Y'all Line Up and Get Your Medicine

Y'all line up and get your medicine...Oh dear, that was the one phrase I had such an adversion to hearing in my youth. When we children heard that, it meant the older five ending with myself. Getting our medicine didn't mean the kind you take, swallow, or any other means of being administered. It meant the form of a whipping administration. The sister just a year older than I was always wanted to be last and I could never figure out why. Until one day I ended up at the end of the line by mistake. Pa had whipped the four ahead of me and it didn't seem as bad as when I was first in line. There weren't just a few strikes but many, in the range of twenty to thirty at a time. I always thought it was better to be the first and get it over with quickly so I could go behind the smoke house and cry my tears in private. I was not always successful in containing my post whipping emotions inward and there were times I sobbed my heart out as I knew I did not deserve that whipping I had just received. There seemed to be a problem in my family of one or the other taking something we were told to leave alone. It was law in our household that if it wasn't yours you better not touch it. I feared the whippings I knew would find us when the law had been broken at our house. Candy, gum, cookies were not something found in abundance at our house, if they did show up they were put in a brown crock cookie jar. It even had the word cookies on it so it could sit up on the top of the safe in its tempting spot. We older children had strict orders to leave it alone as it was for Mama and the youngest child only. No one said life was fair and I learned that at a very early age. My first time attending school by the local grocery store near the school. I was given the task of taking a dime to school and buying two candy bars. One for Mama and one for the youngest child. Somehow that just didn't seem fair. I had to guard those things with my life. My older sister wanted a candy bar too and told me how to get her one and she even told me to get myself one too. Well I finally got up my nerve to do the bad deed and as I was slipping the first candy bar into my purse I heard a soft voice saying I wouldn't do that if I were you. I dropped that candy bar back in the bin and chose the two I had the dime to pay for and checked out as quickly as possible. Back then receipts weren't always given out for such small purchases. I went on to class and was glad I hadn't stole the candy after all. Well the kicker is I was asked by a classmate to see my purse as she thought it was pretty. I willingly handed it over and she promptly opened it and looked inside. Yes she saw two candy bars. No she didn't know I paid for them. No she didn't know I had the stealing bug scared right out of me to never return. It wasn't long before I heard comments as I was walking to change classes. That's the girl that stole that candy from the store with a finger pointing at me. Whether it was in the hallway or going up or down the stairs, I often heard it. It was like a phrase that caught on and spread like wild fire. I was branded a thief and it hurt me to my core knowing I had almost broke one of God's commandments. None of the people that were pointing fingers ever found out that it was not true what they had spread around school about me. As I was raising my children it seemed to be the custom for mothers to allow their children to open a package and eat from it while they were shopping. I taught my children that we must pay for it first they we may eat it. It was my duty to my children to make sure they had their nutritional and hydrational needs met before I walked through the door to the store. Anywhoo, as a child growing up we were taught that if we think it we were just as guilty as if we did it. In my heart I was guilty and so I never attempted to straighten the stolen candy bars misinformation with any of my accusers. They wouldn't have believed me anyway. We were so Poor that all the stigma that goes with being so poor that you're pore was always considered to be the truth even when it wasn't. We were told to accept what was given and never ask for anything. Well sir I never asked for all those whippings but that didn't mean I was going to be lucky enough to get out of getting one. Perhaps next time I will write about the strawberry trips in spring time. Until then I leave you with Just This...Alice

