Diamond Anniversary Wishes

Today, two very special people will celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. Yep. You read correctly. 60!!! You don't hear much of longevity anymore in terms of marriage. Heck, even John and I are both in our second marriages. Of course, our first marriages were to each other so maybe that still counts.

This past Sunday during the part of our church service in which we recognize people having birthdays or celebrating anniversaries, this couple was called forth to be sung to. (yes, I realize I ended that sentence with a prep, but sometimes you just gotta) While there, the lovely former bride said a few words on being married that long and the blessings that have come from those 60 years, namely two daughters, three grandsons, two granddaughters, and two great-grandsons.

Now, you know me. I am a fan of humor. So, the funniest part of this talk (what we Baptists sometimes call testifying or giving a testimony) was when she spoke of how, as a young girl, "walking the streets" of her town, she met a good looking boy driving a shiny car (not his) and wearing a hat with up-turned sides. Upon the "walking the streets" part, one of her daughters became tickled and laughed aloud. Meant in the most innocent way, it still sounded quite hilarious coming forth from her mom's mouth.

So, Happy Anniversary to two people whom I've had the honor of knowing for 41 of their 60 years together, my momma and daddy.

Tyla

P.S. I confess. It was I who laughed out loud at mom's recollection at church Sunday.

P.S.S. I am really starting to get peeved at Blogger. First, I have been unable to leave comments on posts of some of my blogging buddies and NOW...I have no signature. I actually had to type in my name. I know what you're thinking....Ohhh, the tragedy. ;)

In Honor of Our Heroes

I'm sure many of you have seen the following before, especially if you are connected to the military or teaching. It's one of those inspirational stories that gets sent around quite often via email. Luckily, this one happens to be true (or so says SNOPES). So, on this Memorial Day 2011, in honor of all our fallen heroes who have paid the ultimate price in maintaining even the smallest freedoms we enjoy as Americans, thank you!

Back in September of 2005, on the first day of school, Martha Cothren, a social studies school teacher at Robinson High School
in Little Rock , did something not to be forgotten. On the first day of school, with the permission of the school superintendent, the principal and the building supervisor, she removed all of the desks out of her classroom.

When the first period kids entered the room they discovered that there were no desks.

'Ms. Cothren, where're our desks?'

She replied, 'You can't have a desk until you tell me how you earn the right to sit at a desk.'

They thought, 'Well, maybe it's our grades.'

'No,' she said.

'Maybe it's our behavior.'

She told them, 'No, it's not even your behavior.'

And so, they came and went, the first period, second period, third period. Still no desks in the classroom.

By early afternoon television news crews had started gathering in Ms. Cothren's classroom to report about this crazy teacher who had taken all the desks out of her room.

The final period of the day came and as the puzzled students found seats on the floor of the deskless classroom, Martha Cothren said, 'Throughout the day no one has been able to tell me just what he/she has done to earn the right to sit at the desks that are ordinarily found in this classroom. Now I am going to tell you.'

At this point, Martha Cothren went over to the door of her classroom and opened it.

Twenty-seven (27) U.S. Veterans, all in uniforms, walked into that classroom, each one carrying a school desk. The Vets began placing the school desks in rows, and then they would walk over and stand alongside the wall. By the time the last soldier had set the final desk in place those kids started to understand, perhaps for the first time in their lives, just how the right to sit at those desks had been earned..

Martha said, 'You didn't earn the right to sit at these desks. These heroes did it for you. They placed the desks here for you. Now, it's up to you to sit in them. It is your responsibility to learn, to be good students, to be good citizens. They paid the price so that you could have the freedom to get an education. Don't ever forget it.'

Hmmm. Have You Ever Had a Moment Like This?

I don't know whether to be amused at something that happened to me earlier in the day or slightly worried.

Today was a work day for teachers at school (students are out for the summer now) and in between helping do a few things to get ready for the retirement luncheon that was going to be held in the library, I was at my desk getting a little last minute paperwork done.

Before leaving in the morning I told Ren I would call and remind her to begin getting reading so she could join us for lunch. Not only were two of her former teachers and a longtime cafeteria worker being honored, but her dad was too, as he is leaving teaching after 25 years to join the world of school administration.

Anyway, when the time came to make my phone call home I could... not... remember... my... number. My own home phone number - that I've had for 15 years!!! I sat and thought. And thought. And thought. 4499? 4494? 9944? Wait. Isn't there another number other than 4 and 9? After a while I realized it just wasn't coming so I went across the hall to ask John. Thank goodness my husband works in the same building (at least for another day). How embarrassing would that have been! I can only imagine the look on Ms. Sherry's face (our school receptionist) if I had buzzed her and said, "Excuse me, Ms. Sherry, but could you possibly find out my phone number and tell me what it is?"

