HEADER

Much appreciation is offered for the use of the blog header from www.countingyourblessings.com. It is a beautiful blog. I visit it and find myself relaxing. Thanks and more thanks.

BLUE

In The Coal Tattoo, Silas House writes that Anneth was pinned to the mattress with sadness. Tonight I understand that so well. As I write this it is almost midnight. If not for Olivia coughing I would be unable to move. It's a good thing that she is keeping me up. I can remember coughing like this when I was her age, I can always remember coughing. I'm coughing tonight. When I was little I would cough all night, nothing seemed to help. I would be exhausted in the morning but my mother would send me to school, where I would cough all day. She meant well, she thought (and still thinks), that nobody should miss a day of school or work. I learned early on that she was wrong. Life goes on.
The cats are settled, the rabbit is snuggled in his box, Olivia seems to be sleeping, Hubby is fast asleep, just me awake. Looking out the window, I can't see a light on in any of the houses around us. The street light is on, after being out for several nights. I think I like it better dark.
By morning, my spirits will lift. I won't be so blue. At least, I will have to carry on as if the blues have left me or they were never with me at all. It will be my secret.

MELTED SNOW

The snow melted so fast that I have almost forgotten it was here. The snow was much more fun than the mud.

OLIVIA

VENTURING OUT

THE GIFT OF A QUILT

This quilt was given to me by my mother's friend who has moved to assisted living. It was made by her step-mother. It has some years on it. I know I shouldn't use it but it is the perfect quilt for wrapping up to read. My aunt tells me the pattern is Seven Sisters. I love all the little prints.

RAIN

The rain is making me sleepy. It's the perfect kind of rain, gentle, steady. Peaceful.

FEBRUARY 29

I think it would be fun to have my birthday on February 29. I meant to mail myself some envelopes today so I would have the postmark. I guess it can wait 4 more years.

R IS FOR ROBERT

I called my mother to ask her if she remembered the year that Bob came to Fordsville. She gave it some thought, tried to place it with other events in our life, but came to the conclusion that she wasn't sure of the year. So as far as I am concerned, he was just always here, no coming or leaving.
I have learned many things from Bob. He introduced me to Broadway music, gave me all of his albums (I still have them all), enabled me to love this music everyday of my life.
While I was in the 7th grade, Bob and my mother would pick me up from school and we would take off on a drive. I never knew where we might be going. Sometimes he would make us close our eyes while he drove fast, made turns, drove in reverse and gave us hints that had nothing to do with where we were going. Occasionally, he would make us wear blindfolds. The destination was always worth the trip, overlooks, riverbanks, hills, valleys, railroad beds, places to eat, visits with strange people. We were often lost, finding wonderful places on those unknown roads, looking for them later but not finding them.
Many nights our house would be full of Bob and his friends, playing guitars, singing, eating, Mama always fed well. My father would say we were all crazy and go to my grandmother's house and go to bed. One night my mother was playing the piano and Bob was reading a poem. As she changed the tempo Bob fell right in with his reciting. There are no words to tell how funny that was and it can never be recaptured. Maybe it was the same night of recitation that Bob said in a loud, clear, professional voice, "A is for navel."
Bob spent many nights at our house and bedtime was interesting. As we would all get settled, Bob or Mama would start to moo, the other would bark. Following a few moments of quiet, one of them would meow, the other respond with a neigh. After a few rounds of this my father would say we were all crazy and go to my grandmother's house and go to bed.
During this time Bob was attending seminary in Lexington. Every weekend he came to Fordsville as soon as his last class was over. He would come in the house telling us that he was going back to Lexington on Sunday as soon as he had eaten dinner. But then he needed a nap after eating and the hour would grow late. So he would decide to stay until Monday morning, but was going to leave early, telling Mama to wake him at the crack of dawn. We would barely get up in time for me to get to school. Then in the afternoon when I got out of school, there would be Bob and Mama to pick me up. He would say, "Now Little Sister, I'm leaving for Lexington as soon as I take you and your mother home." But Mama would tell him to come in and drink some limeade and have a tuna fish sandwich. Of course, at bedtime, more mooing, meowing, barking, neighing. Early on Tuesday morning I would hear him bustling around, bounding off the porch, slamming the car door, flooring the accelerator, gravel pelting the windows of the house. We knew he would roll into Lexington just barely in time for his first class. We waited for him to return on Friday.
In all the years since we have never lost touch, never farther away than an e-mail or a phone call.
I know that I have a big brother who is supportive and honest, listens, confides, guards my confidences, laughs, understands, grieves, applauds, shares, no matter my circumstance. For this, I am quite thankful.
So, Robert, as you read this, I'm glad to be your little sister.

FROM THIS...

...TO THIS

EYELIDS

My favorite thing about going to church is the ride home. I lay my seat back and Mama gives me a treatment. She rubs and scratches my head, paying special attention to one spot along my crown on the right side. Then she moves to my ears, revisiting my head all the while. My neck is next, straight down from my ears all the way around to the back of my neck and up the back of my head. Just recently, she has started rubbing my eyelids. I take off my glasses and I can feel her cool fingertips wisp across my skin. All my anguish falls away, my whole body relaxes, my only life is in my eyelids.

