Snail Mail

You know how sometimes when you think of certain people a memory comes to mind that is so clear and precise that you can almost reach out and touch them?  That happened to me yesterday. I was thinking about my grandmother and how she was the family ‘coordinator’ (for lack of a better word). She was an only child but grew up with lots of cousins and married into a big family. The matriarch of our family, she stayed in touch with everyone and passed along information from one branch of the family to another. Between the telephone and her kitchen table, she kept us all up on what was happening with everyone. She kept cards, stationery, and stamps right there at hand on her table and wrote notes almost every morning, passing along news and letting us know she was thinking about us. Her stamps were on a roll in a little wooden mailbox that a friend had made for her. Yesterday morning, I had the sharpest picture of her in my mind sitting at that table and writing a letter, the sunlight filtering through that big ole oak tree on her patio and coming through the window onto her.  I soooo wish I had a photo of her sitting there or was artistically talented enough to draw that picture I had in my mind.  Just some good memories there. 

She was born in the time before telephones were commonplace and letters were still the main way of communicating with others. Writing was a habit she developed early in her life. However, when telephones did become common place, she utilized it, regularly calling and receiving calls from family and friends all over the country. She never talked long because, at that time, those calls were long distance and cost more but family and staying in touch with them was important. Back then you paid per minute to talk on the phone, unlike today when you can talk two minutes or two hundred for the same cost.

Anyway, she would get the news from my great uncle’s family in California and pass it along to my great uncle’s family in Oklahoma when she talked to them a little later that day. Or, more often, unless it was time sensitive, she would relay it by letter within the next few days. Of course, it would take a week or so for the letter to arrive and essentially be old news by then, certainly by today’s standards. No one minded, though, because that’s just how it was. Important or big news such as a death in the family or the birth of a child would certainly be shared by telephone, but details and things such as an engagement or pregnancy might be revealed by mail.

Her address book was kept up to date continuously and if you needed an address for anyone, she was the one you asked. They were all written in pen and when it changed, she would mark through it and make a new entry. She remembered birthdays, anniversaries, doctors appointments, and pretty much any big event because she wrote it all down in a big calendar (we’d call it a planner today) she kept on that kitchen table with her letter writing supplies. Now, we have all of that info at our fingertips in a phone the size of one of the envelopes she would mail a card in back then.

She loved getting mail as much as she enjoyed sending it. Just like a kid, her eyes would light up when she spotted a hand addressed envelope and a fun stamp in her mailbox. While she usually used the flag stamps that came in a roll, she would also occasionally buy a sheet of fun stamps to use on her letters because it made them fun. I loved getting mail from her with unusual stamps on the envelope. She loved stationery and pretty note cards but would just as easily write you a note on a piece of notebook paper if that’s what was handy. One thing that I never realized until I started thinking about this today is that she didn’t care that her stuff was out on the table and not put away out of sight. She wanted it accessible so it was easier for her to write every day. It was right there where she ate all of her meals within easy reach and she made it a habit that she didn’t give up until she had to because she couldn’t write anymore. She was a smart woman and knew how to get things done!

With the technology that we have today where we can send a text or an email and get a reply in a matter of seconds, letter writing is fast becoming a lost art. My cousin said something on Facebook the other day about missing writing and receiving letters. (I’m sure he was the recipient of many a letter from my grandmother, too!) It motivated me to sit down and write him a letter…granted, it was typed on my computer but it was a letter. That I put in an envelope and mailed. With a fun stamp. I enjoyed it and think I’ll do it again soon! I also think I’ll find me a basket and put my letter writing supplies in it and find a place to put it where it will be handy for when I have a few minutes to jot a note to someone. I may even pull out my old fashioned address book and update it!

Letters are visits when friends are apart.

