Wednesday, September 27, 2023

Year 3 of our travel life

 I'm sitting out amongst the redwoods and it's just enchanting. 

Memories of myself climbing trees, then my lil 9 yr old daughter climbing trees. She was always so adventurous and I swallowed my gullet a couple of times seeing her 30 ft up a tree, but it made her independent and strong. 

Gosh, this is a wondrous life. I hope that you have many memories of climbing trees and making forts, or maybe wading in a cold stream. It was the best of times, said a famous author, and I so agree.  

Love you all to the moon and back. Always, kimmee








Monday, August 14, 2023

My sweet cousin, Glenda

 This song always brings me hope. I think it is all those wonderful photos of places that God's hand has touched. This is a story about a person that had the faith of the Angels.... 

  

I had a special cousin named Glenda and she is on my mind this morning.  I think because my heart is aching this week by events in the world and God wanted me to know that we can experience all those things and maybe more,  but we can't give up.

 

We still need to get up the next morning, pull up our boot straps as the ole timers say,  and make it the best way that we can. Glenda did that.  Here is something I wrote about her a little while ago.  I think I am just trying to find my way today to the light of our Creator and the warmth that I need to feel each day. 


 "I am sitting here with tears in my eyes because I am thinking of Glenda. She is my 1st cousin, Uncle Robert's youngest daughter. She and my sister Donna Gail are the same age and we spent many hours playing with her and the sister that was my age named Diann,  when we were children. They lived in the house next to us. Back then, there were not any trailers by daddy's, and no homes either. It was Daddy's and Uncle Robert's land and there were not any homes til you got to Dykestown curve. ( I think) We played in the road, we ran down to Diann's house running backwards and we played with Glenda. 


She was a late baby for Aunt Jody but she was so loved. She was always clean and dressed in beautiful little day dresses. Aunt Jody played a beautiful steel topped guitar and would sing gospel songs while Glenda rocked to the music. She only said a few words and one of them was "Donnnaaaa Gaaaailllll."  She drew it out like that in a squeal when she would hear us coming cause she loved Donna. They would play hand games and she would walk Glenda around the house and outside. They would sit and draw in the sand and Donna was so patient with her. She was kind and loving and it was an omen of how many times I would be proud of my Sister as time went on. Glenda did not get out a lot or go to school. The things she could have learned, had we only known or if they had programs back then, like they do now.  She was and is precious. She lives with my cousin Patricia since Aunt Jody died and she was an Angel if I ever saw one." 


Since that time Glenda has passed onto heaven. She never went to school and she did not go out much. Children born with Down's Syndrome back then weren't in the community like they are now. It wasn't that the parents were ashamed of their babies, It was that the world wasn't kind to their babies. Thank God we have come a long way from that today. 


I was listening to A song at the opening of the Special Olympics in Austria by Jason Mraz and it said to never give up and I never will.  I want to be like Glenda greeting each new day with a joy in my heart, rocking to the tunes that My Mama Sang and feeling safe in my world. 


It is reality that we don't always feel safe but we don't have to live in fear. I refuse to live my life that way. I hope that each of you will find a little faith of the heart that will keep bringing us closer, rather than pushing us apart. I love you and wish you a blessed day, Kimmee


(the pictures are some that I have taken that remind me of how precious our world is and what grace we experience everyday. Our world make seem bleak but we have only to look at the color that surrounds us to know that will pass.  The last photo is one taken by my friend Irene of my sister Donna and I sitting on the dock overlooking the St Lawrence River across to Canada) 


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1sYjDc8i4I&index=130&list=PLD1AAEF7C2656D

Saturday, June 3, 2023

Hog Killing Day

 *****************Warning*************************  This story contains explicit details about the way we killed our animals for meat and put them in the smoke house.  It is not for those of you that have never grown up on a farm or had to hunt for your survival. Please don't read this if you are upset about hunting and preparing animals for eating and the freezer. 


It was hog killing day for our family and all were expected to help in some way.  It usually happened in the cooler weather to keep us from sweating to death and to keep the meat fresh as it was hanging in the Smoke House. 


Mama had a big old cast iron cauldron that was heated over a bunch of dried hard wood so that it would  heat quickly and sustain the heat for as long as we would need the water to boil. It was banked so that the cauldron was leaning on its side for easier access to put the pig in. I know that there may be some that are confused by now if you have never scalded a pig, but for those of you in the know, you understand completely what I mean. 


Daddy would bring the hog up and put a slit in its throat so that it would bleed out and not spoil the meat.  I know some of you may be game hunters and say that it is not necessary to split the throat on an animal and that is partially true. If the heart is beating then it is necessary. If the heart has stopped and the animal is dead, then no blood is circulating and you don't need to slit the throat. But our Daddy always slit the throat and let the animal bleed out to keep the meat good. That was just his way and was probably the way his Daddy  and his Daddy before him,  did it too. 


