The View from Here

Home Sweet Home

I’m not sure I’ll ever recall all the places I lived as a child.  At the request of a teacher my mother made a list of my school attendance up until the eighth grade. I also have some dated photos, report cards, school photos, and documents to verify that we lived in at least nineteen homes in nine towns in three states before moving to Caddo during my first year of high school. And in between moves we were frequent visitors to Oklahoma.

I remember some sort of city apartment where the kitchen was like a closet and I played on the rooftop of the building next door. I remember a row of tiny identical homes plagued by ants. There was a duplex next to a woman who made streusel on her kitchen table and allowed me to babysit her baby son. We lived on a dairy where we often fed calves and mom had a parakeet. We lived in a house in Texas and the woman across the street had a tree filled with cardinals. Another neighbor in a different location had a nine-year-old son who was in high school. A white house behind a bar. Bits and pieces…pictures in my head and memories of encounters that don’t always match the facts and dates from my list.

I sometimes envy people who have lived their whole lives in one or two towns. If they have trouble remembering an event they have family and friends to help them. I do have some family members who can recall family visits and events in Oklahoma more clearly than I can, but none left to remember where we were in California. And I don’t have friends to help me with any memories of my school life before high school. My best friend, who attended school with me in the fifth, seventh, and eighth grades, died of cancer in 1986. So I have to rely on my memory and it often needs a jog.

I suppose what I do or don’t remember isn’t that important. It’s not like I’m attempting to write my biography. But sometimes an object or a smell or someone else’s memory will remind me of something that I can’t quite identify. Maybe if I did write down more of them the memories would eventually connect and all make sense.

At least I can say one thing with absolute certainty…no matter where we lived it always seemed like “home”. My mother took care of me, cooked my meals, made my clothes, and was waiting for me when I got home from school. She sang songs and planted flowers and read books and made me happy. That’s why my memories of home, though somewhat confusing, are still sweet.

The Dangers of Labeling

Okay…this old lady has had it with the latest labeling tirade. Sick and tired of hearing about the “news media” and all of the evils thereof.

I AM the news media.

News media is defined as an umbrella term for all the sources and presentation of news and information, including: TV, radio, newspapers, magazines, web pages and blogs.

I write three blogs. I manage a website. I’ve written for books, newspapers, magazines, newsletters, book jackets, and advertisements. I’ve been on television. I’ve worked for an ad agency, a book publisher, and several print shops. I guess somehow I skipped talking on the radio. In addition to my own experiences I can name at least ten other people in my family who have had their writings published. As many of you already know, my mother, grandmother, and great-grandfather wrote for publication in several newspapers and magazines. I also have friends who currently work in the news media.

So trust me…I AM the news media and I understand the decimation of “news and information” and I resent the daily declaration that everyone in the news media is joined at the brain and intent on duping the public with fake news.

My mother taught me all about fake newspapers at a very early age. She called them “gossip rags” and they were displayed next to the checkout counter at the grocery store. They had front page stories about alien kidnappings, the torrid affairs of movie stars, and the secret lives of freaks and psychos. My mother knew they were filled with nonsense and couldn’t understand why anyone bought them.

I also learned in school that you shouldn’t get all of your information about ANYTHING from ONE source. All of the research papers I wrote from fourth grade to grad school were based on information gleaned from multiple sources.

Each newspaper, television network, and radio station has its own political ideology based on the people who own, manage, and produce it. If you have strong feelings and opinions of your own you’ve probably figured out already that there are some papers and programs you just can’t tolerate.  That doesn’t necessarily mean their news is FAKE; it more than likely just means that their interpretation of the news is different from your own. Ever talk to two people from the same accident scene?

We live in a country that has always valued the rights of citizens to express their own ideas, make their own decisions, and talk or write or sing about them for everyone else to agree with…or NOT. The idea that we suddenly have a massive group of reporters with a coordinated sinister plan to hoodwink the American public is ludicrous, especially when you consider that any ten year old can whip out his phone and Google facts, figures, and photos of nearly any event on the planet.

My dad always warned that if something sounded too good (or too bad) to be true, then I shouldn’t pay attention to it.  I would add that if a news report seems like a hack or a scam or a hoax, then don’t accept it as gospel. If it doesn’t come from a source you have reason to trust, then don’t read it or listen to it or believe it.

