Storytelling

Hard Time Marrying

This is a series I wrote in 2015. Not many of my current followers have seen it. I hope you enjoy it.


Their union had a bleak start.  Meeting at the train in the freezing rain, she clutched his letter.  They married minutes later at the preacher’s house, barely speaking as they shivered the two hours home in his open wagon.  In her letter, she’d not mentioned the two little ones, though with all fairness, the marriage was only one of need on both parts. They were proof she could bear the children he hoped for.  Burning with fever by the time they got to his homestead; dead by the next sundown, she left him with two little ones he had no taste for.  Barely reaching his knee, they toddled mutely in perpetual ,soggy diapers dragging to their knees, uttering gibberish only they understood.  As soon as he could get her wrapped in a quilt, he buried this stranger wife and headed back to dusty Talphus, Texas with the sad burden of her orphaned little ones.  The church or the town would have to do for them.  Loading them in a snug in a bed of hay, wrapped in a ragged quilt, hay heaped over them.  he pitied and grieved for them on the long trip back to town, knowing the hard life they faced.  Stopping several times to make sure they were warmly covered, he was relieved to find them pink and warm.
He hardened his heart against them, knowing only too well the life they were facing.  He’d never known family, just been passed from hand to hand.

Izzy’s Journey: From Trash to Treasures

My little rescue dog obviously never had a toy before settling in with us. He was a quick study. Soon he was obsessing over them.

When I make the bed in the morning, I empty the bed of his menagerie. He quickly returns them to the foot of the bed. As the day continues, he progressively moved them toward Bud’s pillow and rumples the bed covers in order to conceal them.

I’m glad he shares his collection exclusively with Bud, especially his two favorites, a desiccated round steak bone and a shark rib bone he snitched from the trash. Bud trashed the bones several times, but the keep returning.

Izzy’s collection
Izzy

Fire!

I was not envious of Bud when I was a kid. He lived directly across from the Baptist church. He’d never have been able to come up with an excuse to skip church if his feet worked.

As was usual in that day, the parsonage was alongside the church. Also, as usual, the preacher’s kid was a rotter. Although there were no kids his age at the Bethea household, they’d made the mistake of tolerating him, so he haunted Bud’s poor sisters. He never bothered to knock, just made himself welcome.

One day, he showed up just as they were taking brownies out of the oven. The brownies were intended for an upcoming social event. Nonetheless , without waiting for an invitation, he helped himself. Finding them to his satisfaction, he remarked, “That was good. I’ll have another.”

On another occasion, he let himself in the front door without invitation, as usual, announcing he had a box of matches. Cognizant it was the fall of the year with tempting piles of dry leaves lying about the yard, one of the girls reminded him to keep those matches in his pocket. Her direction went in one ear and out the other. Within five minutes, he was tearing through the house shouting, “Fire! And I don’t know how it got started!”

Perfect Happiness

It is so easy to make Bud a perfect meal, I don’t know why I don’t do it every night.

There are several interchangeable choices. All I have to do is cook steak, chicken, roast beef or pork, ribs, or meatloaf with gravy. My second decision is between rice, stewed or mashed potatoes. The third decision is the side. Black-eyed peas, always Bud’s first choice, either pinto, lima, red, or green beans.

Of course, we need a bread. Biscuits, cornbread, or rolls are always fine. Should I feel particularly industrious, dessert is in order, preferably homemade apple pie or yellow cake with buttercream frosting.

I can throw all the salad in the trash. Oh yes, Bud always volunteers to make the gravy if its not cooked along with the meat.

The Best of the Best Relationship Memes

Common Sense and the Camper (Part 2)

https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2015/11/18/common-sense-and-the-camper/

CamperOne of the great benefits of my parent’s cross-country camping trip was that they had the opportunity to share their cab-over camper for three weeks with two hormone-ridden teenage girls.  For some reason, they’d taken leave of their senses and forced my sixteen-year-old sister Marilyn to accompany them, though she could have stayed with either me or Phyllis, either of whom were as married and dull as Mother and Daddy ever thought of being.  They sweetened the pot by letting her friend Rhonda who became every bit as unpleasant as Marilyn after a few snug hours together.

In the way of teenagers everywhere, the girls snored snugly in their bunks all day as the camper passed the glorious sites of the Americas.  As a result, both were wide-awake and ready to go when they stopped to make camp every evening.  At an RV camp in Las Vegas, two young ladies who looked to have complicated social situations dawdled about the office as they checked in.  Before, I go on with this story, you need to know, my dad was a no-nonsense “I ain’t worried if you like me.  I’m your Daddy” kind of guy.  He didn’t put up with any nonsense.  He pointed out that RV Camp Girls looked trampy.  Though Marilyn and Rhonda didn’t even talk to them, they got a nice lecture just in case they’d ever thought of dressing or acting “like them trashy gals,”  a term he often used make a point and make his girls’ blood boil.