A Christmas tree and a whipping

We didn't have Christmas when I was growing up on the farm. We were beyond poor for that luxury. Although we had food we grew and slaughtered there was no extras so to speak. As I was attending school and around Christmas time, I would hear the most interesting stories of a man named Santa that came and left all kinds of gifts under your Christmas tree if you had been a good boy or girl. I knew we were kept in line so I was thinking it must be we didn't have a tree for him to put gifts under so he didn't stop there. Well I think I was in about second grade that I decided I would be the one to go get that tree out of the back field, which was about a mile walk there and back to the house. I had spied it growing on our fence line while working in the field. I went out to the corn crib and got the hatchet and meandered my way back to the fence row to get that tree. Along the way I was daydreaming of all the possibilities of waking up on Christmas morning seeing presents under it and how excited my brothers and sisters would be to wake up to what I just knew we would have come Christmas morning. When I arrived at the appointed tree, I observed it and wondered how in the world was I going to chop that thing down with just a hatchet. Being the good man my father was he kept all the tools very sharp ready for use. As I pondered the best approach, it came to me that I needed help with the task. So I knelt down right there and prayed for God's help to get that tree for my family. As I stood up it came to me to chop off a few of the lower branches so I would have a better chopping work area. Now understand growing up on a farm back in those days,we young children learned early on how to use tools without getting hurt. I thought of all the things I had learned about not hurting myself and went to work. I chopped my wedge for the proper fall line and started on the other side. I chopped and chopped and chopped some more. That tree must have been about ten feet tall and had a big trunk. I wasn't worried about the tree being too tall because we didn't have a ceiling nailed to the rafters so it could fit anyway even if it went right on to the tin roof. I learned early on to think of things and keep my mind occupied so my tasks didn't seem so hard for me. I had all the ideas of how we were going to be the luckiest kids to finally have that man Santa bring us toys. Oh the daydreaming I did while chopping down that tree. It started to fall in the right direction and I ran the other way like I had been taught. Cotton pickin it that thing laid there still attached to the stump. I decided if I was taking that thing home it would have to be chopped some more. I knew it was laying the right way and I wasn't going to get hurt so I chopped and a little at a time the outer bark and trunk peeled away. It wasn't long then til it gave way and plopped to the ground. Oh my, I was so proud of myself, not realizing I faced another dilema. I was going to have to drag that big thing back home by myself. I recalled how Pa had taught us to hook our arm around a branch of a limb to drag it to the pile for getting little pieces for starting fires. Ha! it worked I thought as I started walking with it dragging behind me.I looked toward the house and it sure did seem a long way away. Another thing we were taught was to sing when a task seemed too hard to do was sing. So little miss myself started singing and sang her way right up to the house. I opened the gate and drug that tree right onto the front porch. I got a foot tub and filled it with rocks around the trunk of the tree but it wouldn't stand up straighe. Use your brain was another thing we were told to do growing up so I thought about what might help it stand up tall and straight. Dirt! That's what it was in when I went and got it. So I started adding dirt one can at a time till I filled that foot tub of rocks and tree full. It worked. I was so excited and wondered how I was going to decorate it now. We didn't have anything to put on a tree. I had just learned at school how to make an Angel out of two kleenex so I went inside and got the box of kleenex and then out to the pack house where we removed the tobacco from the sticks to take to the market and got a bunch of discarded tobacco string. I took two tissues and balled up the first one then laid the second one centered over that one. That made the head. I tied the string just under that and left enough attached for hanging it on the tree. Oh my that was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I made a bunch of those angels and put them all over that tree. There were no lights or anything else but just a tree of Angels. The contrast of white and green was spectacular to my little mind. I started dragging and pushing that foot tub which was by now so heavy I could hardly move it. So put your shoulder to the wheel came to mind and I got down on the floor and put my right shoulder against the foot tub and started pushing and low and behold it worked. It only moved a few inches at a time but I got it to the door. Hmmmm, I hadn't considered how I would get it over the threshold so another dilema. I pushed and pulled and grunted and tooted my horn and just about everything else known to man to get that thing in the house. All this actyivity finally got the attention of my mother who had been in the kitchen cooking supper. The kitchen door opened and the next thing I knew I was getting a thrashing with some unkind words about getting that.... thing out of her house. I got a whipping for my trouble/reward for trying to get the rest of the kids and myself something for Christmas is how I saw it. But I didn't take into consideration that I had used her box of kleenex and now she had nothing to wipe runny noses with. So I was directed to take my beautiful Angels off the tree and put them back in the box the way they came. With tears streaming down my face I did what I was told and then had to take the tree out to the burn pile and throw it on it. I was so crushed and knew that the Santa Claus would never come to our house now ever. But I was wrong. When my youngest sister got old enough there was a tree with lights and ornaments all over it and on Christmas morning there were presents to only her from Santa. My parents couldn't do for all of us what they did for her as the last child. For some reason that seemed to be what happened in a lot of families around us. We children didn't understand but it seemed to be the thing to do and it became what happened with my youngest brother who was named after my dad and the youngest daughter/last child. The moral of this story is when I grew up and had children of my own, there was always a Christmas tree and presents from Santa in my house. We would read the Christmas story by candle light and then I would tuck them in and get to work making magic happen in the night. Oh the tears of joy each and every Christmas morning while they were growing up to watch them experience what I never got to experiende in my lifetime. Every child deserves to experience the joy of waking up Christmas morning to have a gift under a Christmas tree. I may have stayed up til four in the morning a lot of nights sewing dolls and stuff for my three girls to compensate what I had spent for my son. I had no idea of what I could make for him. I may have been a single mom and didn't have much money but the magic happened for those four children after they went to bed. To this day I love Christmas and having a decorated tree and yard. There may not be any presents under the tree from Santa to give me joy but in my heart I feel the love of Jesus Christ when I wake up on Christmas morning. Perhaps we'll expand on lining up to getting our medicine next time. Until then I leave you with Just This...Alice