Yes, yes, yes we can be fooled by fake news. But that isn’t the fault of the entire news media. I’ve been fooled and hurt by a few pastors, teachers, lawyers, and doctors. Does that mean I can label all of them as mean and deceitful? I think not.

I leave you today with a quote from President James A. Garfield:

“The people are responsible for the character of their Congress. If that body be ignorant, reckless, and corrupt, it is because the people tolerate ignorance, recklessness and corruption.”

Let’s not tolerate labeling and name calling.

Grateful week...

This has been a great week in so many ways.

Of course Monday was my birthday. Tuesday was my brother’s birthday. Today is my best friend’s birthday. Nothing better than a week of celebrating! And an excuse for ice cream…not that I need either.

My birthday always makes me grateful for family and friends. I’ve met so many wonderful people in so many different states, and now social media makes it easier than ever to keep in touch with them.

The weather has been crazy warm and the sunny days have been a wonderful preview of spring. There are flowers and blossoms everywhere! A day with flowers is always better than a day without them, especially if I can look out my kitchen window and see bright yellow daffodils.

We had two good medical reports this week and breathed a sigh of relief over both of them. So grateful for answered prayers. Onward to further improvements.

I completed a couple of interesting writing projects, started two more, and got paid for one I wrote a few months ago. I’m grateful to still be writing, even if I’m not “famous”. I wrote my first short story when I was in the fifth grade and just knew I was going to be a famous novelist. Of course it wasn’t long before I had decided to become a famous architect. LOL

I’ve felt well this week and that is a blessing any time. Went to the gym today and even increased my work-out a bit.

One of the things I’ve been most grateful for this week is being retired. I’m happy, healthy, and busy, busy, busy…but at my own pace.

I pray that you are grateful today for your blessings. I’m grateful for you!

Saints and Sinners...

“Don’t Know Much About the American Presidents” is currently my favorite book. Kenneth C. Davis has a writing style that is easy to read and understand. The presidential biographies are brief but detailed. His book is well organized, and each biography ends with online resources for further study. If you have any interest in American history and/or individual presidents I highly recommend it.

Whether you agree with Mr. Davis’s assessment of each administration or not, it is abundantly clear that none of our presidents, including the “founding fathers” were saints. They were men with agendas and ambitions that weren’t always in the best interests of the citizens they governed. Some had secret personal problems and some had very public problems. They fought with their colleagues, with other states, with other countries, and sometimes with their own conscience. However, each one managed to get elected to the highest office in the land, most stayed in office for at least one term, and some actually helped create a better life for all of us.

In addition to information about the presidents there are wonderful tidbits about the White House itself. I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising that the first presidents used an outhouse or that their home didn’t have heat or hot water. It wasn’t until Polk’s administration that the White House got a ducted heating system. But it’s those details that make all of the stories so fascinating.  

Like a lot of our history there are some things about the early presidents that are difficult to understand. Our first twelve had slaves, sometimes openly and other times in secret. Clashes between slave owners and abolitionists across the country were usually violent and yet the leaders of the land weren’t always the best role models.

I won’t spoil your reading pleasure by telling too many secrets, but I will say that even though I thought I knew the basics about most of the presidents, it turns out that I really didn’t know much.

67 Years

Yes, today is my birthday and I’m so blessed to have the privilege of enjoying another day of health, happiness, and love. This morning I read my favorite Bible passage, l Corinthians 13 and I want to share some of it with you:

Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Have a great day! I plan to…

Fried Chicken

When I was a child Sunday was the day we ate fried chicken. After a week of beans, fried potatoes, macaroni and cheese, bologna, and hamburger “casseroles”, the crispy fried skin and juicy white meat of a chicken was a welcome treat. However…it was also a lot of work. Chickens were not something purchased at the store. They were raised in the yard.

My dad usually killed our Sunday chicken, but Mom was the one responsible for cleaning and cooking it. Of course that meant plucking the feathers, cutting off the feet, removing the insides, and cutting up the parts to be cooked.

I don’t recall when I first learned to pluck the feathers from a chicken, but I do remember standing on a chair so that I could watch mother’s hands. She was quick and efficient. Most people don’t realize that a chicken has to be plunged into scalding hot water before the feathers can be removed. So the task can be dangerous and uncomfortable if not done correctly. And of course it’s quite tedious. Chickens have lots of feathers!

