. . . just as much of a treat, but without the potential calories … that’s browsing in the blogging world!

Because my lovely friend, Hilary, at The Smitten Image, made my story about A Hardworking Grandma one of her Posts of the Week, I received some comments from people I’ve never “met” before.

And one comment was especially interesting.  A comment by gaelikaa caught my interest when she said that she, like Hubby’s mother, lives in the same house with her in-laws, plus her brother-in-law and his wife!  But she went on to say that that isn’t at all unusual where they live … in India.

Who could resist following that intriguing thread?  So, I went to her blog, gaelikaa – Out of Ireland. into India, and it is fascinating reading.  I think if you visit there, you will agree. 

She is Irish but her husband is Indian and she has lived in India for the last 15 years with him and their four children. 

One of her commenters said that reading one of her posts is like reading a mini-novel, and I agree.  An excellent writer, writing about a culture very different from my own.

This just reminds me, once again, isn’t the blogging world wonderful?  There are so many interesting people and stories out there to “meet” and read about at our leisure.

And, of course, the biggest blessing of my blog world, is those of you I have come to know and call friend, both bloggers and commenters.  Thank you for becoming a wonderful part of my world, friends.

Now I recommend you go read about gaelikaa dealing with daily life in a very different culture than what most of us have experienced.  A worthwhile read.

“Wipe that look off your face!”

Every time Dad said this to my child self, it struck my heart with fear, because I really and truly had no idea what he was talking about.  I was scared shtless at those times. Today, I know he didn’t like me looking at him like he was some kind of monster; he didn’t like the fear in my eyes.  Back then, though, I was completely bewildered

And, of course, he blamed me for looking at him that way, when he could have easily put an end to it by ending his tirade, taking me in his arms, and apologizing. I loved him and would have forgiven him. Instead, I was left to search my mind for other faces to wear, finding none that fit. It was like running for cover in a hailstorm but finding none.

That is the beginning of this recent post by my friend, Barb, whose blog is Half Past Kissin’ Time.  In it she shares a childhood memory of her sometimes verbally abusive father that made me want to cry.  After reading it, I will forever cringe if I hear the words, “Wipe that look off your face!”   

The Barb I have gotten to know over the several years we have been blogging friends is a self-confident, successful wife, mother and teacher of problem children.  If it wasn’t for the occasional posts she has written about her sometimes unhappy childhood, I would never guess that this pretty blonde has had anything but a charmed life.  (And she does sometimes share sweet and funny childhood memories too.)

But this particular post really touched me.  It made me picture a small fearful child being ordered to do the impossible and stop showing their fear on their face, by a parent who they want very badly to please.

After reading her post maybe you, like me, will wonder about how we may have said things in anger to our own children.  Maybe not as obvious as this, but still words that would hurt in ways we could never predict.  It would be easy to do, especially if you had never heard it described, as Barb touchingly does, about how it feels to be the child on the receiving end.

May God bless those of you currently raising children with patience, fairness and love to temper the discipline necessary when dealing with your precious but sometimes exasperating little gifts from God.

And may God bless Barb in every facet of her life, but especially in her work with teenagers with emotional and social problems.  It seems obvious to me that the tough experiences in her own childhood have made her an especially capable and empathetic teacher of those teens.

I ‘ve told you many stories about the history of my family, partly because of Mama’s book — there are lots of stories to tell.  But, I guess, the main reason is mostly because  it is my family! 

But there are also some great stories I’d like to tell about Hubby’s family.  And today I’m remembering his Grandma Martha.

   This is a picture of Hubby’s grandparents, Martin and Martha, with their young family around 1912.  Hubby’s dad, Arthur, is the baby (here is a post I wrote last year about his life).

Of course, they are all dressed in their Sunday best, because I’m sure it was a big event when they had a formal picture taken.  But, don’t be fooled into thinking these were people of leisure.  They were hardworking farmers who worked from sun up to sundown to farm their land and raise their family.

