Category Archives: Cousins/Sisters/Brothers

These blogs are about our cousins, sisters, and brothers.

Cousins: Fruitcakes –By Karla

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Recently, “the cousins” got together for a snowball fight! Okay, actually our reason for our gathering was a Christmas celebration. However, we did not leave before large, synthetic snowballs started flying! As Donna and I drove over the mountain back to our houses, I started thinking about how my cousins and I are a bunch of fruitcakes! 

At first thought, the word fruitcakes can conjure up a negative connotation, but chew on the following and let these words simmer in your thoughts. 

Variety

Like most fruitcakes, a variety of fruits add to the mix. In our cousin mix, we have a lawyer, some bankers, a receptionist, a dental hygienist, some insurance specialists, some housewives, a nurse, a seamstress, some government workers, and a home title-researcher, and teachers a plenty! We are unique as are the different fruits in the cake, and when the fruits blend together, it creates something special Over the years, all fruitful cousins have bonded together to help each other survive and thrive. 

Nutty Cousins

Nuts! Oh, we have those too! While none of us are truly nutty enough to be institutionalized, we have questionable moments. I will simply share a few because if I shared them all, you would be bringing several straight jackets!

One was known to have carried a leftover biscuit in her purse to have when needed, and her daughter once brushed her teeth with Preparation H! One of us must not be drinking anything when a funny story is told, lest she spew it everywhere. Another was testing out a media chair in Walmart, when it unfolded. She was sprawled out on the floor and laughing so hard that she could not get up! Perhaps one of my favorites is the one who was searching for funnel clouds because of an apparent “newly installed city tornado warning siren” only to remember ten minutes later that she had changed her ringtone. And during the “snowball fight” that evening, we caught a glimpse of one of us stuffing her bra with two! I guess our nutty sides add spice to our lives resembling the nutmeg in a fruitcake loaf. 

The Holy Spirit

Many recipes call for the bread to be soaked in “spirits”. Honey, I tell you the truth when I say that my cousins know the true spirit that we need to immerse ourselves in: The Holy Spirit of God. We’re bred from a lengthy line of Christians. Fruitcakes can get better with age, so can we! Christians that don’t just say they know God; ones that desire to learn more of the true bread of life. (John 6:25-59). 

December is declared the fruitcake month; these breads are made for special occasions. They are not intended to sit on the shelves taking up space, but given to others. As we are God’s special creation, we are to give of ourselves to others. 

Fruitcake Cousins

While doing some quick research, I learned that fruitcakes can get stale. To refresh them, one only needs to steam them. Christians too can become stale; life can beat us down. By spending time in God’s word, we can revive. God amazes me! He designed Christian fellowship to help us out. Fruitcakes are known for their solid consistency. Well, my friend, my fruitcake cousins have serious substance.They know the Lord, and they surely know how to rejuvenate me with laughter, listening ears, kind words, and hugs.

Did you know a fruitcake once traveled into outer space? Yep, it launched its way on Apollo 11. I have no idea why, but it did! Since it was not eaten, it now sits in the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum! But, I do know where my fruitcake cousins and I will be traveling one day: to be with our Savior far beyond the space we can see in this world.  

While fruitcakes are known to last for a long time; some even say “forever”. I know my fruity and nutty friends will live eternally with the true Bread of Life. 

Snowball fight!

(Thanks Mental Floss: 15 Fun Facts about Fruitcake; April 16, 2016 & Fill Your Plate: Interesting Facts About Fruitcake; Dec. 9, 2011 for providing me with some quick research.) 

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God Knows Best: The Planner – By Karla

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When I was 21, mom remarried. Berry immediately gained four daughters and eventually gained twelve grandchildren. Sometime over the years, he affectionately gave my sisters and me nicknames. Lynn, the oldest, became “The Boss”. What a perfect name for her! Gail, my twin separated by two-and-a-half-years was called “The Planner”. The youngest Julie earned her title easily, “The Princess”, and Berry gave me the name “The Sweet One.” While I am not sure that I am the sweetest one, I do enjoy the name he gave me.

Our family: 2007

The Planner

God-love Gail! She really is “The Planner”, desiring to know when and how things will happen. Gail doesn’t care for the unknown and operates best when things are just so. When the sisters are discussing some event, Gail is the one that makes sure the plan is carried out with as few hiccups as possible. I just love her inquisitive mind that is always thinking ahead about the what ifs. Her gift of planning has helped us all  many times over the years. With such a large family, we often have to change the plan. Gail deals with this well, as long as the alternate plan develops quickly and firmly. 

