Marriage

Marriage is more than just good times and happiness together. Sometimes there’s pain and tears. Fresh wounds and old scars from the past that gets molded into the mix.

I remember the giddiness of being newlyweds and the playfulness about our days. Like the water hose fight right after we were married. In the rush of the blinding water we forgot about that rusty roll of hog wire…..I still have the scar.

There was that four wheeler ride after dark that was so romantic until we missed the turn in the dark and hit the ditch. I was still pulling briars out days after.

Marriage was painful those days.

 Later there was the exploding ditch that knocked me down up on top of the hill and left him with a hairless face and singed smelling. I was pregnant with our son at that time. Marriage was scary that day.

There were the knight in shining armor days when decked out in Redwing boots and demin shorts, handgun at the ready, he kept watch on the trespasser next door. A drizzle was falling and my heart in my chest I waiting and watched and prayed. Once all was clear I could see him trekking back up our hill, my hero heading home back to my arms, when the slick bottom boots on the wet grass tried to yank him back from our haven…..he instigated the most amazing, never again attempted, James Bond roll. Up he popped again, never once having dropped his gun. How we laughed that day.

Then there was the menacing skunk -the trash bag destroyer. Armed with a rifle my white knight set out on a mission that day. I’ll never forget him jumping up on the hood of that car when the skunk came out of the bag sooner than expected. I’ll also never forget standing ready at the washing machine armed with vinegar as he undressed outside the back door. Marriage stunk that day.

There were signs that these days were to be expected. I’d heard the tales of his dangerous past. Falling out of the apple tree, landing on the doghouse, and putting a nail through his tongue into the roof of his mouth.

Falling through floors, incidences with wenches outside of barn lofts all in the name of playing.

There were also the wheeled accidents  tricycles down sets of stairs, bicycles wrecks with handlebars to the throat, and a three wheeler wreck that started out as a “watch this “ and resulted in trying to eat up a gravel road entirely on his own. That didn’t deter him though, years later he upgraded to a motorbike and an asphalt road.

Some events were simply from rushing around. Such as with a certain light fixture, having changed the bulb, he replaced the globe and dropped back down to finish his project underneath. The fixture fell and broke apart across the back of his head. Had I blinked I’d have missed it.

The VCR repair, one last tweak after testing it resulted in an Aborigine dance across the kitchen floor. He forgot to unplug it. How I laughed that day.

A failure to listen to one another can be blamed for some accidents. Words like “shouldn’t the truck be on a level spot first?” , or, “let me help you” went unheeded and he flipped the dirt bike out the side of the truck. That event resulted in an evening spent in the emergency room and I was awarded the “Yes, I should have listened to you” line anytime I bring it up.   Ever.  Still.   Like, all the time.

Through it all we have looked back at the events over the course of our marriage and found laughter in each one. What was once scary or painful or stinky at the time became fun memories over the years.

We started out this journey with laughter and I hope that’s how we go out.

He always says,” you can’t be careful and have fun too.”

So I’ll simply say…. Have fun Charlie! I love you!

Happy Anniversary! (#16)

Kristi.

34 Today!

Where has the time gone?

Full Circle

A lot happened last week and over last weekend. We sold Mama's trailer and got it moved out. Now the spot looks empty, like it's waiting on something to take it's place. I'll be glad when we can get the dirt work done on it and make it mowable in the places where it isn't and make it more mower friendly in the places that need it. Below are pics of the whole moving process.

Front and back of trailer before we started getting it ready for travel.

First, the back porch and ramp had to be taken off.

The deck minus the roof being moved.

Part of the ramp waiting at the side of the driveway.

Underpenning off and axles and wheels put on. 

Starting to move.

Headed up the slope and onto the road.

Waiting on the highway.  You can see the empty spot in this picture.

Starting down the road to it's new home.  We wish them well.

Thanks to all that helped to get it on it's way.  My father-in-law, for the use of his equipment and expertise.  My mother-in-law, for the company.  B and B Movers, for the great job they did getting it out without a scratch.  And to the new owner, Brandi, and her dad, Mr. Jones, for the hours they spent over here as well. 

To new beginnings.........Kristi.

Happy Birthday!

Happy 11th to my handsome, funny, smart, kind, loveable son!

We love you and are so proud of you!

Happy Birthday, Zach!!!!

Changes

This has been a year of change. It seems as if I no more than get over one wave of change then another comes rolling in. And with it they bring emotions that are difficult at times but I remind myself that life is continual change. Be it good or bad, whether we like it or not. Last week more changes took place. And it was bittersweet. I am excited about the progress that will eventually be accomplished but sad to visually see memories roll away.  But I'm hopeful like Laura, maybe the times that are coming will be even better............

The sun was sinking now, and she told how its glory of crimson and gold flamed upon the sky and faded to rose and gray.
“Let’s go back to the house now,” Mary said. “I can feel the change in the air.”
They stood a moment longer with hands clasped, facing the west, then slowly they walked down the slope past the stable.
“Time passes so quickly now,” said Mary. “Do you remember when the winter was so long, it seemed that summer would never come. And then in summertime, winter was so long ago we almost forgot what it was like?”
“Yes, and what good times we had when we were little,” Laura answered. “But maybe the times that are coming will be even better. You never know.”

These Happy Golden Years-Laura Ingalls Wilder

Update in Pics

These are pics from last week that I didn't get to post due to internet problems.  Lots of projects needing done before the temps drop later on this week. 

Touches of fall.

***********************

Now that's a big tater!

My what big eyes you have!

New bed for Bud in the office.

Stake of granny squares for mom. 

Kyler trying out the field on Chuck's bike. 

   Chuck managed to fix a leaky faucet this weekend in between riding and working on the field.   We also did a little stock up shopping to replenish the food storage.

Lots to be accomplished this week but busy hands are happy hands!

(Y'all tired of me saying that yet?)

Have a great day!

Picture Thought

This reminds me of a cabinet in Granny's kitchen.

Picture Thought

Watching dirt being hauled wouldn't be near as exciting if it was done in a new dump truck.  There's just something about these old trucks.  Their simplicity and their surprising quietness.

Being around this old truck brings back memories of my childhood.  So much of my time as a child was around old grain trucks and old boom trucks that I can't help but be fond of this old dump truck.  If Heather hadn't already spoke for it......for a minute, just for a minute, I'd be tempted...........!

Until next time...........Have a great weekend! 

Gratitude

I don't say much about my mother.  In fact, I have only a few posts about her.  Alzheimer's takes away enough of one's dignity and I didn't want to add to that.  I felt it would be disrespectful to her. 

 But the truth is  I get jealous when I see my former classmates out shopping with their moms. Because mom was my shopping buddy; she was the one I would call if I had to make an unexpected run to town or grocery shopping, even yard saleing  She was more than my mom, she was my best friend.

One day I spotted a friend of mine in town with her mother and the jealously popped up but I was instantly ashamed.  This particular friend of mine was very close to her father and had lost him to cancer only a year or two earlier.  They had a very close relationship and his death was almost devastating to her. So I was shamed in my quick reaction. At least I still have my mom; she's still here.  She still gives hugs and she still says "I love you".  Those are things to be grateful for.  She may not always know who I am but she's always glad to make a new friend. 

My husband keeps reminding me to stop looking at the big picture and focus on the small snapshots that are in front of me and learn to have gratitude for those.

My year's theme for 2011 was to be more aware; now it includes gratitude. 

My Mom:

!!!One Year!!!

On January 23, 2010 at 9:49 a.m. I published my welcome post and today thanks to your support I am still here.  Many many thanks for allowing me to vent this last year and ramble in my quiet unassuming signature way!  :-)

You'll notice I've made a few changes here in the last day or two. So please excuse the mess while I convert everything over.  I also wanted to mention the comment option is back up. I'm excited about this because I love hearing from you!

I have a good feeling about this year, so let's share it together!

Love to you all.........Kristi.

December 27, 1977 to December 27,2010 = 33!!!

I'm always thankful for another birthday, I just wish they didn't come so close together.

Part 6

No matter how comforting the smells of the kitchen were, we always ended up outside under the big tree regardless the time of year. Almost as if it drew us. This massive creation of mothernature is the largest tree I believe I have ever seen even to this day. It always seemed to be a place to play for the kids and a meeting place for the grownups. Underneath it on the back side was a rough makedo table that was used for skinning any meat that was caught or a good spot to clean fish.
The table was also in demand during hog killings. It held utensils and bowls of meat. I was always a tenderheart child and hated to see the hog hanging from that tree but as soon as I'd go inside and smell meat on the stove cooking or the spices from making sausage, hunger would win out and I'd forget my sadness.
There was one other thing under the big tree, and that was a wrought iron swing. No matter how hot the day was, it was always cooler sitting in that swing. Facing the swing, Granny sat on the left side with a flyswatter in her hand and granddaddy sat on the right with his pocket knife and a stick, shavings littered the ground at his feet as he whittled away.

Amazing that sometimes I can't remember how I felt at great moments in my life but I can still remember the smells surrounding me while sitting around that tree. Smells of the pecan trees and persimmon trees and the wood pile nearby and the smell of grandaddy's tobacco. Those are all part of my childhood. Smells of food, dirt, trees, of wood burning or waiting to be burned. The smell in the sheds where hams were curing, the flowers in the beds outside the kitchen or even the smell of a chicken coop. Those are just odors to some but to me they are talismen that trigger memories of my childhood. Carefree happy days ,that at the time, I was living in them I had no idea the impact they were making on me. Writing this makes me miss those days and the people, but as long as I can hold on to the memories and the ability to conjure them, through one of my five senses, I know that they are close by and will live on.

Part 5

In the kitchen on the same wall as the stove was an old white with red trim baking cabinet. it had cabinets overhead and underneath. this is where she kept her flour and rolled out her dough on the metal table top. beyond that was one of two refrigerators, the other refrigerator was directly across the room beside the back door that led to the porch. also by this door was an old rotary dial wall phone and a pencil tied on a piece of string dangling by the phone to jot down numbers on a notepad.
By the sink was the door that led to the enclosed back porch. just as you walked through the door there was a table on the left that held the ever famous scrap bucket, which was simply an ice cream bucket with a lid that all the dinner scraps went into. just past the table directly in front of you was another door leading outside. Just outside of it was the cool storage building that held the worms that Granny and Grandaddy would dig up and place in containers to sell to fishermen. the long worm beds were on the ground, beyond the chicken coop, behind the house under a covered structure. Anywhere you turned the dirt over, there would be what seemed like hundreds of bright red worms wiggling struggling to get back to their cool place of rest.
Behind the chicken coop was the garden spot. This always seemed like such a large space when first tilled before the plants thrived and crowded the area. then came the harvest and Granny's kitchen stayed humming most of the time until it was all laid by to be used during the winter months ahead.
Granddaddy's large wood pile was stacked up near the backdoor off the kitchen on the left side of the chicken coop. Just as Granny prepared for the winter by storing up food, Grandaddy prepared the wood to heat the house to keep them warm even through the coldest of winters.

Part 4

Granny's sink was a one bowl cast iron sink. To wash dishes you pulled out the old wash tub, filled it with water and set it up on the counter. There you washed the dishes and rinsed them in the sink. This had to be done everytime. Three times a day she did this. She kept a dish drainer on the left side of the sink but dishes only took a short break there for she dried each dish and put it away immediatley. This meant a trek across the kitchen with each dish to the free standing cabinet in the corner that housed the plates and glasses.
Over the sink in a very distinct place, between the two windows, was the water dipper. An aluminum long handled water dipper. when Granddaddy came in hot and thirsty from working outside he went to the sink and used that dipper to get a drink of tap water from the sink, then hung it back up on its nail. It was such a guilty pleasure when we children would come in and all get a drink from that dipper, there was a pitcher of cold water in the refrigerator, but nothing could compare to being allowed to drink after or before someone else and not have to wash the object when we were through. The only rule was to make sure and hang it back up right after use. How I miss seeing that dipper. I often wonder what happened to it and hope it has a safe home and place of honor as it once did long ago.

Part 3

Granny's table was massive to a four year old's eyes. At one end she kept non refrigerated condiments clustered and covered with a heavy, dark blue with yellow flowers, oil cloth. Pickles, relishes and peppers packed in vinegar for pouring over your turnip greens were kept safely under there. But that wasn't all that was hidden under the cloth. Granny always kept cookies safe from flies under there as well. I remember visiting and waiting anxiously for the adult conversation to dwindle for I mustn't interrupt the grownups. But as soon as they seemed to run out of steam, I would quietly approach Granny sitting there in her front porch swing and wait until she noticed me. Then I would whisper in a timid little voice to this larger than life figure already knowing her answer. "Granny can I have a cookie?" She never corrected my grammar she just nodded and smiled and said 'yes you may have a cookie, you know where they are." Then it was like Christmas Day all over again as I'd approach the oil cloth. Now you must understand that Granny's cookies never changed in variety. They were always the same thing. I knew when I went into the kitchen what kind they would be, where they would be, and how they would look in their little dish. But no matter, something about having to raise that cloth made it feel like I was opening a present. Then I'd reach in and pluck one cookie never more than that, though she never said how many I could have, it was an understood rule of respect to take only one. They were the biggest cookies I had ever had and the only time I ever had them was at her house. They were tea cakes. No peanut butter cookies, chocolate chip, or oatmeal raisin. Just simple tea cakes. Not exactly the sweetest cookies you'll ever have but I can still taste them and they were such a treat to me back then.

Nowadays when I make dessert I often stand around pondering what to make. I hate to present the family with the same pie or cake as the week before, in fear that they will get tired of the same old thing. But then I think of Granny on her baking day she would
bring out the same ingredients each week to make those tireless tea cakes. How simple it was to know each week what your shopping list would consist of and what was expected of you on baking day. One other thing that never seemed to change was the cereal on top of the refrigerator. It was always corn flakes. Again the trip to the grocery store must have been a breeze. Today the cereal isle alone is intimidating, with so many types and tastes to choose from. But that didn't deter her. No matter there were versions with sugar or bran flakes with raisins, corn flakes it was!

Part 2

Simple how this started. I was in the grocery store the other day and picked up a head of cabbage. I thought about how the younger generation hates the smell of cabbage cooking ,but for me, it reminds me of Granny's house. Stopping by right at dinner time because granny always had the table set at dinner. For those of you not from the south, that means lunch time. The evening meal is referred to as supper. The main meal of the day was dinner not so much emphasis was placed on supper unless there was company. At dinner time there was always a chance of one of the kids or grand kids stopping by to share the bounty of her table.

Just by that smell alone, her kitchen comes into focus. I can remember the layout and almost feel the floor giving under my feet and hear the squeak of the floorboards. the ceiling was low in here because it once was the back porch but was converted into a more modern kitchen.There weren't many cabinets in the kitchen, but that didn't seem to matter, for everything had its place and the kitchen was always in apple pie order. The lack of cabinet space just eliminated the need for excess.
The room off the kitchen was a large room with a high ceiling. It held extra seating when the house was overflowing with company and served as an extra bedroom. But more importantly it was where she did her quilting. Her large quilting frame hung overhead suspended from the ceiling. A few times we stopped by and I had the privilege of spying that frame lowered and seeing a masterpiece held within it. This room also held the old wood cook stove and Granny stilled used it when the newer electric version of it was overloaded. The heat from that old stove was welcome when you first arrived but soon became overwhelming and would force you to seek out another room. That room being the living room, where Granddaddy had the wood stove roaring and eventually have you running for the door to brave the cool temps outside that would start a recurring cycle of musical rooms all over again.

Part 1

I had a post in mind the other day about things that remind us of childhood and it has slowly spread and become a somewhat mini series about my paternal grandmother. I hadn't realized how much of my childhood memories consist of Granny Alexander and her house until I started this path down memory lane.
Evelyn Louis was her given name but to me she was Granny Alexander.
Granny was large to me. She was tall for a woman but not willowy and not plump. Just a large woman. Stout is the word that comes to mind. Capable. Even in her elderly years I don't ever remember her looking frail.
When I think of her, I think of aprons, chickens, porch swings and wash tubs. I am reminded of how meticulous she was in her housework and what a help meet she was to Granddaddy in work outside of the house. From over flowing gardens to keeping worm beds and raising chickens, Granny seemed to do it all and diligently at that. So I hope you will come back over the next few weeks and get to know this remarkable lady as I remember her.