And here is a favorite family story about Grandma Martha that shows that she had already developed her hardworking ways as a young girl. 

This story happened one year at harvest time when Martha was a very young teen. 

If I understand correctly, this is the way they picked the corn.  Each worker strapped a tool, something like the ones pictured below, to the palm of one hand.  In essence, it was a knife that you didn’t have to keep picking up or worry about dropping.

Then they walked down the line of corn stalks in teams of two, with each working the stalks on their side, removing each ear by using this tool to cut back the dry husks and silks (to minimize the contact their bare hands had with the sharp husks) so that they could then grip the ear of corn with the other hand and snap it off the stalk. 

I know there were wagons to put the corn in, but I can’t invision where they would have been, without knocking down the corn, so I’m picturing that maybe each worker wore some sort of bag that they would take to a wagon at the edge of the field and dump when it was full. 

Four workers were hired to help do the picking.  But, one day during the harvest one of the workers didn’t show up and Martha volunteered to fill in.  This wasn’t a job that girls and women normally did. 

I’m guessing that the three “pros” (strong young men who made good money during this time of year, hiring out to whatever neighbor needed help with his harvest) were all hoping they wouldn’t have to team up with the girl, but someone had to and it ended up being a young neighbor, Jim. 

Then the other two young men, suddenly enjoying what they saw as their friend’s disadvantage for having to be teamed with a very young girl, suggested a contest.  The two teams would start picking at opposite ends of the field, and they would see who could get to the middle first.  Jim agreed, but I imagine without much expectation of winning.

But, I’m sure you can guess what happened … Martha and Jim won!   And for the rest of their lives (they always lived in the same area, so knew lots of people in common) Jim loved to tell people the story about Martha and him beating those other two.  And he would always elaborate on how strong and fast Martha was and how hard she worked.  My guess is, that all three of those guys learned that day, “Don’t bet against Martha!”

When Hubby’s parents, Art and Vera, married, it was agreed that Art would begin purchasing the farm and he and Vera would live in the big family farmhouse with Martin and Martha.  I don’t know if there was ever any discussion about Martin and Martha moving to a smaller house in town, as Martin’s parents had done when Martin and Martha married and purchased the farm from them, but, for whatever reason, it never happened.  Both Martin and Martha lived out their lives sharing a home with their son, daughter-in-law and their children.  And, by the way, several generations living in the same house wasn’t at all unusual back then.

Actually, Grandpa Martin only lived long enough to know two of Art and Vera’s children, Hubby and his older sister.  The story goes that Martha and Martin were hosting a family get-together and there was a spirited Euchre game going on around the kitchen table (a favorite card game in this area).  Someone had just said something funny and Martin threw back his head and laughed, tipping his chair back on its back legs, but then he and the chair just continued to fall back.  He was dead from a heart attack before he hit the floor.  Hubby was 9 months old at the time.

But, Grandma Martha lived 16 years longer.  In fact, when I started dating Hubby, she was still alive.  I only remember meeting her a couple times.  What I remember most about her is that she called everyone by their given name — she called me Sandra, even though everyone else at that time called me Sandy.

   This is the only other picture of Grandma Martha I could find.  I would guess this was when she was in her 40’s. 

Apparently Grandma Martha’s demeanor was always one of  hard work and perpeteual motion, going from one task to the next, without any down time.  My mother-in-law, Vera, a wonderful person who I’m sure would never have said this to Grandma, did tell me one time that there were times during the many years she lived with her hardworking mother-in-law, when she would have liked to just be able to sit down for a little while.  But, she said she never felt like she could do that when Grandma herself never “just sat down”!  No matter how wonderful her mother-in-law was, I’m sure there were times when Hubby’s mom, and I’m guessing Grandma too, wished she didn’t have to share a house with another woman.  But, overall, they had a good relationship.  