When the pig was dead,  he would dip the animals in the cauldron as far as he could to soften the skin so he could use his knife and scrape the hair off the meat. Daddy liked the skin as soft as a baby's bottom and no hair on it, so that when he cooked it up, it would get brown and toasty as it baked or fried.  


Daddy ate the fat right along with the meat which is probably why he stroked badly with high blood pressure when he was 62.  

It was the way of so many back in those days and to tell the truth, I love the fat too. I almost never trim my chops or Corned beef. I just love the fat and no, I don't eat it like that often. I haven't had pork chops in well over a year and corned beef once this year.. So there, as Miss Earline says. LOL 


The hog was dipped and pulled out of the pot and scraped. There was always a cover on the ground so that sand or dirt did not get on the pig although daddy washed it off when it was hanging too.  He was very careful about making sure the meat was clean for us and for him. I think Daddy ate some kind of meat every day of his life. Maybe not in the later years but we all sure put away some animals when I was growing up. There was 6 hungry mouths to feed and I can't say as a child that I ever went without. Daddy made sure of that. 


After the hair was scraped off, Daddy made a slit on the back hooves right between the tendons so that he could put the pig up on this butchering type thing he had made. It had two pieces of wood sticking out from the back of the smoke house and it was whittled narrow on the ends so that you could thread the slit he made onto the wooden spikes up off the ground and then he would tie it into place so it wouldn't slip off while he was butchering the animal. He had a pot underneath it to gather up all the guts and stuff as he slit the belly open and these were taken deep into the woods for the wild animals.  He kept the intestines to make chitlins and cleaned off every other part that we could eat too. Daddy lived by a "waste not, want not", type mentality and we used every part of  all of the animals that we hunted. 


If it was an animal that we skinned, we kept the hide and the boys, Lee,  Clifton and Ernest Lee would take them and stretch them on the sides of the barn to keep or use in belts or hat bands, such as when we got a rattler. There was always an assortment of hides drying on the barn walls and at any given time you might see Coon, Possum, Rabbit or Squirrel Hide drying, depending on how lucky we had been that week. 


I know it may sound callous to some as I recount this memory but it never was. We did not take food for granted and the blessings were said before we ate a bite. We were grateful for our food and that Daddy and the boys had provided it for us.  


I was not a hunter but I was one that could skin the animal and fix it up for every body. I could never kill an animal but after it was dead, I switched into taking care of it for the family. I knew how to skin a squirrel, rabbit, coon, or possum. 


Daddy always had us slit all the way around the stomach and pull the hide down around the feet and head. then we pulled the hide as close to the claws as we could and cut off the feet. We carefully peeled the hide over the squirrel head, because we were going to eat the head  so we did not want any fur in our food.  After cleaning the squirrel, cutting off the claws and getting the eyeballs off the head, we would wash it, salt it, meal and/or flour it and fry it up.  


All the kids would fight to have the head. I know that sounds gross to some but this was our way. We like the brains. They were so good and all of us kids wanted the head. If there weren't enough for all of us, the older kids got first and Donna and I would share one but usually there was enough for anyone that wanted it. 


We were blessed in that way that our brothers and Daddy were good shots. Ernest, Clif and Leeroy were always out hunting when I was little as I recall and we always had a deer and plenty of meat to fill the freezer each year. We put up everything we hunted, grew or bought so that in lean months, we had plenty of food. 


When the Hog was sufficiently cleaned, Daddy would begin the butchering process. The Hips for nice Hams for the smoke house, the Pork Butt or shoulder, the ribs, the pork chops and loins. Daddy would save the bits to grind into sausage or to makes gravies. Like I said before, every part that could be used, was used for something. 


Daddy would take the big hams and salt them down good then open the door to the Smoke House. It had hanging wood beams so that you could hang your ham over it tied with a piece of rope and then it had a place in there to have the fire that you would use to smoke the wood. It was a long process to prepare the ham and I can't believe to this day that daddy had time to work, grow a huge garden and smoke his own meat, but he did it, every year without complaint. 


We would use Oak, Hickory or Pecan wood to smoke the meat if we wanted flavors and daddy was real good about keeping the fire smoking instead of burning. He would draw water from the well in its trough and put it in a bucket outside the smoke house, then check on his meat and pour water over the fire several times a day to keep the meat from over cooking.  


While Daddy was doing his part on the pig, Mama was busy making lye soap by rendering down the fat from the pig bits that daddy would give her in the cast iron cauldron that we had used to get the hair off the pig. She cleaned it well, put fresh water in and rendered the fat. When the fat was ready, she would do the rest of the process. I would watch but not be allowed to help because it would be dangerous if I got any of the caustic substance on myself. Of course I did not know that at the time but my Mama  had a long broom handle stick to stir it with as it was cooking. She was careful so I knew that it could burn me or hurt me in some way. Mama would stay busy and in the end we would have lye soap to wash our clothes in the wringer machine and the washtubs and to clean ourselves in. 


