Original or Extra Crispy? -By Karla

I have often said, “If there were lines in Heaven where people gather personality traits before we came into this world, I missed a few booths and went to others twice.” Like mom, it could be said that I might be late for my own funeral. In fact, I probably didn’t even see the booth marked “punctuality”, and just got into the “generosity” line a second time.

Today for instance, my friend Jenni called asking for a little favor. Her family has done so many things for the girls and me over the past five years. While we do things for them as well, I am not sure I can ever repay the care they have given us. Being an honorary Nana to her children is a blessing that keeps on giving.

Thus, there was not an ounce of hesitation on my part when she asked a favor. Her car had been towed to the shop in town. She had forgotten a few things in it and asked if I would bring them to her after school.

“Sure thing!” I continued by offering to pick up anything else she might need for our church’s trunk-or-treat while I was in town also. “I have after school tutoring, then I will run the errands and be there.”

“Running around like a chicken with my head cut off” was a common phrase Mom used to say to me. Organization is another booth I missed out on. Trying to plan the best route for my errands, I started walking to the car. Man, I have got to go to the bathroom. I should have gone before I left the building. I can’t get back in! Walking a little faster to the car, I decided I would make that my first stop inside the store.  On the way I swung by the bank to make a deposit.

This particular ATM is a walk-up with no run-through option, so I patiently waited for my turn. The sky is so pretty.  Just enjoy the moment in the sun. Don’t stress; the car place does not close for another hour.  You have time. Often when I step into the sunlight a sneeze hits me. I felt it coming. If I could just get back to my car and sit down, I would be fine! But nope! The sneeze came and so did a little pee. Well, that is just great! Got to love being a woman when you hit fifty!

Strategically, I ran into Kmart to get my prescription after a quick trip to the bathroom. Then I got a text from Jenni.  “Can you add a white boa to my list? I need it for my chicken costume for tomorrow night.” Well, a person doesn’t get that request often!

Sending a thumbs up emoji, I darted toward the Halloween costumes and the dress-up clothes, but no luck. Next, the Ford place and on to Walmart.

“Are you two together?” the man behind the desk asked me pointing to a gentleman waiting in line.

I bet he hopes not since I might have a pee stain on my pants! Luckily, he politely said no.

“I have a friend who had her Ford Suburban towed here, and I need to get a something out of it for her.”

Both men laughed. “Probably not since a Suburban is a Chevy. Maybe an Expedition?”

“Ugh, yea. Probably.” I added Jenni’s name. “It had to be towed here last night.”

He looked up the location of her car and said, “Follow me please, but be careful in here. The guys leave lots of things laying around.”

I didn’t get in the “graceful” line either.  “If I fall, I promise to get right back up,” I tried to smile. “I pray I do not smell like urine.”

Not smiling, he asked, “Where are you from?”

“Here for the last twenty-five years, but originally from Blue Ridge, GA.

That seems like a random question? Why did he ask me that? Is he flirting with me?

“What did you say your name was? I guess you aren’t stealing anything.”

“I am Karla. Jenni and I are really good friends.” I said as I jumped  into the back seat rummaging around. It was about that time when I realized how dumb I was about to look. “Here it is!” I bellowed as I came up with an empty KFC bucket.

Confusion covered his entire face.

“It goes with the chicken costume for tonight’s trunk-or-treat! I guess if he was flirting with me and the pee stain did not deter him, the empty KFC bucket just did!

Walking to my car, my phone buzzed again. “Can you get two more things for me…”

“Excuse me sir. May I go back and get the baby carrier and the bread maker?” I so tried not to laugh.

If Mom could see me now…running around like a chicken with my head cut off and carrying a chicken bucket!

The things we do for those we love!

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Freedom: All Aboard – By Donna

 All Aboard

In 1918, Homer B. Turner boarded the train with his ticket in hand. However, he did not know the tickets included. It may have included the loss of an arm or leg, blindness, hunger, disease, or other war related tragedy. He and all the men aboard headed straight into WW1 not knowing if their ticket was “one-way”, not allowing them to return home. However, they valued the right to fight for themselves and future generations to come.

Celebration

Not long into the ride, things changed. Suddenly, the smoke from the stack blew high in the air as the train’s wheels screeched to a slowing stop. Homer could hear voices shouting and guns shooting. “The war is over! The war is over!” Certainly, thankfulness was a first thought. How lucky he was for his train became a freedom train. The day he boarded was the day he got off. Homer went on to marry, be a teacher, and raise five children one of which is my daddy. 