Truly, I don’t think Gail is alone. Many of us take comfort in a neatly formed and executed plan. If the truth be known, I think some of my most frightening times in life were the “unknowns” that leered ahead. In fact, I have had stomach aches, raw lips (where I have peeled off the top layers of skin), and added wrinkly lines by fretting over what lay around the corner. 

It is not always that the plan is unclear that upsets me. Quite honestly, the problem is I question God’s plans. At some point or another, hopefully not after too much time has passed, I remember that God’s ways are not my ways. (Isaiah 55:8) 

God’s Orchestrated Plans

Below are just a few events God orchestrated that I never would have thought was the best plan:

  • Crossing the Red Sea:  (No way would I have been brave enough to walk through on the dry land believing the walls of water would not come crashing down.) But, God knows best! He created a safe path for all Israelites to get through and destroy their enemies with His perfect timing.
  • The Battle of Jericho. (I wouldn’t have believed an army we could make the walls fall down just because we were marching around blowing some horns.) But, God knows best! To beat it all, no Israelites got hurt! 
  • Jesus’ birth. (If I had known Mary was in labor, I would have knocked on every door insight, trying to find a ”proper” place for Jesus to be born.) But, God knows best! He wanted Jesus born right where He had him, in a meek and lowly stable, The King of King, but not of earthly royalty. 
  • Jesus’ death. (I certainly would not have wanted my Jesus to be beaten, mocked, and crucified!) But, God knows best! He knew how to give us the most incredible gift; Christ taking our sins away. Thus, He provided the way to eternal life if we accept it. 

God’s plan for all these situations was just that–God’s plan! His plans are never too late, never too early, never too big, nor never too small. 

An Unplanned Move

In 1992, a series of events led my young family to move from Oklahoma back to Georgia. The move was not what we had planned! In fact, the events caused a serious financial issue and uncertainties for several months. Many times I cried out to God trying to understand the reasons why the situation occurred, which caused so much turmoil. 

However, around March of 2004, I had a realization. While I had not been toiling over the situation all those years, it hit me one afternoon. Nana died in December; than six weeks later Mom passed away. As I was grieving and processing that day, I finally understood that God knew exactly when Nana and Mom would leave this earth. He knew how I needed their guidance in the years while they were still with me and the advice that I still live by today. 

All that time, what I had thought was a bad plan, turned out to be a precious gift from God. He led me home, so that I would be only a short drive from them both. He gave me 21 years with them that I would not have had if life had followed my plan. 

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God’s Directions: International Harvester- by Donna

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Self-confidence is not a strength of mine. Last year I decided that once a month, I was going to do something I had never done before. A few of the things I have accomplished are: participating in a 5K (I walked!), going to the beach alone, and riding an escalator. (Now I don’t mean the normal way; I rode down on the side rail.) Perhaps the most surprising thing I did was karoke. Karla and I sang “Wild Thing, you make my heart sing… ” at a church Valentine banquet.

This weekend I was at my older brother’s house. He had to leave around lunch to bale hay. Wishing he had some help, he half-jokingly said, “I don’t reckon you could help bale? Can you drive a tractor?” Well, when opportunity presents itself, take it. There’s a first time for everything.

Following Directions

To begin with, he named the various parts of the tractor. I pretty much blocked it all out except the KILL switch. That one sounded important, in case of an emergency. Next, he TOLD me what to do. As he described my mission, I felt overwhelmed. I am a visual learner. “Show me; don’t tell me.” So, he did. I stood on the edge of the tractor’s running board while he drove around the field. He showed me how to maneuver the lift and when the hay rake needed to go up and down. He explained that we were moving the hay into rows and it was important to keep the rows straight. Straight rows make it easier to bale. After completing two laps, he jumped off the tractor, and I sat behind the wheel. He headed across the field, got on the other tractor, and left me to fly solo. 

I putted along, replaying his instructions in my head. Now, when was I supposed to turn around and retrace the row? How soon do I drop the hay rake after turning? I worried I was going to screw up. Sometimes as I looked behind me, I smiled at my nice straight rows. But other times I would glance back and see what looked like a large, golden snake!

God’s Directions

Driving in nature for four hours gave me a lot of time to think. I thought about how this process is like life. Like my brother who was giving me guidance, God gives us direction in life. We travel along the straight path He intends for us. But sometimes we look back at life and wonder how our path got so crooked! I worried that my brother would be disappointed at the rows that were squiggly, but he was patient, and encouraging. “You’re doing good!” God is the same way. He doesn’t expect perfection. He expects us to listen to his instructions and try our best to stay on the straight path.

