Anne with an E & Other Old Friends

It is raining today, and that's the perfect excuse for curling up on the sofa to read a good book or watch a favorite movie--one that's been read or watched so many times, it's as comfortable as my old beige sweater, the one that belonged to my mother. 

I bought a weathered paperback copy of Anne of Green Gables at the GW (Goodwill) a few weeks ago. But, instead of reading it today (with only four hours of sleep last night), I think I'll pull out my old VHS videos instead.  Should I nod off and wake in the middle, it's so familiar I can quickly pick up the story line again.  I wish my mom was still alive to watch with me.  She loved Anne (with an e) almost as much as I do. 

My love of reading came from her...from nursery rhymes and fairy tales, the Boxcar Children, Man O' War, the Black Stallion series, and every other horse book in the elementary school library.  Other old friends are the characters from Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver's Travels, Anne of Green Gables, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, and the Secret Garden.  Although we didn't have much money, I had subscriptions to Highlights and Calling All Girls magazines.  I'm not sure where we got them, but I spent hours poring through an old set of Childcraft Encyclopedias.  In the 1980's, my oldest son spent hours studying the Statue of Liberty, Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, and President John F. Kennedy in our World Book Encyclopedias.  The books were looked at so often, the pages would automatically fall open to his favorite subjects.

I have a book that was a gift to my mother from an elementary school teacher, inscribed with a note encouraging her to continue reading.  It's an obscure title, "Cornelli, Her Childhood" by Johanna Spyrie, author of Heidi.  The cover is off, and it's held together with rubber bands.  Mom read it to me as a child.  It's the story of a sullen child who, because of her constant frowning, was convinced she had horns growing out of her forehead.  When I was disciplined and pouted, I remember being told, "You'd better watch out, your face might freeze like that!" or "If you stick your lip out any further, you're going to step on it."  I guess these hyperboles were parents' reminders to "straighten up" your behavior.   

Although she couldn't have realized it at the time, my mom's teacher's encouragement to keep reading now reaches out to another generation.  My granddaughter Madi, at five, is already a lover of books.  We are, after all, kindred spirits.



Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Daddy Dearly Loved to Laugh

Daddy Dearly Loved to Laugh

Today, July 29, 2011, marks the fifth year since my daddy died of complications from heart disease and diabetes.  My brother and I sat beside his hospital bed laughing and talking about our childhood years while Daddy slept.  It seems befitting that's what we were doing when he took his last breath, because like Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudice, he "dearly loved a laugh".

Both he and his brother David were practical jokers at heart.  Coarse as it was, at one time or another an unsuspecting friend or relative fell prey to their Whoopee cushions, fake dog poo, or vomit.     

Daddy scared my Aunt Ollie and Aunt Jeanette half to death with the "Wild African Mongoose" he got from his brother, David.  The "mongoose" was actually a squirrel tail partially hidden in a compartment of a cage, similar to a bunny hutch.  The object of the joke was told, "the mongoose is sleeping, but you can poke him with this stick to wake him up".  When poked, the cage door flies open and a spring sends the squirrel tail flying...much to the surprise of the person being pranked.  Of course, Daddy thought it was hilarious!  But my dear aunts, along with others I feel sure, were mad as Carolina hornets at him, and rightly so. 

Another of his favorite pranks was the disappearing water trick.  Just ask any of the grandchildren about that one.  I'm sure they remember it well...or ice cream cones with cottage cheese...yuck!

My brother reminded me recently of the "urban legend" my Dad liked to tell on his brother, David.  When they were young, and someone died, their bodies were not viewed in a funeral home as they are today.  The were "laid out" out home, usually in the living room for friends and relatives to come and "view the body". 

Since embalming wasn't performed, quarters were placed on the eyes of the "dearly departed" to keep them closed.  The legend goes that Daddy and Uncle David were walking home from a "viewing" when Uncle David asked, "What do you think those quarters on his eyes were for?", to which my Dad replied, "To pay his way across the River Jordan".  Uncle Dave replied back, "Then I guess he'll have to swim, because I stole those two quarters!" 

Oh, Daddy...thanks for the good memories.  I dearly love to laugh, too!

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

John Kasay - Must all good things end?

I hate the expression, "All good things must come to an end."  It's such a pessimistic point of view.  However, the prediction was realized today with the announcement that John Kasay, twenty year veteran kicker--sixteen years with the Charlotte Panthers, was fired.  Kasay, the last original Charlotte Panther, will be replaced with 38 year-old Olindo Mare of the Seattle Seahawks.    

When athletes as role models are hard to come by, John Kasay stands apart with humbleness regarding his athletic abilities, but boldness when it comes to his faith in Jesus Christ.  John Kasey is not ashamed to let others know he is a Christian, and lives the life to back it up.  When extra-marital affairs, drunk driving arrests, drug usage, and domestic disputes are commonplace among professional athletes, it is refreshing to find someone whose life can be a positive example to the younger generation.