I Remember…

FDNY Memorial Wall, New York City, 2013

Today the news, radio and tv, and my social media is full of images from 9/11/2001 with the phrases “Never Forget” or “We’ll Never Forget”. It is hard to believe that it’s been nineteen years since that day. Anyone that is over about 23 or 24 years of age remembers it very well. It changed our lives and the world we live in forever. Like everyone else, I know exactly where I was and what I was doing when that first plane hit the World Trade Center. I remember the horror of those images in real time and the feeling of wanting to gather my family close and keep them there. I remember the uncertainty of that day and the next several as we all wondered who, why, and where they would hit next. I remember the stories of incredible bravery and heroism that trickled through the relentless news coverage that day and over the next several days, weeks, months, and even years. I remember the love for each other and this country that swelled and poured out of our hearts, minds, and actions. I remember first responders running toward the chaos not caring about their safety, but only concerned with trying to save the people trapped and injured. I remember doctors and nurses racing to the closest hospital to them and treating the injured for hours and days without a break. I remember seeing people running for safety, their entire bodies covered in the dust and detritus of the falling towers. And when one fell, two, three, four would stop and help them up. Strangers helping strangers. I remember the tears that fell and the grief and anger that gripped us, a nation together. I remember hugging my children a little longer and harder that night as I put them to bed. I remember the pride of country and fellow man as we came together in crisis and stood as one.  Like most Americans, I will never forget that day and the time afterward. We were a nation that was horrified, grieving, scared, and uncertain; yet we were united. And no one cared what religion, race, or political affiliation anyone else was. It didn’t matter. We were Americans, period. Americans bound together by an unimaginable tragedy. 

As horrific and life changing as that day was, it brought out the best in us. I miss the country we were immediately afterward. I miss the love for each other and the selflessness and generosity and humanity that we all exhibited for each other. I miss the unity.  That day changed us for a while but it didn’t last. Here we are, nineteen years later, and there is more hate, vitriol, and divisiveness than there has ever been. We’ve let evil perpetuate and invade our society without bounds. It breaks my heart to see where we are today. We are better than that. We proved it nineteen years ago. And, we’ve proven it many times since when we’ve had other disasters. Why does it take a crisis or disaster to bring us together? Why can’t we all be kind and generous and loving like we were in those days just after 9/11, all the time? Where is the empathy for our fellow man that was so prevalent then? I know those questions are mostly rhetorical and I don’t expect an answer. Just a few thoughts to think on today, the day we mark the anniversary of that day that changed us all. 

Opening Day of Dove Season

Saturday was opening day of dove season in Alabama. For our family, it’s a tradition that we look forward to almost as much as football season or even Christmas.  It’s a tradition that started a lot of years ago when my brother-in-law invited a few friends and family members over for an opening day shoot.  It was very casual and laid back and everyone had a good time. We didn’t attend those first few years because we lived too far away to come for the weekend.  We had to reserve our trips for holidays and summer when we could stay longer. 

My father-in-law loved the dove hunt. He loved having the family together and sharing something he enjoyed with his sons and grandchildren. He passed away in 2010 and now we dedicate the hunt to his memory every year.  I think KB managed to get back a couple of times and hunt but our whole family didn’t start attending until 2012. That was the year that we moved to PA and were close enough to go for the weekend.  All or most of of us have been able to go every year since. 

We all converge at my brother-in-law’s house early and have lunch. Then we head over to the dove field and spread out  along the edges and wait for the doves to fly in.  That’s where I was as I was typing this. I didn’t get back to good internet until today to post it.  This was my view most of the day.

Over the years the hunt became bigger as all of the kids grew up and invited friends. The last several years it’s become more family than friends but we still have a couple of close family friends that come.  This year we have two little ones that really made the day even more fun than usual.

Unfortunately, this year my kids weren’t able to be there due to work and a sick fur baby but things happen in life…that’s just how it is. We really hated that they weren’t there but we all had a good time anyway and almost everyone got their limit.  The first year I attended, I took my camera because I would rather shoot pictures of people shooting doves than shoot the doves themselves. Every year since, it’s sort of been my thing. We’re already looking forward to next year!

“The memories we make with our family is everything.” – Candace Cameron Bure.

Family Treasures and Peach Cobbler

I’ve been wanting some gumbo for several days. Today, when we woke up to a rainy, gray, dreary day, I decided it was a good day to make gumbo but I needed to go to the grocery store to pick up a few things first.