I once heard someone say these episodes are called "senior moments". Now, I'm no longer in the freshman years of my life, but, at 41, I don't think I'm quite at the age to be considered a senior. Hmmm. Maybe being a librarian is a more stressful job than I've thought all these years - that or I need to eat more fish.

Everybody Loves a Parade!

It seems all parades must start with sirens. And while babies and adults cringe at the blaring, those in between, like a certain son of mine, loves it!

There were old queens...

...and new ones.


And tell me, what parade is complete without a Shriners' clown?




Now, despite what you may have been led to believe, this is NOT how we southerners roll (anymore, at least), but it does make a good entry in a parade with the theme of "Preserving Our Heritage".

My son came prepared. He has been to enough parades in his wee little life to know there is always the possibility for CANDY!

Here's Ronald drumming up a little business - as if any kid needs to be talked into going to his place.

Of course, the best part of a parade is sharing it with the people you love. That's my dad and mom, along with John-Heath, my sister, John, and my brother-n-law.

And this is who they all came to see...

Ren -or as John-Heath called her- the "Queen Strawberry", seen here hamming a bit before the parade.

The Story of a Boy and a Bean

When I was young I loved coffee. Other than the occasional sip I wasn't allowed to have it, so I would carefully sneak into the kitchen, climb up the side of a bookshelf onto the counter, and retrieve the big can of ground coffee that was always on hand in an upper cabinet and eat me a big ole scoop. Oh, yes. I was such a daredevil!

One of my favorite aspects of coffee is its smell. Fresh-brewed or still in the can makes no difference. One of these days when my children are out of the house and I have a life again, I want to go to a Starbucks and just sit. For hours. Reading and smelling. Ahhh... For now I'm content just walking down the coffee aisle at the local supermarket.

Just like a chip off the old block, John-Heath is also a fan. Since we brew decaf in our home I will allow him a cup every now and again. You should see him mimic people while drinking it. He does a particularly good impression of a sophisticated adult - which we think may be based on his principal.

Anyway, on to the bean. I know you're all just dying to know how the bean comes into play.

This past Saturday night, John, John-Heath, and I stopped by the Wal-mart in a neighboring town to pick up a few things before heading home. Normally, when we're in a hurry we'll each grab a shopping cart and split up to cover more ground. On this night John-Heath stayed with his dad, sitting in the main part of the buggy. About 45 minutes later we met up with each other in a checkout line.

After chit-chatting with some friends who were in the same line, John leans in and whispers in my ear, "Don't panic, but John-Heath has a coffee bean stuck up his nose."

I won't bore you with all the details of what happened between that moment and the moment the third doctor in the ER came in to give an opinion (and luckily the opinion that worked, thanks to a carefully inserted balloon catheter), nor repeat what I said to John on the ride to the hospital because he had decided to "just finish his shopping first". Suffice to say, he quickly saw the error in his thinking when doctor #2 stated that, due to how high and tightly the bean was lodged, we were probably looking at an impending trip to Vanderbilt where it would need to be surgically removed. I almost felt sorry for him at that moment.

But it all worked out in the end and John-Heath was able to add one more fabulous story to his repertoire and for even a little while after the whole ordeal, he was able to enjoy the built-in smell of coffee, which he thought was kinda cool.



And just how did he wind up with the bean in his nose? Well, he's like his momma and enjoys certain smells. So, as he was passing by the aisle with the coffee beans, he decided to pick one up and give it a whiff. He had the bean too close to his nostril, took a big sniff, and up she went!

A Queen and a Bean

Waiting to head out on stage

This past weekend was an eventful one for my family, with each of my children creating their own excitement for us all to enjoy.

Friday evening, Ren took part in a pageant as part of the Middle Tennessee Strawberry Festival. This year actually marks the 70th year for the festivities. Many moons ago I had walked down the runway on a couple occasions in my very own attempts at the title, leaving each time without hardware. Fortunately, Ren fares a little better. She had participated in this same pageant last year finishing the evening as the second runner-up. Dressed in a red Maggie Sottero gown, John-Heath thought she looked beautiful. His exact words were, “Awww, Ren is so pretty! She looks just like a big, red crab!”.

Ren and her biggest fan - my mother

This year she wore a white gown - which we both concluded resembled something from the movie Troy. All she needed was a wreath of leaves in her hair and she would be good to go for a scene with Orlando Bloom.

I know I’m partial, but I thought she was quite beautiful and did a great job in the way she carried herself onstage. To have only been in three pageants she does a good job (thanks to a lot of training from her cousin Meg). The judges must have agreed for she was crowned the winner, among some very stiff competition of 31 girls, I must say. She was thrilled! We all were - especially my mom.

Finally home. When she asked if I now thought it had been worth it (You see, I had fussed all week long about her doing it) I said, "Well, that little piece of tin on your head is definitely not worth the money and time spent. But, seeing how happy you were was worth it and then some."

