Lissy’s Heartbreak

Lissy, a tiny black-haired girl came to Vacation Bible School with her cousin Judy the summer I was ten.  I immediately warmed to her, though she was so shy she’d only talk to her cousin.  She and her mother had come to spend the summer with her Uncle Joe and his family.  I didn’t see Lissy again until August when Mother spent a few days in the hospital delivering my youngest sister. 

Lissy was Mother’s roommate.  I was almost totally ignorant of anything to do with sex, having only accrued a bit of misinformation at that point, but I did catch on that there was a big secret about Lissy.  I overheard Lissy’s mother talking to the doctor, “She wouldn’t start, and she wouldn’t start, but when she finally did, she wouldn’t stop.”

Lissy was crying and wouldn’t answer the doctor’s questions.  I never saw her again.

Mother sent me out before I heard any more.  I felt bad for Lissy, but was intrigued.  Knowing I’d learn nothing more, I sequestered that information in my mind, hoping I’d understand later.  Long after I was grown, I remembered to ask Mother about it.  She remembered well.  Little Lissy had suffered a miscarriage and was admitted with massive blood loss.  She was only eleven.

 

The Questions and the Math: A Small Reflection on Poverty

Reblogged from Getoffmylawn. Poverty can be soul-destroying.

John Callaghan's avatarGet Off My Lawn

Poverty is a blight, a disease, a cancer, a kind of rust that never sleeps as it erodes dignity and injects anxiety into the host, slowly saturating the soul and taking the body for itself. Poverty is the manifestation of failure, sometimes deserved, sometimes not, but once marked the stain lasts forever. Recovery is slow, and the heart never fully heals.

Poverty

It’s always the math. That math consumes the mind in feverish, compulsive ways. The math and the questions. How much is left? How many days til payday? Til there’s more? What bill to pay? What can I not pay? How much do I have per day? Can I make it? How many meals can I get from  a pound of hamburger? Count, count, count. Try to calculate the amount of pay and subtract the bills and do it over and over hoping I didn’t forget anything. Hoping the balance will be more. Wait…

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The Joy of Eavesdropping

imageCaution you may be offended. Contains adult content!

We all have different parenting styles.

I overheard a hilarious phone conversation a furious friend and co-worker had with her teenage daughter at work one day. (repeated verbatim)

“Kaylee, You been gittin’ in my drawers!”

Pause

“Yes you have! I can tell you been diggin’ around in there! Them’s f___ing panties! Is you f____ing!”

She slammed the phone down. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with that little ‘ho! I can’t keep her out of my f___ing panties”

I was rolling on the floor, laughing.

I Am Whipped

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Saturday my two sisters and I went over to help Mother a little. She’d gotten a bit behind on her gardening and was starting to stew about it. She had a mess. There were about fifteen plants that were going to die if we didn’t get them in the ground immediately We worked frantically weeding, cultivating, fertilizing, and planting for several hours. By the time we were through, it looked good. I thought we were all done, but As I loaded my stuff in my truck, I stumbled over half a dozen more she had stashed in a front bed. I wanted to cry, but was too tired to dig and plant any more.
I went back over today to finish the planting and cut some small trees that had sprung up in her hedges. It was such a relief to get to a quitting place and have a glass of tea.
As I went to load my truck to go home. I found several flats of annuals sitting in the shade. I KNOW those weren’t there Saturday! She has no shame!

Waiting and Learning

imageI am waiting at the Social Security Office. I’ve been married more than forty-five years and am just now getting around to changing my name on my card. I hope this marriage works out. I’d hate to have to come back. The good thing about waiting is people-watching and listening.
The couple next to me got on a discussion over whether she’d be putting fat-back or bacon in the collards. She asserted,”I ain’t puttin’ no fat-back in my greens!” The guy was making up quite a fuss, but I think it will be bacon grease.
From another par, I found out Abby slipped off to school in leggings knowing better and Granny had to take her a pair of jeans, because Mama didn’t have the truck today.
Another couple discussed how sorry Jody was. She pulled a big hunk of Bobby’s hair out when he caught her with his cigarettes.
There are several left ahead of me. This is fascinating. I hope they don’t call me before I find out who the Baby-Daddy is.

Monday Funnies…

Re logged from ChristheStoryreadingApe

AWWWWsome Kids & Their Pets Photos…

From Christhe StoryreadingApe

Ogle

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This young lady gots lots of looks in the airport today. I love people watching.

The Question Box & Other Childhood Folkisms #Humor #Families

Reblog from the Question Box. “Don’t make me stop this car!”

warturoadam77p's avataritinerantneerdowell

Now, pipe down as we head down the nostalgic road to yesteryear.  I wouldn’t want to have to put the quietus on you.  Don’t make me turn this car around!  This is a list of parental, grandparental words, phrases, admonitions from childhood–all my selective memory would allow.  There are many more.  I’ve included a link to a similar themed post from another blog I enjoyed reading.

  1. Looking glass:  Mirror
  2. Window light: Window
  3. Hard roads:  Paved highways
  4. Molygrumps:  Being extra grumpy or crabby
  5. Chum, School chum:  Friend or buddy
  6. Footfeed:  Automobile accelerator pedal
  7. Isinglass:  Fireproof, translucent, pot-bellied stove windows
  8. Clinkers:  Cinders, left from burning coal or wood (not to be confused with clunkers)
  9. Coal oil:  Kerosene for heating or lighting
  10. Fagged out:  Tired, exhausted (no slur intended)
  11. Eyes bigger than stomach:  Took more than could eat
  12. Make better door than window:  Penalty for blocking TV
  13. Buying, selling:  Buy for what you’re worth, sell for…

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