Freedom at a Cost

Freedom isn’t free. Today, July 4, we celebrate our nation’s independence. Our tickets to freedom came at a price. Unfortunately, the price is sometimes paid personally. Other times it is a family member, friend, or a total stranger who has paid the price for us. It is estimated that the total number of Americans killed in all United States wars total more than 1.1 million! This number does not include civilians who died from war-related disease and famine. Today many are still paying the price with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and physical losses.

July 4th

Growing up we celebrated Independence Day with tons of family and fun. We swam, cooked out, ate homemade peach ice-cream, and lit sparklers! Some of my favorite memories are of this holiday. I remember the year that Granddaddy Homer, who was late in age, decided to get in the pool. He walked in wearing his shoes. We all got very tickled. I’m glad his train stopped, and he was able to influence several generations. Not all were lucky. In 2016, Americans purchased 268 million pounds of fireworks and 150 million hotdogs for the special day. Don’t let today be only about food and fun. Remember those who fought to make that day in 1776 possible and those who continue to fight for freedom.

–Donna

 

 

 

 

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Military life: A Kentucky Easter -By Karla

Easter Plans 

For Christians around the world, Easter Sunday is a time for joy indeed. Our Lord and Savior is risen! I hold His death and resurrection in my heart, for I know this is where my salvation comes. I am a God, family, and country kind of gal. My desire is always to be in church and have Easter lunch with the entire family, with the ever popular egg hunt in Blue Ridge.

Alternative Plans 

However in 2003, my girls and I were separated from my extended family by miles. Our Tennessee National guardsman was at Fort Campbell, Kentucky awaiting deployment to Iraq.  Sadly, we would not be a part of our customary Easter Sunday in Blue Ridge, GA. At the time, Lindsey was eleven, and Rachel was seven.

In the Weeks leading up to Easter

In the weeks leading to that cool March Easter, life was pretty hectic. Sometime during the week, the girls’ dad would call to share the great news that his unit’s departure date had been delayed again. So, on Thursday afternoons, I would pack us again. Then after school was over on Fridays, the girls and I drove north for about 225 miles. After a long week of the girls’ missing their dad and the demands of school, we hit the road again. We did not want to bypass a chance to spend time with him before he left for a year. I think we traveled for five good-bye weekends.

Friends like Family

Military families are unique and special friendships often develop, lasting over decades. One of the families that traveled the roads along side during these days were Steve, Leigh, and their sever-month-old Lily Grace. My girls had their own personal living baby doll, which scared me at times! But Leigh loved it. They followed her wherever she went.  Having a baby, each week she packed everything but the kitchen sink. I tried to stuff a few surprises in our suitcases.  My girls needed tradition.  For Heaven sakes, it was Lily Grace’s first Easter. We were doing something with eggs!

“Uh, Karla…”

After lunch on Saturday, Leigh and Steve offered to take the girls to Toys-R-Us. Meanwhile, the girls’ dad and I went back to the hotel, so I could begin the preparation of three-dozen eggs.

As they entered the room a mishap was revealed. Leigh sheepishly confessed how they almost lost Rachel! “Karla, she was playing some new video game, and one of us asked her to stay there while we were in line. Steve left to get the car, and I finished paying and headed to meet him. I buckled in Lily Grace, and I heard Lindsey clicking the seat belt.  Steve and I turned to look at each other at the same time and yelled, ‘Where is Rachel?’ Steve flew back inside, and there she stood where we told her.” She gave a nervous giggle and added, “Karla, I don’t think she even had a clue that we had left the store!”

Heading Home Again

Driving home late that sad Sunday afternoon, many thoughts wander through my mind. I began laughing over the forgotten clothes left in the hotel room and Rachel almost being forgotten! Then my mind drifted to my attempts at comforting a new mom. She was shocked that bathing suits don’t fit like they did before giving birth! I saddened over how I had to distract my two proud daughters from seeing the angry protesters outside the army post gates.

I found myself grinning again at the thought of my girls helping Leigh and playing with Lily Grace. Giggling, my mind drifted to the stickers the girls stuck not only on the two dozen, pre-boiled eggs but on the hotel furniture as well. Then, I laughed out loud at myself for struggling to blow out those egg yolks into the toilet, which left me staggering light-headedly down for hours! I shook my head at the thought of stains left on the carpet from paint.  All because I thought egg dye would be too messy!

