Wednesday Update

This is just a post to actually have something new up here. I have Blogger's Block - :-) I wanted to do a really nice post about Mother and her birthday, which was Sunday September 6. She was born in 1919 and would have been 90. I did begin one but only got as far as downloading a picture of her as a baby. This photo looks to be less than one year, certainly no more than that - so this photo would have been taken in 1920 probably. That is her Daddy standing behind her and he looks to be carving sugar cane.

Now there's something I like to remember. I don't know where everybody got it but I distinctly remember the adults in my life having sugar cane - I know Ella had it and would carve me a "chew". I loved chewing on the fibers and getting that sweet juice out of it. yum.

I really do miss Mom - I wish she could see my grandchildren and how cute they are. She really loved babies and was so good with them. She also liked Fall and afternoon coffee. I've been using my stove top percolator and having afternoon coffee by myself and thinking it would be nice to hand her a cup and hear her say, "ooohh, this coffee's so good!". She often said that. She was a great nest builder. Her home. She wasn't a big spender - nothing was designer stuff and matchy match - but it was in good taste and a nice look - comfortable and tastefully done. I really liked her style. Mother was a stickler for detail. I learned that from her. Clutter happened in her home, but then she would attack it and be so pleased once it was dealt with.

Well, I could go on and on......

Tomorrow is Luke's birthday and he'll be 3. I know Ann will write all about it on her blog - but I'm playing a grandmother role in all of it today. Ann's so busy "doing" the birthday thing today plus having to be packed for the big beach trip which really begins tomorrow. I'm helping her get as far as Evergreen - then I'll return on Saturday. Steve will join them on Saturday and they'll all go to their destination spot.

I've acted as her "assistant" of sorts today - just whatever she needs me to do - Presents will be opened here this afternoon and then the birthday meal and cake will be at the "Wednesday Night Youth and Children's meal" at church. Right now Andrew is sleeping upstairs. I've wrapped what I can and have a minute to post this before the hoopla begins. Then all the traveling tomorrow.

I'll close this post with a little poem that is copied down in Mother's handwriting. She must have found it and liked it. It's on some cutsey notepaper that has little drawings at the bottom and a printed quote at that top which reads - The Most Precious Things in Life Aren't Things. On the back of the small little notepad paper is a todo list and a bill paying list, in her handwriting. Because of the items on the list I can tell this was scribbled down while she was living in Scottsboro during those last 2 years of Daddy's life - when they moved here for me to help Mother with Daddy due to his Alzheimer's disease. Anyway - what a lonely time for Mother and such a dying to self and dying to the demanding of her own way - She lived yielded to HIM, her Redeemer, Savior, Lord - and as usual I didn't get it - what she was living out - the extent of it - until much later - I mean...I thought I did .... I wasn't super young - I was 40 when they moved up here and I had my own "yielding and dying to self" to do... but hers was harder and I didn't get that fully - anyway - during that time the following is the little poem she copied down on this notepad piece of paper.

"There's a house whose rooms I know by heart - Where dreams were dreamed and memories made - Where children grew up, Where life was lived - A house where I belong."

But the reality is that Mother is truly home now, where she belongs.

In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.

Thomas said to Him, "Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?"

Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. John 14:1-6

Mom knew the way and that's how she was able to get to her true home -

SATURDAY

Saturday, my yard really needs cutting - it's drizzling rain - so I'm inside and have been in the kitchen -

and on this computer.

I have had two recipes out which I've wanted to prepare.

Fresh Pesto and Hummus.

That's what is going on in my kitchen - preparation of those two recipes.

Sarah arrived home last night and Kate is driving to Scottsboro right now.

Today begins football season - well - in this family. Auburn's first game - Georgia's first game - that's all I know about.

I'll just mind my own business, stay out of everyone's way - and do what I want to do. Auburn will be watched out at Steve and Ann's house - not here - something about being able to see it on his TV - So - that is how it is on this September Labor Day weekend.

Then and Now and This World

This is my mother's grandmother.

Her name was Ada Chapman Henderson.

She married her husband, Joel Butler Henderson,

on October 4, 1882 at 4:30 p.m.

Ann married Steve on October 5, 2002 at 4:00 p.m.

That has nothing to do with this post and where I'm going with it, but I just realized that and wanted to write that down.

My thoughts went to her this week - it was one of those "Oh yeah .... " with a pause in thinking - then some pondering - so I emailed my sister for some "stats" regarding Granny's children - how many - etc. I've known this stuff but I get it all mixed up.