Founded on Strength

Since I wrote that my brother passed away, there have been three more deaths (two from old age and one from an auto accident). My brothers' wide, a friend, and one of my first cousins. Last month and the first week of this month have just sapped me of my mental and emotional strength. However I know that no more is put on me than what I can bear. My faith keeps me going.
My youngest daughter comes over often and she and I worked on the Christmas decorations for outside judging this week. The first day right after we finished putting the snow people out in the yard,my daughter had to pick up her little one from Pre K,run a couple of errands and then pick up her son from school. We have early release on the first Wednesday of the month here. I had to lie down for awhile as my legs swell so badly. Anyway when she got back she asked me about the rain we had while she was gone. I, of course had to ask what rain. She had bad news, our snow people we had worked so hard on were crying colored tears that came from the paper we used for their hats. Today made the third day we worked on it thinking the judging will be tonight. This afternoon a note was slipped through the door from the office telling us all that a mistake was made by the publishing company about the day of judging. It won't be til the 19Th. Since my daughter picked up the only artificial snow blankets for me while doing those errands, I am hoping it doesn't rain. Because they are only intended for indoor use. Ha!Ha! on me.
I have also had to be some kind of sneaky around my daughter as my other two daughters and a friend are giving her an expecting TWINS shower and I am helping them by crafting and artwork for the event. I do have a big mess in my dining room and living room right now after all this decorating and crafting stuff. So it is my first priority to clean it all up this weekend and before next Saturday.
I was able to get my gift exchange partners gift I made her in the mail only 2 days late. This is something I look forward to since I started participating.
If I had one wish for Christmas fulfilled it would be to get a book with tutorials about blogging and adding pictures and making it look better. I'm so sorry I suck at blogging. Well like Pa always used to say wish in one hand and spit in the other one and see which one gets filled up first.
If I am able to get back on here before Christmas I'll tell you about my episode with a live in the ground still Christmas tree when I was about 10. Until then I leave you with Just This...Alice

