While I am certain that there have been days when she felt the burdens of living in an imperfect world; the smile on her face and the friendly greeting to those around her never indicates this. I suppose one could say that this lady is an icon in a neighborhood just north of the city of Charlotte, North Carolina.
She holds a record that few have ever achieved. For a total of FIFTY years, she has never missed a Sunday Church School or a Sunday Worship Service. Of course, there have been times when she would have rather ‘slept in;’ but her need for spiritual nourishment forbade this earthly enjoyment.
How many of us, (at better than 90 years of age), would be among the first to volunteer for any duty necessary to insure a smooth functioning of a church?
How many of us would personally feed an entire congregation at an annual Thanksgiving breakfast at Johnston Memorial Presbyterian Church?
How many would voluntarily donate over 20 GALLONS of blood to the American Red Cross?
How many would enroll into a Community College to search for additional knowledge “just so we would know?”
Although she celebrated her 95th birthday last December, ALMA WEBB, (Mrs. JMPC), has been there and done that. And she is still going strong.
Alma: We salute you.
Demijon
At our age: Our secrets are safe with our friends because they can’t remember them either. Dj
April 30th, 2009
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The C.E.O. “laid off” Joe and thousands of his co-workers when the profits of the company indicated that the multimillion dollar salaries and bonuses for top executives were in jeopardy.
If the fact that Joe, being faced with the loss of his income, resulted in the foreclosure of his home and his inability to provide for his family was noticed at all; it would be a tiny paragraph on page 24 of the newspaper, or as a filler for the nightly newscast on television.
What has lately grabbed the attention of the media is that the shareholders have begun to realize that mismanagement has been the major cause of dwindling profits. There is even talk of, (God forbid), “laying off” the C.E.O.
My personal opinion is that any C.E.O. that is worth the millions of dollars in salary could have foreseen the diminishing returns on the shareholders investments and elected to lead by example.
Surely, he could survive with a lower salary and without any bonuses until such time as the company was again healthy.
Apparently, the reason for non-compliance with this method of thinking is no more than greed. Joe, on the other hand, was only concerned with providing for his family’s welfare; but he is the one who will suffer the most.
Be that as it may; my main gripe is with a media that will grasp the executive’s side of the argument and give it world-wide attention while practically ignoring Joe’s predicament.
Somehow, placing an executive on the pedestal and leaving the lowly workers to grovel leaves a sour taste in most of our mouths.
Aren’t we all in this together?
Demijon
Is having a “hissie-fit better than a “conniption-fit?”
April 29th, 2009
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As the summer of 2008 came to a close, I noticed that our Azaleas were looking almost dead. Practically all the leaves were a dark brown and were falling off the plants.
For all of my life, I have heard the ‘old saying’ that if you have a question, just “ask the experts.” Therefore, I broke off a stem from one plant and rushed it to the local nursery for help.
The “Expert” turned the leaves over and informed me that the dark spots on the underside of the leaves indicated that my plants were infested with one or more “APHIDS.”
They advised to spray them with a solution of “ISOTOX” mixed with water as soon as new growth was visible.
When I noticed a few new leaves sprouting on the plants, I saturated them with the mixture. However, this did nothing to thwart dark, wrinkled, leaves; but the new growth continued to sprout.
On the Monday after Easter, our neighborhood was ablaze with vibrant color from the shrubs and trees, while our plants appeared to have just “squatted.”
It was then when I said to myself, “Myself; if they’re going to die, a little more ISOTOX will not hurt them;” so I gave them another hefty dose of the concoction.
Yesterday, April 26, 2009, I made the above photograph of the supposedly dead plants. As you can see, they responded positively to the treatment by displaying one or more colorful blossoms on every branch.
It was as if they realized that the Easter season is a time for new beginnings and they were determined to do their part.
Demijon 
Such beauty seems to be repayment for our help in defeating their enemies. If plants could talk, I’m sure they would say, “Thank You.”
