know about God. Elijah was the prophet of God and Ahaziah well knew it. But he didn't want to hear from Elijah. He didn't want to hear truth. He wanted to hear good news. So he sent for the "Lord of the Flies" to give him a positive message. (II Kings 1:9)

Sometimes the answer -- or where to seek the answer is right in front of us. Frantic activity results when we are so determined to avoid what we perceive is bad news, a relationship we're afraid to fix, or a job we don't want to do.

True Jehovah style, God aroused Elijah and instructed him. Elijah arrived, prophesied death, and departed. True Ahaziah style, he sent captains to inquire of Elijah, trying to get him to change his mind. It took the death of two captains and their men before the third wised up and acknowledged God.

I wonder what would have happened had Ahaziah been man enough to inquire of Elijah in the first place? I

I think I need to spend some time contemplating just what it is that I'm avoiding.

31

It's amazing just how bad I was at this!!! Can I still blame it on chemobrain???

You're Just a Girl

Growing up, I don't think there was any phrase I hated more than, "You're just a girl. My immediate reaction was always to show "them" that I could do anything that a boy could do. My Dad actually encouraged me. He was the epitome of the Southern outdoorsman (I'd say Hillybilly, but some family members read this. My Dad objects to the term Hillbilly although I frequently call myself a transplanted Hillybilly. You know, Jeff whats-his-face's "You might be a redneck jokes?" They ALL fit our part of the country!)

My Dad taught me some of his country craft. I could out shoot my male city slicker cousins; I drove tractors; I could put together the transmission on a car; I could re-wire small appliances and pick cotton. I could also skin a squirrel; dress a chicken (That involves this icky, messy process of removing feathers and "innards"); scale a fish and milk a cow. He wouldn't let my sister or I drive until we could change a tire to his satisfaction. He had his limitations, though, on what his daughters could do. Things my Dad deemed inappropriate for girls included changing the oil in a car, using hammer and nails, bucking bails and chopping cotton for hire.

When my uncle received two pair of boxing gloves for christmas, I was anxious to try my hand at a new skill, one I knew was not intended for "girls."

"Aww, c'mon. I can box," I wheedled.

"You're jest a girl!" He challenged me. "And besides you're only eleven years old. I'm fourteen," he added.

The "just a girl" remark did it. My mind was made up.

"Okay. We'll make it fair," I bargained.

After some consultation with the troup of younger cousins and an uncle there, a deal was struck. Dale would box with one hand behind his back. I could use both gloved hands.

The sparring began. I started with short jabs that he easily blocked. He tried some jabs that I blocked. The cheering section was bored. They egged us on. Finally he got a good cross to my nose. I retaliated by going in head down with hard body hits. He wasn't expecting this pummeling of his midsection and staggered backward more in astonishment than at my attack. Unfortunately, there was a window behind him.

The tinkling of falling shards of glass broke the sudden silence.

Then we sprang into futile action. Dale and I quickly jerked off the boxing gloves and stashed them under the couch. Someone brought a rag to stop my nose bleed. No one touched the glass as we all raced to sit properly on the sofa and chairs.

His mother entered to an idyllic scene of her lovely children and grandchildren seated primly on the furniture, hand in their laps, smiles on their silent faces. Did I mention there was broken glass everywhere?

After much inept hand-wringing and moaning about the broken window and my bleeding nose, she wandered back into the kitchen still muttering, "What will Roy do?". We looked at one another in amazement. Mostly her diatribe was aimed at Dale, which I thought unfair since I knew I was equally if not more guilty than he.

"That's it?" We were never sure who said what we were all thinking.

"I can't believe she's blaming me for it all," Dale pondered.

"Maybe it's because I'm a girl," I offered tentatively.

"Just wait 'til your dad gets here!" Dale reminded me.

"What will Roy do?" Ah yeah! Roy was my dad, noted for severe discipline, as I knew well. The girl thing didn't usually matter to him.

We spent the rest of the afternoon quietly, playing chess or checkers, staring at a book, or just sitting around wondering what our fate would be when "Roy" arrived. He was the one who'd have to fix the window, too.

To my immense surprise when my Dad arrived to pick up my sister and I, his anger focused on Dale. He reamed him out royally. When I recognized the lay of the land, I smiled angelically at Dale from behind my father's back, mouthing, "I'm just a girl."

