Family, Faith, and Fun: Church Meetings Next Door

Many Saturdays , our neighbors held church meetings in their home. They probably served a meal and visited since the guests remained a great portion of the day.

Our unfenced backyards ran together. Children of all ages played freely between the two yards while their parents worshipped. My kids loved the party atmosphere, mingling freely with the kids.

We were adding an addition to our house at the time. Bud had his power tools set up in the open area of the addition. No doubt, the power tools were quite loud, impacting the service next door. It was unfortunate they were holding services on the day Bud had laid out to work but he had to work on his days off.

Nevertheless, sometimes we could hear their enthusiastic singing over Bud’s sawing. After a while, a lady took it upon herself to speak to Bud about the noise. Genially, Bud replied, “Oh, go right ahead. You’re not bothering me.” In a huff, she returned to the service next door.

Meanwhile, our children had been invited and went along to the service when the kids were called in. After about twenty minutes, my son John came casually ambling out. “How did you like church, son?” I asked.

“It was okay. I helped ‘em sing and listened to Mr. Bob talk a little, but when they got ready to bust the bread, I came home.”

Planting

Which topics would you like to be more informed about?

I would love to know more about horticulture. I love to garden but sadly lose plants. My mother-in -law could drop her mop outside the back door and it would root before she picked it up. Many times I took her an ailing plant and the next time I saw it, it would be hale, hearty and a dazzling green.

She was very casual about her planting. She did not purchase fancy pots or fertilizer. Her pants loved her. If they’d sprouted feet, I knew they follow her. She rarely bought a plant. She’d just start with a cutting from a friend.

Patches: A Story of Our Calico Cat

I believe our calico cat, Patches, was mentally ill. From the beginning, she liked the men in the family. As for the women, she either treated us with disdain or total rejection.

Many times, Patches behaved as though she was having hallucinations, staring intensely at walls or furniture as though something was there.

She was a very picky eater, preferring one brand of boxed cat food. The only other thing she’d touch was tuna. One morning I gave her the last of the cat food. That afternoon, on the way home from school, I sent my daughter into a convenience store with a five-dollar bill, assuming that was plenty. In a minute she was back out with her purchase. I always let the kids keep the change if they went in the store.

When we got home, Patches was yowling. I tore the top off the bag and poured. Patches had her face almost in the dish as dust fogged in her face, nearly choking her. My daughter had bought the cheapest item on the shelf with a cat picture. That may have been the very moment Patches took a dislike to us.

Bud and I settled into bed one night when Patches decided to visit him. He was lying flat on his back when she jumped up on him and started purring loudly and making biscuits on his chest. Eventually, she quieted down.

“Thank goodness, she finally settled down.” I said

“Yea, but I’d feel at lot better about it if she didn’t have her butt right on my face.” The

Photo from WordPress photo library

Cat Cartoons

Segway

Segway, the motorized scooter, is not for the clumsy. We visited Sarasota, Florida many years ago with my daughter who’d been yearning for a Segway adventure. I wasn’t. I’ve always been uncoordinated. I knew what was in store for me.

In case you don’t know, the Segway has a motion sensor. When you lean forward, it goes forward. I hated it on site. Had I heard this ironic story about the Segway owner on NPR before my little outing, I’d have never gone.

“Owner Of Segway Dies On Segway

SEPTEMBER 27, 20109:58 AM ET

By 

JJ Sutherland

Jimi Heselden, the owner of Segway, apparently drove one of the personal transport devices off a cliff and into a river. He was killed. Police say they do not suspect foul play.”

We received a whisper of instruction before our Segway ride began. My performance was even worse than I expected. I looked like I was trying to dance with the wretched thing. I never actually fell but I looked like a bobble-head doll. While everyone else in the group coasted along smoothly, I struggled to retain my upright position. I hated it!

Photo from Google

Music

What would your life be like without music?

I am not a great listener to music.I don’t have music accompanying my routine activities. I have ADD and am easily distracted by any sound. Listening to music is a decision. When I want to listen, I want to be totally absorbed.