Stumbling along

There are times when we seem to want to block out the world around us and try to get ourselves together again. 2 years ago I lost a sister and this year I lost my oldest brother. They were both a little older than I am yet it seems too soon for them to go to a heavenly home. I miss them tremendously and look back on some of the greatest times of my life with them. I've never been one to wallow in self pity and won't start now. I have mourned the loss and now I am going to step forward into trying to become a better person for having them in my life for the 60+ years I've lived.I was lucky to have children and grandchildren and enjoy the times I spend with them.
I do wish I knew how to make this a better blog and show you all how I've made some of the things I make. Perhaps there will be directions somewhere I can make a copy of to have handy to help me. Until then it will remain story time of my youth on the farm.
One Saturday when Mama and Daddy took the tractor and trailer to town to get supplies, we children were to shuck and shell corn for the animals. We had a big wooden box with a metal thing that an ear of corn went through as we turned the habdle to remove the kernals from the corncob. Everyone was doing the chore as directed to begin with but some soon lost interest in such a mundane task. We took a water break and went up to the house and drank from the spigot o. My older brother thought it would be fun to slide down the metal that made up our roof on the house. There was some conversation about what we were supposed to be doing out at the corn crib but he was already on teh roof and sliding down then landing on the ground. It seemed to be fun so everyone participated for awhile, then some went on to another form of playing. After my first attempt sliding down onto the ground landed me on my bottom and it didn't feel very pleasant at all. Little did we know the danger of our folly. At that point I dicided I would return to the job of selling corn again because I didn't want to get caught doing something other than what we were told to when our parents left. I tried to encourage everyone to return to our chor but no one would go with me. I continued shelling corn and soon heard the tractor from way off. I called for the rest of them to come on out to the corn crib and get to work because I heard the tractor. They all laughed at me and responded with you shell the corn if you want we've got plenty of time to play til they get back. As I continued shelling corn I soon saw the tractor pass on the road heading to the house. Eagle eye Daddy saw the horseplay and when the kids saw the tractor turn into the driveway they all ran to the corn crib pretending they were working as told to prior to our parents leaving on the shopping trip. I knew what was comming next. After our parents took everything into the house and Daddy put the tractor in its spot, we were all called to the house. I commented to my brothers and sisters that they should have listened to me and we wouldn't be going to get a whipping. Sure enough Daddy told us to line up to get our medicine and the whippings began. When it was my turn, I looked at him and said I was trying to shell the corn. He said: "I don't want you I want Joyce" I waited for my turn and it never came. He told me that it looked like I was the only one working when they drove by the corn crib so I wouldn't get a whipping. For once I wouldn't have the stripes on my back and all the way down my legs from a whipping. Those things were brutal and something to fear.
Until next time I leave you with Just This...Alice

Family Reunion

Today I attended our family reunion and had a good time. Delicious food, good conversation, catching up on family news, thinking about those who didn't make it this year and those we lost since last year.

I got up early and put my ham in the oven to bake. I cooked collards and cornbread to go with it. I had intended to bake rolls but didn't take them out of the freezer in time to thaw. So much for a short cut I took the other day. They'll be there for the next time I need some. I didn't make any dessert but there was plenty without a banana pudding or peach cobbler. Tonight I will have my most favorite comfort food ever. Cornbread and milk. I crumble up some cornbread in a cereal bowl and pour some 1% milk over it then spoon full by spoon full I taste pure sweet memories of going to town on the mule and wagon to have the corn we planted, hoed out the weeds, fertilized, harvested from the stalks and put in piles. Then my Dad would come along with the mule and sled and we would fill it up and keep picking the corn off the stalks and piling it up for his next trip. It was taken to the corn crib and piled on one side of the wall dividing the corn crib into two spaces. After the corn was all harvested and stored for the winter we would shuck and shell what we needed as we needed it. For the chickens we would usually shell it right off the cob and scatter it about the chicken yard. For the hogs we would shell it and then soak it for them to eat for a treat. most of the time they ate it without soaking. The cows took care of the stalks left in the field for their winter grazing. When it came to food for us, we would load up shelled corn on the wagon. Yellow corn was for cornbread and white corn was for grits. Off we would go to town around to Mr. Box's Grist mill. It was so fascinating to watch those two wheels grind that corn into little specks. When it was all ground Pa and Mr. Box would come to an agreement as to Mr. Box's share of meal and grits for grinding the corn for us. Off we would go in the mule and wagon headed back home. But on occasion we would stop off and Mr. Howland's store, which was more like a shack back then, and we were given a nickle to get some candy, an ice cream cone, or a candy bar. Yes that is all that stuff cost way back then. Part of the ride home was mostly silent with each of us intent on what we were eating. We didn't care that automobiles were speeding around us, we'd just throw up our free hand and wave. Not realizing that we were way behind the times in the mid to late 1950's it never crossed our minds that they were making fun of us and that was what all their laughter and shouts was about. We would make it home in time to do the evening chores while Pa put the corn meal and grits in their containers. Fresh ground corn meal was made into cornbread for our supper and what a supper we would have. Southern women know how to cook like no other when it comes to hospitality cooking. At least two meats and sometimes three. Several vegetables like green beans, butter beans, peas, greens, squash or even okra. Always cornbread and sometimes biscuits. My goodness what a feast we would have when company came. And we had company that evening. We liked to have company as the adults would sit around and talk and we children would get to play after supper and the dishes were done and put away.

Pardon me but it is 6:35 and I am off to have my cornbread and milk. So til next time I leave you with Just This...Alice

I have been grilled

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Won't accept the link says it is broken so we'll try this instead.

I wasn't successful in putting the badge to the side so here it sits.
It's good to be grilled by Grandma's Briefs and I love her blog which is seperate from her grilling but accessable on the page.. You may want to check her out for some fun posts.

Yesterday I set out to pick up some fabric yard to make a rug I found on free cycle. I git to within three miles and my tracker broke down. It was only a few minutes and a couple knowledgable in auto mechanics stopped. Then another vehicle stopped and offered the use of a cell phone for calling a family member. The Lord sure was good to me as the man checked out the tracker he found the problem, my altinator was no longer working. They charged up my battery for about 30 minutes and told us that when that went out to try charging again to get it home to my brother's house. It only lasted for me to go a few feet down the road and them cut off again. Well my brother was looking for something in his truck and a dog came up to him and scared him so that he shooed him away and ended up shutting the door on his thumb. OUCH! I saw that happen and felt so bad. Here he was trying to help me and ended up getting hurt. He called my other brother who just happened to be on vacation this week and he came in his big truck with a chain and hooked right up to my tracker and pulled us to the house about 5 miles away. I don't know if any of you have ever had to be towed this way but if so you knopw how hard it is to steer and use the brakes. I almost kissed the back end of that big truck 3 or 4 times. I was scared stiff throughout the journey to his house. I am so blessed to have 2 brothers that are willing to help someone out in need of assistance. The younger brother took off the old altinator and took it to Auto Zone, used my debit card without any problems at all (my daughter had a world of trouble and it got froze when she took my package to the post office last Monday), and brought back a new one and put it on. Tracker started right up and this morning after my oldest brother took his wife to the hospital for routine tests they stopped by my apartment and got me to go get my tracker. After visiting for a little bit I got in and that little darling started right up for me too and I was on my way. Thank you Lord for putting the people I needed in the places they were so I got the help I needed. If there is anyone out there having vehicle trouble I pray that they receive help just as I did so they are not left in this heat very long. May we all be an angel to someone in need this way. Until next time I leave you with Just This...Alice

Happy Birthday America! God Bless You and me.

Americans sing Let Freedom Ring while celebrating is what it is all about.
For those who lived, fought, and lost their life for us I thank you. For their families, I am sorry for your loss.
May we all remember the principles this country was built on and who is at the head. May God continue blessing us and remain at the head and in all we do as a country.
Men may fail but God does not so in him I put my trust.
Though I am disabled I can still stand long enough to say the pledge to the flag. I don't understand why others that can don't or won't.
I say that pledge for what it represents and not for any other group like or dislike.
We are Americans born here while some chose to move here legally or not.
As a guest in another country I respect their culture and language and never try to change it.
I hope others would respect our country and way of life and don't try to change it.
Of all the countries in the world I feel this is the best for me to call home.
May we all treat each other with kindness and respect. May we all work toward one common goal. May we all be truthful and stop trying to take advantage of others. May we be loving and giving and strive for the good of all mankind. May we give freely to our own in our own country first.
It really saddens me to see what I was told end up not being true after all. When someone in another country has better household furnishings than I do will not receive a donation from me. Yes I do have compassion and empathy but I also have eyes to see that I was mislead. I have in my life time pumped water from a hand pump, drank from a pond of water or a river. I have worked in the fields like a slave yet I was not labeled one. I went without shoes and walked just fine, perhaps some laughed at me but I still walked. I didn't have all the fine dining food that many had but I still ate when it was meal time. Hard work planting,hoeing the weeds out, harvesting, and preserving the food and animals for winter got us through. My clothes were patched but they were very clean as I was adept at using a scrub board.
We rode in a mule drawn wagon to get about followed by a tractor and trailer when money was made to purchase a used one. We often did our homework by kerosene lights. We had a roof over our heads and it may not have had the beauty of others homes but it kept us dry. We didn't have indoor plumbing so it was a long walk to the out house instead just down the hall. It was a hard life but I made it through the hard times with an appreciation for the good times like no other. People back then used the golden rule and said Yes sir and No mam when asked a question. We need to bring back the respect for others that was lost when society deemed it necessary for mothers to go to work. Children do not learn at most day cares. I worked at one and tried my best but it just wasn't there. But the checks from the government were put to good use by the owners. Children are not the same away from home that parents think they are. I once worked at a bowling where many parents dropped off their children and then went to the next town and partied because we have a dry county. The sad thing about that is that some left their children there and didn't come back to get them when we closed. Workers gave many children rides home after working til two and three in the morning after working a day job. As a single mom with four children after two divorces, I did my best to take care of my children and spend time with them. All four of them graduated high school and two of them did it with honors. One graduated college and is a teacher. I had a motto that one excuse was as good as another when it came to whining about how hard it was to take care of my little family.
I tell you this because in my opinion people quit trying after being downtrodden and robbed of their dignity for so long. I just wish all the executives and CEO's would have to live the life of a few of us and then see if they would be so all fired selfish with their pocket books and wallets here in OUR country. I feel we should take care of our own first. GREED has came calling for its due and it will be a sad situation for many. How many have used what God has provided, with the titles they have to earn big money, to help those in genuine need here in our own country. How many have misused the charities they have established for its true purpose instead of ten cents of a dollar going to the needy it should be ninety per cent going to the needy with ten percent going to those running it. I am sad to know that so many people have been duped into giving so much money thinking they are helping someone in need and they are just giving money away to some glorified panhandler that made it off the street into a fine office. I would ask the American people to research before giving your money away as it might not be going where you think it is. Personally I prefer to find a local family who I can see is in need and help them when I am able. WAKE UP AMERICA and take care of America first. If a country is in need in a disaster help is definitely warranted. We have been in our own disasters yet I haven't seen or heard of other countries helping us. If they have and the media has with held that bit of information from us I would wonder why. Too much power has been given to too many people and it is destroying us all with a greed for more.
This is how our country stands today. A leader who will not pledge allegiance to our country's flag and blatantly so. Too many hands in the till and emptying it out quickly. Lies being spread by the media telling us only a small part of what is really happening around the world. Our men and women are giving their all to help protect this country and when they come home to what when they need our help. That should be the top charity we have for those who served and risked their lives for a country they call home. Those families who loose a member of the military should be compensated for the loss of that life as it was given freely while doing a job for the USA.
I simply can not understand how the drug companies have been given so much leeway that they are killing people with bad drugs given as medication to help heal. that's for another time. I'm tired and ready for a nap and as I don't get much sleep I try to get it when I can.
My oldest daughter was born on this country's bicentennial birthday and I want to wish her a very Happy Birthday also. Happy Birthday Airalisha. 35 years ago I welcomed a sweet little baby girl early then almost lost her because they didn't think she was early because of her birth weight. I just had big babies is all. We just don't know what we think we know sometimes. Until next time I leave you with Just This...Alice