According to TheGoal.com, John Kasay gave his life to Christ just before his senior year in college.  He is quoted as saying, "Once I established a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, my priorities began to change. Instead of playing for my own selfish gain, I wanted to honor the Lord by giving my best effort and conducting myself in a manner that would glorify Him - win or lose!"

Kasay also said, "....no matter what happens on the field, God still loves me, and even when I go through tough times, He's with me, and I can experience His peace."

Although it's true some good things must come to an end; Kasay and other Christians can take comfort in knowing when life does not make sense, and difficulties come, God's peace is available to us and His love never ends.  We'll miss you, Mr. Kasay.  You are a class act.

  
Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Reference:  TheGoal.com

Lesson Learned from a Bee?

I think I'm getting acclimated to this July weather.  We've had so many days with over 90 degree temperatures that this morning's 87 degrees feels almost cool.  Almost.... 

Taking advantage of the slightly cooler weather, I decided to clean up the flower beds a little.  It has been so hot that I haven't had much desire to be outside for more than a few minutes at a time.  The weeds have begun to take over, and the spent blooms are looking pretty sad.  Our goldfinches won't like me very much since I clipped most of the dried blooms from the cone flowers.  They seem to be their favorite meal this summer. 

While pulling dried stems from the day lilies, I felt a sharp stick on my right index finger.  Looking for a stinger with a bee still attached, I quickly pulled back my hand only to see a small red dot on my finger.  How can something so tiny, hurt SO MUCH!  I went inside and tried to remember what my sons' pediatrician told me years ago about bee stings.  I think he said meat tenderizer would break down bee venom.  I don't have meat tenderizer...we eat our steak tough.

Well, I'm not sure this was a bee sting.  In recent years, the fire ants have moved steadily northward and we have seen their tell-tale hills in our yard.  Maybe it was a spider...or a snake, perish the thought!  All these wild imaginings began to run through my mind.  If it was a snake, he only had one tooth, so I think I'll rule that out. 

Okay, Laney, what are you going to do?  Then I spy a fresh lime on the counter that I had planned to use to make salsa.  I cut it and start squeezing lime juice all over my finger and hand.  I'm home alone...what if I go into anaphylactic shock?  Look for a Benadryl...took what I thought was a Benadryl then called the pharmacist.  "Can I take more than one Benadryl when it says to only take two in a 24 hour period?"  "What", asks the pharmacist, "are you sure you took Benadryl?  The package should say you can take one or two every four hours"...."No, the one I took says one every twelve hours...oh,....sorry...it's not Benadryl.  Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Pharmacist."

So, I call my husband and ask him to check on me every few hours to see if I'm still breathing.  At the same time, I am stuffing my finger inside a lime.  Ouch...that paper cut from yesterday is really burning.  It's overshadowing the pain from the mysterious sting or bite.  Okay, now I'll surround the whole thing with a cool wrap from the freezer, then sit down and wait to die.

Well, as you can see, I didn't die...yet.  The swelling has subsided, along with most of the pain.  Lesson learned:  wear garden gloves, don't stick my hand in someone else's business, clean out medicine cabinet, limes have multiple uses.  Shopping list addition....a funky pair of reading glasses.


Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Dandelion Gossip

Have you noticed in the springtime how lemony-yellow blooms pop up overnight in the lawn?  They seem perfectly harmless, but those yellow blooms are dandelions, a weed with a taproot similar to a carrot.  When left to its own devices, dandelions will take over and choke out your beautiful grass.

Shortly after those blooms appear, they shoot up a stalk, which in turn becomes a fuzzy seed head.  Most children like to pick, blow or shake them, and watch the seeds float away on the breeze.  When they land, they take root and make more dandelions, which produce more seed heads, and so on, and so on, the cycle goes.

Gossip is like dandelions.  A story is heard, then repeated to someone else, who repeats it to someone else.  Many times the story is changed along the way, or the persons repeating the story don't even know whether or not the story is true, and they don't bother finding out before repeating it.  But once a tale is told, whether true or not, it becomes like the dandelion seeds.  It's spread to the wind and it cannot be retrieved.  The damage is done; seeds of doubt have been planted, and someone's character and reputation may have been ruined, without the opportunity to defend themselves. 

Speak truth, not speculation; do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  This is good advice for me and for others as well.  I don't want to be a dandelion gossip.   

Proverbs 6:16-19 "There are six things that the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers."


Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney   

Be Still and Know

At our house we have a very bad habit.  Walk in door, grab remote, turn on TV.  It doesn't matter if there is nothing worthwhile to watch, there must be noise.  We go from den to living room, turn on second TV;  we leave room, the TV stays on with no one in the room.  In the car, the radio absolutely must be on...usually cranked up.