Next the bird had to be gutted. I’ll spare you the details, but needless to say it can be quite a messy task. And we won’t even discuss the smell! Once all the extra parts were gone the bird was washed and refrigerated. Mom usually waited until she was ready to cook a chicken before she cut it into parts. And it took several lessons before I was proficient at it.

After I married I became a lazy cook. I bought whole chickens at the supermarket and cut them up for Sunday dinner. Of course by then my grandmother and mother were doing the same. Dad occasionally complained about not having a “fresh” chicken, but his complaints were unanimously ignored.

After we had children I opted for packaged parts, usually thighs or legs because they were cheap. Only special occasions warranted chicken breasts. My grandmother, living alone, usually ate her Sunday fried chicken from a metal tray cooked in the oven. The “TV dinner” was one of the mainstays of her diet. However, “chicken in a bucket” was her choice anytime she had company. The colonel was one of her favorite people!

Nowadays I doubt there are many people who kill their own chickens for the Sunday table. I know several women who have never cut up a whole chicken. I’ve even encountered children who don’t know that chickens have bones. They’ve never eaten anything except chicken “nuggets”! I’m not sure that a nugget qualifies as real chicken, or even real food.

You may also wonder if the gigantic chickens we see today are real, but contrary to popular fears, the use of hormones is banned in poultry. It’s actually selective breeding that has given us the huge birds. The average chicken raised in the fifties only weighed two pounds, while modern chickens may weigh up to nine pounds. The industry says there is nothing to fear from a bigger, better product. Still, I have my own concerns about diseases, antibiotics, processing, etc.

If your Sunday chicken came from a restaurant you should probably do a quick Google search so you can be shocked and amazed by how much salt and fat you unknowingly consumed. I checked the nutrition facts for a fried chicken breast and found calorie counts ranging from 320 to 560, fat from 16 to 37g, and sodium from 840 to 1,100. I know Mom fried her chicken in Crisco, but I don’t think she rolled it in salt first!

We talk a lot about changes in culture and advances in technology, but it occurs to me that the chicken on our plates today is also evidence of the evolution of our lifestyles…from necessary self-reliance to convenience at any cost, even our own health.

Restoration

There is one place that restores the peace and joy that sometime eludes my soul.

Outside…

where the angry voices of the world are replaced by the singing of birds.

where the chaos of dissension and indecision can be set aside for a few hours.

where the shame of sinful men is not flaunted on a screen for all the world to see.

where the beauty and order and power of the natural world can be explored and admired.

I have been blessed to live near the ocean, in the middle of an immense desert, in the shadow of our tallest mountain, in the heart of a vast prairie, and amid thousands of acres of farm land. Even when I endured years in the city there were always parks and fields and gardens nearby. And since my earliest childhood I have always been attracted to the soil, the grass, the trees…especially the trees.

Outside is my happy place.

So yesterday Gary and I escaped to the woods. We enjoyed the warm weather, the sights and sounds of the birds, the signs of impending spring, and the challenge of walking the trails. Both of us have had some health problems lately and the satisfaction of not just enduring but enjoying the walk was rewarding. We returned to our home refreshed and restored.

My prayer today is that you will be able to do the same.

There will be terrible times ahead for America, times of trials and tribulation. But Jesus said, “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”

Find your happy place. Pray and be restored to peace.

Nothing else matters...

The morning news reports are filled with images of last night’s Grammy awards.

In a few minutes we’ll hear about the latest political debate.

That will be followed by sports, weather, and the rest of the trivial pursuits that occupy our minds each day.

None of it really matters.

The only thing that does matter is that I’m sitting here breathing, listening, and watching. I understand what the reporter is saying. I can tell Gary about it when he wakes up. I can drink my coffee and walk to the kitchen to get more.

Pretty clothes and smooth skin and shiny hair make great selfies, but as I approach 67 (next week) I don’t really care what you see when you look at me…I care that I can see you.

I wish I was thinner and I’m working, albeit slowly, on making that happen…but in the meantime I’m just thankful that this body is still working. I foresee a time, perhaps sooner than I would like, when it won’t.

Yesterday I posted on FB that I woke up and anything else was a “bonus blessing”. I don’t think most people understand how truly and fully I believe that. Perhaps because I’m experiencing increasing pain levels and having more difficulty walking, or perhaps because Gary has to have an MRI tomorrow to diagnose another health problem, I finally understand that the health of this earthly temple is the most important factor in determining the quality of my daily life.