I’m told that when everyone sat down in the evening to relax, even then, Grandma liked to sit in a straight-back chair at the end of the sofa with her sewing basket and a stack of clothes that needed to be mended next to her so that she could do mending!  But, and this is a very big but, Hubby says he remembers that any time he or one of his siblings would take a book to her and ask her to read to them, she would stop what she was doing, and read.

Hubby says it wasn’t always fun to have a third adult supervising you, especially when you were a high-energy little boy, but he now looks back fondly on their live-in grandma who, even though a hard worker, still always had time for her grandchildren, and he recognizes the ways she added to all their lives, not the least of which was as an example of the value of hard work!

Two weekends ago we visited Gunny and his family for a very busy long weekend.  Our goals while we were there were — to see Nikki cheer at a varsity football game — to celebrate her 16th birthday — to attend her and Jays’ confirmation — to see Jay play on the freshman football team — and to squeeze in some visiting time whereever we could.   And we managed to do it all!

On Friday night:

  Because of the confirmation we didn’t have any flexibility in which weekend we visited, so if we wanted to see Nikki cheer we would have to drive to a game on Friday night two and a half hours away!  But when you live as far away as we do, you have to take opportunities as they present themselves, so we made the trip and were glad we did.

  It was an exciting game that our team won in the last few minutes.

  Nikki with a close friend who is also a cheerleader.

   It was realllly cold and I hadn’t thought to take gloves, so Dilly was kind enough to lend me one of hers.  Not a perfect, solution but at least it helped!  (It’s hard to see, but we had our gloved hands clasped together in the middle.)

On Saturday:

   We celebrated Nikki’s 16th birthday!

   We couldn’t decide on what kind of cake to buy at the fantastic local bakery, so we bought two small ones — one lemon and one red velvet.

   But, as her special birthday “cake” Nikki opted for a slice of strawberry cheesecake, and then we bought this humongus candle to go on top that was about the same size as the slice it was sitting on!

   I wanted to get a nice family picture of them.  But, Jay was goofing off a little.

   So, he and Gunny “discussed” how he should pose for the picture …

   … ahhh, much better.

   I love this picture.  Nikki knows how to smile for a picture, but Jay does have trouble deciding how he should pose.  So I like this one because he just looks like him – no pose at all!

   I don’t know.  Do you think you can tell they’re related? I kind of think so.

   And these two look a little alike too.

On Sunday morning:

   Nikki and Jay were confirmed into the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod.  They each had to ask someone to stand with them at the front and read their confirmation bible verse, and they asked Hubby and me.  Hubby for Jay and me for Nikki.  We were very honored that they asked us.

On Monday night:  We enjoyed watching Jay’s freshman football team win their game.  Thankfully, it wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been for the varsity game on Friday night!  But, unfortunately I forgot my camera, so you’ll just have to take my word for it that he was very cute (in a “manly” sort of way, of course) in his uniform and played well.

Early Tuesday morning:

   Gunny met us for breakfast before we left town.  We had to wait a few minutes for the doors of the restaurant to open at 6 a.m.!

Thank you Father for the wonderful time we got to spend with our loved ones.

… it’s very hard to laugh and be mad at the same time.

The very funny husband of one of my nieces in Atlanta told me this story from their early days of marriage.  Somehow it made it even funnier that he was telling it in his pronounced southern drawl.

They had just been married a short time. 

He went out for an evening with a couple friends, but said he would be home by midnight.

He lost track of time and suddenly realized it was 1:30 a.m.!  Rats.  She was going to be mad.  But wait, maybe she was asleep and wouldn’t even notice what time he got home! 

But, on the other hand, if she was waiting up for him, she would be really worried.  (This was before cell phones, so she couldn’t call him even if she was awake and worried about where he was.)

He decided he had to take the chance of waking her up.  He called.

But, when she answered the phone, before she could even say hello, he said in an excited voice (and, of course, in his cute southern drawl),

“DON’T PAY THE RANSOM, HONEY!  I ESCAPED!”