I think sometimes the need for noise in our lives is Satan's not so subtle way of allowing us to drown out the still, small voice of God.  Is it that we subconsciously don't want to hear God speak?  Maybe we know what He might say if we take the time to listen.  Is He sad that we are too busy with things that won't matter in eternity, things that probably won't even matter next week to spend time talking with Him, learning from Him, listening to Him, and reading His guidebook for our lives? 

In the biblical account of Mary and Martha, I can most certainly identify with Martha.  She had company coming for dinner.  She wanted her house to be in order, the table set for her guests.  There was food to be prepared and served.  And there sat her sister, Mary, at the feet of Jesus, while she was left to do it all alone.  If I were Martha, I would have been a little more than upset with her.  I would have been steaming mad!  Didn't she realize these guests had to be fed?  So she said to Jesus, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her to  help me."

But what did Jesus say in reply?  He said, "Martha, Martha, you are careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her."

Jesus' time on earth was short, and Mary was spending time at his feet, listening to Him, learning from Him while her sister was more concerned with how the house looked, or whether the meal was served on time.  Did she not know that Jesus could feed thousands with just a few fish and a loaf of bread?  He could turn water into wine.  He didn't need her work.  He wanted Martha's worship, her praise, and her heart!  He wants our worship, our praise and our heart, too. 

Psalm 46:10 -"He says, Be still and know that I am God.  I will be exalted among the nations.  I will be exalted in all the earth."

God doesn't always speak in a loud, booming voice.  It might be in a quiet whisper.  Are you listening?  Can you hear Him, or is the noise of life getting in the way? - Selah

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney


   

Small Town America



Although I have lived all but eight years of my life in the largest city of our state, my life, my roots, began in Small Town, America. 

There were no malls, Kmart, Walmart, or Target stores.  People dressed up and went "downtown".  At Christmastime, we went to "see the lights" and my parents shopped for gifts at the tire store.  I think it was Pep Boys or the Firestone Store.  Not only did they sell tires and automotive parts, they also sold home appliances, bicycles, wagons, and toys.

Kress, Efird's, Matthews-Belk, and Woolworth's (my grandma called it the "Dime Store" were located downtown.  The best hotdogs ever were eaten while spinning round and round on a bar stool at the drugstore counter.  The best ice cream came from Tony's.  Mom's favorite was butter pecan and mine was grape.  They are still in business today.  There are a few things in life that never change.

Sadly, during the late 1950's and early 1960's, there were restrooms and water fountains labeled "White Only" and "Colored".  I remember playing with my first black friend in Efird's.  Children then, and now, bridge racial barriers so much easier than adults.

Gold or green stamps were given by merchants for purchases at gas stations and grocery stores.  I helped Mom lick 'em and stick 'em in coupon books which, when filled, could be redeemed for prizes.  My first fashion doll  (lovingly called, My Fake Barbie) came from the Gold Stamp Store.  I still have her, along with an American Tourister suitcase my Mom redeemed with stamps after we moved to the "big city". That red suitcase went lots of fun places with me as a teenager and beyond.  It now holds sweet memories of the past.

 

In Small Town, America, my brothers and I attended elementary school with students from first through eighth grade.  Kids at our school were so smart they didn't need kindergarten.  My brothers each attended there for all eight years and I attended two before we moved to the city.  Our principal's name was Mr. Bess.  Corporal punishment with a paddle was used for unruly boys...and if you got one at school, you could expect another one at home.  I've been told my cousin was well acquainted with Mr. Bess's "seat of instruction".  I was terrified of him, although I'm sure he was a very nice man.

My favorite part of school was recess, fresh doughnuts made by Mrs. Capps (the lunch lady), and banana popsicles purchased after school.  If you had a really good friend, you could break it in half down the middle and share it while waiting for the school bus.


Can you imagine tenth, eleventh, and twelfth graders driving buses filled with elementary students today?  Were students more mature then?  I don't know the answer to that question, but my brother was my school bus driver, and I lived to tell about it!

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

 

 

Mosquitoes - The Scourge of Earth

I opened the door this morning to let my 90 pound lab mix outside.  Not one toe touched the deck.  I sat on the sofa, turned on the computer to check my emails and felt an itch on my right arm.  I looked down and saw--not one, but two, mosquito bite welts.  How could this be?  I didn't even step all the way outside.  I just opened the door! 

I think they have been studying my new morning routine and have decided I am the "Breakfast of Champions" for the mosquito world.  But it doesn't have to be breakfast.  If I am in the company of ten people out of doors, I am always their first choice for a snack.  They come from miles around...their radars honed in on this Southern girl's essence. 