John-Heath enjoyed the evening too and remarked that he thought the most beautiful girl up there was the one showing her legs. I know. I was a little worried myself, at first. Turns out though he was more impressed that the girl was wearing cowboy boots with her evening gown. I think she may have been attempting to make some sort of misguided statement, a la Cybil Shepherd at the Emmys from a few years ago. Oh well, John-Heath sure liked the look.

Now, what exactly does a “bean” have to do with this post? For that, you’ll have to come back tomorrow. It’s never a dull moment at my house - or at Wal-Mart for that matter.

Ren and Kayla, the winner of the 20+ division and a former Miss Tennessee Teen USA contestant

P.S Pageant tip: If you run out of time before finding that perfect pair of new shoes in just the right color, take an old pair in the wrong color, tape off the acrylic heels and rhinestones and spray paint those suckers. It worked like a charm for us.

T-Minus 10 and Counting

That's right. We have ten days of school left before we head into a little break known as summer vacation.

Of course, teachers' summers aren't as school-free as one might think when you factor in all the professional development and planning for the next year that is done. I can't complain, though, and it's even better since our district took our salary (which is based on 10 months) and redistributed it throughout all 12 months. I tell ya, long summer breaks are even longer (and not in a good way) when you have no money coming your way.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the end. The bulk of my school year runs along smoothly and stress-free, but at this time of the year - well, chaos is the word that comes to mind.

Now, it's time for my chaos-filled head to hit the pillow - and I hope to goodness I don't dream about textbook counts, due dates, lost book fines, purchase orders, tutoring, Battle of the Book questions, zzzz zzzz zzzz

To Mothers and Grandmothers Everywhere...

Happy Mother's Day!

Her children arise up, and call her blessed.

Proverbs 31:28

My mother Betty, a youthful 78, at the end of an evening spent babysitting John-Heath not long ago.

Happy Mother's Day, Momma! I love you and I'm so thankful to still have you in my life.

Scenes from My Mower - 2011 Edition

Last year as I was mowing my yard and thinking how lovely everything was as it was greening up and flowering out, I decided I would take a few pics of some of the sights I enjoyed. So, I strapped my camera around my neck and continued to mow, snapping shots here and there. Well, here is this year's edition taken a couple weeks ago a few days prior to Easter.

These pictures were, again, taken from the seat of my mower along one of the trails John mows. I normally just mow the main part of our yard (which at 5 acres is big enough) but for some reason this time I decided to do the trails, too. I'm glad I did, for I was able to see some lovely things that, let's just face it, my little eyes may never have spied had I not been on a mower.

Won't you ride along with me?

Along the edge of the farm looking across the road at our neighbor's place. I love their little "valley". It's always so well kept.

Looking down a path that leads into some woods.

The low-hanging branch in the distance once nearly took out everyone on the right side of a wagon during a hayride.

A bee-U-tiful day!

A close-up of that deadly, low-hanging branch.

A dogwood a little past it's prime, but still my favorite flowering tree.

My favorite mowing buddy!

A Royal Tradition

The first televised coronation.

In 1953, my mother-n-law sat with her classmates from school in front of a small television screen to watch the coronation of Elizabeth II. Her mother, a Canadian by birth but by this time an American, was always keenly interested in all things concerning her former monarchy.

So, in June of that year, having one of the only t.v.’s to be found in their tiny community of Culleoka, Tennessee, she invited each of her daughter’s classmates to attend the broadcast of the coronation.

Cake and berries served on my Lenox, which rarely sees the light of day.

Ever the proper hostess, she had made pound cake, served on her best dishes along with fresh strawberries, whipped cream and, of course, tea. My husband also recalls how, as a child on summer trips to his grandparents’ home, his grandmother, “Granny” to him and his siblings, would always have a mid-morning snack of tea and cookies ready for her grandchildren.

Kate gets her ring and her prince.

This past Friday, my daughter and I woke early, as in 3 a.m. early (and yes, I could barely function the rest of the day), to watch the marriage of William and Kate. If there are two things at which the Brits reign supreme, it’s throwing weddings and wearing hats. Well, most Brits don a hat well – not quite sure what Beatrice was thinking with what sat atop her head, but that’s another post altogether.

Ren slept on the couch in preparation for the big day. Notice her tiara (from being on the 8th grade homecoming court a few years ago) - every girl wants to be a princess.

Wake up, sleepy head.

So, in carrying on a family tradition, I thought it would be nice to serve up some cake and strawberries, just like Granny had done almost 60 years earlier, and even though she hates strawberries, Ren gave in to the sense of family unity and partook in a wee bite or two.


And who knows - maybe six decades down the road my great-grandchildren will be watching as William’s son or daughter is crowned and will eat strawberries and think of me.

Coronation image via

Wedding image via