Finally, I took a deep breath and wondered if we would be packing up for the upcoming weekend.

–Karla

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Brotherly Love -By Donna

Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a brother, or two for that matter.  I grew up being the middle child between two males. Brothers can be a different breed. As a child, I had several friends that had only sisters.  When they would spend the night at my house, they didn’t always understand my brothers’ boyish ways. My older brother would “pick” on us while my younger brother vied for my attention since my friend had taken his playmate away for the day.  

Karla lived with her mom and three sisters. When I was young and stayed at her house, I was shocked at how they were able to walk around in their skimpies. Curling irons, hot rollers, perfume, makeup, and all kinds of girly things were everywhere. No one was burping their ABCs or making any other unmentionable noises.  

My Younger Brother

My little brother was my playmate. I had a ball dressing him up and making him play with Barbies. He interacted with Barbie with his Evel Knievel figure. He played baby dolls with me too. We often played Charlie’s Angels. I was Kelly because I thought Jaclyn Smith was the most gorgeous woman alive, and he had to be Sabrina because she had the shortest hair. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t overbearing; we played guy stuff too. I had my own collection of Match Box cars, and I could be seen doing an army crawl often. The day he tried to shoot me with a BB gun as I was riding my bike was extremely scary!

When I went off to college, he mailed me cards. He would go to Hallmark, purchase a card, and alter it with something funny. For instance, I have always loved cats. One day I got a card he sent me with a beautiful white cat on the front. He had stuck a stick pin through its head and drew blood all over it before he lovingly mailed it to me. I still have every card he ever sent.  My mother once said, “Those two would kill for each other.” She was probably right.

My Older Brother

Growing up my brother, who is three years older than me, picked on me relentlessly. So, I listened to my nicknames like Thunder Thighs, Dumb Lefty, and many more for years. If I had a nickel for every burp I listened to, I’d be rich. And of course there was always the poking or hitting when Mama wasn’t looking.  He always made fun of the way I laughed, and to this day I don’t laugh out loud often.  

When I started wearing makeup, he would say, “You look like a clown!” or “Did you put that on with your eyes closed?”  Being the quiet person I was, I never had a good comeback or the guts to physically get him back. So, I lived with an older brother that could have won a trophy for Most Annoying Brother in the World. But he always took care of me and still does.

Well, a few days ago, I got my older brother back for all the years of brotherly abuse, and I didn’t even have to do a thing. Saturday, I went into a gun store with him. As the man began helping us, he looked at my brother and said, “Are you getting this for your daughter?” motioning toward me. The look on my brother’s face was priceless.  And believe me, this time, I did laugh out loud!  

As the three of us have grown older, the laughs continue. Not to sound sappy, but we have been through some rough times, but in the end, (in the words of Captain and Tennille) “Love will keep us together”. 

If you have a brother, tell them Happy Valentine’s Day for they were among the first males you will ever love!

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Making Decisions: God with Us -By Karla

In December 1995, mom called. “How are you feeling, darlin’?” She knew that it was the last day of school before Christmas break.

I only had one month left before my daughter Rachel was born. Being busy with the holidays, teaching middle schoolers, and being a wife and a mom, I was tired to say the least. “Mom, honestly, I am beat. I think I could sleep for a week, but I have shopping and several things left to do.” 

                 I was hoping for some sympathy. 

However in Mom’s true form, she helped me get a grip on things. “Well, think how tired Mary must have been riding a donkey for miles. She was about to give birth to Jesus many years ago, Sweetheart.”

 

“Umm, yes, you have a good point.” Quickly, my perspective totally changed, and I didn’t feel much like I needed sympathy anymore.

There’s always something to complain about. What if I had continued to focus on how tired I was? I would have missed out on the last few weeks of Rachel developing or the joy of the Christmas season. In fact, there are bigger “what if’s” that affects so much more!

What if?

What if Mary had said, “I’m too afraid, God; choose someone else please.” Joseph could have said, “This will be too hard, God, everyone will talk, and I will be shunned as well.” The shepherds had a choice: Follow the star? In addition, the Wise Men could have decided to tell King Herod of baby Jesus’ whereabouts? What if the disciples had not gone out into the world sharing the gospel. What if Christ had not said, “Thy will be done.”

