Hello friends. I thought it was time to get back to writing my news and to connect with my friends via’ the good ole’ Douglas County Herald.
I have been well, just didn’t seem to have anything to write about.
Hasn’t our summer season been enjoyable?
Karen, Nicole and I went to Springfield Tuesday and I actually wore a light sweater and that was unusual for August. Everything is still green, the bridges and roads are getting fixed after our 2017 flood, our law enforcement crews is getting our counties a little cleaner from drugs and by the way, we must not forget to thank the officers, the road crew, the mail carriers and our caregivers.
We have so much to thank our Lord for and when we pray our thanks, we need to ask for answers to all the prayer requests and ask to keep our families safe and in His keeping. Prayers are a powerful source for answers, for comfort and “His grace is sufficient.”
Now at this moment in time, we should pause and reflect on the many gifts of all our days, the gift of finding comfort in the dependable moments, and the gift of finding great pleasure in watching earths rhythm and movement as seasonal patterns of life unfold.
I didn’t get to go to church Sunday and I am happy to hear the good news of new converts. Congratulations and praise God that Randall and Ron went to the altar and were saved into a new life of serving God.
We had a very enjoyable evening and night with friends and family at Clark Church Saturday night. The singing was so enjoyable and the Lord was present as we enjoyed being together and sharing the food and presenting our Sunday night minister, Burl Conrad, with a friendship quilt in appreciation for his time and his preaching the word.
It was nice to meet new people and to be with old friends.
Martha Lee and John spent the night and attended church Sunday as did Katrice and Tony.
My daughter-in-law, Donna, came one day to help me with my beeper, which I couldn’t pin point. After taking down the ceiling smoke alarm, the beeping continued and Donna finally found a battery in my weather radio was corroded. Problem solved. We enjoyed being together and talking.
Karen and Nikki took me to Springfield for my dr. appt. All went well and we had fun together getting to eat out in the big city.
Robyn took me to Ava for shopping one day and Norma Evans and I were happy to have dinner with our kids, Greg and Karen, and to enjoy visiting. The country ribs and fried squash were excellently prepared and we are grateful that you both shared your day and food with us.
My sister, Jo, had her great grandson with her for a few days. She enjoys that delightful young man very much and Jo gets lonely after having so many in her life that filled her days and now she and I must adjust to a life without people who have outgrown being dependent upon us. Now it is the other way around. So she enjoys Wyatt, and I have Robyn three days a week to keep me company.
This Friday is a beautiful day.
I am always asked to write and I like to recall those of you who know life in the good ole’ days.
Some of the young folk I know have asked “Grandma what was so good about those hard times you call the good ole’ days?”
Well, I have long answers and as Granny would say …Now picture this!
A Sunday in which everyone in the community went to church and a Sunday afternoon spent with the entire family at this magical place called Grandma’s house, where a Sunday dinner was served on a big old screened-in porch with many of us overflowing into the front yard, and with cousins playing happily together making memories.
Sitting on the big old porch listening to our elders and absorbing their homespun wisdom and common sense, knowing the joy of hearing a rooster crow, swimming in an old swimmin’ hole, drinking out of a family dipper, drawing fresh cold water from the well with a pulley and rope, or sitting on the porch and shaking a jar of cream and delighting in the mound of yellow butter that finally appears, a time when simple pleasures sufficed and stress of acquiring “things” was not known.
In my good ole’ days, I tell the young ones about the one room school houses, and the days of learning to write cursive, to read, to play and even to memorize and they say, “those were better days?” And my answer is “absolutely!”
We didn’t need much. We lived off the land and knew where our food came from, even that milk came from cows because we milked them and fried chicken came from the hen house where we also collected their eggs.
In those days we enjoyed home cooking, trips to the country store where we traded eggs for food and candy, where we loved to read books and be transported to places we had never been. In that memorable time, everyone was in the same boat. If we were underprivileged we didn’t know it and we didn’t get to hear of cyber bullying. A time when the awful things of the world did not intrude. I tell them these were the days in which we knew all our neighbors and those neighbors in that place in time helped one another willingly and often. They exchanged work. They exchanged possessions, and they shared love for one another.
And before I get off the subject, I’ll share memories of such things as penny postcards, three cent stamps, curly hair dos, homemade toys such as the paddle and wheel, stilts, and stick horses, how to play and to play for fun not competition. Boys played marbles and mumbly peg and girls played house and jacks, hopscotch and jumped rope. We played group games, one called stink base and another was over and whip the rope. Friday afternoons we had ciphering matches, or spelling bees, or special events when we performed in school plays. Those events we were proud to show our parents how much we had learned.
“We will differ I’m sure” I tell my young listeners, “Of which were the better days.” And I tell them that I can’t help but wonder what difference you, the young generation of today, will witness from your senior years to your “good old days” of now.
I will say time is a great enhancer of memories and those times may have been better then than they actually were, but I’d trade now for them and do it all again.
I feel sorry for those who cannot experience life as I knew it, but they must make memories of their own and I know I can’t relate to them my magical good ole’ days and I hope some might enjoy life as experienced in the Ozarks in the by gone era.
Your time now will one day be your good ole’ days. So I hope you make good memories and I hope you like hearing mine.