Wednesday, November 25, 2009


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They're coming to take me away ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-haaa, to the funny farm where life is...... Hey, wait a minute, hold the presses! I already live on the funny farm. It's called the Ponderosa where the lush winter wheat field radiates a brilliant emerald green. Where well fed cattle graze and happily chew their cud. A land where the birds sing melodies that fill the Ozarks air and one can hear Chalky the donkey braying for a juicy afternoon treat. Ahhh, this is a land where things seldom go as planned. It's a world that could drive a Type-A obsessively organized farm chick totally mad going completely berserk.

I spent last week on my hands and knees vacuuming every thick carpet fiber. Every nook and cranny of overstuffed furniture was sucked dry of any dust particles so completely the dust mites have vacated the premises and are shopping for new dwellings. I have emptied the dirty gatherings on my utility room floor and gone through every blessed dusty speck. The ashes of the fire place have been examined as thoroughly as a CSI investigation. My car has had the same treatment. I searched through trash, Walmart bags and yes even the peanut butter. Yep, this chick loves her Jiff. The local health food store even gave me their dirt to examine. Nasty!!! Bet ya'll are thinkin' this is some strange behavior even for Nezzy. Well, I lost the diamond out of my wedding ring a week ago. It just ripped my heart out because it IS my wedding ring. I have wasted a week digging, searching and turning my knees into hamburger to no avail when I needed to be working on Thanksgiving and packing for the trip to south Texas.

Saturday I had the day planned. I would clean the house (I know, but my name is Nezzy~I need help!) copy and put together next quarters curriculum for Kids Church which I had to be distributed to my helpers Sunday. I'd make the thorn arrangement Pastor had requested for his Sunday sermon and make a huge batch of dressing for the Thanksgiving banquet after services Sunday. My Sunday School lesson would be put together and I would study for Kids Church. Somewhere in here I'd wash my hair and do my nails. Diamond hunting through the week had left little time to do such trivial tasks.

Saturday morn came and Hubby thought it would be an excellent day to vaccinate the cattle that escaped last time and castrate the young bulls. When the wild eyed cattle were rounded~up we poked, cut and wormed the over sized bovine followed by the Great American Cattle Drive down the road to greener pastures. Most the cattle were perfect trailblazers but there are always a few who delight in running though or jumpin' over fences like crazed Olympians. After all trophys were awarded for the highest jumper and the fastest runner, Hubby wanted to go to a nearby town to pick up our new car. Flying to the house faster than a squirrel with a jet pack, I commenced to scrub the manure smell off,twist my hair in a cute little french knot and toss on some make-up. Ya'll know I'm not going anywhere without my makeup! I returned home and kicked myself into high gear. Working like an ant after hearing a winter storm forecast every task above was completed. WooHoo! Does this chick know how to get-er-done, or what? Nothing wrong with me except I'm still amazed how the heck I managed to put the cheese in the hamper. Yes, I did!

Sunday came early and so did my Sunday School class. Kids Church was a blast but I'm always exhausted by the time it's over. The Thanksgiving banquet was delicious and the fellowship even better. I washed the dishes as others helped with clean up and we came home. Day of rest, day of rest, day of rest, right? Oh, Lord I'm sorry but it was warm and I wanted to get a coat of wax on the car before it hit the salty corrosive air of Brownsville, so I waxed the car.

I'm going nuts. My push for perfection and attention to details have me overwhelmed. My day, hourly and minute plans have gone out the window like a bird freaked by a pouncing cat. Forget the fact that our very large Thanksgiving celebration is tomorrow. Forget the packing is not completed nor is the food ready. Here I sit blogging like I have nothing else to do. Why you ask? Because I want to wish you all a wonderful Thanksgiving with your families. I want to tell ya'll to enjoy all the love that surrounds you so much that your lap may never be empty. I wanted to tell you that before those nice young men in their clean white coats take me to the happy home with trees and flowers and chirping birds and basket weavers as the 1966 song of Napoleon XIV goes. I will be in the Texas gulf for a week an will see ya'll when I get back. 'Just wanted to say all that because I fear "THEY'RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY"

Monday, November 16, 2009


Toilet paper in a four roll pack could be purchased for five pennies. A can of Campbell's tomato soup was a mere dime and a ten pound bag of potatoes brought a whopping thirty~five cents. It was a time when a housewife could fill a grocery bag with three cans of cream corn for thirty eight cents, a loaf of bread for twelve cents and treat the family to a T-bone steak for fifty nine cents a pound. Tunes such a "Hey, Good Lookin," "Unforgettable" and the theme to "I Love Lucy" were blaring from Thunderbird convertibles. George Burns and Gracie Allen were burning up the airways along with "Whats my Line" and the "Jack Benny show." Harry S. Truman was President and the United Nations had just opened in New York City. John Hustons dramatic film "The African Queen" staring Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn premiered in Hollywood. The year was 1951 and their song was" Mona Lisa".

Country mouse meets city mouse. He was stationed on the Sandia Army Base in Albuquerque, New Mexico as a Military Policeman. She worked at a local movie theater where she had once told John Wayne over the phone, "Ya, right and I'm Marylin Monroe!" She couldn't get the paint out of her hair from painting their new apartment and he couldn't wait to make her his bride. The wedding would be a simple home ceremony with close family and a few friends.