Laney's Mosquito Suit

Last night hubby told me he's buying me one of those new devices that clip to your clothes to keep mosquitoes at bay.  I hope it works, because they just lick off Cutter, or find the quarter inch I missed with the spray.  And Deep Woods Off doesn't seem to work much better. 

All I can say is, "Thank you, Mr. Noah!"  It's all your fault that we have these blood-thirsty vermin that make my life miserable.  When they appeared at the door of the ark, you should have slammed it shut.  But I think I've found a solution to my problem.  I'm gettin' me one of these.  What do you think?


Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Breast Cancer Awareness

July 20/2011

Today I will go with my sister-in-law for her last chemotherapy treatment for breast cancer.  Although radiation will follow, we must celebrate each step in the journey to conquer this beast.

Several years ago, I went to a ladies meeting at my daughter-in-law's church.  The guest speaker was a breast cancer awareness advocate.  The meeting included lunch, and eight ladies were at each table.  At the end of her presentation, the speaker asked one woman at each table to stand.  With around 300 women present, almost 40 stood.  The speaker told us that 1 in 8 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in her lifetime.  I had no idea the odds were so high, so the visual example as I looked around the room was shocking.   

At that time I didn't know anyone with breast cancer.  In the past five years, four women that I am close to have been diagnosed.  My son's mother-in-law, Kaye; Martha, a dear friend from work, my husband's cousin, Barbara; and in February of this year, my sister-in-law, Pat, was diagnosed.  Sadly, Barbara, lost her battle against a very aggressive form of breast cancer. 

One in eight..these are frightening statistics.  Although none of us like mammograms, or remembering to do monthly self-exams, they are currently our only way of detecting a cancerous tumor early enough to be treated successfully.  If you are 40 or older and have never been screened, call and make an appointment.  If you are 40 or older and it's been more than a year since your last screening, call and make an appointment.  If you are younger than 40, do monthly self-exams, and if you have high risk factors, talk with your physician about when you should begin screenings. 

I waited seven years between screenings.  I probably would have waited even longer if my sister-in-law had not been diagnosed.  It was a foolish risk I shouldn't have taken.  In April, I got an all-clear, but only after a call-back scare, and a second more intensive screening.  The reality of it is, I could have waited too long.  Don't make the same mistake. 

Thirty minutes of your day could save your life.  Get screened and pray for your sisters that are in the fight of their lives."


Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney 

Southern Hospitality

Southern Hospitality

My Aunt Lottie was the epitome of Southern hospitality.  She was the oldest of three daughters in a family of nine, my mother being the youngest daughter and eighth child.  She and my Uncle Clayton lived in a typical white frame mill house within walking distance of the cotton mill where they were employed.  As a child, I spent lots of time visiting at their house.

Back then, people dropped by without first calling to ask if a visit was convenient or if you had other plans.  If no one was home, a note was left on the door that you had dropped by.  Even if they wanted to call first, some of our family members didn't have telephones, including my grandparents.

Aunt Lottie and Uncle Clayton always seemed glad to receive visitors.  Usually, the first question would be, "Have you eaten?" followed by, "Let me get you a glass of tea?"  Sweet tea was never refrigerated at their house, probably because the sweet, syrupy mixture didn't last long enough to spoil.  Aunt Lottie must have kept the door-to-door tea salesman in business.  She had lots of Hall Autumn Leaf china pieces, including tea pitchers and teapots which were sold exclusively through Jewel Tea Company.

I remember swinging on their front porch, or sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, drinking iced tea from brightly colored aluminum tumblers, dripping with condensation on a hot day.  In the living room, the men carried on lively conversations about politics and religion.  My mom called it arguing; the men called it discussing.

Uncle Clayton had a ruddy complexion, often wore a cowboy hat and a big smile.  He was the family photographer, with his own darkroom.  I was fascinated by the process, seeing the prints hanging to dry after coming out of the developing chemicals.  To my recollection, he and Aunt Lottie owned the first color television in the family, another reason why we loved to visit.  Uncle Clayton was a die-hard Republican who died, too young, of a heart attack at the age of 56.

Aunt Lottie's house was also where my mom and I often went for haircuts and body waves.  My cousin Linda, a barber, cut our hair and Aunt Lottie or cousin Hazel gave the permanents.  I can still remember playing with the little multi-colored plastic perm rods, and the distinctive ammonia smell of the permanent solution.

In the twenty-first century, we communicate with extended family by phone, email, or social networking.  But you know, I really think my parents' way was best...Southern hospitality, unhurried visits, table talk, and a tall glass of sweet iced tea.


Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Final Letter to My Mom

On July 13, my mom would have been 91 year old.  I've been thinking of her a lot the past few days so I decided to open the "dreaded scrapbook" this morning.  Six years ago, I made a scrapbook of sympathy cards, poems, letters, song lyrics, and Bible verses that gave me comfort during those weeks following her death.  I don't often open it, it's just too painful.  But I know some family members and friends who have experienced losses in their lives recently, and I hope they know I am here if they need a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on.  I've been there, and I understand.