Hold On Tight

After cutting a flat portion, we moved on to the larger, unsteady side of the field. He motioned for me to stop. He hopped in the driver’s seat of MY tractor, and I again stood on the running board to watch. This ride wasn’t as smooth, and I was holding on for dear life at times. When we drove over a slanted area, I worried the tractor would flip. My brother reassured me as he simply replied, “it won’t.” Doesn’t God do the same for us? When the ride of life becomes bumpy, he takes the wheel for a while. Even though it seems scary at times, we must trust he knows what He is doing. We have two choices: hold on to His hand or let go. Now as I stood holding on tightly, I thought of the alternative. If I get tired and let go, I will either fall forward and be run over by the wheel or fall backward and be torn to shreds by the hay rake. Holding tight was the better choice, as it is with God.

My brother kept driving for a while. I began to get tired of waiting and standing. I wanted control of the wheel. Why isn’t he letting me drive? Around and around we went. But when I stopped wanting to take control and just looked around, I took in the beauty I was missing. Sometimes God just lets you ride along enjoying his blessings; giving you time to refresh in Him.

Trust God

When I was back in the driver’s seat, I was relaxed. The second time was easier. I bounced around while singing “International Harvester” in my head. To begin with, every dip seemed like a valley and every small hill a mountain. But I began to trust the path. When you first start walking with God, the ups and downs may seem so extreme. But when you get used to trusting Him, the highs and lows don’t seem so magnified. You can roll with the punches.

Sometimes God will put you in a situation you weren’t prepared for. I was sporting my new, cute sandals and my manicured toes. I had on a nice summer outfit, makeup, and contacts. In the end, my feet were sunburned, my makeup was smeared, my contacts itched, and my clothes covered in dust. But sometimes you have to get down and dirty to get where God wants you to be in life.

In the end, it didn’t matter how straight or squiggly the rows I worked were, or how fluffy or scattered the hay was. They all resulted in a beautiful hay bale that was going to go to good use. It could be nourishment for cows, decorations for homes, fun hayrides for kids, or many other things. No matter how many straight or curvy rows you have in life, God can make something beautiful, and He can use you.

As the day ended and I hopped off the tractor, my brother said, “I give you an 80.”  Not too shabby for a first try! I’ll take it! (I may have been counted off for lifting the hay bale too high, while sitting on a slope, which could have flipped the tractor, which scared my brother to death!)

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Pedicures: Little Piggies- by Karla and Donna

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  About once every two months Karla and I meet and treat ourselves to pampering our piggies. As with everything else in our lives, there’s always humor involved.

It all started once when we were in need of  some girl time. So, we invited Lynn, Gail, and Julie (Karla’s sisters) to lunch.  After we ate, someone suggested we get our toes done. Now, those words alone brought a burst of laughter. It was well-known that Gail and Donna had never had a pedicure because they hate feet! Reluctantly, they agreed. One sister, who shall remain nameless, was the first to go. She plopped down into the massage chair to relax. While her feet soaked, she closed her eyes and took it all in until she heard our cackling. All of us in our early 40’s, we were learning that our bodies weren’t what they used to be. The vibrations from the massage chair were causing her arm flab to jiggle like Jell-O in her sleeveless shirt. Though we tried to mask the reason of our giggles, she sat up and loudly announced, “I know y’all are laughing at me and my arm flab!” The five of us were so loud bantering back and forth that other customers began laughing. One even noted that we had to be related and was loving our camaraderie.

Pedicure for Jail

Since getting our toes done is a luxury for us, we have learned that when we do them right before going to the beach it is usually a waste. More than once, one of our toes got messed up while walking in the sand. So, one year, we decided to have them done at a random Wal-Mart before we headed home. Like normal, we sat giggling at dumb things that no one else would find funny. A lady came in and sat down in the chair beside us. She was rather loud; there was no way to miss her conversation. As she talked, we looked at each other trying not to react too much. The more she gabbed, the more we realized she was saying something about jail. We got quieter, but our eyes were doing a lot of talking as it became clear that she was getting a pedicure before she went to jail the next day!

If You Break, You Buy

Walking inside one summer day, we were greeted with, “Pick out your color.” As usual, we began searching for a shade similar to the colors in our non-flashy range. Donna reached for a shade a little darker than her normal. Making sure the bottle was mixed to its true color, she shook it back and forth. To our surprise, it flew out of her hand, burst, and left a plum puddle at her feet!  The owner yelled, “Don’t move!” There she stood with plum pudding dripping down her legs. The man came over with a towel and began wiping her legs, before he commenced to mopping up the mess. Needless to say, she went with the more toned down color and had to throw her polish stained sandals away. A sign now graces the wall of the salon…If you break it, you buy it!