Mary Ann has the geneology books - family tree records - etc.

Now it's 2009 - and we are frightened regarding the S. Flu - There's a sense of being vulnerable - even for the healthy - not so confident regarding medications and the assumption that all will be well.

When this life presents a crisis that can involve the world and our culture my thoughts go to Mother and Daddy - knowing they lived through their own stuff and now are in heaven - then I go beyond that to my grandparents - and my mind landed on "Granny" - Ada Henderson.

She lived through the Tuberculosis Epidemic of the 19th century and early part of the 20th century.

I googled that TB crisis to get a feel of what that unknown felt like. This is what I got - the first was written regarding the Boston area - it's just what I happened to find.

Tuberculosis is something we don't often think about anymore. But 19th century Concordians were frighteningly aware of the symptoms: the flushed cheeks, the bright eyes, fever, loss of appetite, and most of all, the cough. It was feared, but regarded with a peculiar resignation because it was so unavoidable. It was dreaded, but at the same time romanticized. It was a disease that reflected the culture of its time: the victim slowly, gracefully fading away, transcending their corporeal body, their immortal soul shining through.

In reality, tuberculosis, commonly called consumption in the 19th century, killed more people in New England, particularly in the Boston area, than any other disease. It affected the poor more often than the wealthy, females more than males, and people of all ages. Anyone could be a victim, but it was especially prevalent among young adults, cruelly striking down those in the prime of their lives

And then another article:

In 1882, Robert Koch discovered a staining technique that enabled him to see Mycobacterium tuberculosis. What excited the world was not so much the scientific brilliance of Koch's discovery, but the accompanying certainty that now the fight against humanity's deadliest enemy could really begin.

The measures available to doctors were still modest. Improving social and sanitary conditions, and ensuring adequate nutrition were all that could be done to strengthen the body's defenses against the TB bacillus. Sanatoria, now to be found throughout Europe and the United States, provided a dual function: they isolated the sick, the source of infection, from the general population, while the enforced rest, together with a proper diet and the well-regulated hospital life assisted the healing processes.

Here's what I got from Mary Ann - Most I knew but I wanted dates and just how many children she lost to TB - what were the years? Wanted a recap of her age when certain things happened. - trying to get a mental picture - making her real and feeling the grief she had to experience - and others. and then the understanding of how she lived above the tragedies and hard times - because I've heard the stories - her unique personality - Ella(her youngest and my grandmother), told me about a friend who would come to visit Granny and Ella could remember hearing them laughing so hard - that laughing gene goes WAAAAYYYY back in our family.

I know she must have had a hard edge - because my sweet, soft, gentle mother absolutely adored her - but my aunt who had a bit more - hmmmm - not really rebel - perhaps a good bit more spirited than mom - well she didn't speak as endearingly of Granny as the others did. I think Granny challenged Florence and Florence must have crossed Granny. Or vice versa - We have heard so many Granny stories over the years - I want to meet her.

So this is the truth about what happened.

She was 19 when she married Joel Henderson in 1882. They had 8 children.

Probably first pregnancy(twins) was in 1883 and I know she had her youngest in 1897. That was my grandmother, Ella.

Granny was 34 when she had her 8th child. and then 7 1/2 years later her husband died of TB. That was October 7, 1904. He was 46. Ada was 41 when her husband died. Her oldest sons were probably 21. Ella was 7 1/2 when her daddy died. I don't know the ages of the others, in between - anywhere from 10 to 19, I suppose.

10 years later her son, John, died - we think of TB.

In 1923, 9 years later, her daughter, Francis(Fanny), died of TB.

And in 1945 her son, Joel, (always called "Honey") died with TB.

We always heard about "Honey" and his death because the fam built a small dwelling in the back of Ella's house - way in the back - to isolate him from the rest of the family - to nurse him and treat him - but he didn't survive. He died March of 1945 and 3 years later Granny died at the end of 1948.

Mary Ann told me something else. Mary Ann plays the piano at church and our aunt, Mary, plays the organ. That's the same church which Granny attended, and Ella and Elbert - Mary Ann said that according to Mary, Granny's favorite hymn was "Jesus Savior, Pilot Me". Recently the two of them played an arrangement of that hymn for the offertory.

During my college years when I was so involved in Campus Crusade and that whole thing about sharing the gospel, using the 4 Spiritual Laws developed by Bill Bright - (I never did get the hang of that - not ever - with much unnecessary guilt to carry around) Mother and I had a conversation regarding Granny - Mom said, "she didn't have the 4 spiritual laws or any of that Campus Crusade Material - but she had a faith that was strong and real - she knew what it was about." That's how Mom told me.

Jesus, Savior, pilot me,

Over life’s tempestuous sea;

Unknown waves before me roll,

Hiding rock and treach’rous shoal;

Chart and compass came from Thee:

Jesus, Savior, pilot me.
As a mother stills her child,

Thou canst hush the ocean wild;

Boist’rous waves obey Thy will

When Thou say’st to them, “Be still!”

Wondrous Sov’reign of the sea,

Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

When at last I near the shore,

And the fearful breakers roar

’Twixt me and the peaceful rest,

Then, while leaning on Thy breast,

May I hear Thee say to me,

“Fear not, I will pilot thee.”

This time last year

Last year I put together a playlist of songs that reminded me of September - I've put that list on my blog again -

(okay - edit to this post - I didn't like my idea of last year's September Songs - so I've spent some time just finding songs which are about September - Some I've known, others I haven't - there are a few which have nothing to do with September - it's such a transitional month - back to school - my mother's birthday is September 6 which makes me think of her - Leaves are beginning to fall - not the true "fall leaves" month - clothing styles are changing - away from the pastels of summer - school supplies are in the stores - back to school signs - I hear the school buses running - memories of when Ann and Laura Beth chose to ride the bus to Caldwell School - wouldn't miss that social time with the other girls on the street - all those secular "love" songs which really have nothing to do with romance the way God planned it - but still - reminders of high school days and the way our minds and hearts "thought about everything" - we didn't have a clue - but it was fun - dances - I loved those - memories - for me it was band practice every afternoon at 6th period - Friday night games - Friday afternoon parades for the home games - usually chili dogs for supper - really quick before we had to be at the bandroom early to line up - the drum beat resonating between the buildings as the band snaked it's way to the stadium - or as a child before hormones interfered with anything sane - riding to the games with Mother and Florence and Rachel - new school shoes bought at Suddith and Bethune Shoe Store which later became Lambert's Shoe Store - buying our school books before the State paid for them - cigar boxes for our school crayons and pencils - the fat kind - and paste - who can't list a million September thoughts?)

Today is September 2. I am still listening to Tim Keller in 1 Peter. I still have clothes to fold. With just 2 of us it doesn't seem like we'd have so much laundry, but we wear clean clothes each day, and there's other stuff. Anyway, I'm not going to post much here.

Here's what I do. I type out the Chapter in 1 Peter that he's on. I type it in large print for two reasons. One, so that I can see it and go to it while I'm folding - without holding it so close with my reading glasses - and also someday I think my eyesight will be even worse and I want scripture in really large print. The older I get that's all I want. I want access to God's word. Don't want to be cut off from it. Does anyone think like that? For instance, as liberal as our culture is - what if at some point we don't have access to the word? Scary. That's worse than no food.

Another thing about preparing for the future. Well, our offspring - praying praying that their hearts love God more than anything else - that He is first - that He turns their hearts in such a way to love Him completely. That's more important than their happiness, than their comfort, than their success, than their health - It's more important than anything - even than their good reputation or standing within their little social structure in which they move. And of course as we pray for them, praying for my own heart that He is above all else in my heart and that I live with no other idols above him - no other idols - but of course that takes a lifetime. No idols. We have them - we move them out, we move them back in - whatever causes me to come unglued - well, my idol just got disturbed - or have I lost my peace of mind and heart for a moment - my idol was just tampered with - As many people as there are, there are that many different things to "set our heart on", instead of on the creator Father who loves us above all else. Anyway - that's me going on and on - it's something to think about.

I'm going to type 1 Peter 4 and listen to T.K.

Summer Is Over

It's here - September 1, 2009.

I'm good with it and ready for fall. My birch trees are losing their leaves and I'm liking the feeling - the dry feeling in the yard, even though we've had lots of rain. I just miss summer and was especially glad to see it this year - looked forward to it more than usual. End of 2009 and beginning of 2010 will hold a lot. Well, there's Thanksgiving followed by Christmas. Buckle up for that anyway. Throw in the fact that Andrew will have to have a little surgery either before Christmas or following Christmas, Sarah graduates at the end of this semester and we'll have to move her out of Auburn into somewhere, and Laura Beth is expecting her little one at the beginning of February. Lot of big stuff - but such is life and I don't mean to sound like a wimp. I am a bit wimpy, in anticipation. In the actual doing of the thing I've been raised by Edith and Frank to "get the thing done". Also, I am in the process of being "sanctified" to do all things "in Christ". There.

That's all for this post.

Just wanted to greet September.

Well, I'll say this. What I've done yesterday and today. I don't enjoy folding clothes and I don't enjoy ironing. Both build up - the piles of clean clothes and the piles of unironed clothes. Charlie irons his own and he also is good to fold. Well, yesterday and today, I wanted to listen to Tim Keller - pastor at Redeemer Pres. in New York. I have a whole series he did on 1 Peter. It just so happens that Steve(my pastor and son-in-law) is teaching out of 1 Peter right now. Yay! At this stage of my adult life, Steve and Tim Keller are my two favorite bible teachers. That's the truth. So - each Sunday I get the cd from the previous Sunday - so I'll have a Steve Barber series on 1 Peter and a Tim Keller series on 1 Peter. Both men crack open God's word for me in such a way - it just goes way down into my soul and spirit.

As I'm listening and ironing or folding and thinking and getting the word in a profound way - I think of things I want to share on my blog - so maybe I will in a bit, but not right now.

Diana Ross is singing "I Hear a Symphony" and it's a bit distracting. :-)

Happy September!

More Re: Sunday Dinners

Laura Beth, my "second born", left a comment on my last post regarding the Sunday meal. Most folks who read this blog are either here by accident or are here via Ann's, Laura Beth's, Sarah's, or Kate's blog. I guess just to check out if the "apple fell very far from the tree". Anyone ever heard that analogy? My close friend, Mary Bratton, always has used that saying describing the behavior and tendencies of a child. She would say, "Well, the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree". Of course meaning we need only look to the parents and see how all of this developed. That can be good and that can be not so good.

Back to Laura Beth's comment on my post. She was drawn to my meal descriptions - I'm guessing she was salivating and having heart tugs to be on the scene, around the table - Well, if you follow her blog and a lot of folks do - you've learned that she is very transparent and doesn't fake anything. She tells it like it is. She bemoaned the fact that as a young mother she isn't doing the Sunday Meal situation. I want to clear something up.

I have a distinct memory of being a young mom - with just Ann and Laura Beth - 18 months apart and wanting to begin the good memory traditions. We were just getting started at Calvary Baptist and loving the security of that church family - and I wanted to be able to come home and have a good Sunday meal after the good fellowship at church. So I did that - I started with a determination to have those meals - but my girls were little and those Sunday afternoons turned into many hectic moments - They would be so sleepy and getting them fed and down for a nap was time consuming - plus all the cleanup of the meal - There was no rest and Sundays should be restful and relaxing if possible, as much as possible. Plus, in those days, we thought if we didn't get back for church training and evening church - well - that our world would collapse, I guess. The light bulb went off in my brain one afternoon, knee deep in dishes and so tired - "This is crazy!", I thought. I'll just have to make the "meal memories" at a later time - when the girls are older. After that we did easy quick stuff, often McDonalds or whatever else. Then Sarah and Kate came along and at some point we gathered around the table for Sunday meals again and it wasn't so crazy.

I just love Sunday Dinner, as I said yesterday.

But when the girls got a lot older as in Teenagers, not only Sunday Dinners but evening meals also fell by the wayside. There were so many different schedules and so many different eating habits - people were on diets and older and independent - We lost the "around the dinner table habit/routine".

Next phase, College and Marriage - and for a little bit it was just Charlie and me. Just for a little bit. I remember wishing I had enough people to motivate Sunday dinner - but it was just the two of us and I just was not inspired to do big cooking - but then Ann, Steve and the children moved back and here we are and I really enjoy the Sunday Meal situation and making those "family" memories. But it's the only meal in the week that I cook that big and I really enjoy it. Rest of the week? Ask my girls. Don't cook much - just last minute things like Pasta with whatever tossed into it - or a really good Salad that Charlie makes - it's loaded and soooooo good.

So - Laura Beth and young moms - you have many years to cook and create around the table memories on Sunday - if you so desire - It's very early in the game for you - you'll get there eventually. Just love those babies.

Sunday Afternoon

It's a classic!

Sunday afternoon.

What did anyone else have for lunch?

We had

Meat Loaf

Fresh Green Beans

Fresh Butter Beans

Fried Okra

Cornbread

Sweet Tea

Cherry/Pineapple Cobbler

Vanilla Ice Cream

I don't enjoy that kind of heavy food during the week, but I love it for Sunday lunch.

Only in the South we always called it Sunday dinner.

Roast, Rice, English Peas, Rolls and Sweet Tea

That's another favorite menu. Add to that Pear Salad...ahhhh. I love it. That would be two canned pear halves on a lettuce leaf, tiny dollop of mayo, topped with grated cheese.

Love pie for dessert on Sunday. Chocolate Meringue or Coconut Cream with Meringue. Or Egg Custard. I don't make egg custard pie very often but it's one of my favorites. As a child I declared it my favorite. Recently Ann requested that I make it. So I pulled out "the famous recipe". By that I mean it was Mrs. Snowden's recipe.

Mr. and Mrs. Snowden were our neighbors on our right, facing the street, Williams Street. They had 5 adult daughters. Well, one was still a teenager when we first lived there. I was only 3 so she seemed like an adult. She soon graduated and married and lived away. On the other side of Mr. and Mrs. Snowden lived Betty Ruth and Harry Engle and their two sons. The youngest, Harry Jr., was my age and we all called him Poonkey. He was really really short and I was tall for my age. But we were buddies and spent a lot of time at my house, at his house and at Mrs. Snowden's house.

In those days neighbors were very very very neighborly. Mother was so connected to all the ladies, every age, on our street. Our culture had not yet padlocked itself into its individual homes. For really good communication adults had to get outside the house and talk and invite one another over for coffee or a grilled hamburger in the summer. Or adults would just stand and talk while working in the yard and the kids would play. We were all over that street, the kids. And we watched all the houses go up and we played in and outside one another's homes. Mostly outside.

But about Mrs. Snowden and her recipe.

She made great Egg Custard Pie - the best. It was always thick and didn't settle down into a flat filling. We loved it and she knew we did. I guess when she made one she made several and she was generous to share it with us. Mrs. Snowden was especially good natured. So kind and pleasant - always smiling and in a really genuinely good mood. One evening we had had an early dinner. It might have been lunch, but I think it was an early summer dinner. Not yet dark and we, the four of us, Mother, Daddy, Mary Ann and I, were sitting around the table - having finished our meal and wishing for a good dessert. One of us, either myself or Mother, knew that Mrs. Snowden had been baking Egg Custard Pies that day - plural. Mom said almost in jest that she could send one of us over to borrow a cup of sugar or flour from Mrs. Snowden and we just knew she'd send some pie back along with the cup of whatever. I immediately volunteered to go over. I did. I knocked on her back screen door - I can just see her kitchen and the whole inside of her house. I love thinking about it and about her. She was so dear. Always a smile. I asked to borrow the cup of something and she eagerly got that and then grabbed a whole pie and sent it back with me. In I walked, through our back door, with that pie - Mother, Daddy, & Mary Ann were still sitting at the table waiting. Call us deceptive if you like - we just hated to come right out and go over and ask for the pie - but we knew her heart and that she'd love to give us some pie. We just didn't know how to ask that directly so we opened the way for her to just give it to us.

Years later, after many requests for her recipe, she finally relented. I don't think it was that she didn't want to give it to us - I just don't think she'd ever written it down. It seemed like she didn't really know the exact measurements - But she finally gave me the recipe and I'll share it here on my blog.

It's the very best - not so different from any other egg custard pie recipe - I think it's the "tight fistful" of flour that does the trick. You'll see:

Egg Custard Pie

Mrs. Snowden

6 eggs,

running over cup of sugar,

3 Tblsp butter, melted,

tight fistful of all purpose flour,

2 3/4 cup of milk,

1 tsp vanilla(can use lemon flavoring, too)

Make a pastry shell - unbaked

pour filling into unbaked shell

Bake at 450 degrees for 20 min. Reduce oven to 350 degrees and bake about 15 or 20 minutes longer, until knife inserted in center comes out clean.

Mrs. Snowden, on that day she told me the ingredients, I didn't even have pen and paper - Mother and Mary Ann were with me and all three had to commit to memory the ingredients. She didn't tell me the baking time - I looked that up under other egg custard pies. She just called out those ingredients. I think she guesstimated the ingredients when she gave an exact measurement. She'd say, "ooohhh, about....." and then she would say the amount. I think I'm right that we committed all of that to memory. I know I didn't have pen and paper with me or maybe just had a scrap of something and a pen or perhaps wrote it on my hand. I was scrambling because I'd wanted this recipe for soooo long. It was like gold to me.

It's a great pie.