The longer I live the more I have seen how all choices affect others: spouses, children, extended family, church, workplace, and community.

From a lowly manger He was born to become the King of all Kings. He made the choice to die on the cross for my wrongdoings. Because of my choice to accept Him as my Savior, He gave His Holy Spirit to guide me. What if, I had not made that choice?

 

Emmanuel, means God with us. The Holy Spirit is with me when I need help making decisions.

What if you haven’t made that choice? Make it today.

Happy birthday, Jesus!

 

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Mary’s Viewpoint: If You Could Be… -By Donna

“If you could be anyone in history, who would you be?”

I was asked that question when I was about eleven years old. My immediate answer was “Mary”. How cool I thought to be the mother of Jesus, to be chosen by God to have his son. However, my childlike faith could see no deeper.

I am the proud mother of three grown children. Each birth was amazing. Holding and nursing a child produces such a bond between a mother and child. Your desire is to love, teach, and protect them. When they were little, “mama” could fix anything. Sometimes just a Band-aid or a kiss would do the job, but as they got older, the protecting got more difficult.

Seeing your child hurt, whether physically or emotionally is heart-wrenching. I have helplessly observed my child in the hospital roasting from a 105 degree temperature, being x-rayed for a possible broken bone, or falling and scraping his entire face. All the hugs and love I gave could not fix their physical pain. I have watched as a first-love broke her heart in two, a friend betrayed her, or a coach humiliated him. My encouraging words or love could not mend their brokenness at the time.

Mary’s Viewpoint

Recently enjoying a Christmas program, I thought of Mary. Mary, who cradled Jesus in her arms, taught him, loved him, and protected him. I thought of her as she watched her baby boy be tied up and flogged until his skin was an unrecognizable mass of bleeding tissue. The tears she must have shed as he was ridiculed, spit on, and mocked. When the crown of thorns was pressed into his brow and the blood ran down his divine face, how she must have wept. I cannot imagine the pain with which her heart was bursting as she stood at Golgotha watching her son. She was helpless as Jesus was nailed to the cross, forgiving those who were hurting him, and breathing his last breath.

However, as an adult, I would not answer the question with the same eagerness as I did when I was young. Did Mary know what was to come as she nestled baby Jesus close to her bosom. “Mary, Did You Know?”

I doubt the angel that visited Mary so long ago, shared with her that the crucifixion was a part of her baby’s plan. Just as we know not what the future holds for our children. But just like Mary, we know that God is in control. She had to surrender and trust His plan for Jesus, as we must for our own. No matter the pain our precious children endure, God is in control.

-Donna

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Christmas Gatherings: Christmas at Nana’s -By Karla

Special Days in December

Grady married Ethel on December 25, 1935. Surely with a date so important, Granddaddy never forgot their anniversary!  Over the next ten years, three children were born. In time those children were married and had children of their own, eight to be exact: seven girls and one boy. I am number five. The grandchildren grew to be teenagers and life got pretty busy, but not too hectic to gather together.  So, with some creative planning the date was set! The second Saturday in December was designated as Christmas at Nana’s.

Some laughs

The eight of us have countless memories of this annual event, Uncle Max’s gag gift.  Once, Mom received a giant alarm clock as she was known for her tardiness. Yep, I inherited that quality honestly. With seven girl grandchildren, several of us got the repeat give of a giant bra, when we became that age. He never forgot anyone. He always had some funny stuffed animal with a humorous tag stuck to it making everyone laugh.

                   

A Few Sing-a-longs

Turntable (record machine) from the living room closet made its appearance often. The Carter Family, Marty Robinson, and Johnny Horton were among our favorites. We sang and made a few made-up gestures those evenings. Once Granddaddy handed a recently purchased record to Mom. Ray Steven’s “The Streak”.  Since the song’s main character was named Ethel, Granddaddy felt Nana needed the record as her own. To this day, I can still see the tears of laughter falling down Nana’s face and her shaking her head saying, “Daddy, turn that off.”  He didn’t, and we continued to hear how Ethel was not only kept seeing the streak but joined in as well.

Priorities

imageTo make the gathering more about family and less about money, we began drawing names to help with the cost. I loved the anticipation of finding out whose name I would draw. Time marched on, and the eight of us brought numerous friends into Nana’s house over the years. While money was tight at times, no one ever left Nana’s without receiving some small present to make them feel included.