April 27th, 2009
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DEF: An enormous mammal that inhabits the depths of the oceans of the world. RIGHT? Wrong!
The word is merely a preface to a long winded tale being told around the pot-bellied, wood burning stove at the Feed and Seed Store in downtown Lexton, South Carolina.
It is here that one gathers all the pertinent local news as well as being allowed the opportunity to expound on any subject from weather, politics, gossip and even up to and including world affairs. Since topics are not limited, these discussions sometimes become lively indeed, for instance;
“Whale, I’ll tell you one thing. If I’us President, I wudn’t let them other fellers tell me how’ta run th’ country. Doin’ ‘way wiff welfare’s jus’ lak shootin’ yo’ bes’ bird dog on purpose. Don’t ‘complish a dang thang ‘cept ya haff ta buy a nother’n.
This profundity is launched from one “good old boy” while leaning back with only two legs of the straight chair touching the floor. To emphasize his remarks, he forms a “V” with the first and middle finger of his right hand. Placing the fingers on each side of his mouth, he aims a stream of tobacco juice toward the square box of sand that is the base for the stove.
Assured that he has gotten his point across, he places his hands behind his head, causing the cap with the big yellow letters “CAT” on the front to tilt slightly. He then, yields the floor to his learned colleague on the other side of the stove.
Removing his pipe from the pocket of his bib overalls, Jethro sifted an amount of Prince Albert tobacco into the bowl and expounded; “Them folks over in Rushie been mouthin’ off fer years. Why’ont we jus go on an’ whup ‘em an’ be done wiff hit. “Pears ta me lak they’s scairt ‘er the’ud done an’ jumped at us. When we gits real serruse, they jus’ ups an’ backs off. Whale, th’ way I looks at hit; jus’ send all them Rushie folks down here an’ me an’ Bubba’ll whup em’ wiff nothin’ but a claw hammer an’ a pile uv brick bats.”
Fearing that he would not get his chance at the podium, another G.O.B. interrupted the discussion with a request that is synonymous with important meetings of this nature, stating; “Hey Loomis, han’ me one uv them grape Co-Colers frum outten that ice box. And Buford, wud you fetch me a sack uv them peanuts?” Cupping his hand around the neck of the bottle, he poured the peanuts into the grape drink.
When all the nuts were floating in the purple liquid, he continued, “Why’ont they all do lak Jesse Lee Barlow done his wife.”
“How’s that, Buck?”
“Whale, she had been aggervatin him fer a long time ’cause he purely loved ta watch ‘rasslin’ on th’ T & V. He jus’ ‘cided ta quore her oncet an’ fer all. Whale, he jus up’t an’ shot her right in th’ head wiff his’ns twenty guage shotgun; jus ’cause she wudn’t eat her rat poisin lak he done axed her to.”
Demijon
Definition of the word Stairway: Them folks don’t believe in ‘getting high.’ It makes them ‘stairway’ off into space.
April 25th, 2009
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One day when Susie Mae was hoeing out the yard, she commenced complaining bout her hands a’hurting when she hoed th’ yard an’ th’ garden. I told her that she ort to go see the doctor bout them cause we’uns couldn’t afford fer her to be out of commission, her bein’ one of the best hoers in the county.
She finally ‘cided to go, and when she come back she said the doctor told her she had corporal tunnel or sumpin. I told her that it looked like to me that she could of at least had sergeant or lieutenant, cause that would be more in keeping with folks of our stature.
He told Susie Mae that she ort to go to the hospital and have her hands cut open an’ fixed. She just bout got on her high horse when he said that, cause she always has been kind of squimish bout bein’ sliced on. I told her she mought as well go on with hit since I wanted her to be in good shape come cotton choppin’ time, so she finally made up her head to do hit.
Well, we got everything fixed fer her to go, and we driv up to the hospital in the truck. No sooner than we’uns got there this dude come running outten a little house side of the front door and says to me, “Y’all can’t park that thing there.” Susie Mae flew mad and says to him, “I reckon we’uns’ll pay enough fore we’s through here to park anywheres we want to, so there, Mr. smarty pants.”