The following letter, written six years ago, is extremely personal.  But I wasn't then, and I am not now, ashamed to express my love for the best mother in the world.  If your mother is still living, you are indeed blessed.  Let her know how much you love her. 

"Dear Mom,

I know this is a letter you'll never read.  But now that your journey's ended, there are thoughts I need to record. 

From my earliest memories, you were there.  I still remember being safely carried on your hip...pushed by you in the tree swing...hand in hand walks.  You nurtured my imagination, and filled my heart with a love of music, poetry, and books.

You taught me how to climb a tree, even though Dad didn't approve.  I loved watching you sew, although the art wasn't passed down to me.  My left-handedness always got in the way.  You let me play dress up in your clothes and jewelry, and didn't get tired of me knocking on the door..."Come in Miss Jones", you'd say.

I remember how you would feed Mr. Tom without complaint when he conveniently dropped by at dinner time.  I'm sure the old man was lonely and probably had no food to eat at his house.  Whatever the reason, by your actions, you taught me compassion.

Through the years when friends complained about their relationships with their mothers, I couldn't relate.  You were always understanding and supportive. When I waited until the last minute to complete a school project, you would stay up with me until I finished.

When I went a little crazy at 18, you told me you felt as if you'd lost your best friend.  Wow, that hurt...I still remember it after almost 35 years.  The fact that I didn't want to disappoint you and Dad kept me out of a lot of trouble.

Even though you never worked outside of the home, you encouraged me to excel in the workplace.  I think you took pride in the fact that your daughter had opportunities not available to most women of your day.

Although  I know you were happy when I met my Bob and married, I know you were sad when I left home.  The wedding photographer captured the look...perhaps what all moms feel when their babies fly from the nest.  That empty feeling..."Okay, what do I do now?  I don't know how to be anything but a mother!"  I understand so much more now.

Four years later, I was a mom, too.  When I was left alone with Daniel that first day, I was scared to death.  And then you were there, reassuring me that I would be okay.  Oh, how you loved to rock all the grand babies.  Jennifer, then Karen, Susan, Bill, Daniel...finally Eric.  You had to hold him down to rock.

Until Susan mentioned it recently, I had forgotten how you sang "MaMaw's Baby" to the tune of "Come Thou Fount of Many Blessings".  When Susan went to church, she was surprised to hear them playing "MaMaw's Lullaby"...that reassured her she was where she needed to be.  I know if there are babies in Heaven, you are happiest in a rocking chair with a lap full!

Mom, I have no regrets when I think of our mother-daughter relationship.  I know you loved me, unconditionally.  I hope you are proud of the woman and mother I've become.  I'm far from perfect, but any good in me there may be, I'd like to attribute to your example.  You loved Jesus, and weren't ashamed to let that be known.  Thank you for showing me THE WAY.  I will see you again someday.

I love you,

Elaine"

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Cowbirds-Welfare Recipients & Deadbeat Parents

All points bulletin!  Have you seen this bird?  Some may find him beautiful, with his brown head and iridescent black feathers.  But don't let those black, beady eyes fool you.  He's a dangerous home invader!   

I'm learning more about birds, their names, what they like to eat, in order to lure more songbirds to the backyard.  We've had quite a few bright yellow goldfinches this summer.  They like to perch and eat dried cone flower seed heads.  They are so lightweight that the flower stems don't even bend while they are eating.

The cardinals love sunflower seeds, and the small finches like Nyjer (thistle) seed.  The mourning doves will scrounge on the ground for anything that gets kicked out by the smaller birds.  Our hummingbirds have returned.  They love our Rose of Sharon, garden phlox, and butterfly bush, in addition to the hummingbird feeder's sugar-water mixture.

My favorite birds to watch are definitely the bluebirds.  They are shy birds, usually perching on our fence or the top of their nest box late in the afternoon.  Since bluebirds feed on insects and berries, they never visit the feeder.  

Yesterday my husband saw a brown hawk perched on the roof of our neighbor's house, checking out the birds in our yard.  We've seen him before, and although I know his intentions are not honorable, he is lovely to look at.  Hawks have their place in the food chain, which could mean some of our songbirds may be sacrificed if they don't fly fast enough or can't find a place to hide.  I do hope the hawk prefers mice or snakes to songbirds, though.

I know God created all birds, but there are some that I literally hate.  I open the door and clap my hands to scatter them when they appear.  It's those disgusting, noisy starlings, grackles, and brown-headed blackbirds. 