All eight of us got married and had children of our own, about twenty. The couches got smaller, and the walls closed in a bit, but we still celebrated Christmas at Nana’s every second Saturday in December.

Life Marches On

Nana and Granddaddy, along with most of our moms and dads, have passed away, but the memories of our time with them and how they loved family remain. Now the twenty (great-grandchildren) are marrying and having their own little ones!  In fact, we have so many in the den that once you find a place you cannot move until all the presents are passed out and opened.

This Saturday when I enter Nana’s house, the food, warmth, and joy will meet me at the door. I adore my family; they are so important to me.  None of us are perfect; we all have flaws. But we accept and love each other, striving to give grace when one of us falls. In addition, we try to support each other when there is a need. Memories abound.

Most Importantly

With all the family that I mentioned above, I left out one that is invited for this annual celebration and all other gatherings one. Nana and Granddaddy taught us well. We have invited Jesus into our hearts, our family, and our homes. He is the reason why we celebrate each second Saturday in December.  He is the reason we are so blessed, and I pray that we always remember and teach His importance for generations to come.

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Grandparents: A $300 Treasure – By Karla

 At only five feet and mostly peppered-haired Nana blessed everyone she met. She loved all people, making people feel special. Most didn’t know her real name, Ethel. Instead, she was known as Nana. Man, she could Nana cook!

Ophie Pound Cake 

For instance, take her Ophie pound cake. I know a lot about my family history, but I don’t recall someone named Ophie. While I do not know from whom the name came, I can say that Nana made this delight for so many people. If we had any occasion, her Ophie pound cake was present, whether she was or not.

Green Beans

Her talents weren’t limited to pound cakes; she also produced her legendary green beans. After Nana’s passing years ago, the grandkids discussed how they didn’t think they could ever eat green beans again. “No one will ever make them like Nana.” Luckily for us all, Aunt Anna had learned from the best, so Nana’s green beans still grace the tables.

Even Mac and Cheese

The first year I moved into what I thought was my forever home, the whole family drove over the mountain for a New Year’s celebration. Someone really played up that the great-grandchildren would enjoy some macaroni and asked Nana if she would make some. At eighty-eight, she had slowed a bit. She wanted to be included, and she seemed content with the request. Even mac and cheese from a box seemed special when made in her kitchen.

As everyone arrived, more and more food arrived. Nana’s mac and cheese got pushed to the back of refrigerator, and no one remembered it was there. Dinner came and went.

While tiding up the kitchen, my sister Gail discovered the forgotten noodles! Almost in slow motion, she twirled around pointing into the refrigerator. Her face froze in disbelief and horror that we might hurt Nana’s feelings! At her age, her feelings got hurt as often as a little kid’s would have. 

Almost simultaneously, Gail grabbed the container, and I reached for a big spoon. We rushed into the garage, raking the food from Nana’s dish into the thirty-three-gallon trash can, so she would not be discover our oversight.

Caught!

As we were nearing the end of the contents, we heard the doorknob turn, and we froze. I’m sure our expressions were that of our younger years when we would all be hooping and hollering in the basement. Nana would bound down the steps shaking the ruler reminding us, “Y’ungs, best quieten down before you wake up Grandmommie.”

Thankfully, our Aunt Anna stood on the concrete steps. What a relief! She walked onto the landing with her hands on her hips. Puzzled, she inquired, “Why are y’all doin’ throwin’ out perfectly good food?”

“Shh! We forgot the macaroni, and didn’t want Nana to think we forgot about her or that nobody wanted any,” we confessed.

“Alright, you two idiots (she affectionately called us), you could have just put it in a Tupperware container, instead of wasting it!”

Well, that would have been a better idea. We shared an unexpressed thought. 

Nana’s $300 Treasure

Recently, I was making a cake for a visit with Gail. I smiled as I read the cookbook. Many years ago as a wedding present, Nana gave me a blank cookbook. She filled it with her recipes, Mom’s, and Aunt Anna’s too. Over the years, the binding has worn so much that my daughters had rebound it as a present. I thought of Nana’s $300 dollar chocolate cake and all its yummy goodness. Not only the did I find the special recipe, but in her handwriting. What a treasure!

Ethel Marie Hunt (1913-2003)

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