Well, I finally moved the truck off to a field that they had covered with cement, and me and Susie Mae went in. They was a gal settin behint a table with a stack of papers in front of her, and Susie Mae said to her, “I’s come to git my hands fixed.” That gal looked sort of funny and said, “Who sent you?” Susie Mae kind of frowned and said, “Ain’t nobody sent me, Jay Henry driv me in the truck.”
I knowed right off th’ bat that them two won’t a’gonna hit it off, so I told that gal that the doctor were ‘spectin’ us’ens and she took us off to a little room where you sign up fer the hospital. The woman what was signing us up ast Susie Mae who was gonna pay fer all this, and I stepped in and told her that my onsurance had better pay fer hit or I’d quit payin my dollar ever week.
Well, we got through signin’ up and they took Susie Mae back to a room and told her to undress. You ort to of seen Susie Mae’s face when they said that. She said, “Why’s I got to take my frock off when all I want is my hands fixed.” They made her, anyhow, and she come out of that room with a real short gown on whot button’d up th’ back. She was havin one more time tryin to hold that thing together an’ keepin’ her butt hid.
Then they made her lay down on a table what had wheels on hit and they pushed her off to the hand fixin’ room, wherever that was. They told me to wait, an’ I set down and started lookin at a old Sears’ catalog. I had just got to th’ page about the women’s teddys when the doctor come in.
He called me over in the corner and told me that he had done only one hand this time cause he didn’t want to fix her so’s she couldn’t do nothing. I told him thankee for that cause she had a lot of stove wood to tote in and the washin to do. He said to not let her lift too much, and I told him that I had a light axe that I’d let her use so’s not to hurt herself.
When they rolled her back in that waiting room, she was pure tee taking on bout how bad her hand hurt, and I told one of them nuss gals to bring her a asprin. She said, “Oh, no, she had sompin’ back there.”
Well, I didn’t arguefy wiff her. I kinda figured that with Susie Mae bein hefty and all, another one wont gonna hurt none, but I ‘cided to wait til we’uns got home and give her one.
When we’uns got back to the shack, Susie Mae flew into one handed cooking, and I knew that all she was doin’ were a’messing up all the dishes she could just so’s I’d have to wash ‘em. I ain’t never seen so much strewing and begomming in my life, and I finally had to make her go to the front room and set down.
Atter I got things kinda straitened up, I went in there and purely laid down the law to her. I told her that when the doctor done her other hand, I were a’gonna go off somers and won’t a’gonna come back til she were well.
Jay Henry
April 24th, 2009
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The below post was submitted in February 2006. My lovely wife, at that time, had demanded that I “rise from my recliner, adorn my work shoes, fill the ruts, sow grass seed and make her lawn the envy of the neighborhood.”
I managed to convince her that nature would take its course and after some three years, “it has done just that.” Now; since the healing has taken place, she has changed her tune somewhat. On a weekly basis, her repertoire now consists of, “when are you going to put that book down, rise from that recliner, put your work shoes on, and mow the lawn?”
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The warm ray’s of a springtime sun just does something to a fellow. Throughout the winter months, We have gazed out the window at the ruts in the front yard that were made by a Bob-Cat when the driveway was poured.
Yesterday, a bright sun quickly raised the temperature to a level that was comfortable without the heavy winter coat and I decided to remedy this eyesore by filling the ruts from the pile of dirt at the edge of our property. With the trailer behind the mower, I attacked the huge pile of dirt with a frenzy. I began shoveling dirt, first into the trailer and then from the trailer into the ruts.
After several loads, I found it difficult to stand erect. I even tried to “shake it off” and to “walk it off” but to no avail. I finally decided that the ruts did not appear as deep as I first thought. Sitting on the mower seat, I tried to rationalize that ‘if I carefully mowed the grass, the deep ruts would eventually heal themselves.’