The brown-headed blackbird is called a "Cowbird".  They have the terrible reputation of being brood parasites.  In other words, cowbirds are lazy.  They lay eggs in nests they didn't build.  They don't sit on the eggs they lay, expecting other birds to incubate, feed, and raise their young.  They are welfare dependent, deadbeat parents!  Sounds vaguely familiar, doesn't it? 

If a host bird recognizes the cowbird's egg as an intruder and destroys it, the vengeful cowbird may return, ravage the nest, and destroy all of the host bird's eggs.  Often baby cowbirds are such voracious eaters, the host bird's own babies are crowded out of the nest and die. 

Mr. Cowbird, you are indeed a nasty bird, and you are not welcome in my backyard.  Please move on!   
___________________________________________________
Resources:  Roof, J. 1999. "Molothrus ater" (On-line), Animal Diversity Web. Accessed July 17, 2011 http://animaldiversity.ummz.umich.edu/site/accounts/information/Molothrus_ater.html.


Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney 

Crop Night at Michael's

My best friend and I are on a first-name basis with, Robin, our local Michael's employee.  Robin teaches crafting classes part-time.  We are affectionately known at the store as, "Robin's $crapbook Ladies".   Behind our backs, management probably calls us "$uckers for a $ale" or "Our Job $ecurity".   

As mentioned before, I am a well-intentioned scrapbooker, short on follow-through.  Scrapbook paraphernalia manufacturers are onto me.  There's always some new gadget, or some blingy embellishment to add to those scrapbook pages I'll someday produce.  But the thing that gets me in the door is the lure of the "40% Off Any Regular Price Item" or "20% Off Entire Purchase" coupon.  Once in the store, my heart beats faster when I spy a yellow "Clearance" sticker.  It doesn't matter if I don't need it, probably won't use it.  It's on SALE! 

Is there a parallel here to angling?  The fisherman takes a sharp, shiny hook, covers it with a big juicy worm, then dangles it out there in front of the fish's face.  Do fishes have faces?  Sorry, my ADD is kickin' in.  The fish doesn't recognize he's about to get hooked and reeled in...that is unless I'm the one holding the fishing rod.  If you are a catch and release fisherman, I wonder how many times the same fish falls for the same bait, with the same result?

Well, our local Michael's has a new lure..$5 Crop Night.  I can go there and scrapbook, use some of their materials, and win a door prize (usually worth less than $5).  While I scrapbook, I can get anything I "need" from the store and pay for it at the end of the night with a...you guessed it, "coupon discount".  Oh, they are cunning; they realize human nature and the innate competitive spirit.  You look around the room and see your neighbor has a cool tool you don't have, or their page is blingier than yours.  Covetousness raises its ugly head.  It's a conspiracy!  My rationalization...Robin needs a full-time job, with benefits!

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

  

Bullies at the Bird Feeder

While eating Lance Toast-Chee Crackers and drinking my Diet Coke for breakfast this morning, I was also checking emails, and watching the birds in the backyard.  Okay, I'm a multi-tasker; some habits are hard to break.  I have been among the ranks of the unemployed for four days, and so far the only things I miss are my friends and the paycheck. 

After yesterday's trip to Aldi's for fresh fruit and vegetables, I found a bag of shriveled apples in our fridge's produce drawer.  I don't know how long they had been in there, but based on their condition, I would say a pretty long time.

Feeling a bit guilty about throwing out an entire bag of apples, especially with my new awareness of frugality, I decided to core and slice them for the birds, squirrels, and rabbits, and toss the rest in the compost bin.  Yeah, I have a compost bin.  Aren't you proud of me?  I don't exactly know what to do with compost once I have it, but....

Anyway, back to the bird story.  So I took some of the apple cores and rolled them in birdseed thinking that would make a nice treat for the birds.  I placed them on the ledge of the bird feeder, in perfect view from the sofa in our den.

For many years I worked in the office at a school and child care center. Believe me, I've had plenty of opportunities to observe adults and children's behavior, both good and bad.  While watching the bird feeder this morning, a small finch flew up and began eating one of the apple cores.  He was really enjoying himself, when a large daddy cardinal flew up and shoved him off.  I didn't know our beautiful state bird is such a bully.  And while I write, there is now a grey squirrel hanging upside down on the bird feeder, pushing all of the remaining apple cores to the ground. 

You know, I've discovered something; wildlife is very similar to the workplace.  There are always bullies who want to steal your apple core!

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Storm on the Horizon

We had another really hot, humid day today, the perfect recipe for a late afternoon thunderstorm.  As long as it's not flashing and booming right over my head, I love a summer thunderstorm.  Sometimes you can even smell it coming as the air begins to cool, the sky darkens, and the wind picks up before the rain comes.  I know I'm strange, but a slow rain with thunder and lightning in the distance is  comforting. 