While I Wait

Recently, our wildest pedicure may have happened as we were tried out a new place. It was a bit crowded. We had already selected our colors and were awaiting our turn. A nicely dressed lady, who was probably in her 60’s, strolled in. When she inquired about the wait, she seemed deflated, but cheered herself up with this comment, “Okay then. I guess I’ll just go back to the car and smoke some weed while I wait.” Dumbfounded we stood there with our mouths hanging open!  This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, her little piggies had marijuana, but our little piggies had none! (and never have!)

 

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Teachers: I’m Just About Fed Up! -By Karla

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 Stacking Up

August 2, 2018 began my 27th year in teaching. Most jobs in our world today pile on more and more work for about the same pay. Being a teacher is no different. Task after task, stacks of paperwork keep heaping up. I will be one of the first to admit, many tasks are needed, but there is a limit to what teachers can take. I’m just about fed up!

I did some reading this week. (Research gathered from the following: factretriever.com, herelearningclicks.com, dosomethingright.org, and teacherhub.com),

Did you know that the average teacher works a 53 hour week! The daily in-school breakdown is interesting:

  •    5 hours of instruction
  •    36 minutes of supervision and discipline
  •    45 minutes planning, preparing, or collaborating
  •    36 minutes of grading, documenting, or analyzing student work
  •    15 minutes of communication with parents,
  •    23 minutes for lunch

This may be hard to believe if you do not have a close relationship with a teacher, but we work about 400 hours of overtime a year! Adding to that stat is the fact that 78% of us only get five to seven hours of sleep at night. For me, as close to seven as possible—I get a little grouchy without it! I need eight or nine!

Some say, “Well, they get all those holidays and the summer.” I’m going fess up for teachers all across America. First, we sure don’t get the lengthy summer that we used to get as kids! When you look at all the extra time we put in, you will realize we work the hours!

Pay Up

Let’s talk money. I read that the average teacher salary has only increased 1% in the last 20 year factoring inflation. Twenty to thirty percent of teachers have second jobs! But when asked about the most difficult things about being a teacher, our salaries were not in the top ten issues. Instead, we often put up money for our students’ field trips, lunches, coats, or Christmas presents.

In fact, surveys revel the average teacher spends around $500 on her classroom or kids out of her own pocket.

More and More Time Is Used Up

Times have changed so much in these 26 years. I hear the words, “I was beat up,” more and more. Fewer and fewer hands go up in curiosity. Sadly, I hear less and less of how the powers that be back us up. More of my time is spent cheering up kids and teachers, who both need an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, and a hand to pat them on the back. I spent countless hours during the year trying to come up with meaningful activities to build them up. I follow up with kids more often today than in the past because they need more people to show they care. Perhaps, this is because we are quickly moving away from a “what’s up” society to the isolated earbud land.  

As I have gotten older, it is getting harder and harder for me to wake up and get up for school. Recently, I was written up for the situation. Honestly, I own up for my imperfections. However, I am here to say, their requirements for being an effective teacher can take the wind out of you sometimes. Eighty-eight percent of people say a teacher had a “significant, positive impact” on their life. It has been reported that teaching is the second most important occupation contributing to our society’s well-being. The average teachers impacts the lives of about 3,000 students in their career! It is any wonder we are tired?

Giving Up

Maybe you’re thinking I’m too old and too tired to do my job anymore. Maybe you think, there are plenty of young teachers out there ready to take over. However,

  • Thirty-three percent of teachers quit the profession, within the first three years.
  • Forty-six percent had quit by their fifth year! They are giving up too quickly.
  • Only fourteen percent of the outflow in teaching is a result of retirement.

Sadly, I don’t hear many teachers or society in general public encouraging them to stay.

Less Back Up

Something has got to change! In the good-old days, most parents backed up their child’s teacher. (Social media is definitely not the place to vent about teachers. When a parent has concerns, they should talk to the teacher to learn the rest of the story that a child sometimes forgets to share at home.)  Help that trend begin again. We need your prayers and your words of encouragement. Yes, we need accountability, but we need respect as well. We need the higher powers to truly acknowledge the job we already do, encourage us, and offer assistance. (Yes, I am going to say it…and not pressure us with the threat of getting test scores up!)   

Field Day 2022

Please don’t think of me as unhappy in my profession. I am not. I love my kids, over 2,500 of them! Of all the ups I have mentioned, the most important one is this, Teaching and inspiring my school kids fill up my soul!

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Beauties Within -By Karla

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Miss Rebecca

When dance lessons were over, younger sister Julie and I sat outside waiting on Mom. Meanwhile Lynn and Gail, my older two sisters, would still have been in their classes. If my memory serves me correctly, this was a weekly routine for me during the ages of about six through ten. Miss Rebecca taught the younger dance students; but if you were older, you had Miss Melanie.