It lessened the sting of that remark just a bit to know that, sometimes, it worked in my favor.

Know His Power

Worship Time this morning was especially moving. We were singing "Still" from Hillsong when God's power moved through the auditorium very sweetly. My attention was arrested by the second verse: "Find rest my soul in Christ alone; know His power in Quietness and Trust." I had one of those "Aha" moments.

My Christian upbringing emphasized His power. We celebrated -- enthusiastically, joyfully, watching God work in us and those around us. And I love to celebrate what God does and is doing in our lives. What we did not "get" as well, however, was the part about "knowing His power in quietness and trust."

It struck me again so forcefully that during these past two years of illness (first the liver donation, then the breast cancer) that God has been showing me His Power, in quietness and trust. Times of quietness are not as much fun as the joyous celebration of His Mighty Works, but those days, months, years are character forming. Those quiet days when all one can do is Trust, are times to get acquainted with God. Those times I was so ill I could only be quiet, only meditate. My body and mind could do no more. My body couldn't move, couldn't get busy. My mind couldn't think, couldn't go off on a tangent of it's own. Those days God ministered directly to my Soul. In quietness I learned to trust His power, trust His hand.

And today God, thank you for stopping me long enough to minister to me directly. Thank you for the reminder that it isn't ALL in the joyful moments, but also I can worship you in Quietness and Trust. Regardless.

Still

Words and Music by Reuben Morgan

Hide me now
Under your wings
Cover me
within your mighty hand

When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with you above the storm
Father you are king over the flood
I will be still and know you are God

Find rest my soul
In Christ alone
Know his power
In quietness and trust

- Hillsong United

You can take a girl out of the South...

A conversation with my 8th graders on Friday:

Me: Next Tuesday will be an ISAT day again. (And, this is AFTER explaining that daylight savings time is in effect on Monday...which they totally don't get. It took more than 5 minutes.)

kid: Next Tuesday? I thought it was this Tuesday.

Me: This Tuesday? No, this Tuesday we were practicing. We had the tests on Wednesday and Thursday. It will be next Tuesday and Wednesday when we test again.

kids: but??? (Confused looks on many faces)

me: (Clueless) Tuesday! Today is Friday, then the weekend, then Monday and Tuesday.

kids: Yeah, that's what we said, this Tuesday.

me: Next Tuesday. The one that is coming. (Finally gaining comprehension) Oops. I forgot. I grew up in the South. Next Tuesday would mean the one that is coming next.

kids: (Now they're clueless) What???

me: Never mind, it's the way we'd say it in the South. (I caught a smile on one girl's face, and she was nodding.) (To her) You've lived in the South?

Girl: Yes. In Texas.

me: (To the class) We will test on Tuesday, March 11 & Wednesday, March 12. Everybody get it?

kids: Yeah! (With a "duh" in their voices)

me: I'll try to not let my "Southern" slip out again. (A big smile from the Texas girl)

me: (To the Texan) You'll have to let me know next time! (She smiles again!)


Growing up, I only ate "Lunch" at school. At home it was breakfast, dinner and supper.
So, if any of Y'all come for dinner Sunday, we eat at 1:00 p.m. (If you read this on Monday) That would be next Sunday for dinner. March 16 at 1 pm.

Now I'm sorry for all of you who have lived above the Mason-Dixon line your entire life. It makes no sense to say "next" if you skip the next one to get to "next." That just doesn't compute!! I left the South in 1966, and I still can't get that one!!!! It must be in the DNA!

Y'all come back now. Y'hear?

What's the Point? I will show God's love by meeting other's needs!

Tuesday's High Point

Tales out of School

I'm feeling much better today. The review for ISAT's went well. I managed to find current news topics for the persuasive practice that actually interested the kids. Instead of lack of interest, I had trouble reining in all the energy. They wanted to discuss, instead of write which is a wonderful problem to have. The whole point was to get them thinking before writing, not necessarily talking, but thinking.

Topics that actually interest 13-year olds?

1. Do you agree or disagree with this law?

In the south Louisiana town of Delcambre an ordinance prohibits the use of "Sagging Pants" that expose underwear. The punishment is a $500 fine or 3 months in jail for offenders. Several municipalities and parish governments in Louisiana have enacted similar laws in recent months.

