BONNIE’S STRIP TWIST

Finished up this double quilt top this morning - I’m not certain about the black borders, but am thinking they’ll grow on me. It’s not gorgeous, but it is presentable for a scrap quilt and may someday keep someone’s toes warmer. I do like the games the contrasting colors play on diagonal lines. (I can resist anything but diagonal patterns...) Besides that, now that it’s done, I’m thinking this winter may not be a total waste after all.

Back to the "woods," just have to share with you a note from my Aunt Luanne. She wrote this in response to all the logging and firewood stories of recent weeks.

I can remember when a wood fire in the fireplace was our only heat and it kept the brothers busy almost full time keeping enough wood. We burned a lot in the cook stove, also. Sometimes when the wood box for the stove would be empty, your Grandma Oe would go out and split some wood and carry it in. But not when your Grandpa Grover was around! He thought she ought to teach the sons that if there was no wood in the box there would be no supper.

I can almost smell the wood from your oak tree.

Love, Aunt Luanne

See what I mean? Aunt Luanne's excells at love of family and story telling. I'm thinking no one can tell a tale as clearly and concisely as a first grade teacher...even in retirement. Every note from her is worth sharing/saving. Thank you, Aunt Luanne

Seems to me there are quite a few good story tellers in this family!

KICKIN' UP DUST

...SAWDUST, that is.

DH had the chainsaw going about all afternoon. About 4 p.m. I saw him bending over with hands on knees (the usual angina recovery position), so I popped my head out the back door and asked, "Are you O.K.?"

DH: *turning with big smile* "I'm fine."

P:*with skeptical brows, "I think you've done enough..."

DH: "...but I'm not done yet."

P: "Look at all that sawdust; you've done enough for one day."

DH: *continues on, tossing firewood over stream out of the way for another hour or so; but does not restart the chainsaw.*

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It occurs to me there's an epidemic of denial within the Teel clan these days.
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DH says just now: *moaning as he gets out of the recliner* "I overdid it."

Shh-h-h-h-...he thinks I wasn't listening. :)

PERSPECTIVE

Just could not resist this shot as I was recording the felling of the mighty oak.

That oak stood a lot of years. GF has often asked, "What has that oak seen pass beneath it?" We imagined Indian spirits remaining beneath it's outstretched arms from former seasons. Surely more than one farmer used it for a fence post - GF's metal detector rang barbed wire up to four feet. I'm thinking all 17 of our grand-angels used the swing that hung from its lowest branch. Dear friend Casey provided the cedar swing seat and built the bridge coined 'the bridge to the oak.' Over a hundred generations of birds and squirrels found shelter there in summer; while deer chomped on acorn mast in autumn.

It was a thing of beauty and we'll miss its mighty presence. Still it may lend warmth through many coming winters. For this winter it has warmed a relationship between GF and GS, while warming their muscles and tools.

Perspective - it's all in how you look at it. In God's eye that 100+ years is but a blink. I won't see 100+ years, but I'd do well to remember He yet controls the centuries, the world ... His arms outstretched in mercy (for even me).

Nor does the gift of a tree compare to the gift of the child (and his counterparts) who seems dwarfed in the photo. What potential for good rests in the hands that held that maul and split that wood. God bless him!

MOVIN' RIGHT ALONG

Grandfather's Guardian "Angel"

...with this 'new leash on life' - 2007.

DS & DDIL do not have dial up, so I'm getting new lessons in computer addiction. It's so much fun to browse around with instant response. I've even been looking at many-photo blog sites I click past at home because of the time it takes to pull them up. And I confess that sometimes keeps me from writing here. It takes 10-20 minutes to configure and add images, and bald stories just aren't as interesting.

I have nothing on my mind today. We've been floating day to day and I'm concerned the week will pass with little in the way of lasting remembrance. Typically the kinds of things I do when I visit are not long term. I choose the easy chores - dishes, sweeping, laundry. And the older I get the lighter those chores become. Yet no small contribution goes without thanks. That's nice if the job doesn't last.