Miss Rebecca seemed to take pleasure in our young silliness as we wiggled our toes and scampered about on the wooden floor. Her skin shone with its beautiful tan. I longed to be her, though my quest for tanned skin has been a fruitless error over the years. When I played house my name was always Rebecca. Being so little, I only remember bits and pieces of these days.

I believe we tapped (also known as some shoe noise) to a song entitled “Sing, Sing a Song”. (Looking it up this morning, I realized it was originally written for “Sesame Street”, but the Carpenter’s made it famous.) Some flutes and a cheery chorus accompanied them. I remembered the line “don’t worry if it’s not good enough for anyone else to hear; just sing, sing a song”. I think she was trying to help us to enjoy the process of learning. These were such carefree and golden moments.

Miss Melanie

My view of Miss Melanie, was always on the sidelines because our little giggles were not encouraged in her studio. For she was bonding and crafting the artistry of the ballet in her young women. In my tiny eyes, Miss Melanie was a portrait of a ballerina come to life with all her elegance and dignity. The girls under her tutelage were transforming into graceful swans.

During the years that I peeked into her dance academy (also known as the old YMCA transformed into a make-shift conservatory), the young ladies were twirling into young adults by way of pirouettes and demi plie’s.  A few girls other than my sisters, were mastering the arabesque in their toe shoes.

Oh, how I longed for that moment. In her jazz classes, the lyrics, Do the Hussle came to life. I would stand in the hallway trying to pick up her instructions and be one of the older girls.  I think I had a better chance imitating a jazz dancer than a graceful older ballerina.

Kathryn and Stella Kate

Last week, I watched two of my great nieces who are four, in their own ballet recital. The theme of the recital was Beauty and the Beast. The older girls acted out the movie with the rehearsed dances shuffled throughout. Their instructor Roseanne took dance with Lynn and Gail. She had lovingly labored over the skills, organization, props, and stage presence vital in pulling off a show of such magnitude.

Personally speaking, I watched two giggling and timely-clumsy, four-year-old girls having the time of their lives. Shy and stubborn in their own ways, my little nieces pointed and twirled in their own little world. Their performances delighted the audience. I couldn’t help thinking, how like me all those years ago, these girls were learning to be confident and graceful.

True Beauty

At the all-important moment in the drama when Beauty and the Beast dance, a group of girls sauntered onto the stage. Beauty and the Beast were in the background while these cuties were twirling their rehearsed dance. I noticed two of the girls were older. I realized their dance was a little different. They likely had some special needs.

The recital’s themes, beauty is far below skin-level, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and everyone God created is beautiful, was magnified at that moment.

And my eyes were filled with tears from their beauty.

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Humor: Who Does This?–Written by the Fly on the wall

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Who Does This? –written by the fly on the wall

Over the years, I have been on the wall of houses, churches, dorms, restaurants, hotels, and stores. But, one of the most entertaining spots to watch these two is from the dashboard of a car. And it was no different three weeks ago:

While teaching kindergarten all week, Donna struggled with the spring crud, was on Prednisone, and had not slept well for days. Her daughter Emily’s play lasted much longer than expected. She didn’t get in bed until 1:00, and she woke at 4:30am!

Meanwhile in Dalton, Karla taught all week and kept three kids under the age of six at night, sleeping on the couch with a four-year-old at times.

Glenn Burns had predicted a torrential downpour for the Saturday Travis, Donna’s son, was to move home from college. Donna texted Karla to mention she would be driving to West Virginia and back in one day because Travis’ stuff would get soaked in the bed of his truck. Of course, she was up for the ride.

Early Morning

“Want to take my car, better gas mileage, and we can use the dual air so you won’t freeze and I won’t fry?”  Not a good idea, Ladies!

Arriving at Karla’s destination, Donna grabbed her meds, and as usual headed to the driver’s seat of Karla’s car, readjusted the seat, and the mirror as Karla began hauling out the three car seats.  Think about what you are doing!

Donna announced, “Don’t ask me how much sleep I got last night.”

Karla replied, “Don’t ask me either.”  Oh, this is gonna be bad. I’ve seen them with little sleep. The silliness will be kicking in extra early.

A Slow Start

Only twenty minutes into the trip, Karla’s stomach growled. With chicken minis and a large iced tea, they plopped into the seat and started down the road once more. The lid was not securely fastened and Karla turned it up to drink. “Ahhh! Half this large tea just poured in my lap and ran down between my legs!” Well, this will prove to be a sticky situation for fourteen hours.