2. Is this a good idea?

A high school in a nearby town has banned all purses, bags and backpacks from campus today as a security measure.

So we had fun in class today, writing topic sentences (on erasable white boards) and supporting statements. The big idea was individual freedom versus the common good, both great ideas from our founding Fathers. And I had fun saying: "that's a great idea, now write the sentence," when they wanted to argue a point.

Tonight I have "High Point" again...that's the class at church with the group in front of the "Taj Majal." Hoping to get a better picture tonight. I get in character as Dr. Aichen Paine! A non-compassionate lady! I do have fun in character. I think I should have been an actress!

It's not always Rainbows and Butterflies.
When it rains, it pours.

Pity Party
and other uplifting thoughts.

Why is it that conflict always comes crowding in? Never a solo appearance does it make. And why, oh why, does it always rear it's ugly head when I'm just not in the mood to deal with anything?

Not that I'm having major problems. Even in the midst of my pity party, I recognize that this is trivia. The perpetrator of a past conflict decides he wants to come and stay with us, at our house, totally ignoring the chaos he left in wake of his last visit. In spite of complicated and tangled relationships, I must find the word "no" in my vocabulary. (If anyone who really knows me reads this, you'll think that I'm out of my head. But really, I only "appear" to be so candid and forthright...I have trouble saying "no." That word is so FINAL! And I'm such a "let's fix-it" kind of person.)

And a few other situations that really need a .... what's that word again?

And at work, the lack of cooperation of a coworker is coming back to haunt me. Somehow it's now my fault that the report is lacking information she wouldn't give me.

And...sigh! My symptoms are better except that one in which I need to jump and run quickly...Okay...you got it! Oh, Yeah, and that other one in which I just have no tolerance for stress...or is it fools? Didn't I procure a New Year's resolution about that?

So I'm thinking, God what are you trying to teach me? To carry an bigger umbrella?

And as though he actually was listening to me and my complaining (duh!), This was in my email today:

The University of Adversity
TGIF Today God Is First Volume 2, by Os Hillman
03-03-2008

"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed" (1 Peter 4:12-13).

I've observed a principle: The pathway to leadership almost always takes us through the valley of adversity. We see this principle not only in the story of Joseph, who endured thirteen years of adversity, but also in the lives of many other leaders in both the Old and New Testament.

Moses was raised in the royal splendor of Pharaoh's household in Egypt, but he was forced to flee and spend 40 years in desert exile before God spoke from a burning bush and called him to lead the Hebrew people out of slavery. Joshua spent the years of his youth as a slave in Egypt and his middle-aged years wandering in the desert at Moses' side. He was well acquainted with adversity when God called him to lead Israel's armies in the conquest of Canaan. The prophet Daniel had to pass through a fiery furnace and a den of hungry lions before he could reach a place of power and influence in the Babylonian courts. And we see this same pattern played out in the lives of David, Isaiah, Amos, Hosea and other Old Testament leaders.

Turning to the New Testament, we see that even Jesus had to face adversity in the desert, suffering hunger, thirst, temptation and opposition from Satan. Only then could He begin His public ministry. The Lord's disciples had to endure the loss of their Master, the failure of their own faith and character, and the dark days of despair between the cross and the empty tomb before they could become the founding leaders of the Lord's church.

It's hard to find anyone in Christian history who became a great leader without earning an advanced degree at the "University of Adversity."

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My problems just seems so petty to be considered "adversity." Shouldn't someone be throwing stones at me or something more major? (Gasp. Did I say that?) Or, am I just wanting to keep on "pityparty-ing?"

Here we were on Tuesday night in front of the Taj Majal.
This is what I do for fun!

I must have been getting ill on Tuesday night...I couldn't find my camera...although it was in my purse the entire time. So Brad shot this with his cell phone and emailed it to me today. I'm still not very blogative!!! But Thought I'd at least post this.

The antibiotic has taken effect...I'm less congested...mostly just blah now. I slept most of Friday evening and Saturday morning. Today I did my normal Sunday routine, and now I'm tired!!!

Can't miss work tomorrow...we have ISAT's starting this week and next. Gotta get 8th graders excited about taking tests!!! (I'm praying for a miracle!)

Saturday

After work yesterday, I went to the Doctor. It's a sinus infection. So I'm on antibiotics and not very talkative (er...blogative?) Have a wonderful day.