They’ve been married a long time now, and I’m betting that “excuse” only worked once, but knowing them both, I’m sure they’ve had lots of other laughs along the way. 

Laughter is an invaluable ingredient in a marriage.

Last week I had the rare pleasure of getting to meet two fellow bloggers — C and V from Stickhorse Cowgirls!  Hubby and I were passing through the city where they live and I had contacted them and asked if we could have dinner.  Hubby just stayed long enough to eat, and then he left the three of us to gab till our hearts content.  And we did just that.

It was so exciting to get to put faces to two women who had over months of reading and commenting on each other’s blogs, become my blogging friends.  We talked (and ate, at least part of the time) for three hours, with nary an awkward silence.  The conversation really was more like old friends catching up after a long absence, rather than strangers meeting for the first time.  Remarkable, touching, fun, memorable.  And now, I consider V and C real, honest-to-goodness friends of mine.

But, the real friendship I want to tell you about is the one between the two of them.  Sitting at a table with them for three hours gave me a little snapshot of their very special friendship (of over 50 years!), and how it blesses both their lives.  I can’t remember anything specific they said that would be an example.  All I can say is that I came away from that evening having been reminded of how precious old friendships can be when they are firmly grounded in shared love and respect and lots of shared memories.

May we all cherish and nourish the friendships we have been blessed with — both old and new.  They are such a plus in life.

Thank you, C and V for such a memorable, fun evening.  Now, when I read your words, I see your faces and hear your voices. 

A truly special evening.

When I was talking to one of my adult nieces in Atlanta about my  love of all the changing seasons, she laughingly told me what the southern version is of the four seasons:

Almost Summer … Summer … Still Summer  … Christmas!

There is much to enjoy about their “seasons”, but I think, at least for now, I will continue to enjoy the traditional four seasons we experience in Indiana.

Thanks for always being able to make me laugh, Teresa!

Here are some other pictures taken from a moving car through sometimes dirty and sometimes rained-on windows!

I thought these three that were taken in really heavy rain were beautiful:

I liked the contrast of the Fall colors with the wooden fence:

I love fall:

  I must have moved the camera, because I’m sure Hubby wasn’t driving that fast!

But even in this colorful season, I am sometimes drawn to just the silloutte of  trees against the sky:

 I do almost always not only crop my pictures, but also hit the Enhance button.   It’s hard for me to tell if that is good or not.  I would love to hear from some of  you who have done photography much longer than me.   I do that because I am truly a lover of color, and my pictures never seem to pick up all the vividness of the colors as I saw them in person.  Hmmm.  Doesn’t sound like the camera’s fault, does it.  More like an operator quirk!

Oh well, I savor  the colors of Fall (with a b/w thrown in once in a while) and these are great reminders to me of all the color we saw on our trip.

Catching a picture of Fall foliage in a rear view mirror (because I had thought this would be a verrrry clever title for a post, but, obviously, needed a picture to make it work) was much harder than I anticipated. 

After trying unsuccessfully to get the picture in the mirror on my side of the car, I found out that the view/angle was better in the one on Hubby’s side.  But, of course, in order to take one over there, I had to ask him to hold the steering wheel at the bottom in order for me to have a clear shot, while I rested the camera on his shoulder and took the picture.  I think (no, I’m sure!) he got a little tired of the request, because I took many.  Unfortunately, afterwards, when I looked at the pictures, most of them, while colorful, showed how dirty the mirror was … somewhat distracting.  So, I’ve used these because they are the most colorful of those that didn’t show how dirty the mirror was!

We will be leaving tomorrow morning for a two-week vacation to Tulsa and then Atlanta.  So, I don’t think I’ll have an opportunity to be in contact with you during that time.

If you visit during that time hoping to be entertained, I recommend any of the blogs on my blogroll to the right and down a little. 

Or, if you’d like to read some “vintage Sandra”, please browse in my archives, also on the right.

May God bless you and keep you safe until we meet here again.

Sandra