I know you’re thinking that you’re young and strong and still have a few more years to “eat, drink, and be merry” before you worry about aging and health problems. Maybe, maybe not…

I would tell you to stop eating junk food, drinking poison, and losing sleep to pursue more money. I could tell you to stop wasting your money on beauty products and your time on entertainment…but I know you won’t listen to me, any more than I listened to my mother. So I will pray that you make those decisions for yourself.

If the brick and mortar house we call home is destroyed by time or fire or tornado we can move into another one, but we only get one home made of flesh and blood. Now that I have fewer years ahead of me than behind me I know that I should have taken better care of my body, and I thank God for overlooking my mistakes and allowing me to enjoy life anyway.

In the words of John to Gaius, ^“Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers.” Nothing else in this life really matters.

The Promise of Spring...

The weather in Oklahoma is notoriously erratic, especially in the spring. Will Rogers once quipped, "If you don't like the weather in Oklahoma, wait a minute and it'll change." That is true year round, but our spring weather is usually a combination of sunny days bordering on hot and icy days that threaten to kill all of our hopes for an early garden. And of course the wind can be refreshing or totally destructive. Although we are now plagued by daily earthquakes, it is still the threat of tornadoes that is forever linked to our state’s reputation.

Yesterday our local temperature reached 75 degrees; predictions for the rest of the week range from 55 to 80. The temptation is to start gardening…plant some seeds, put the potted plants back on the porch, buy bedding plants. But I hear my grandfather’s words in my head, “Don’t plant anything until after St. Patrick’s Day”. So I’ll continue to be patient even though my daffodils are blooming. The promise of spring is evident, but winter hasn’t finished its reign.

Things I Didn't Know...

They say that learning new things is good for brains, especially old brains, so I make an effort to keep mine supplied with new words, facts, and ideas to ponder. It keeps me busy, and mostly out of trouble. My mother always said that was important.

I recently signed up for a “word of the day” email from Dictionary.com and learned that ataraxia is a “state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety”. We certainly need that word if we are to survive the daily onslaught of emotional disturbance created by our new administration.  And bonzer is an Australian expression meaning “wonderful”. I hope you have a bonzer day!

I also spent one of my holiday gift cards on another “Don’t Know Much” book by Kenneth C. Davis. I read a library copy of Don’t Know Much About History, but after reading Don’t Know Much About the Bible, I bought a copy and have read it twice. My purchase this weekend was Don’t Know Much About the American Presidents. It’s a fascinating look at why we have a president, how we elect one, the powers of the executive branch, and the terms of each former president. All of them were a combination of saint and sinner, leader and puppet, and most accomplished things that were only appreciated in retrospect.

I’ve been researching Caddo’s history for twenty years so I’m a bit startled when I learn something new about the little town’s past. That happened this week while I was researching an article I’m preparing for the local paper. I read the information, read it again, and thought “where has that been for the past twenty years?” Of course the answer is hiding in plain sight. The internet and newspaper archives have allowed me to research sources that simply weren’t available to me even five years ago.

I’m taking my birding skills to a new level this year by learning more about the birds I photograph. In the past I haven’t read much more than the description provided for identification.  Now I keep a bird guide next to my chair in the living room. I alternate between reading my Bible, a novel, a non-fiction book, or the bird guide when there are stupid commercials and mindless programs on television. As you can imagine, that gives me a lot of reading time!  So I study the different birds that are common to our area and then observe their behaviors.

I’m attempting to learn more about photography and improve my skills, but this is always where my brain gets foggy and my creative side starts whining. Much of the technical side of photography involves numbers and numbers remind me of math and….math was never my forte.  So “trial and error” will no doubt continue to be my mainstay, but I promise I’ll try to learn something new.

My brain has actually been on “overload” because of all the new things I’m learning about the history of education in Oklahoma, Bryan County in particular. Nearly everything I thought I knew was based on “Little House on the Prairie” and a few history lessons taught during my own education. And nearly everything I knew was wrong. The reality of how our ancestors were educated has been the focus of my attention for six months now and I can’t wait to share the results when my new book is published.

Yes, there are so many things I didn’t know, things I still don’t know. Teaching my brain those new things should keep me busy for another twenty years.