SADIE

ALL KINDS OF THINGS

All kinds of things have been happening. So many, in fact, that I can't keep up with them myself. First off, Susan got the flu and missed a week of school. Leah had a runny nose and couldn't go to day care so I went to Georgetown. Then Susan's flu goes into pneumonia. She misses more school. I came home on Friday, bringing Leah with me. We picked up Olivia in Owensboro and they both spent the night here. They had fun playing together. We had fun watching them.
Mama fell and cut her head. She bled all over the place but it wasn't a deep cut. Luckily, I had forgotten to put her blood thinner in her medicine box or the bleeding could have been a problem. She seems to be fine.
Leah went home Monday afternoon, just ahead of the bad weather. Mama, Olivia and I took her to Bardstown to meet her daddy. By the time we started home the snow had started. The closer we got to home the worse the weather was and the slicker the roads. When I turned in Mama's driveway I almost missed it, pushing her paper box in the ditch. We were glad to be home. Olivia said it wasn't any fun at all.
It's been cold, snowy and slick since Monday night. I filled the bird feeders. I don't like the blackbirds but I guess they are hungry too.
There are no children here tonight. I miss them.

THINGS THAT HAPPENED YESTERDAY

I substituted in 3rd grade yesterday. Leah was here so she went with me and had the most wonderful time. The third graders were participating in an awards ceremony. We all took our seats on the bleachers where the students soon brought to my attention a pile of something on the floor, with tissue nearby. I had the students all move away from the pile and I went for the janitor. She soon came with her cart containing every cleaning tool known to man. She came up on the bleachers, bent down to look and asked me what did I think it was. I assured her it was poop. Upon closer inspection she determined it was a chewed-up pickle. Needless to say, we about died laughing. We were all quite relieved.

Later in the day Mama and I took Leah to Bardstown to meet Michael. She wasn't happy about being cold and had to be wrapped in a blanklie and carried to the other car. Can't say that I blame her. The wind was freezing. She got settled and left for home. I was sad to see her go, I'm missing her tonight. I wish they were all here.

Mama and I were hungry so we decided to get something to eat. We wanted something out of the norm, something in an interesting building with the best food for miles around. Mama had me looking for a place that surely has been closed for years. We don't much like Old Talbott Tavern, except for the cherry cobbler with ice cream. So we settled on Mammy's Rock 'n Robin cafe. From the street it looked ok. The inside wasn't too bad, it was clean. But then our food came, Mama had mashed potatoes (no gravy), green beans (which she didn't order and didn't eat), I had what I thought surely had to be bologna quesadillas . Strange little squares of meat (maybe it was meat) made me wonder if it was bologna.The two triangle shaped pieces were huge, filled with tomato sauce, onions, peppers and squares of bologna. We did have a good time laughing at ourselves. We were hungry all the way home.
It was an interesting Thursday.

S IS FOR SUSAN

At this time 39 years ago, I was pregnant. Overdue and anxious. John Wayne and I were staying in Fordsville at Mama and Daddy's house. I did nothing while mama cooked, carried, cleaned. We knew it couldn't be much longer so every time I sneezed they all got in the car, while I was still reading on the couch. Finally on February 3rd the time came for her to be born. Labor wasn't the most fun thing to happen to me so far but survive it, I did. Susan weighed 8 lbs and 14oz. She was the prettiest little baby in the whole hospital and for miles around. When the nurses would bring her to me and it was just the two of us in the room, I would look at her in amazement that this was my baby, she was going home with me. It was such an exciting time, yet fearful too. I didn't know how to take care of a baby. But I soon learned. Susan was a good baby, just cried when she was hungry or had a wet diaper. She would look you right in the eye and just be content to be in your company. She grew up all too soon, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. At least, I guess I wouldn't.
As she grew it became apparent that she had many talents. She began dancing lessons at 3 years old and took lessons until she was a senior in high school. She kept herself stylish and beautiful.
Now that she is pushing 40 and has three daughters of her own, I still see that little girl in her. She is talented, beautiful, smart, funny, loyal. I love her.

T IS FOR TWENTY THREE

Twenty three years ago tonight, my father died. The thing I remember the most is telling my children. They were both just stricken with grief. It changed their lives. They spent many days and nights with my parents, once even staying for 6 weeks without being at home even for a night. We would go visit them but they were having a good time. It's a good thing for them to have so many memories.

WHAT I TOOK MY MOTHER

This is what I brought my mother on Friday:
- a box of kleenex with Vicks salve
- 5 pounds of yellow corn meal
- a hand operated egg beater from a junk store
- a white bowl with a handle, also from the junk store
- a package of panty liners

U IS FOR UNTIL

My mind tells me I can't do this, I can't do that, until this or that or later or after or before. My heart is telling me there is no until. Only this minute. I just have to open my eyes, flex my fingers and write. No thinking about until....

V IS FOR VINE

Vine walks with every day. I can't see her but I know she is there. She tells her story in one of my all-time favorite books, A PARCHMENT OF LEAVES by Silas House. She tells her story in words that stay with me continually. I would be lost without her.