Noticing the gas light was in the red, they stopped. As Donna pumped, Karla went to the outside bathroom. “When you go into that bathroom, take your phone, and take a picture of that sign on the door!” Karla laughed.

After Donna relieved herself, she came out smiling, “Really, who’s gonna get hit by a car when you step out of the bathroom!” Then Karla sprawled out against the car pretending to be the stick figure getting smashed on the metal sign. Seriously, Karla, do you realize people see you draped across the hood of the car!

“We are crazy; we should have taken your car!  Do you realize when we get to Dalton, we will have to switch all Travis’ stuff from my car to yours!” I tried to tell you to think about this; I hope it’s not still raining when you transfer it tonight.

Entertainment

Around Knoxville, the car radio went silent! This will not be good; they cannot survive without songs for karaoke.

“Oh my, gosh!  How are we going to travel a 14-hour trip without music!”

“Plug in my phone and pick something.” Karla started scrolling through Donna’s Pandora saved stations: Conway Twitty, Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang, Johnny Horton, Frank Sinatra, Anne Murray, Contemporary Christian, Blue Grass, Hall-n-Oats…“ Who has this variety?

“Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang it is.” And they immediately broke into chorus, “Oh, you pretty Chitty, Bang, Bang.” I’ve been listening to them sing this for years. I remember them forcing their college friends to watch the movie.

“Here comes the long tunnel through the mountain!  Let’s see if we can hold our breath the whole way. Ready, Set, Go!” They look like chipmunks storing food in their cheeks. And they will do it three more times. This will be the only quite time I get.

“Need a pit stop!”  As Karla entered the stall, she had to peel her jeggings off the back of her legs that had been glued from the sugary tea. That’s got to hurt, and that’s just gross!

West Virginia

Arriving in the school parking lot, they had to wait for Travis to finish with his room inspection. Karla asked, “Do you care if I take a quick nap. I can’t keep my eyes open.” This doesn’t ever happen when they are together.  She is really tired.

“Sure, I don’t need your continuous chatter; the radio’s working again.” Donna sneered in her sarcastic way. So, while Karla passed out for about 15 minutes, Donna amused herself by watching and listening to a male student attempting to stuff the rest of his dorm room overflow into his car. When it was obvious to him this endeavor would fail, he became the local auctioneer. “Ten dollars, just ten dollars for this chair! It won’t fit; need to sale!” He continued to beg his fellow dormsmen as they walked by. “Super comfortable. It’s a great chair!” I know Donna, she is wondering if she has a ten and where she can use that chair! Finally, a dude with a spare dollar or two was the new owner of a well-used chair.

Georgia Bound

With Travis’ truck and the car loaded, they were off leading the way. Upon leaving the school they accidentally went the wrong direction. That is the story of their lives! Travis, even knowing they were in the wrong, followed without question. They realized quickly and turned southbound heading for home.    

The radio continued to provide background music for their giggles for about 50 miles. Until a thudding sound, and it was out again. At some point soon, they will start looking up random people on the internet. Last time it was Michael Landon from Little House on the Prairie!

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

When another song from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang began playing, they both simultaneously chimed in, “You’re my little Chu-chi face; my coo-chi, coo-chi, woo-chi little chu-chi face…”  Who else knows all the words to this song? After the song was sung with the upmost dramatics, the singing turned into questions as they searched the internet for the characters from the movie. I knew that was coming.  With no need to investigate Dick Van Dyke, they turned to Jemima and Jeremy Potts finding that she lives in an eco-village in the UK while he resides in England working as the Head of Production for a prestigious acting school.

The music to the doll song from Chitty, Chitty came out of the speakers. Oh, no. Donna began stiffly moving her arms and singing “turning around like a music box that’s wound by a key,” and Karla began flailing her arms like a rag-time doll while singing, “Truly Scrumptious.”  For the next five minutes, they continued to act out the scene of Truly Scrumptious and Caractacus Potts the best a driver and rider could. Hands on the wheel please. And you ladies look absolutely ridiculous to the people passing by! Who does that?

“Do you know who played the toy maker?  Benny Hill,” Karla spouted out before even waiting for an answer!  “Did you know this year is the 50th anniversary of the movie!”  Now they are going to want to celebrate this milestone in the near future; movie night with popcorn and Goobers!

“Ooh!  Look up the evil child catcher!” And they found him to have been a very famous Austrian ballet dancer, whose agile movements actually came-in-handy during a near death experience as his child-jail-carriage spun out of control.  There were a few disturbing rumors about him as well.

Evening

As the day moved into evening, they continued their profound researching to discover that Conway Twitty has a son, Michael Twitty who performs concerts and sings his songs.  “And wouldn’t it be fun to take Aunt Anna to see him!” Then they commenced to find a concert for a cousin/aunt trip in the near future. And now they will start singing, “Hello Darlin’.” Yep, I told you.