DS has a freezer door full of Gevalia coffees. This morning I tried the European blend. Yummy. Yesterday's Costa Rica, a nice mild blend, was so smooth it hardly registered on the tongue as coffee. I do feel a bit guilty, though, because my coffee measures are double what his would be, so that black gold diminishes at an alarming rate...on his tab. Not that he'll notice or complain.

As for the photo and caption: GF always called his grandbabies angels. It gives them a lot to live up to, but I must say they are managing quite nicely.

A FEW DAYS AWAY

It is pretty hard for me to slip away from GF. I don't think it 'bothers' him as much as it bothers me; but we seem to be joined at the hip in our (dare I say it) decline. Decline is not such a bad word in light of 2 Cor.4:16-18. I'm presently in GA with DS David's, family. We're having a good time, of course.

It was easier to leave this time because I left GF in capable hands. DGS Jonathan is there to keep him out of overmuch mischief. GF cut down the giant oak by the Barn last Friday. He said it lived a long time to fall in 20 minutes after taking the chain saw to it. Jonathan helped him tie it off with a lumber chain (to a large tree up on the bank). GF cut the lowest heaviest limbs that were stretching toward the Barn, so that left the weight up hill. It fell nicely - opposite the Barn - [thank you, Lord!] It will take a full week of muscle to get that giant dissected and split into firewood. DGS was opining about needing to build his strength for a similar feat when he gets back home. He is a good hard worker, though, and he and GF will have a great week, I'm confident.

(The picture is DS on his own cut oak stump.)

There is some question about menu plans back at Teelside. Rumor has it that yesterday's lunch was Snoodles (ramen noodles) and Treet Meat sandwiches....we may be in trouble.

I BET SHE KNEW...

Some while back I offered to put the prairie points on DS Isobel's king-size quilt. As I recall she had cut a few and I whisked them up with the rest of the fabric and brought them home to await Nines' quilting completion. I don't remember when I got the quilt from Nines, but that's been a while, too.

Well, I was waiting for matching border fabric for binding, which DS sent in my christmas box, so no more excuses. I was procrastinating a little (procrastination is one of my flaws, sigh) - but with reason. Upon receipt of the binding fabric, I set out to press the cut squares. All this time, in the back of my mind I wondered..."how ever will I get these things attached evenly?" And then, "how ever will I manage this monster on the floor as I pin them unevenly." Mind you, I wasn't sorry I offered, but you know how it is. Sometimes those sincere offers turn into bigger jobs than you first visualize.

Can you tell? ...like Nines I'm in the throws of holiday denial. Surely I have time to finish off this quilt before I start baking.

All that worry for nothing. Those little points went down in perfect precision first time!! I BET SHE KNEW. Isobel probably figured out the dimensions and knew it would take 4-inch squares before she finished the top. Not only that, the king-size quilt spread quite nicely on my queen-size bed with the 'quilt vault' footer. THANK YOU DB-ANDY! When I got to the third side, I even figured out I could sit in Grandpa Millers oak chair and pin away without as much as the tiniest bend in my spine. (I must have gotten the slow genes in this mix.)

The moral of the story is, "Don't put it off...it might be a whole lot easier than you think [especially with the help of clever siblings]." Now go try and tell that to a dyed in the wool procrastinator!

NOTE: The picture won't tell, but the quilt piecing and applique on the apples is admirable. Nines quilted inside each apple with a different pattern. My favorite is the corner one, swirled with the worm poking out its little nose. How clever!

FOLLOW THE LEADER

It’s one of those little jobs that talks to you in your sleep. You can’t put it down. A low black ink cartridge keeps me from printing out DDIL’s wedding pictures, so I started at the other end of wedding memories. A full tray of photos are waiting...to follow the leader(s).

DD-Laurie was the first to wed in May 1986. Always a ‘do it myself’ kid, she ran the full gamut for her wedding. Designed and made her gown, the bridesmaids’ dresses, the flower girl’s dress and even the ring bearer’s suit. She also designed, baked and decorated her wedding cake. She did let me do the flowers (though I’m sure she’d have done as well or better). A bit Victorian; all white - everything. It was a very crisp, fresh wedding.

The local paper ran a piece on Laurie’s gown. I started my scrapbooking from that photo shoot. And there are loads and loads of pictures taken at the wedding to choose from when I move on to color – another day, depending on how my dreams progress. Right now I’m looking at family and friends in those pictures and remembering that first of wedding days was on a Sunday afternoon - Mother’s Day. Whew, were we tired!

And of course, I simply had to include photos of the flower girl (then and now), because she was married just last month and DD Laurie designed and made her (another) white wedding dress for the occasion. As Nines would say, “How cool is that!”

TIMELESS TREASURES

My project for this month is to get a few wedding pictures out of old cling-style albums into safer storage. The plan is to make scrapbook pages for each of our children from a few of the best wedding shots, and catalog the rest. Since I had no pictures of youngest DS Craig's wedding, request was made and quickly filled by DDIL Lisa.

This picture came by e-mail today. Looking at it fills my heart with wonder. The toddlers in this shot are now 19 and soon 18; and the rest of us have a lot more white hair, too. [And, in case you're wondering, Nines looks a bit peaked, because she's in premature labor...poor baby.] Oh, but I think we're ALL beautiful!

What a sweet host of memories a single photo can evoke. And aren't all pictures like that? I sometimes wonder if I would have any memory at all were it not for snapshots to prompt it. And pictures definitely fill out stored memories. I know there are photos that bring back my own childhood in ways long since lost otherwise.

So I guess I'll hang onto these timeless treasures. You know what they say, "In case of fire, grab the picture albums!" And thank you, Lisa ...you're a treasure!

For Nines - DS's back yard / herb garden ... NOT related to post :)

REVOLVING DOORS IN THE LAND OF BARBARIANS

A friend of ours coined the phrase ‘medical revolving doors,’ noting that once primary doctor’s care considered a condition, it’s doors revolved – between all known cohorts – until everyone got a stab at you. The friend called it sharing the bounty … tongue in cheek, maybe sharing more fee than wisdom.

I have my toe in that revolving door again. Yesterday, my D-twin-S wrote about my visit to the hospital for tests, “Sorry you had to be in the land of barbarians.” DS is an RN (the best I’ve ever seen) and knows whereof she humorously speaks truth. This time the doors revolved in a comedy of confusion, too.

The doctor, who was seeing drop-ins in family physician’s stead, told me I could just ‘drop in’ the imaging center anytime for kidney/bladder x-rays. When I called to be sure (Rule # 1: Never trust a doctor under 30, no matter how pleasant) I was told in answer to my questions about the procedure that (1) the dye is the same as is used in cardiac cath’s; (2) test must be pre-scheduled; (3) patient’s with dye allergy must have the procedure done at a hospital instead of imaging center; and (4) there is a 24-hour prep for the test. I was given the phone number for scheduling at the hospital and that call led to further discoveries: the ordering Dr. would have to supply Rx for pre-dosage steroids, a 24-hour (colonoscopy type – ugh) prep-kit as well as an order for bloodwork 48+hrs post test. More phone calls and another trip to pharmacy so that I myself could do the prep, take the pills (prednisone and benedryl), stop the pills (diabetes drugs) and have the bloodwork a few days after the test to see if my kidneys can tolerate resuming the diabetes meds. And of course pay the bills. . . which always goes unmentioned.

As sometimes happens, the prep was worse than the test. Sorry guys, but colon cleansing is barbaric! The steroids make me wired - I slept maybe 2 hours before night between that and tummy rumbles. But, the Benedryl helped me rest some during the test - which ran a 2-hour course, trying to lie still on a cold steel table. I noted that the equipment might have been around when DS David had his first kidney x-rays in 1969. On the bright side, the dye-needle went in with one poke instead of the usual 3-4 and only a moderate amount of subsurface probing; and that probing nurse brought blankets – heated ones!.

A few hours after returning home from my exciting adventure, my flesh started crawling. Yep, a look in the mirror found swollen eyes, red neck and drew the obvious conclusion that the pre-dose steroid needed a boost. More phone calls and another trip to pharmacy took another five hours. Let's just call this little dance the Barbarian Shuffle. By this time I’m saying, BEAM ME UP SCOTTY, I want Bones’ hand held scanner and 30-second diagnosis!!!

Lame humor aside, the results were good…no major problems, just a few more revolving doors.

Further, for those of you who are/know good health care providers, I truly do appreciate modern medical science and am grateful to have had first hand experience with life-saving intervention. I thank God for those who with insight, dedication and compassion serve needing patients…for such care makes the rest of the land of barbarians bearable.

Luxury's Lap

Does this not look like resort living?

We traveled to Florida for Thanksgiving holidays, spending a few days on either coast. First, DH's family (except DBIL Paul) met in Ormond Beach Sunday-Thursday. This included the typical rounds of easy company, shopping at St. Augustine outlet mall, dinners together at DSIL Eva's and a holiday feast at DSIL June/Bob, for which DD Laurie/family joined us. The weather was at first quite cool - we left fruit and excess food on the screened porch 'refrigerator' - but warmed as the week went on. All of our family gatherings seem to gather around food, and T-day just magnifies the proportion. What would T-Day be without dressing, smoked turkey, ham, onion pie, Laurie's fresh cranberry salad and desserts [many of which have evolved into low-fat/sugar versions]. I still vote with the kid who said she liked the bread the turkey ate best, though.

We hitched a ride back over to the gulf coast for a few days with DD Laurie where we were put up in luxurious style. The pic is a corner scene from the guest bedroom...no, make that suite. We rattled around in that suite in total privacy - an area about the size of our living quarters here at Teelside. There's a big ole recliner beside the brass bed and GF took up station there. We hitched a cold/respiratory virus on the east coast; my round was quite mild; his was anything but mild. For the duration of our stay the poor baby reclined with remote in hand. Fox News with a little CSI/Law and Order kept him reasonably distracted from misery. The programs were reruns, but since we've lived sans TV since 1999, that was not an issue.

Beside sneaking in LOTS of extra affection between kids/grandkids, I had the first-in-a-lifetime joy of attending a namesake's wedding. How sweet! Penijean and Brian were married on the Gulf beach - a warm and casually beautiful affair. The weather was perfect and in my sentimental state I could but believe that heaven was smiling on this precious pair.

Such lovely experiences lead me to wish I could be everywhere at once. We have such a wonderful circle in which to bounce around!!! But it's good to be home, too. 

THANKS GIVEN

It has been a week for reflection. This time last year Wayne was entrenched in CICU, facing a second open heart surgery in less than eight hours. The cardiologist’s nurse assistant was standing in a far dim corner with tears streaming down her face – trying to be unseen. The cardiologist was agitated, the surgeon sober … there wasn’t a lot of hope floating around.

Still there was love enough and faith enough to fill that space and stretch across the miles into eternity. God answered prayers – ours and yours. So here we are a year later, especially given to thanksgiving for time and memories that might not have been.

None among my friends and family would think of giving thanks but once a year, I’m sure. Still, it seems to me that along side our prayer list, we should keep a thank You list – lest we become presumptuous, ungrateful children. Our blessings are indeed countless.

Oh, give thanks to the Lord!
Call upon His name;
Make known His deeds among the peoples!
Sing to Him, sing psalms to Him;
Talk of all His wondrous works!
Glory in His holy name;
Let the hearts of those rejoice who seek the Lord!
Seek the Lord and His strength;
Seek His face evermore!
Remember His marvelous works which He has done,
His wonders, and the judgments of His mouth…

PSALM 105:1-5

SKINNY CATS

Yesterday was (late) (o.k., very late) fall cleaning day. I had been pondering since October’s knee surgery how to begin that little task. Our household has been running pretty much on a lick and a promise for several months now. You know - a lick at the dishes and a promise to mop after I sweep sometime soon. Even I can tolerate only so much dust and clutter, so the time was at hand.

But where to start? A list of course. And then I took the arbitrary notion to start out with a pain pill instead of waiting for a miserable end. My daddy always said there was more than one way to skin a cat. (Wherever did that expression come from?) To my way of thinking, my day needed a little help and it turned out not to be overindulgent, after all. The list had very few check-offs at my giving out point; but clean windows, curtain and rug washing along with regular tasks was a real good start. Today, cleaning the tea shelves, bathroom and computer corner seemed a breeze – without medical assistance. Still have to sweep/mop the floors tomorrow – the paper trail to/from the computer took too long to rid/file today – but that looks quite doable from here. So my skinny cat took three days and a lortab boost, but she’s sleek and trim and ready to relax, snuggle up in. A little cleaning can surely lift a spirit.

For a sit down job after cleaning the computer space I ripped some CD’s onto my hard drive. Now I won’t have to shuffle between Brightman, Beatles and Beethoven CD’s on the single player – just think of all the time I’ll save for leisurely pursuits. And this blogging spot is much more inviting.

There’s more than one way to keep a ripening apple on a skinny tree limb, too, as the photo will attest. GF engineered 5-gallon bucket supports which, like those resewn seams, “ain’t pretty, but it’ll hold.”

 

WHISKED AWAY

I've had a couple of little fun projects under foot the last while. First I serged together several utility aprons in adult and children sizes. Then a host of tea napkins. Imagine a white-headed granny with sprouting French twist huddled over the serger...rzzzz-click -click, rzzzz-click -click, rzzzz-click -click, rzzz-rzzz-z-z-z-z-snip...four sides, pausing to turn each corner then cutting the thread at the end. Fourteen sets of napkins (only four per set, plus 15-16 scrappy extras) - that's way over 50 knots to tie as GF sat getting his nightly Western novel fix. At least I was a bit better at turning those corners when I finished than when I began. Some of the napkins got a little lace trim and some didn't need it.

In each instance, I piled aprons/napkins into an envelope and whisked them off to never never land about as quickly as they were done. I didn't even press the napkins - for shame! No pictures for show and tell, either. Maybe the Indiana organizer will think to share a snapshot or two. . . while she's sitting around eating sugar-free bon bons and drinking de-caf tea. *Snicker.*

We had a fun weekend with DGS- Josiah. He called to ask his GF if he could "sleep over today." GF answered, "We don't sleep during the day." We drug him to Pomeroy OH for visitation with friends, evening church services and then back for a late bedtime - for which we were all ready. We did sleep over until after 8 o-clock this morning too. Josiah was quite impressed with GF's smoked venison roast and Bambi jerky. And GF about talked his leg off as they made outdoor rounds today...which, if you know Josiah, you know is something of a role reversal.

About now I just hope the hurried trip to the post office sent today's parcel through the gate to Indiana and not one akin to the pictured Teelside "gate to nowhere."

FLIP SIDE BARGAINS

The subtle rainbow of fabrics were quite a find. Together with the one sent off to Nines for her own use, I grabbed up backing for eight quilt tops in one fell swoop....for a bargain price of under $10 per quilt. Whoever heard of such a thing? I had one more quilt to match, but didn't find what I wanted so resisted. Ironically, the one I didn't match was the first one I pieced. All these pretty pieces, except the browns on the corner, will be stashed away for future delivery to In where their mates await completion. Their mates aren't anxious or lonely...I'm sure they're keeping each other happy company as they wait contendedly in that workshop of wonder.

But perhaps I should consider storing my future quilt tops here for a while, lest the added numbers get burdensome. I have my fun putting them together and fully trust the hands that store them for quilting whenever. I truly don't care if they don't get done in my lifetime...I know they won't end up in a yard sale or thrift shop. But one really shouldn't over tax a dear daughter, should one.

 

ABEL'S BIG FAT HEN

Nines was right - it took two pounds of rice to fill this big fat hen. But isn't she just so cute! She'll be laden down with pins in no time, so no, I do not think she is too big or too fat. Besides she has enough heft to hold down pattern pieces sans pins and GF's mail when the doors are left open.

You'll recognize the blocks from the gorgeous quilt Nines made for Abel. I loved the unusual colors in that quilt and the star in the corner, didn't you?

And as Abel lives in my heart, it's only fair and I'm very pleased to give him his own place at my (sewing) table. 

SLATES TO GO

I’m starting with these slates because they are my ONLY claim to productivity in weeks. No sewing, no writing (you knew that); and very little cooking for shut-ins or residents, housekeeping, etc. We have traveled a bit, but I’m slow about recording that as well.

Back to the slates – they are part of a craft project which I took to Nines this week. They represent but two and a half days labor – with lots of breaks. It was slow starting, which happens when you haven’t held a paintbrush forever, but progressed at decent speed. I was hurrying at the end and it shows; but that’s the way crafts sometimes go so I won’t point out the hurry flaws. Nina was pleased, so that’s all that matters.

We took a couple days out to deliver the slates, some extra/empty canning jars and some downstairs junk to Indiana. It was a good visit as always. GF could not be content to let Nines and I go Chinese alone, so he and I had a lovely ‘day out’ with just Nines (who can make anyone’s day extraordinary, as you know). We went by the nursing home for a brief visit with Bill’s mom, by the used book store to add to GF’s Z Grey and L’Amour collection and then on to lunch. It was a joy to watch GF relish the oriental buffet. Less home cooking builds an appetite for flavorful food and he does enjoy hot and spicy – any genre.

Other October Accounting: The first of the month found us at Niagara Falls – the Canadian side. We spent a few days there with GF’s DS/BIL, June/Bob. It was a great trip and we needed the full three days in Ontario to soak in the grandeur of the falls and surroundings. On the way back south we stopped for a brief visit with DB, Andy. I liked that as much as the falls. The second week of October found me at ambulatory surgery for one-day knee repair. They trimmed a frayed radial meniscus, found some of arthritis beginning and sent me on my way quickly. By now, I’ve almost healed from the procedure externally, but still have to baby the knee for a little while.

It’s bow hunting season here at home. GF went out the first time this morning and again this afternoon. His forays into the woods will make a little space for me to apply all that Nines taught me about postcard making and probably dig into a little apron serging and seasonal quilt piecing. At the moment, I need to get some clothes out of the dryer and finish making those rye rolls. Yep, things may be returning to normal…or as close to normal as probable around here.

 

Honeymoon Sweet Photo

 

HONEYMOON SWEET

Wayne discovered the magical kingdom that is Pocahontas County when his ‘blood brother’ moved to Seebert and invited him for a summer visit. In taking the 3-4 hour Greyhound bus trip from Charleston to Hillsboro the adventure was on! The boys camped on an island in the Greebrier River, fished off the cat rock, caught and sold bait for extra cash, and roamed the countryside – including frequent hikes across the low-water bridge into Watoga State Park territory. They were Tom and Huck building memories to last a lifetime.

Watoga was the one topic GF was not ever shy about discussing. Our dating phone calls were limited to 20 minutes and his teenage escapades there with Tom were an easy, frequent way to fill his side of the conversation. Stood to reason that Pocahontas County would be his first choice for vacations as an adult; and his first real vacation – apart from family visitations – was our honeymoon. Yep, Watoga State Park – no other consideration. We stayed in Cabin #32, a tiny, rustic one-room suite secluded behind a fence of rhododendron at the far end of Pine Run. We arrived about 1:30 a.m. to find the porch light on and the key in the door. (Such innocent times – last week keys were picked up in a sealed envelope at the office bulletin board, but that would still be too risky for most city life.)

I’ve now lost track of how many times we’ve stayed at Watoga. We’ve shared the park with friends and family on several vacations; one time we stayed two weeks (one with our children and another with the Wayne’s whole family); three of our children honeymooned there as well. So, yes, the Park has claimed a fair chunk of family history. We’re back to going it alone most of the time lately, but we’re never alone. We clearly see our children’s footprints (as toddlers, teens and twenties) on cabin porches, in the picnic area and along the trails. A screen door banging revives scenes of bologna sandwich lunches, evening popcorn and songfests. We meet familiar spirits in the morning fog that hangs on the lake, across the many footbridges, up on the lookout towers and along the wooded pathways.

Watoga cabins were built in the 30’s as a CCC project. No two are alike and they are marvels of craftsmanship. Renovations – the necessary bane of time – including new kitchen appliances, showers and furniture change the complexion somewhat. They’ve kept as many of the wormy chestnut tables as possible, the new curtains are nice, the queen-sized beds are an improvement, but the new seating is a bust. (When bones get old one gets whiny about uncomfortable seating, I guess – save me an old rocking chair, please.)

Changes notwithstanding, Watoga is ever enchanting. Every year as September approaches the wood smoke wafting down the hollows calls us back. As we pull into the park entrance we take the five-mile course through the tunnel of trees edged with laurel and crisscrossed by a rocky waterway, breathe deeply of the mountain air, sigh our souls’ renewal and let the world roll off out shoulders. We soak it all up – be it for a few hours or a few days – then with kindred sigh and misty eyes we drive back through that same tunnel thanking the Lord for yet another sweet honeymoon.

Love to go - hate to leave - keep the magic tucked inside ... 'til next time.

Once upon a time - long, long ago…

…on a Sunday morning I decided to drop back a few pews and join a young woman (9 years my senior) who took warm and friendly interest in me. Little did I realize that when I sat down beside Eva I was usurping her younger brother’s customary seat. This brother was extremely shy, but somehow gathered enough courage to keep his spot on the pew by sitting next to me.

The rest, as they say, is history – I was 15, he was 16 and we’ve been sharing a pew (from there to Florida, to Pennsylvania and back to West Virginia) ever since. Three and a half years after that simple beginning, on September 2, 1963, we walked down the aisle between those first pews as bride and groom.

A few years ago, at a 50th anniversary party, Wayne asked my Uncle Corley what he most remembered about his and Aunt Justine’s garden wedding. Uncle Corley looking far away with misty eyes and sweet smile, said simply, “It was a great day!” My sentiments exactly! It hardly seems possible that Wayne and I have been married 43 years…and I can barely recall a time when I was not his wife. Our life has been so blessed and I thank God daily for our “happily ever after” romance.

With fiendish glee, Wayne tells our “how we met” story as if I were the spider than sat down beside her to lure him into my web. Truth is I did not know (or dream) that he usually sat there. But I now believe that my notion to sit by Eva and Wayne’s nerve to sit by me were, indeed, Providential – God knew I needed him!

I want YOU!!!

[The mother I cherish in memory]

Recently reading about DS-Ian clinging to Sarah, crying, “I want YOU!” as she was leaving him at kindergarten nearly broke my heart. What a heart wrenching saga. I’m fairly certain it was harder on Sarah than Ian, but Ian might not think so now.

When our DS-David was five he spent over a week in the hospital for major kidney surgery. How well I remember leaving him alone in that hospital room when visiting hours were over each day. (Hospitals had "no parents” rules in those days…shudder.) He was so good and brave, but it broke my heart to leave him. I still cry when I think of that.

Though partings are a part of life – hopefully a part of better things ahead – they can in the meantime be pretty painful.

On the other hand, it occurs to me that little Ian’s appeal truly touches a mother’s very nature. For as long as a mother lives this tender thread will abide within her: a mother will always want to be needed and need to be wanted ... because her nature is to nurture.

So, it matters not your age or hers, should you have/make opportunity today to show your mother that you cherish her motherhood, it would be a good thing. In fact, it would be a VERY good thing.

Am I preaching again? No, just nudging, if you're in the market for a nudge.