Many people fear storms, though.  My mom said that as a young girl she would watch and pace the front porch of their home as a storm approached.  My grandpa was a farmer and he was often working in the fields until late in the day.  It didn't matter if my grandmother and all of the rest of the family were there.  She wanted her daddy.  If he was there, everything would be alright.  His presence calmed her.

When the inevitable storms of life appear, where do you seek security?  Do you have a life ring to hold onto when the boat is sinking?  Where do you turn when you get bad news?  Maybe there are cutbacks at work and your name is on the list.  The investments you depended on for retirement disappeared overnight in a failing economy.  The medical tests came back positive.  Your spouse wants out of the marriage.  Your son or daughter is using drugs.  There's an addiction in your life you can't overcome.

How do you face it?  For solace, do you turn to food, or pornography, or alcohol, or an improper relationship?  Pills might numb the senses, or you can get a temporary high from credit card purchases you don't need and can't afford.  Many times I have made wrong choices when a storm or trial came into my life, choosing a crutch instead of clinging to a Savior.  In doing so, we may find temporary relief, soon followed by emptiness and guilt.   

There is hope for the hurting in the security of a Daddy's love.  No, I don't mean an earthly Daddy, but a Heavenly Daddy, an Abba Father.  The same God who created the universe loves us so much that He gave His only son as ransom for us.  The only way to have an Abba Father relationship with God is through His son, Jesus.  Jesus left heaven, came to earth and lived a perfect, sinless life.  He freely paid the price required, suffering death on the cross.  His death made a way for us to have life everlasting in Heaven when we die, instead of eternal punishment in hell, which we deserve.  


Jesus is a gentleman; He never comes into your life without being asked.  He won't force you to accept His salvation gift.  Many more refuse than accept.  A simple prayer and the faith to believe is all it takes.  Believe that Jesus is the Son of God, ask God's forgiveness for the sins of your life, choose to turn from sin and follow Him, be adopted into God's family, gaining the right to call God your Abba Father.

Am I saying that as a follower of Jesus and a child of God you will no longer have trouble and storms in your life?  No, but I am saying that God wants what's best for you; He'll hold you close and help you endure it.  There is a song that says it well:  "Sometimes He calms the storm, but other times He calms His child".

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Romans 5:8:  "But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."-NASB

I Corinthians 10:13:  "No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it."-NASB

The Power of the Seed

Have you ever thought about the power in a tiny seed?  It amazes me that so much produce can come from one little seed.

For the past two years, we've ventured into the unknown realm of backyard gardening.  The exorbitant cost of fresh produce and the desire to eat healthier foods played a large part in the decision.  With the increase in cancer among friends and relatives, we haven't used pesticides on our plants.  As beginner gardeners, we have only planted some common vegetables and herbs grown in the South.  We've tried zucchini, yellow squash, leaf lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, rosemary, basil, sage, green and yellow peppers, cilantro, green beans, and jalapeno peppers.  We also planted some perennial flowers for the butterflies and birds. 

We've had success with most plants, but the pole beans have been a dismal failure this year.  I'm not sure what we did wrong, but if our survival depended on the beans, we wouldn't last a week.  Maybe we should have fertilized more, planted more seeds, or watered more.

I am sure the same concept of gardening can be applied to our daily lives.  We only reap what we sow.  Investing time and energy into the lives of others always reaps a huge reward.  Spending time in prayer and Bible study gives us a closer walk with God.  Just something to think about...

This gardening adventure has been fun.  Maybe we've reconnected with our 1960's roots; flower-children at heart, livin' off the land, maybe?  My brothers used to subscribe to Organic Gardener and Mother Earth News.  Maybe it's in the blood.  If you see me out and about wearing flip-flops, love beads and a tie-dyed t-shirt, call for an intervention...I've gone too far. 

Genesis 1:29:  "Then God said, "Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the surface of all the earth, and every tree which has fruit yielding seed; it shall be food for you;"-NASB

Galations 5:22-23:  "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law."- NASB


Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Hot Fun In the Summertime!

Tomorrow's forecast is 100 degrees in the shade, and it's only the second week of July.  Ouch...don't go barefoot on the sand or pavement!  I plan on spending most of my day indoors.  Today I was reminded of the song, "Hot Fun In the Summertime".  If you were a child of the late sixties, I'm sure you remember it.  If not, and you want a good laugh, Google the lyrics.  It had a catchy tune, but the lyrics are pretty ridiculous!  Anyway, it's about being out of school for the summer.

As a child, summer seemed to last forever.  I don't remember it being hot, but I'm sure it must have been, and we didn't have air conditioning.  We just had a huge window fan that sucked the hot air out of the house.

We weren't allowed to go shoe-less until the first of June.  My two brothers, six and eight years older than me, camped out in the front yard and cooked over an open campfire.  I wasn't allowed, and fifty years later, I'm still a bit bitter about that!  When I say camping out in the front yard, it was not the same as front yards in the city.  Our nearest neighbors were probably a quarter of a mile away and there was no fear of being outside after dark.  Our front yard was also a basketball court, baseball diamond, and miniature golf course, made complete with a tree swing just for me.