After parking the mower and trailer and resuming my usual place in the recliner, I mentioned these thoughts to my roommate of fifty-three years. I really don’t know why I expected a different reply, but her comment was, “those ruts WILL be filled, seeded, fertilized and the grass mowed on a regular basis.”
There just ain’t no satisfying some people.
Woe is me AGAIN.
John
April 23rd, 2009
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I considered myself quite the young blade. Pegged pants, a ducktail haircut, brown and white wing-tip shoes, a long sleeve shirt with the top two buttons opened, the sleeves rolled up exactly two cuff lengths and a long gold watch chain. We were now ‘dressed for the kill.’
This was the ultimate in fashion and the wearer was sure to initiate admiring glances from all the members of the opposite sex by simply strolling by and pretending that the meeting was mere coincidence. In most cases, this meeting had been carefully planned for weeks and the act of ignoring had been rehearsed many times.
What young lady in her right mind could resist such an enticing sight. One could almost hear their heart beat faster as they too were trying (without much success) to act as if they knew nothing of our presence. Both playing the old cat and mouse game and each desperately wishing for the other to make the first move.
Since the entire town was slightly larger than a football field, there was little to distract from this charade. Cruising the town took at most five minutes and strolling from the service station to the grocery store consumed only a few minutes more.
Care was taken to slowly saunter by the few automobiles where young ladies sat while parents did their weekly shopping. A casual glance in their direction upped the ante considerably.
It was Saturday and this is what you did on Saturday in the middle of nowhere. Occasionally, if funds permitted and a car could be borrowed, one would get nerve enough to ask permission of the parents for the girl that he had tried so hard to impress to accompany him and as many more couples as the vehicle could seat to a drive-in movie.
Dating alone was not something that was accepted by the parents of the young ladies until they had advanced to the plateau of “going steady.” Besides, double (and sometimes triple) dating was a means for curbing expenses.
I can vividly remember when a date for an evening was expected to cost no more than $2.00. A coke, a package of peanuts and a movie was all a lady could ask for. After all, we were the best dressed dudes in town and had use of an automobile. What more could they want?
I throughly enjoy the technology of today’s world but I truly miss the good old days in the middle of nowhere.
Demijon
Have you noticed that more & more folks call at 8:30 P.M. and ask “Did I wake you?”
April 18th, 2009
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Like most folks today, I complain about rising prices. However, unlike many, I have a good reason to gripe simply because I remember the so-called GOOD OLD DAYS.
Before perusing the below prices, It should be noted that the average yearly income was in the neighborhood of $1,500.00.
Most of these prices were during from The Great Depression years and many were still in effect during World War II when I was just a child.
Thanks to www.backwhen.com, my memory has been jogged. When one compares prices of consumer goods today with the cost of the same items during the early years, it is evident that The Good Old Days are NOW. Even with inflated prices, our incomes allow us to keep our heads above the water,
EXAMPLES; from the early years:
The Federal Deficit; – 50.7 Billion.
Postage Stamps; – .03 cents.
Model “A” Ford; – $400.00.
Loaf of bread; – .09 cents.
Quart of milk; – .14 cents.
Dozen eggs; – .16 cents.
1 Gallon Gasoline; – .20 cents.
Potatoes; – 01 cents per pound.
Although an average home sold for around $6,000.00, and the above pictured Studebaker sold for around $800.00 to $1,200.00,we must realize that the average minimum wage was around .75 cents per hour.
In addition; many of the above items (although inexpensive at the time) were rationed during the War Years.
Nevertheless, Americans tightened their belts and their pocketbooks “Back When” and survived. Certainly, we will do no less today and emerge from this downturn in the economy “slighted wounded;” but not defeated.
Demijon
You’re stuck with your debt if you cannot budge it.
April 17th, 2009
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Most of these will not be found in our modern day dictionaries. However, they were prevalent during my childhood.