November 14, 1951 at 7:30 in the evening my mother and father exchanged their wedding vows. Mom wasn't going to let a little paint in her hair ruin her day. Dad had less than twenty-four hours before he had to report back to duty. They told everybody they were going to Santa Fe to honeymoon. Oh, that would have been so lovely but time would not allow such a luxurious trip. Ain't nothing worse than a bunch of MP's barging in on a couple 'cause the grooms gone AWOL, so they stopped at a little Podunk town with a Podunk motel and well.... let's just say there was no honeymoon suite available. 'Nuff said. Dad was back on base in time and what did Mom do on her second night of wedded bliss? Can you say slumber party? Her best friend Emma and some other chicks spent the night at her newly painted apartment gabbin' and gassin' as gals do when they get together. Mom and Dad lived in that little apartment until Dad was discharged from the Army about a year later and the Missouri move was on.

Poor Mama moved from the city where water ran freely from faucets and one could use inside facilities. The town was a small rural community with population less than 300. The farm house was a large two story home with electricity but no running water. The bathroom facilities consisted of a two seater outhouse tucked behind two large lilac bushes. Mom was a duck out of water, a chick out of her element. She was moved to a land which spoke a foreign language. Words like county-pin meant bedspread and a safe was a cupboard used to store flour and dishes. When my grandmother announced she needed to go to the closet my mother watched as Grannie walked out of the house and beyond the front porch. Mom's curiosity was quenched when she discovered the word closet meant outhouse. Who knew?

My uncle came to help Dad put screens on the house and Mom was in charge of preparing the meal. Dad asked mom if she would fry a chicken for them. Not knowing what was to come next Mom answered," sure!" Dad went outside ran down a chicken, rang it's neck, beheaded it, plucked it and slapped its naked body on the table saying "there ya go" as he walked off leaving Mom in shocking despair. My uncle noticed the citified look on Mom face stating, "ya don't know how to dress a chicken do ya?" He then proceeded to teach Mom the ways of the Ozarks and cut the critter up for her. Moms first attempt to help with cattle was during a loading event. Dad placed Mom in a space by the loading chute and told her just to stand there and the cattle would go obediently in. Ya right, if you work with cattle ya know they seldom do what their suppose to. Dad headed the cattle toward Mom. Now if your a city gal and you have a herd of cattle runnin' right at you , what's a city girl gonna do? Of course she's gonna let out the loudest bloodcurdling scream from the deepest depths of her lungs and jump right up in the middle of the hood of Hubby's truck. This granted abundant amusement and entertainment to all the in-laws.

Fifty eight years ago my parents married. I was born in 1952 exactly ten months later. In 1960 I was blessed with a sister , a real live doll to play with. Mom eased her way into country life embracing many years on the farm where she could cut up a chicken faster than her butcher in Albuquerque. My parents have since moved to Brownsville, Texas where Dad will never have to feed cattle in the snow and ice again. Soon after Thanksgiving we will be making the trip to see them leaving the Ponderosa behind where I moved after my "Aba-Daba Honeymoon." Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!!!
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Saturday, November 7, 2009


Sarai is the original name in Hebrew from which the name Sarah sprang forth. It means princess. Grace is Latin meaning a favored blessing, a virtue name referring to God's grace. This precocious perfect princess just had her forth birthday. Sarah Grace is simply a bubbling broth of personality charming anyone who crosses her path. Ya just look into those big browns and melt like a Popsicle on a humid summer day. {SIGH}

She delights in coloring, loves books and is curious about everything. Our favored blessing is an avid helper and is always right on the spot to offer assistance. Although she is totally different from her big sister Honor, she wants to be just like her. That 'Gracie'(as we call Miss Sara) girl is meltdown cute and knows how to work it.

During Honors birthday party Sara had anyone who would listen trying to help her find her beautiful fairy dress. Guests were lead into her bedroom to search her closet, under her bed and in her toys until her mother announced that 'Gracie did not own said beautiful fairy dress. ' This rockin' grandmas light bulb lit up like a Christmas tree with the perfect birthday present for this enchanted child, a beautiful fairy dress! An inquisitive adult guest then asked the question, "Sara what color will your fairy dress be?" "PINK, I want my fairy dress to be pink," the wide eyed child replied. OK, a beautiful pink fairy dress, how hard can that be? I want to stop right now and personally thank the guest who posed the color question to Sarah, it made my life extremely interesting the next few weeks. I found beautiful fairy dresses 'Gracie's' size in soft heavenly white, fluffy frilly yellows and a most beautiful misty green winged frock I'd ever laid eyes on. The search wasn't easy but with great determination a beautiful pink fairy dress was in the bag. Yep, grandma got'er done.

My son told me this story the other day. All four children were hopping around the house as bunnies. It really doesn't take much to entertain us down here in the Ozarks. Brother Joel raised up with an " arrrrrrrr" swatting the air with his bunny claws. My son states, "Oh no, we have a rabid~ rabbit in our midst." A couple days later Sarah crawls up in her daddy's lap making a wrinkly face going 'arrrrrr' at her daddy. Son asks, "and.... what are you?" 'Cause one rarely knows around that active animalhousehold. Sarah giggled her little giggle and said, "I'm a bunny~bunny daddy!" That's our Gracie!

Our little favored princess blessing who is full of grace brings our family joy every day. I see that wide faced smile and all I want to do is scoop her up like a big dip of cappuccino chocolate chunk ice cream and cover those pink chubby cheeks with my special noisy grandma kisses. As the Four Tops sang on their Motown single released in 1965, "I Can't Help Myself"...(Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch!!!)
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