The View from Here

"Hi, Mom!"

Last night when I answered my phone, my oldest daughter’s face popped up on the screen in my hand even though she is far away in CA. “Hi Mom! How are you?” That was the beginning of a 45-minute Face Time conversation with her, my granddaughter, and her best friend. Earlier in the day my son had arranged a Zoom meeting with my other daughter and her husband in VT. I don’t have the knowledge or the laptop to do that alone…yet. I’m still learning and becoming more comfortable with these new communication tools.

            If you’re close to my age you probably remember someone- a teacher or news reporter- telling you about “phones of the future” and how they would show us the faces of our conversation partners. It seemed like something from the Jetson’s. I know I looked at our black rotary phone many times and tried to figure out how the great inventors would actually accomplish such a magical feat.  

            My great aunt Martha talked of arriving in Oklahoma in a wagon and living long enough to watch a man walk on the moon. I felt like that yesterday. When I was a child in California, we could only call my grandmother in Oklahoma if we had saved a lot of money, waited patiently for the operator to connect us, and kept our conversation very short. Thanksgiving wasn’t important enough for any of that, so we waited for Christmas. Mom got to talk the most, because it was her mom, and she missed her so much. I usually just told her I liked my present and then handed the phone to one of my brothers to do the same. The next time I talked to my grandmother was sometime in the summer during our annual visit.

            We’ve come so far. We’ve enhanced our communication so much. And I know that somewhere there is some tech wizard figuring out how we can do something even more remarkable. Teleportation?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Have a wonderful holiday and stay safe. 

Dear Santa

I’ve spent a great deal of time online this morning, doing something that I do each year, something that I enjoy immensely- reading letters to Santa. I usually don’t start this annual project until after Thanksgiving, but this year I was curious about how the Spanish Flu and WWI influenced the letters of the children of 1918. So far, I’ve only found two that mention the flu, but I’ll certainly continue my search. I also found several other interesting letters from other years. I’ll post those to my history blogs and FB pages.

Old newspapers are much more educational, enlightening, and entertaining than our current national news. If you have access to a newspaper archive, I encourage you to make use of it. Our local library has one and access is free!

The Lawton Constitution

December 7, 1918

Dear Santa:

            I don’t want much this year on account of the war.

            I only wish that Nat and Unita (Anita?) Robertson will be well of the “flu” so we can play together, but please don’t forget Belgium and French children.

            I want a few handkerchiefs and two pair of stockings, my bicycle repaired so I can get to school on time and won’t have to go to the office, a magic set, oranges, apples, bananas, and nuts. Your loving friend, Perry Bear

December 12, 1918

My Dear Santa:

            I am sick with the “flu” and can’t go out, so bring me a dolly with long hair and a cart, then I can play when I get well, and dear Santa be sure and don’t forget to give little French kids some toys, and Santa I have little brother, Robert. He is four years old and he wants a gun and a red wagon and I have baby sister, Doretha. She wants a little rubber doll. Now please bring me some candy and oranges and I will be a good little girl and always love you. Ruth Elizabeth Willet. (Note: Ruth also had a letter in the paper in December of 1919.)

Pies

During my PT session yesterday, the conversation drifted to Thanksgiving…and pie. There were three great pie makers in our family- Gary’s grandmother, Florence; my grandmother, Beatrice; my great-grandmother, Bigg (Edna). Yes, my mom made a good pie and so did several other relatives, but we’re talking “great”, memorable pies. Those three were the experts.

Florence made the best fruit pies. If you wanted an apple, apricot, cherry, or pumpkin she made the best. Her crust was thick, but flaky. The only pie she made that I didn’t like was rhubarb. Does anyone even make that anymore?

Grandma Bea made silky smooth chocolate, lemon meringue, and coconut cream pies. She perfected her skills in the café where she worked and we benefited. Dad’s favorite was the lemon, mine the chocolate.

I can close my eyes and almost taste Bigg’s pecan pie. I’m not quite sure what she did that was different from anyone else’s version of this classic pie. If she ever divulged her secret I no one shared it with me. Pecan pies that I’ve attempted always seemed a little too sweet and the crust was too soft. She also made two pies that I could have skipped- mincemeat, and golden raisin. If my memory is correct, she still used a bit of beef in her mincemeat and I found that strange for a dessert. The raisin pie was just too sweet for my taste buds.

Mom made a good sweet potato pie. My child’s mind remembers more about my grandmother Della’s cakes than her pies. Of course, I spent more summers than winters at her house.

Years ago my mother gave me an 1890 cookbook and I’ve shared some recipes from it. This morning I’ll share the recipe for cocoanut pie:

 

One-half pound grated cocoanut, three-quarters pound of white sugar (powdered), six ounces of butter, five eggs, the whites only, one glass of white wine, two tablespoonfuls rose-water, one tablespoonful of nutmeg.  Cream the butter and sugar and when well-mixed, beat very light, with the wine and rose-water. Add the cocoanut with as little and as light beating as possible; finally, whip in the stiffened whites of the eggs with a few skillful strokes, and bake at once in open shells. Eat cold, with powdered sugar sifted over them.

 

No, I won’t be making a pie for Thanksgiving. My son is cooking dinner this year and I’m contributing a pie…that I bought. It’s still in the freezer. I know, I know. I’m a disgrace in the kitchen. Generations of cooking skills ignored me and waited for my three children. And for that I’m very thankful.

Down a Country Road

 

A Perspective on Life and Death

Yesterday a friend on FB posted a picture of her precious new grandchild. Another shared half a dozen photos of her daughter’s wedding. Yet another shared the obituary for her son, who died earlier this week of an apparent heart attack. In my own little family we have recently celebrated a birthday, a new job, a big move, and the recovery of a relative with COVID.

            COVID. Its power to destroy now dominates our thoughts and influences our daily actions. Currently there are 10,314,254 cases of COVID in the U.S. and we’ve lost 241,069 citizens to its power. Yet, even as the daily news focuses on gloom and doom, sickness and death, despair and depression, it occurred to me last night that millions of us are listening to that news.

            The Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918 killed 675,000 people in the U.S. and approximately 50 million worldwide, but here we are with a current U. S. population of 331 million people. We’re the third largest country in the world, outnumbered by only China and India. Worldwide there are 7.8 billion of us crowded onto this small planet. While we mourn each and every death of 1918 and understand the impact it had on life in general, we cannot overlook the fact that life continued. People survived and even thrived. Lessons were learned that improved healthcare. Creative minds set to work to make the world a better place. The Kleenex tissue was invented.  So were dozens of other products that we now take for granted. Scientists began the work that eventually led to the vaccines we have today. The flu destroyed many lives, but it also set others in motion. Though many parents didn’t survive the pandemic, their children did.

            Our current situation is precarious and frightening. COVID will kill many more people before we get it under control. It will alter lives and change the way we do many things.  However, I’m comforted by the undeniable fact that unless God chooses otherwise, life will go on. That bride I saw on FB may live to be a grandmother who tells her grandchild what it was like to get married during a pandemic. I’m also reminded that there are many ways to die. God will choose how and when I leave this world. Until that day, I am thankful to be here and trying to make informed, wise decisions. I’m just living my life.

            Please wear a mask.

A Good Laugh

I was looking through my family files this morning when I came across this card printed by my great-uncle, James Alexander. I remember him as a kind man with a huge smile and sense of humor. This proof gave me a good laugh this morning.

 

Do Good

 

I decided today that I needed this reminder. Even if I disagree with the words and actions of others, I can keep my heart and mind focused on striving to “do good”.

1 Peter 3

⁸ Finally, all of you be of one mind, having compassion for one another; love as brothers, be tenderhearted, be courteous; ⁹ not returning evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary blessing, knowing that you were called to this, that you may inherit a blessing. ¹⁰ For

“He who would love life
And see good days,
Let him refrain his tongue from evil,
And his lips from speaking deceit.
¹¹ Let him turn away from evil and do good;
Let him seek peace and pursue it.
¹² For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous,
And His ears are open to their prayers;
But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.”

Escape

               

Gary and I escaped the chaos of the world yesterday and spent a couple of hours at the wildlife refuge. I may have mentioned before that we leave our troubles at the gate when we’re there. We don’t discuss anything except what we see in front of us. We take in the sights and sounds of the water and the grasses and the trees. We observe the behaviors of the birds and other wildlife. Phones stay off. Worries can wait.

                If we lived a little closer, we would no doubt be here at least once a week. However, even once a month is enough to help counterbalance some of the challenges of this year. I always regain a little peace and joy watching the herons catch fish or listening to the geese honking. I hope these photos allow you to share a little of that peace and joy.

Fall

I feel blessed today to live in a region that often ignores the actual seasons. Today it was warm (70+) and windy and I took these photos. Fall? Maybe...