Needing a bathroom as all 50-year-old ladies do, they took an exit for a potty break, gas fill-up, and food fill-up.  Travis chose McDonald’s, so they ordered oatmeal! Oatmeal from McDonalds’ at this hour?

As they gobbled oats, a man wearing a Cracker Barrel uniform came in, ordered and began to eat. With Cracker Barrel being their favorite restaurant, they looked at each other, whispering loudly. “What is he thinking! You work there, and you eat here! He is insane! Look the TV is playing the old Lawrence Welk show!”  They got up, went to stand, and watch the TV on the wall. People are staring. Poor Travis.

As they arrived back where Donna’s car was waiting, although exhausted, they had to swap all the stuff from one car to another in the rain. I told you so!

“I’ve watched these two for many years, and this is the normal for them. This was actually a mild trip. Perhaps, many people would think they were strange, and say “Who does that?”  My answer is, “two cousins, who enjoy life, and I am glad I was along for the ride!”

For your enjoyment,click on the link to hear Doll on a Music Box! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BbX3ZSr43KA

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Survival: Solid Rock – By Karla

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Tarzan in Nana’s Backyard

My sisters and I watched Tarzan every Saturday afternoon at one o’clock. Ron Eli, the 1960’s Tarzan was wonderful with his sidekick Chi. However, were equally excited when Johnny Weissmuller filled Nana’s black and white TV portraying the 30 and 40’s hero swinging on the vines avoiding the quicksand to save Jane!

After Tarzan went off, what were four girls to do?  Go outside and play Tarzan, of course. To be truthful, three of us went out to play.  Lynn, my oldest sister, had her fill of the jungle life by the watching of Tarzan and was ready  to settle into a good book. So, Gail, Julie, and I run to the massive rope that hung from the big oak behind Nana and Granddaddy’s house. It once adorned a tractor tire, but at some point the tire retired, which was okay because we were still enthralled with our “jungle vine”. Gail was always Tarzan, no matter how much Julie or I begged. Thus, Jane became my role.

Poor Julie!  This left her with few choices:  boy (from the older movies), Chi, or Cheetah–Tarzan’s monkey! Luckily for Julie, one episode featured Ron Eli helping a deaf and mute girl. Julie was forever saved! She was no longer stuck with being a boy or a monkey. In our minds, the little child was a regular in Tarzan and Jane’s lives. This also had another perk; she couldn’t talk! We had to remind her of that often. We climbed trees, looked for the poachers, faced fierce alligators, dodged the quicksand, and managed to always safely return to our imaginary tree house

The Jungle’s Quicksand at School

I must have been totally fascinated with quicksand, because at school during recess, I protected my best friends from the quicksand that covered our playground. There we had no Tarzan; Gail was across the catwalk in the other building.  So, I was not Jane during the week. I was just plain Karla, who with my friends, had dangerous missions. Our goal required us to strategically move from one landscaping timber to another avoiding the massive quicksand pits.

The Quicksands of Adulthood

As I continued into adulthood, I found quicksand there too. At times, the quicksand took on the form of loneliness after a relationship breakup. Managing a part-time job with college tests and project deadlines caused pitfalls. Career choices and house hunting has swept me off my feet at times, and I don’t mean in a good way.

Endless bills and deciding where the money for those would come from have entangled me on many occasions. Being a mother, even in all its joy, is like continuously swinging above the quicksand, not knowing when you might fall. (Broken arms, teenage hormones, didn’t  make the team, first dates, and the endless mounds of laundry.) Life is tough!

However, I have a Savior, and He saves me from all the quicksands in the world.

In Psalms 18:2, “The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” There have been so many days in which I am overwhelmed by people or my circumstances. I have held tightly to this verse to carry me through uncertainty.

For, “On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.  All other ground is sinking sand.”

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Survival: The Fight – By Karla

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The Fight From Our Youth: From My Perspective

Of course, the words that will follow are from the older sister perspective, but I think they are pretty accurate:

Relaxing

Sitting in the apricot-colored chair, I relaxed watching some rerun after school, probably The Brady Bunch. I calmly sat, eating my normal after-school snack of two fried eggs and two pieces of buttered toast smothered with Nana’s applesauce . 

Julie, my younger sister (by two and a half years) came be-bobbing in the room holding her basketball. She asked me to come play. Having a satisfied belly, I shrugged feeling a bit lazy. She repeated her request, but I refused stating that I was busy watching TV. As if I had not see that episode 15 times.

