Another week has passed all too swiftly. I wonder if we will ever have warm enough days for gardens to grow. The lawn grass sure grows fast despite the cool nights.
I do not have much to write in the guise of news, but as I have always heard, “No news is good news.”
I did enjoy a day with my friends at club. We missed Barb and Jo, who were both at their appointments with doctors.
And I went to Kasey’s Saturday evening for a fish fry hosted by Kasey and Greg. They fried the fish to perfection and the side dishes with cornbread and desserts made for some good eating and enjoyment shared with family and friends.
Karen brought dinner from town one day for a shared lunch.
Karen and Kasey brought my flowers for our loved ones and took pictures for me. I can’t navigate in places I used to go.
I have memories of all those now laid to rest. Besides Mom and Daddy, Jim Allred and grandparents in Fannon and Clark Cemeteries I have many family members buried at Murray. So I just hold their memories close. Those memory bouquets are more precious than the artificial ones we spread on the graves and sometimes those are the ones we like best.
I have been spring cleaning the past week. Now my spring cleaning doesn’t mean floors, walls and windows, as my sis has been doing. My cleaning lady does that. My cleaning is exploring desk drawers and notebooks and picture albums and re-reading all the itms I have written for the Douglas County Herald. I have two desks and two cabinets full. Periodically I go through forgotten tid-bits tucked here and there and re-read notes and things I have written from time to time. I review bits of wisdom and thoughts too precious to throw away and some too hurried for anything, but scribbling on an old envelope.
I thought today I’d share a few of my clean sweepings, thoughts not big enough for a whole column and not small enough for discarding.
Definition of spring cleaning: creating order from disorder in order to make room for more disorder.
I ponder why we get smarter when we get old and it’s too late to do all the things we would have done differently if we had been smarter.
And why do we never learn that some things never change even if we’re determined they will.
No matter how much you know about a matter someone always knows more.
No matter how sick you are someone is always sicker.
There’s no such thing as a perfect child, although yours come close and there’s always an exception to the rule.
One time we can honestly say we have gifted children is at Christmas.
Some of the four letter words that seem to shock our younger folk are cook, wash, iron and mend.
“Overheard in” Wal-Mart a mother to her small child, “Now if you get lost you come right back here.”
And a few “remember whens” for some of my senior friends.
We never get tired of remembering the past. Remember when the first oleo came out with a yellow capsule of coloring to be worked in. At Grandma Wise’s was the first time I remember having this.
Remember straight razors, I still have Daddy’s and the razor strap used to sharpen them. It also served another purpose.
Remember the magical Aladdin lamps with gas mantles made of very fragile material. And the gas irons making the “sad” irons obsolete. We couldn’t use one today if we chose to because the wood stoves to heat them are also things of the past.
Remember when ladies wore hats in church.
When suggestive and bawdy language was never aired.
When every eye would be drawn heavenward when aircraft could be heard overhead.
When the first electric lines went through the Ozarks and the first hum of refrigerators.
Remember when going to a movie was anticipated for days and remembered for weeks.
Remember when the town square was full of people watchers and others visiting on Saturdays all day long while kids were at the Saturday matinees.
And oh those hoola hoops, saddle shoes, homemade dresses and big hair. And remember also that here, in the Ozarks, old places and old ways still survive some only in memories and that we old time native hillbillies consider it an honor to be known as such and we luxuriate in reminders of an earlier age when things seemed simpler and more peaceful.
I’ll leave ya’ll with a small picture of the Ozarks then and now and invite you to send me your “remember whens.”
And remember Labor Day weekend is our family reunion. By then I hope to have my book of memories and other things about finished so get your material to me please.