They made camp and cooked supper outdoors.  About ten o’clock as their evening drew to a close Daddy told his disgusted girls it was about time to turn out the lights and settle in for the night.  After a long day of napping, naturally, they dawdled.  After a couple of warnings, just as the lights went out, there was a knock at the camper door.  He opened it to find the two young lovelies they’d seen at the office earlier in the day.  One of them was obviously pregnant below her brief halter-top.

“Can your girls go out for a while?  We’ve got dates for them?” they asked, invitingly.

Behind him, Mother and the big-eyed girls waited for him to explode into a vitriolic diatribe at their request.  Instead, he replied as calmly as if he had been at a tea-party and asked if he wanted “one lump or two.”

“Well, I guess not, but thanks for inviting them.  We have to leave pretty early in the morning.”

Pigs flew and Hell froze over.

Time

Do you need time?

No. I don’t have to try to squeeze too much into a day anymore, something to be grateful for. When my children were little, I got up at 5:00 am and cooked a hot breakfast while I dressed for work. I usually folded a load of clothes and put another in the washer. My daughter always wanted grits and eggs so that involved some cooking.

At 5:00, I handed off to Bud. He got the kids up, made sure they were dressed in clothes we’d put out the night before, and on the bus..

Upon arriving home, I put clothes in the dryer and another in the washer, then started dinner while Bud and I tag-teamed on homework, dinner, and baths. We usually shared family time till bedtime while I entertained myself loading the dishwasher or folding a load of clothes.

By 9:00, we were usually grateful to settle down to a cup of tea or coffee and a little evening relaxation. Of course, I put on a load of laundry on the way to bed.

No one knows what they are signing on for when starting a family. I am grateful for my family then and now. Time is relative.

Lovely Trip

I have to catch up with all my WordPress friends. We visited Mountain View, Arkansas for a few days. We stayed at a rustic cabin on the shores of Syllamore Creek.

We did absolutely no touristy things, only leaving the cabin once to buy groceries. We spent one afternoon watching buzzards glide on the updrafts from the creek up the cliff. Their ability to glide indefinitely was something to see. They seemed to exert no energy. They were still circling when the heavy rain ran us from our rockers on the back porch. The rain pounding on the tin cabin roof was relaxing.

Note the mansion on the bluff above the creek. Though we were at the cabin three nights, they never invited us up for coffee.

Lou and Lynn Part 22 Exploring Old Boxcars: A Girl’s Adventure

Lou soon knew why Lynn liked Sue so much. Sue was good-natured and loved playing outdoors. They climbed trees and played in the creek as much as they wanted. Sue had no chores, so nothing interfered with playing. Aunt Julie wasn’t fussy about how dirty they got. She rinsed them off with the water hose before they came in.


The only low point was Aunt Julie made all the kids come in and take an afternoon nap. In reality, only Aunt Julie and the boys took a nap. She just made them all lie down. Lou hadn’t taken a nap in years. There was no way she could go to sleep in the middle of the day. The girls started out lying on Sue’s bed talking quietly. Of course, they soon got giggly, then rowdy. Aunt Julie kept rousing up telling them to be quiet. By the time they had a pillow fight and broke a vase, she was furious. She gave up on her nap and ran them outdoors.

Fortunately, she didn’t stay mad long and brought out popsicles. The girls had the creek and vine to themselves while the boys napped. In the late afternoon, Troy and Billy woke up and came out to play. Aunt Julie brought the rescue puppy. He was the cutest little guy. Once he got over his shyness, he got rowdy and played enthusiastically.

A railroad track lay in the woods not too far behind Sue’s house. Two abandoned boxcars stood on a sidetrack. “Have you ever looked in those boxcars?” asked Lynn. “That looks interesting.”

”Let’s go see what’s in them,” answered Sue. The girls took off running. The boxcars were a lot bigger than they’d looked from a distance. They had to boost each other up, then pull the last girl up. It took a minute for their eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the boxcars.

The walls of the interior were covered with graffiti. There were two huge dragons battling each other, spewing fire from their mouths. A huge Jesus covered the end with the giant word, “”Repent!”There were a couple of women with their clothes falling off. There were numerous poems the girls could never repeat. It would have taken hours to see everything but it was getting dusky. From the house, they could hear the honking of a car horn. Sue looked startled. “Oh no, I bet Mama’s looking for us!” They climbed out and raced back home through the tall grass.

Sure enough , Aunt Julie was waiting for them. “Where in the world have you girls been? Troy said he saw you headed for the old train.” she said. She looked upset!

”We looked in them,” Sue said. “You should have seen all the pictures on the walls!”

”Don’t you ever go around those boxcars again! That’s dangerous! There could have been hobos hiding out there. There’s no telling what could have happened to you. Lynn, if your daddy ever finds out you went in those boxcars, you’ll never get to come back. You’d better think hard about that! Oh my Lord. You girls scared me!”

Big-eyed, the girls exchanged glances. Thy knew they’d never tell!