Interruption

I am assuming she was not happy that I refused to play with her. The hard ball smash into the rim of my glasses which jarred my nose. Anyone with glasses knows that incredible pain associated with a blow of that type. To Julie’s nine-year-old credit, I do not think she meant to hit me in the face. However, I am not sure where she thought the ball was going to hit me.

I lunged at her out of shock and sheer pain from the flying orange sphere. Taking a swing, I hit her in the arm and tried to bolt out the door before she could come back after me. I was not swift enough! She grabbed the back of my shirt. Her hand unintentionally had ahold of my add-a-bead necklace! If you lived in the 80’s, you remember the pride you felt sporting this fashionable piece of jewelry. The twisting of her hand unleashed the golden balls, and they shot in all directions.

Here Comes Mom

I was so proud of the 14 karat golden balls I have collected over time. It must have had 20 beads, and went sailing into the hallway in 20 different direction! The pinging sound, bouncing off the walls, signaled a warning to Mom, and she came running. And that was the end of the one and only fight we ever had.  

Praise the Lord, we got off with only a scolding. Though, I am sure the guilt of our actions (and the mourning of the loss of my necklace) caused us some serious shame when Mom got through with us.  

Julie’s Fight

Last week was spring break for me, and I had the privilege of taking Julie to physical therapy.

Seven and a half years ago, Julie was hit head on by a truck doing 84 in a 35! She had a knee replacement on March 21st, which was her 16th surgery, tolerating more than one person should have to endure.

Amazed By Her Attitude

Distracted from the book I brought to read, she started the repetitive exercises. The therapist set the stationary bike to allow her to only pedal back and forth, not complete circles. She moved from one machine to another, smiling and even making little jokes now and then. I began reading off and on trying to let her concentrate on her progress and not on me watching her.

Sickened by Her Pain

However, when she sat on the bench and began lifting her leg with a very minimal weight, I happened to look up. I watched her in intense pain as she pierced her lips together. She balled up her fist and hit her forehead several times fighting through the pain until the timer rang to signal her release from the agony.

I thought of our fight that was almost 40 years ago when I considered her to be one of my biggest annoyances in life. As I have watched Julie fight through the continuous pain of the last seven and a half years, I stand in awe of the amazing woman and true fighter she is.  

She is a survivor and a thriver.

To God be the Glory.

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Friendship -By Donna

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Friendship is a gift from God. But what makes the best kind of friend? One that will get the dried lipstick off your teeth! Another characteristic is that a great friend is fun.  Karla and I have had enough fun to last a lifetime! We can have fun anywhere and anytime. Standing in line at a deli one day we were trying to decide what we could eat. We told the young man behind us to go around us. His reply, “Oh no, I am enjoying the show!”

A friend should be loyal, caring, and honest. More importantly friendship is the opportunity to love and serve others rather than having others love and serve you. To have good friends, you must be a good friend.

Above the Call of Duty

Karla and I are often doing for one another. We don’t keep tabs, or pay each other back, because “it all comes out in the wash” as our mothers would say. Recently, Karla went above and beyond the call of duty for me. I needed Travis, my oldest son, who is away at college, to make an important phone call, but he was in class. I was going to call and see if they would take the information from me, but I was sure they wouldn’t since he is over 18. So, Karla volunteered.

Impersonating

The plan was for me to call, and if they asked to speak to Travis, she was going to impersonate him. I told her to talk like a young guy, not real formal. I wrote all the needed information on a paper for her to have handy. We sat in the quiet car, and I dialed the number. As I suspected, when I told her his birth date, she asked to speak to him. I handed it to Karla, and  put it on speaker phone. She changed to her most manly voice, and the conversation went something like this:

Karla: “Yea.”   

Lady:  “Yea! What are you saying yea for, I haven’t even asked you a question yet.”

Karla: “Sorry.”

Lady:  “What is your name?”

Karla: “Travis Tumlin”        

Lady:  “Spell that.”

Karla:  “Tumin.” (I whispered to Karla, “you spelled it wrong! It’s T-u-m-l-i-n)  

Lady:  “Ma’am!  Are you spelling your son’s name for him? Is your mom spelling your name for you?”

Karla:  “Sorry Ma’am, I got a little confused. I haven’t been feeling so good lately.”

The conversation went on and the lady who seemed very upset with Travis to begin with became sympathetic. (I think she thought he was not the brightest crayon in the box!) One of the last things she said to him was an email address and she added, “It’s www., now honey that’s three w’s in a row.  And good luck now.”

That was one of the funniest moments we have ever had. Friendship often goes to great lengths.

Being a good friend is just as important as having a good friend. Make a choice to be a good friend to someone today.  

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