As soon as I walked in, I saw this big ole display of Chilton County peaches. Chilton County, Alabama is known for their peaches and having grown up in Alabama, I am quite familiar with them. I grew up eating them and although I’ve had some wonderful peaches all over the world, there’s just none like the ones from Chilton County in my mind. Anyway, when I smelled them, I had this overwhelming craving for peach cobbler. So, of course, six of them found their way home with me.

I have this old, somewhat beat up pan that belonged to my great-grandmother. It was her cobbler pan. Now, I was so blessed to know three of my eight great-grandparents and this great-grandmother is one of them. She lived with my grandparents and I have such wonderful memories of her. She had this jar of buttons that she would let me play with, stacking and matching, and counting them endlessly. I’d pick one out and she could tell me exactly where it came from. What dress, skirt, shirt, or jacket it had been on. That always amazed me. She would let me lie down on the sofa next to her and put my head in her lap and she would count my ribs. It tickled and I would giggle and squirm and she would get tickled at me. Such sweet memories!

Although I don’t use that pan very often, I decided to use it today. Not too long ago, I came across a few recipes from my grandmother that I had forgotten about and one of them was her peach cobbler recipe. I pulled it out and got busy. I peeled those peaches, and put them in that pan and made the crumbly topping. Then, I sprinkled it on top of those peaches and put it in the oven. Y’all…..that is the best cobbler I’ve ever made. Even KB was impressed. He had his with vanilla ice cream on it and he hummed when he took that first bite.

I love that I have these family treasures; the pan and the recipe, and the wonderful memories that they bring to mind. There’s something about using a decades old pan and recipe that brings comfort and hope, and just makes you feel good, knowing that you’re carrying on a tradition that ties you to the generations that went before. One day, I’ll pass that pan down to my son or daughter. I have a feeling that pan has a lot more cobblers to be made in it!

Nanny’s Peach Cobbler

6 ripe peaches, peeled and sliced

1 stick of cold butter 

1 cup self-rising flour

1 cup sugar

Put one TBSP of melted butter in the pan. Layer the sliced peaches in the pan. Mix the rest of the stick of butter with the flour and sugar. Crumble it all together. I use my hands to mix it, smushing the butter into the flour and sugar until it’s sort of mealy. Then sprinkle it all on top of the peaches. Do not stir. Bake in a 350 degree oven until done, about 45 minutes. Serve warm with ice cream if desired. 

Food is the ingredient that binds us together.

My Travel Wall

About 10 years ago, my church hosted a Ladies Retreat in Colorado. It was a great weekend of fellowship and praise and worship.  Nestled in the Rocky Mountains near Breckenridge the home we stayed in was gorgeous as were the views all around us.  I took a lot away from that weekend both spiritually and mentally. I evidently took away some crafty ideas as well…

As I mentioned, the house was gorgeous and very comfortable. One of the many things I loved about it was a wall upstairs. It was what I call a ‘travel wall’ and it was covered in photos of the family that owned the home in various places they had traveled. They were all framed in thin, black 4 X 6 frames and arranged in a wave shape.  It was just such a cool way to display a lot of photos in a fairly small space. I’ve thought about that wall quite often over the years and thought I’d like to do something similar one day. 

Our family has been blessed to be able to travel and visit some great places and sometimes we even took decent photos while we were there. Several of them have been used for our Christmas cards or in our Christmas letter.  When we moved into this house two and a half years ago, I hung my kid’s senior portraits in my hallway because they worked there very well. But, honestly, I really wanted to do something different, I just wasn’t sure what. I mean, my youngest graduated from high school nine years ago!  Both of them were perfectly happy for me to take them down. 

In January, I was cleaning out a box from my storage room and came across a couple of small posters from our RV days when we visited the Grand Canyon. And then a post card from Woodstock. I thought, “I wish I had a place to hang these” but I don’t really have a lot of wall space in this house and what I have was full. Later that day, I was walking down the hallway and the light bulb went off. I could retire those senior portraits and hang my travel photos! 

 I spent a few weeks collecting photos and memorabilia and then went to work on a layout. It took me much longer than it should have before I had something I liked.  I also knew I wanted to put some sort of ‘title’ on the wall somehow but wasn’t sure how. When we visited Breckenridge earlier this year (ironic that we were back there when I got another idea for this wall!), I saw a frame that held several photos and said, “OH, the places we’ve been!”.  I knew that was what I wanted my wall to say, but I wasn’t sure exactly how to do it.  I tried several things…a sweet friend even painted a canvas for me, but nothing I hung there ‘fit’.   I left a blank space there for quite a while, and then, last month, I was talking to a friend about it and she said I should use a map somehow and another light bulb went off.  I knew exactly what I needed and how to do it.  And, best of all, I had all of the supplies already. 

I am somewhat of a pack rat-I come from a long line of pack rats-and tend to hold onto things although I have gotten much better about letting things go. When I get excited about a new hobby or project, I will purchase everything I could possibly need for a it and then either don’t use it all or end up not doing the project, so I have lots of odd and various things tucked away ‘to be used at some point’.  Anyone else do this?  One of the things I had filed away was an US Road Map that I had purchased at a thrift store for a quarter.  I frequent thrift stores often and find the coolest stuff! It was perfect for this project!

I took a matching frame in the size I needed and wrapped the cardboard insert with the map. I cut the letters out using my Silhouette and then glued them down. Then I put the cardboard back in the frame and hung it. It was the finishing touch to my wall and I love it! And, sooooo easy to do!  If we ever get to travel again, I still have a little room to add a few pictures along the bottom or on the opposite wall.

We travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us. Anonymous

Class of 2020

To all of the seniors of the Class of 2020…right about now you’d be getting ready to take your finals or maybe just finished them.  Or perhaps preparing for your graduation ceremony.  Maybe you would just now be attending your prom. Some of you would be excited about a trip after graduation or heading off to a summer job you love. But the Coronavirus brought all of those plans to a screeching halt. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that you’ve worked so hard to get through school- whether it’s high school or college- and you’re not going to get to hear your name called and walk across that stage, shake hands with your principal, dean, or mentor, and be handed your diploma. Your diploma; that piece of paper that says ‘You did it!!’ You won’t get to hear your family and friends clap and cheer and whistle in pride to celebrate your accomplishment. You will get that diploma, it just won’t be the traditional way. It’s just not fair. 

It’s not fair that you don’t get to dress up and go to that last school dance; a rite of passage so many look forward to for years. You won’t have that memory of dancing the night away, maybe being crowned king or queen, or the party that always comes afterward. It’s not fair. 

The fact that you aren’t getting to do the things that are traditional to end this school year doesn’t diminish the accomplishments you’ve achieved. They can’t be taken away…they are yours forever. They are yours to build on, to have for the rest of your life, to be proud of.  You are still a graduate. You’ve done it. You finished this phase of your life and it’s time to move forward into the next one and start accomplishing more and greater things. Your family, your friends, your teachers…they love you and are still so proud of you. They are your biggest fans and nothing can change that. 

If you’ve come this far in life, you’ve figured out that life isn’t always fair. And sometimes it’s not fair due to nothing that has to do with you. Unfortunately, you are the one that it affects and has to deal with the consequences. That is one of the hard facts of life. It’s just one of many unfair and disappointing things you’re going to have to deal with in your life. You can’t let this one thing, this one period of time, define your life. It’s just a bump in the road and honestly, it’s not even a huge bump. It may seem like it right now, but in the big scheme of things, it’s not.  Some of you know this; you’ve already dealt with the death of a parent or sibling, a serious illness, homelessness, and many other things that make missing prom or graduation trivial.  This is not the end of the world.  It’s not fair. Absolutely it is not. But, it’s also not the most horrible thing that could happen. 