5 Funny Moments with Babies

baby and dog

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Funny-Lips-Baby-Picture

Baby eyes closed.Funny Pictures of Cats and Kittens

Exploring Nature: Our Cat’s Hunting Tales

We live on a two acre tree-covered lot. It slopes down to a wet-weather creek. The creek flows much of the year. As a result, we are well-supplied with water-loving creatures: frogs, snakes, and mosquitoes. We keep it free of overgrowth, but we don’t hang around out there.

That brings me to our black cat, Socks. He was a sweetheart, regularly gifting us with mice, moles, and the occasional snake. We soon learned not to automatically open the door without d checking to see what gift he be bearing.

Socks particularly liked hunting snakes. He’d make for the creek, seeking them out, turning over, rocks, and branches, slapping at the water. His encounters weren’t happenstance. From a distance, you tell when he found his prey. He’d go from stalking to attack in seconds,

Most often, he’d fare well, bringing a floppy snake to play with. Twice he went missing for about three days, finally returning with a softball-sized head and healing fang -marks. He’d keep close to home for a few days before returning to to hunt.

Sadly, after a few years, Socks went missing, presumably suffering a fatal snake encounter.

Ten Commandments Especially for Us

The Gospel According to Daddy

ten

Daddy was “the Boss.” God put him in charge, so we didn’t have to worry about what God wanted.  If we had any questions, we could go straight to Daddy.  He always had a Bible verse at the ready to back him up, if needed.  Most of them sounded suspiciously freshly-coined and self-serving, lacking book, chapter, and verse. Not having memorized the entire Bible, it was hard to prove they didn’t exist, like the one that forbade men to milk cows, “You cannot take what you cannot give.” Please. You didn’t have to be a heathen to see through that one.  Actually, Daddy anticipated our needs, requiring no effort on our part.  Permission to visit a friend, attend a school activity, or socialize had to come from Daddy.

Well, this is not strictly true.  Mother was free to say, “No” any time she chose.  The answer for visiting or socializing was easy.  “No. You don’t need to go.  Tell so and so they can come here.”   “No you can’t go to that party.  You don’t know who will be there.”  Or even more emphatically, “NO!  ………..will be there!”

School activities were usually okay in theory…… 1. If we weren’t grounded.  2. If one of the other kids in the family wasn’t grounded.   3. If nobody in the family had C or lower on their report card.  How often would a family with five kids not have at least one doofus with a C or lower on their report card?  This ruled out most opportunities to attend school activities, and “It’s your own fault.  You shouldn’t have even have had to ask.”  Of course, the answer was “No.”

School dances were off limits.  We were Baptists, and at that time, in addition to preaching the Ten Commandments, Baptists preached against dancing, drinking, and wearing shorts.  Even asking to go to a dance was a sin.  The sermons didn’t hold the other Baptists back, Daddy always made sure we didn’t do those things expressly preached against.  I didn’t have too much trouble with the Ten Commandments, never having coveted my neighbor’s wife, committed adultery, and so far hadn’t killed anyone, but I wanted to go to dances.   There was no commandment forbidding dancing, but dancing would have incited lust.  If Daddy had bothered to check out the kids we went to school with, he wouldn’t have worried too much about lust. Most kids were hayseeds, skinny, pimply, and inbred.  In the early sixties, we had no access to mind-altering substances to make us look better to each other.

In the unlikely event everyone had perfect grades, the activity didn’t break a commandment, and our plans could still wash out at the last minute if Daddy was in a bad mood, or one of the neighbor’s kids had behaved outrageously, causing Daddy to require us to be a perfect example.  In addition to the opportunity to provide a perfect example, we got to stay home and luxuriate in the added bonus of their lecture by proxy.