I remember eating watermelon slices with my face, and not a fork in sight.  Sitting on top of the ice cream churn while the adults turned the crank was a special privilege.  If you weren't heavy enough, you didn't last long.  Making popsicle stick baskets, playing Red Rover, drinking Kool-Aid and eating sugar cookies for snack were special memories from Vacation Bible School at Sandy Plains Baptist Church.  On summer nights, I would watch for shooting stars and catch lightning bugs (fireflies) in a jar.  Nights were so much darker without streetlights or nearby houses!

By today's standards, I suppose we would have been considered poor, although I didn't know it at the time.  But I attribute my happy childhood to parents who worked hard, provided a roof over our heads, clean clothes to wear, and food on the table, secure in the knowledge they would always be there for us.  

When the temperature soars tomorrow, have a slice of watermelon, or some homemade ice cream, and thank the Lord for your air-conditioned house.

Proverbs 22:1  "A good name is to be more desired than great wealth, Favor is better than silver and gold." NASB

 
Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney

Tomatoes, Tomatoes, Tomatoes!

Tomorrow is my first Monday of retirement.  What shall I do...what shall I do?  Well, first of all, that huge pile of laundry needing to be sorted, washed and dried is calling my name.  The only difference between being a "retired" homemaker and a "gainfully employed" homemaker is being able to do housework during the day instead of at night, and not earning a paycheck for it--either way.

Our raised-bed garden is producing lots of tomatoes now, so I think I'll soon try out the water-bath canner I purchased at a garage sale last month.  I can't eat the tomatoes fast enough and hubby isn't a big fan of tomatoes.  It's too bad that the tomatoes all come at once.  When winter comes around, I am going to be longing for a fresh homegrown tomato.

With the abundance of tomatoes, I made some pico de gallo yesterday.  I love it so much, I think I could slurp it all down, and then lick the bowl.  That wouldn't be very lady-like would it?  But if no one is looking...

No recipe used; I just rough chopped four large tomatoes, squeezed out the excess seeds and juice, added about 3/4 cup of chopped Vidalia onion, two minced jalapeno peppers with seeds & membrane removed (I'm not sure why, but it still isn't spicy), added chopped cilantro and coarse sea salt to taste, and finally added a few squeezes of fresh lime juice.  July in the South is really too hot for growing cilantro, but I was able to get enough leaves for about a teaspoon chopped.  It was enough to flavor the pico, but not as much as I would have preferred.  A word of caution, don't use two jalapenos without taste-testing after adding the first one.  My friend's Mom who has gardened for years taught me that the heat is in the seeds and the white membrane on the inside.  If you like your pico or salsa hot, you might throw in some of the seeds; if spicy is not your thing, don't add the seeds.  Don't make the mistake of rubbing your eyes after handling hot peppers...a definite no-no!

Copyright2011 Charlotte Laney

Independence Day

I was thinking today of old-time 4th of July celebrations.  After the family cookout, when it was dark-thirty, we piled the kids in the car and headed downtown for the WBT Skyshow.  Back in the day, hubby worked at LaPointe Chevrolet at Trade and Davidson Street, and we would park the car in the employee parking lot.  The fireworks were shot from the top of the NCNB Building at the corner of Trade and Tryon and we had a perfect view.  Everyone in the parking lot would have their car radios cranked up to WBT AM radio.  The fireworks were synced to patriotic music on their radio station.  We would be rockin' to Neil Diamond's rendition of "Coming to America", or "Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen, along with my fourth of July favorite, "Stars and Stripes Forever". 

Our youngest was afraid of the big booms, and I would hold my hands over his ears while sitting on the trunk of our car.  I loved looking up and seeing the beautiful colors and patterns bursting right over our heads.  The finale always ended with what sounded like a barrage of cannon fire and every color of the rainbow.  When it ended you could hear people clapping and cheering all around; then everyone would climb into their cars and fight the bumper-to-bumper traffic to get back home.

As a side-note, our oldest son honeymooned in NYC and said that when he and his bride were on the harbor cruise, "Coming to America" was playing.  He said it brought back memories of his childhood with  Neil Diamond playing on our 8-track tape player.  (All you twenty-somethings and younger can Google that.)

There were years when we had our own home-grown fireworks displays, too.  Since really good fireworks are illegal in North Carolina, and my brother lives in South Carolina, he could purchase them there for the big day.  I would be satisfied with sparklers and firecrackers, but hubby and my brother love the big guns.

However you choose to celebrate Indepence Day 2011, just make sure to create some memories with your family that will last a life-time. 

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney