Archive | August, 2012

Things I Learned Today

30 Aug

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

We are blessed to be able to divide our time between the beautiful mountains of North Carolina and the tropical beauty and pleasant winters of Florida. On Sunday we kissed the grandchildren goodbye  and on Tuesday we hit the highway for Florida.       By the time we arrived I was pretty sure one of those sweet grandchildren had gifted me with a summer cold. So, at the moment I am miserable  but fortunately I have a nice piece of writing by Jacob Leitzinger tucked away for just such a time.

Things I Learned Today 

Jacob Leitzinger

 
Make the protein shake BEFORE the workout and store it in your fridge.
You ever try to open one of those “Protein Powder” things right after a workout? They make it seem like you need to be working out. They’re REALLY tough to open
Add the protein powder AFTER the milk. Otherwise, you get clumps.
And finally: working out is hard.

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Another Road Trip- El Paso

29 Aug

A Slice of Life

    Bill Lites

I was 17 and I was in love.  At least  I thought I was in love.  I had been going steady with Barbara for many months and we spent every minute we could  together.  We just knew we were a perfect match because our parents approved of our choices; we enjoyed each other’s company and liked the same things.  Then the worst thing we could imagine happened.  Her father’s job transferred him to El Paso, Texas and we were separated.  What were we going to do?  We had to think of something.  But what?

 

Barbara and I talked it over during many phone calls and then I got the bright idea.  With our parent’s approval, I’d ride my 1955 Harley Davidson motorcycle down there and see her.  I’d stay at their house and they would show me the sights.  It was only a 265-mile trip and I figured I could make that in about 4 or 5 hours.  So, why not, I asked my mother?  I’d been safely riding motorcycles since I was 14 and was still in one piece.  This was another one of those teenage trips that I somehow talked my parents into.

When all the details had been worked out, I headed South that Friday morning, on what was then US-85 by way of the southern New Mexico desert.  The trip took me thru the small towns of Los Lunas, Socorro, Truth or Concequences, Hatch, and Las Cruces.  After stopping for lunch and bathroom breaks, it took me longer than I had planned, but I finally made into the big city of El Paso, Texas.

It took me a while, but I finally found Barbara’s house and was welcomed  in by her whole family.  After dinner, Barbara and I took a walk around the neighborhood and she told me what she and parents had planned for the weekend.  Saturday they showed me the many sights of El Paso and then they took me across the border to Juarez, Mexico for a visit to the “Old Mexico” way of life and tourism.  That’s where they put Barbara and me in their “Old Jail” for our picture.

Sunday we all went to their church and then back to their home for a great lunch.  Then it was time for me to head for home.  After we said our good-bys, I reluctantly headed back North on US-85.  With all the excitement of the weekend and the big lunch, I began to get sleepy after a couple of hours.  The constant drumming of the motorcycle engine and whistling of the wind in my ears didn’t help matters.  I did everything I could think of to stay awake, talked to myself, sang to myself, stopped at rest areas to splash cold water on my face, all to no avail.

The next thing I knew, I woke up, on the wrong side of the road, headed for the ditch at 60 mph.  It’s a good thing it was Sunday and traffic was almost non-existent on that stretch of road or I might have ended up as road kill that day.  After I recovered, the incident had pumped enough adrenaline into me to keep me awake for the rest of the trip.  I had a hard time thanking God and my guardian angel enough for saving me from a really bad day.

Psalm 16:8

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Book Modus Operendi

27 Aug

 

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

My mom says I was carrying books around and asking someone to read to me when I learned to walk. They have always been a major passion for me. I’ve hauled home so many books from the library that I can’t even take a count of them. My grown daughter once said, “You were a good mother, when ever we wanted to talk to you, you put your book down, and listened.” My own mother might not quite agree, many a time there was when I burned the dinner I was supposed to be watching because I “had my nose in a book.”

I always thought it would be the berries to be able to buy brand-new hardcover books from the bookstore, and I’ve allowed myself new hardcover references, because, after all, we don’t read those and then leave them on the shelves unused. That is, we didn’t until we started to look up everything under the sun on the internet and then reference tomes took a back seat. Sometimes when I walk past a bookshelf, I hear them calling, “me, me, me.”

Now I buy used hardcover books at libraries and thrift stores and if I can get large print, I do. We have a Dollar Tree in town that sells beautiful brand-new hard cover books for one dollar, so in that way a dream has come true. As for contents, I try to choose carefully, I look at the title, the cover picture and the picture of the author, I peruse the insides of the cover and the back and start reading page one. If I feel compelled to turn the page, I buy the book. But even then only some turn out to be good reads. Sometimes I drag through one, barely enjoying it, and at other times I give up.

After I’m through with a novel, I give it away, either to someone I think will like it or as a donation to the library. I don’t know whether they incorporate it into the stacks or not, sometimes I see my cast-offs in a book sale.

My friend, Onisha, who does all the hard work to send the blogs for www.oldthingsrnew.com, does most of her reading on her laptop computer. She can even lie on her side and read it in bed. She finds many free and low cost books there. She’s convinced that print books are on their way out. I’m not ready to admit that yet. Anyhow, if they are on their way out I want to have a stash of them to fall back on.

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Yikes!

23 Aug

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

Yikes! It is 10pm and I have nothing to blog about. Well, of course I have thoughts but they haven’t gelled yet. Last week I canned peaches and this week I canned vegetable soup and apple sauce. I think I may have put all my creativity into Mason jars. I think I should get a pass this week because, are you ready……….Friday is my birthday and it’s a BIG one. I am not telling which big one, but trust me, it’s big. In fact it is so big, I am leaving town. We are heading to Atlanta to pick up our daughter then it’s two days of shopping and dining out. If that doesn’t make a gal feel better about her birthday, I don’t know what will.

While I am busy celebrating and eating Chinese food, yes Chinese for my birthday, why don’t you mull this question and leave me your thoughts, who destroyed truth, the person/organization that lied or you and I , the people who are too lazy or intimidated to call out the person/organization? Why is truth important to you?

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Stolen Rocket

22 Aug

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

When my son was six-years-old I was working on America’s Manned Space Program and at the time I thought it would be great fun for my son and I to build and launch model rockets.  We purchased a couple of small basic models and put them together.  We took them to the local school yard to fly them and we always drew a crowd of kids who wanted to watch and help us retrieve the spent rockets.

They flew very well and it was so much fun that we began to expand our new hobby by designing our own rockets and launching them.  One day the launches were going great when the wind picked up and carried the parachute and rocket across the street into the nearby neighborhood where it landed in the front yard of one of the houses.  As we were hurrying over to retrieve our rocket, a young boy came out of the house, picked up the rocket and ran back into the house.  I was stunned!  Did he not see us coming to get it?  Did he think finders – keepers?  Whatever he thought, it didn’t matter, it was our rocket and we wanted it back.

When I rang the doorbell, a man opened the door and asked how he could help us.  I explained what had happened and told him we were there to claim our rocket.  He said he didn’t know anything about any rocket, but would ask his son.  Well, when confronted the boy admitted what he had done and the rocket was returned to us with an apology.

My son and I enjoyed many years of flying our model rockets, but after our “Stolen Rocket” adventure, we were very careful to launch our rockets only when there was no wind to carry them out of the schoolyard parameter.

Exodus 20:15
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My Favorite Author and Other Important Matters

19 Aug

My Take

 DiVoran Lites

 

My all time favorite author is D.E. Stevenson and I believe she is still www.oldthingsrnew.com, blog mistress, Onisha’s all time favorite too. D. E. Stevenson’s father was first cousin to Robert Louis Stevenson. Many of her books have been long out of print, but Persephone is beginning to publish her again. This I find true: “Her books are avidly sought by discerning readers throughout the English-speaking world: readers who appreciate endearing characters, familiar yet intriguing situations, and darn good stories,” from the D. E. Stevenson official website. She was born in 1892 and died in 1977 at eighty-one years of age. She is buried in the Moffat cemetery on the Edinburgh road. I was in Scotland once and got to walk around the outside of the two-story, Victorian house she lived in. I think it should be a museum.

Her books are an exception to my routine of giving novels away. I made a grand effort to collect as many as I could find. I now have thirty-eight of forty-three. For a long time I was able to buy her books at garage sales and used bookstores, but eventually she became rare. I do read them all through every five years or so. It’s unusual for me to read a book more than once, so that shows you how much I enjoy them. She wrote about love, people, houses, and families.

If I read about books that sound good or if I particularly enjoy an author I try to order the books from the library system. I’m not sure all counties have the arrangement we have, but you can look at the online card catalog and find books and no matter where they actually live in the county you can order them and they’ll be sent to your local library for pick-up. I’m only ordering one or two at a time now and that gives me plenty of time in the three weeks allowed to finish them and get them back.

 

DiVoran is correct. D.E. Stevenson continues to be my all-time favorite author. I love the music of her words, the kindness and insight of her characters. If anyone knows an author of a similar caliber, please share with me.-Onisha

 

 

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Speak Up Saturday- About Booze

18 Aug

Speak Up Saturday

Introducing Bev’s Tall Tales by Bev

Last winter we had a group called, “Ten Minutes Stories,” where we each picked a word and wrote about it spontaneously for ten minutes. This short piece came from Bev, a woman who had experience with family members’ drinking. It is from her point of view, but I know many people who have loved ones, and have lost loved ones in the same deep hole. May this small writing help express the pain and frustration of loving (and despairing of ) people in our lives who are addicted to dangerous, unhealthy substances such as drugs and alcohol. DiVoran

Bev’s Tall Tales

About Booze

Booze, whiskey, toddy, cocktails, drinks…the list goes on; the word defines who we are. Cocktails? That’s a social elitist word for drink. Old fashioned terms for a drinker are: boozer, down and out drunk, wino, AA candidate, but won’t admit it yet and many others. (See, The Definitive Drinker’s Dictionary, which contains 2,964 other terms to describe the condition.

Alone? What better place to strike up a conversation than at a bar. Even if you never utter a word there’s always comfort in hearing the din, the bartender taking an order, the jukebox bellowing out smooth and swaying music or hard rock and roll. My brother always found the bars to be a place of comfort; a place where everybody knew his name.

Unfortunately, booze can rob you of your soul, a perfectly sweet, gentle, kind woman becomes a foul-mouthed, vicious rampaging madwoman, a kind, and caring man becomes a belt swinging hitter and beater of the tiniest child. Booze becomes cocktails in a civilized living room setting; voices get softer, quieter in a bar until the third drink then it equals out–ALL BOOZERS.

Proverbs 23:35

 

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Touching Memories

16 Aug

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

 I was unloading the dishwasher on Sunday, not my favorite job, when I realized I was taking a particular pleasure in putting away a cereal bowl. It’s not anything special to look at, a white melamine bowl with a light blue rim decorated with dark blue and purple abstract seagulls. The inside of the bowl has a lighthouse with clouds and more birds. If you saw it at a garage sale you would offer ten cents to take it home for a cat dish.  What makes this bowl special is the memories associated with it’s use, memories of our RV days, crossing the country by day and cozy nights.

I’ve noticed it’s not just the bowl that evokes these feelings and it’s not related to just the age of an item. I love running my fingers along furniture my mom rescued from someone’s trash and restored as well as the shiny green surface of the plates we bought at IKEA when we were setting up our mountain home.

I think it is magical to be able to touch or see an object and experience once again the memories those items created. I wonder if that is why I love to touch in the antique stores.

 

Philippians 1:3

 

 

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A Boy, A Bike and Summer

15 Aug

 

 

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

 

 

 

The summer between my junior and senior years of high school I was itching to get away from home and explore the freedom of the open road.  How I talked my parents into letting me go on this wild idea of a trip I’ll never know, but they finally agreed and all was set.  They were not about to help me with this plan, but that was okay with me as I had my own money and transportation.  I loaded everything I thought I might need for a one-month stay into one small suitcase, strapped it onto the back of my 1955 Harley Davidson motorcycle and off I went.

 

 

 

The place I had chosen for this trip was about 185 miles from my home and was known for its moneymaking oil industry.  The plan was to get a job as a roustabout on an oilrig, make lots of money, and come home after a month or two and show my folks that I could do it on my own.  Well, as you might expect, the plan didn’t work out exactly as I had envisioned it.

 

 

 

 

I made the trip in good time and found a place to stay.  The next day I went to the oil company employment office to ask for a job.  The guy at the desk almost laughed out loud when he took a look at this 6’0” 125 lb. kid who thought he was going to tough-it-out on the oil rigs with those experienced 200+ lb. oil rig brutes.  Besides that, they couldn’t hire anyone under 18 years old, and I would have to prove that I was that old.  So there I was only two days into my great adventure, with no job and no way to pay for my lodgings, but I wasn’t ready to go home with my tail between my legs, either.

 

I don’t remember all the places I looked for work, but I ended up packing fruit in a terribly hot and dusty fruit processing plant for minimum wage (what a let down).

I have no idea how it happened, but a local church family took pity on me and charged me very little for room and board to stay in one of their extra rooms. At some point, I met the pastor’s daughter and her friends so I spent a lot of my off hours running around with them. The legal drinking age was 21 at that time, so that also helped keep me out of trouble.  When the fruit picking/packing season ran out there were no more jobs to be had for a skinny teenager, so I packed up my few things, loaded my motorcycle in the empty 18 wheeler trailer that was going my way, and was delivered back to my home a little wiser and a lot more tired than when I left.

 

What did I learn from this adventure? I learned to listen to my parents’ advice before I ran off to try and do my own thing.

 

 

 

Ephesians 6:1

 

 

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Knowing

13 Aug

 

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Here’s something I understood God to be saying to me after pondering and reading I Corinthians 8:3

I planned every step of your life and your children’s lives. I knit all of you in your mother’s wombs, but even before that, I was drawing the schematic for every day of your life. Yes, I did allow troubles to happen, but many of them were the results of subconscious choices you made so that you could go your own way instead of mine. You do have free choice after all.

Here’s a scripture from The Message:

We never really know enough until we know that God knows it all.

Some words from Isaiah 55: 8-13 to back it up.

“I don’t think the way you think.

The way you work, isn’t the way I work.

For as the sky soars high above earth,

So the way I work and the way I think is beyond the way you think.”

Isaiah 55: 8-13

Now I’m thinking that I’d love to hear God’s exciting ideas and experience His surprises, so here’s what I’ll do. I’ll ask, I’ll listen, and I’ll move along with him. I can hardly wait to see what happens. Would you like to try it? It’s free.

 

 

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