You’ve probably shed some tears of disappointment, frustration, and sadness in the last few months. But, I hope you’ve also shed some of joy and anticipation, as well as laughed and joked about the whole situation. Mostly, I hope you’ve felt the love from people that understand what you’re having to miss out on and know that it isn’t fair but don’t know what to do to make it better. I pray you will take this is all in stride and understand that this is the beginning of the bright future you have ahead of you.  It is up to you to put the disappointment aside and move forward to that future. Life isn’t fair and never will be but that doesn’t mean you give up and dwell on it.  You step on it like it’s a bug and keep on going. You work to make it better. You spread kindness and love and positivity. You work hard. You persevere. You work to make the world a better place. 

I have a little secret to tell you…this time in your life is just a very small portion of  the time you’ll spend on earth, God willing.  If things had gone as planned, in ten, twenty, thirty years you might or might not have remembered your prom night or your graduation.  Unless it was remarkable or you have a memory like an elephant,  it’s likely that it would be a vague memory of a time in your life ‘back in the day’.  But, guess what? Because of the circumstances that you’re graduating in this year, it IS going to be very memorable. You’ll always be a part of the historic class of 2020 that didn’t get to finish school in a classroom or walk across the stage to receive your diploma. You’ll be a part of the class that had ZOOM classes, proms at home, and virtual graduations. You are a  part of a very special group of people that are coming of age in a quickly changing world and you’re going to get to be a part of that change. Make it a positive one. 

My heart hurts for you for missing out on these special events that generations before you have experienced. It hurts for those of you that are the first of your family to graduate. It hurts for the families that have sacrificed, that have looked forward to that day for a long time, and for you, the graduates that have worked so dang hard to get to this point. It hurts for those that returned to school after many years to get that sheepskin because it is something that is important to them.  It.is.not.fair. and I’m sorry.  But, oh, my heart is also so proud for you as well. You’ve already done something grand by getting here. You’ve finally reached this goal. One of many I hope you have set for yourself in life.  Congratulations and good luck in whatever path you take next! 

Easter Memories

Normally, on Easter Sunday, if we were ‘home’ (in Alabama) we would gather at my grandmother’s for fabulous food, eggs hunts, and those dratted family pictures that almost everyone hates but tolerates because it’s important to some. This year is so different and  it feels odd to not be together.  But, we all have to do the right thing and stay home because the last thing any of us want to do is bring this stupid virus into Nanny’s house! 

I have such wonderful memories of Easter over the years.  Of course, when we were little, we got all dressed up and went to church and then we would have dinner at one of the grandparents’ houses. Then we’d go to the other grandparent’s house. Someone would hide eggs for us kids and  we’d have so much fun finding them. Even when it rained and we had to hide them inside. One year my  uncle -who is still the master at hiding the eggs where they’re hard to find-hid one behind the pillow on the sofa. We looked and looked all over that sofa for it! It fell down between the back of the sofa and the cushion and it was several days later before it was found because it had started to smell.  LOL I think that may have been the last year we used real eggs inside. We would almost always have to play the hot and cold game to find that last egg. 

Everyone has their traditional meals or foods they eat on holidays and we are no different. Our traditional meal is not that much different than any other time we were together for a holiday except ham would be the meat instead of turkey or roast. But, the desserts…coconut cake was the Easter dessert. I wasn’t a fan as a kid but oh, how I’d love  to have one this  year! My mother would make one in the shape of a bunny.  Y’all have probably seen the recipe for it making the rounds on Facebook. She was doing that 50 years ago!

This year, we’re all staying home and watching church on tv or our computers.  Our church here had a drive in church this morning and it was great! We had over 100 cars attend. We honked our horns in response and as our way to participate in the service. It was fun. The pastor brought a great message and our praise team sang several songs. One of the songs we sang was Because He Lives. It brought back wonderful memories of my great aunt and uncle singing at family get togethers. That was one they would sing. Rise Again is another one. I get goosebumps thinking about it. 

In years to come, this Easter will be one we’ll talk about because it’s so different  than any other Easter we’ve ever experienced. But, just because we aren’t doing the  things we usually do, the meaning of why we celebrate hasn’t changed. The tomb is empty and Jesus, our Redeemer and Savior lives.  “He is not here; he has risen!” Luke 24:6  That’s the best thing we can remember about Easter!  

My Easter card this year.