As all parents do, Daddy invoked his miserable upbringing, replete with selective memories, to reinforce whatever point he was making at the time.  If he needed to point out we were being selfish, “Once we went three days with nothing to eat!”  If Mother didn’t want to make ice cream, “One thing we could always count on.  Mama always made ice cream on the Fourth of July.”  He looked injured and almost tearful.  He wanted dessert after every meal.  “My mother made a cake every day.”  He may have thought I wasn’t listening, but I pondered every word in my heart.  The next time he rolled out, “Once we went three days without eating.” I shot back, “Why didn’t you eat one of those cakes your mama made every day.”  I got a quick lesson in the difference in smart and smart-aleck and secondly “silence would have been golden.”  My life would have been so much easier if I had just followed these commandments.

Commandments 

I. Thou shalt not do anything without my approval.  This includes failing to anticipate what I might want you to do or having to be told twice.  God help you if you anticipated wrong.  There is no recovering from that.  About fifty-percent of the time, I’d say, “I thought you would want………”  with the resulting reply, “That’s what you get for thinking.” Growl, growl , growl, growl, growl.

Approximately forty-nine percent of the time, I’d defend myself by saying, “I didn’t think…….” To which the response w.as

“If you aren’t going to think, you might as well be alike on both ends.  Growl, growl, growl, growl, growl.”

If there appeared to be no retribution headed my way, my eyes glazed over with the first growl.

About one percent of the time I didn’t mess up.

II. Thou shalt not sass.  Sassing includes anything from actual speech to questioning authority.  

Sassing meant failing to say, “Yes sir” or “No sir,” eye-rolling, or being sullen.  One should snap into a jolly mood as soon as punishment was complete show appreciation for discipline.  Sometimes, I had a little trouble with this one.

Obstinance could be anything from pouting (sticking one’s lip out and refusing to speak), eye-rolling(God help you), to disputing his word.  (But I didn’t leave the gate open, whether you had or hadn’t.)

III. Thou shalt not think bad thoughts.  Bad thoughts included harboring anger toward parents, thinking of doing something wrong, or keeping secrets.  If I knew one of my siblings had done something wrong, I was as guilty as they were if I didn’t tell.  If he knew I knew Billy stole a gumball, I got my rear whipped, too, when the truth came out.

IV. Thou shalt not ask to do things.  School dances, wearing shorts, causing boys to lust (this was never a big problem for me) or asking to stay over with friends could get you quite a lecture.  If other kids got in trouble and he learned of it, they got lectured by proxy.  I guess we were free to pass it on if we wanted.  He assumed every kid who got in trouble was our dearest friend.

V. Thou shalt not be lazy.  There were cows to be milked and hogs, chicken, and other livestock  to be fed daily.  Then there was the seasonal work; haymaking, clearing land, piling and burning brush.  Daddy was generous toward his women-folk.  There was no work they couldn’t do.  Daddy and my brother couldn’t do “women’s work.”  It was demeaning, fit only for women.  Doing men’s work improved women and kept them humble.

VI. Men shall not milk cows.  Thou canst not take what thee cannot give.  The Chapter, Book, and Verse of this injunction was never sited.  Daddy just knew it was in the Bible somewhere.  He couldn’t risk messing up on this one.

VII. Thou shalt not be trashy.  This one was directed to women and girls who without his guidance, have flaunted themselves.  They must wear knee-length dresses and not flirt or do anything to make the neighbors think ill of Daddy.  The worst insult he could hurl at a girl was “fix your clothes.”  God forbid, at best, a girl’s dress was over her head, or at worst a girl might have humiliated him by intentionally soiling her skirt, a premeditated insult to his dignity.

VII. Thou shalt never utter sexual innuendoes or dress in a way that would lead any man or boy in considering you in a sexual context.  This would be the ultimate insult to his dignity and authority.

VIII. Thou shalt not be trashy.  This embarrassment is the worst a man can suffer, trashy women in his family.

IX. Thou shalt be grateful thee has a father to raise thee right.  Thee would be in the street if he weren’t here to guidetelling ten commandments thee.

X.  Thee should always come to me with thy problems.  (Fat chance)