The use of profanity was definitely frowned upon by the “genteel.” This genteel status was generally assigned to the gentler sex in the days ‘back when,’ primarily as a measure of respect.
We also did not have at our disposal, Doctors who “recommended an item – two to one,” therefore, substitutions were necessary to establish the validity of whatever was being discussed.
Only the “Rough & Tumble” would resort to the use of profane language during heated discussions, and even they were careful to insure that there were no children or ladies present.
If, by chance, children were in ‘earshot,’ the idem of, “Watch your mouth! Little pitchers have big ears,” usually sallied forth.
To indicate an element of surprise, it was nor unusual to hear a response of “I Swannee;” “Do Tell;” “I’ll Declare;” or even “You Don’t Say!”
Health was another issue that brought forth numerous remedies that were considered “Tried & True,” before the invention of Walgreens or CVS.
Examples of “prescriptions” from L.P.M. (licensed practical Mom) were, “Feed a cold and Starve a Fever;” “An Apple a day will keep the Doctor away;” “A teaspoon of Sugar, saturated with Whiskey will quiet any Cough;” “A poultice of well-chewed Tobacco will relieve a Bee sting;” “Fat Meat taped over a burn will ‘draw’ the fire out;” The much used ‘miracle medicine’ for any scrape or cut was “Iodine or Mercurochrome.”
And; let’s not forget that the declaration for any punishment for a child was simply; “Wait’ll your Daddy gets home!”
I am certain that many, or most of these “old sayings” were directed toward me while growing up on a rural farm in the ‘Olden Days.’
I suppose that I can attribute my reasonable good health, my good looks, and / or my sweet disposition, to direct results of many of these “OLD SAYINGS.”
Demijon
However: My supply of brain cells is finally down to a manageable size. Dj
April 15th, 2009
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Yesterday’s post was motivated by memories of past Easter services.
Today, April 13, 2009, these memories have been magnified because of a small group of believers who gathered around a giant cedar cross in the predawn hours of another Sunday morning. This service proved to be no less illuminating.
Since today’s worship was being held outside on a freshly manicured lawn, a fire had been kindled at the foot of the cross, mainly, to ward off the early morning chill. Flickering firelight added to the anticipation of the group awaiting the good news of the Resurrection of The Christ once again.
The Pastor began by relating a story of a famous Football Coach whose team had suffered an unfortunate loss to their opponents. The seasoned veterans of the sport sat in the locker room, without their customary exhilaration after many wins. They were all confident that a severe chastisement from their leader would be forthcoming.
The first words from the coach were, “THIS TEAM WILL GET BACK TO THE BASICS OF THE GAME OF FOOTBALL; RIGHT NOW!” To add credence to his remarks, he retrieved a ball from a bag at his feet, held it aloft and said; “GENTLEMEN: THIS IS A FOOTBALL!” And then, things began to get rough!
The theme of the sermon by the pastor, was to remind us all that Easter is more than an egg hunt, feasts, shopping for a new outfit, or visiting with friends and families. IT IS A NEW BEGINNING!
If a victory over death had never happened, as depicted in the scriptures, then what do we have to look forward to? Should we be satisfied with a struggling economy, wars, hostage situations, stock-market crashes and escalating crime?
I think not. I believe that now is the time for all of us to GET DOWN TO BASICS!
“Ladies and gentlemen: THIS IS RELIGION!” God willing, we will not wait until we lose the game.
Demijon
Someone had to remind me; So I’m reminding you. Dj
Footnote:
Many years ago, my wife and I attended a Sunrise Service on the coast of New Jersy. This service was conducted by a young Associate Minister. When he ended his sermon, he turned to the East, lifted his arms and repeated the words used by the angel at the tomb; “He is not here: He has risen!” At that exact moment, the Sun literally popped above the dark waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
Someone in back remarked; “Boy: he had that timed just right.” Another person said; “He had nothing to do with it; the Lord said;” “That kid has had a rough row to hoe. He needs all the help he can get.“
And he still does. Dj
April 13th, 2009
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