It smelled clean. I can't describe it any other way. I liked the squeaky clean feeling I had when we bathed in the wash tubs and used her soap. Of course I only remember this happening a time or two growing up as Mama wasn't at home for all the killing but I still remember her doing it real good this one time. I can see her still in my memory with her apron up, her hair up out of the way of cooking and her  dress. I sat to the side and watched her stir and stir that soap until it was ready. It is a good memory for me. My mother was protective of me this time and one other so that is a good reason to believe that she did love me, even if she never said it. 


We would have some good eatin when the Ham was ready and afterwards it was ice cream making time in the summer months.  Daddy made really good ice cream. Often it was Vanilla but sometimes it was Peach which was my favorite.  Daddy would put the eggs, Milk, Vanilla , Ice cream mix in a bowl to mix well by hand and then pour it into the middle metal section of the ice Cream maker.  Ours wasn't electric so that was all hand cranked which took some time. 


When the mix was in the middle, Daddy would layer the Ice and rock salt all around the edges to keep it good and cold. Then he would put the top on and take it outside on the back porch for us to sit in chairs as he cranked the ice cream. We would start off with the lightest  child on the maker to hold it down while daddy cranked. The harder the ice cream got, the bigger the child got that was sitting on it. Daddy liked his ice cream hard so he would crank it until it moved all the way around while we sat on it. It was like a bucking bronco at times. LOL 


When it was done to his satisfaction, we all got bowls and daddy gave us all some ice cream. The best I have ever tasted in my life. After ice cream was finished and bowls were licked and dishes done, we would all settle back on the back or front porch. 


Daddy usually went to the front cause he could sit in the swing and watch cars go by. Clif and Ernest were often on the back porch playing cards with match sticks or money if they had worked in the fields that week. Daddy would sit out front and hope that one of us kids was dumb enough to challenge him to a game of checkers. We would do that a few times until it proved futile. 


Daddy was an excellent Checkers player and it was poetry to watch a new victim fall into his trap. He would be jumping and Kinging his while you were sitting there scratching your head and saying, what just happened. LOL.  I think he took some pride in his checkers skill , even though we were taught that pride was sinful, Daddy would smile when he lighted up his old pipe with his belly full and his ego stroked like a cheshire cat. Good memories of a job well done. 


Kids fed,  garden weeded, meat smoked, dessert made and ate and a game won for one more day...... 


Love to you Daddy as Fathers day approaches. You taught me so much without saying a word and you were a good man. I am so glad that you stopped drinking when you did and gave us years of you being you, which was a decent hard working man. I Love you. Always, your lil ole gal, Glorann... 


(google image for the ice cream maker and cauldron. Ours was real big)









Monday, May 8, 2023

My Grandpa, Admiral Dewey Morris

 Good Morning sweet friends,

 It is TBT and I wanted to share my Grandpa  Morris with you all. I remember him quite well because I was a teenager when he passed. He was born in 1899 and died in 1968. Not a hugely long life as I am only a few years away from this age myself.


He used to come visit often as I was growing up and he was a quiet man who seemed to have a lot of patience as I recall. Our rambunctious ways did not seem to bother him and he would sit quietly and watch us play. 


He was sick the whole time that I remember him and he used a cane to walk. His legs were so swollen near the end that he hobbled more than walked but he still made the trip to see us right up to the end. My Grandmother had died in 1954 so he was alone and I think he missed being around children. We were his grandchildren and brought smiles into his life and I am so glad that we did.


 I remember well the day he died and laid in his house for 3 days so that all could visit. I was shocked to see nickels on his eyes when we went over and asked my Uncle Andy about them. Uncle Andy told me, that was for the ferryman to help the dead cross over.   I was always intrigued by that idea and found out that was a long standing custom in the South,  but it actually is much older from Greek Times. 


Here are a couple of stories I  wrote about him after talking to W L Simmons at the Ebenezer Church Homecoming. I took notes and turned what he said into this story that I could keep for my family:-) Hope that you all enjoy getting to know Granddaddy Morris. I remember him best with a mess of fish like the picture and am thankful that he was here so that I could be. I am so glad that i had Granddaddy for awhile when I was growing up. They have all been gone so long now.  but I remember them like yesterday. Love to all my family and friends, Kimmee 


 Information from W.L Simmons at Ebenezer Church Homecoming--Sunday......July 2011


Grandpa Dewey had a store called "The Hinky Dink" located on Morristown Road about 1/2 mile from Aunt Elma's home. When Grandpa would go fishing, he would put big chains on the door to keep the children and Ola out of it. He did not want them taking any merchandise while he was fishing.   When W L Simmons was a young man, he, Uncle Andy (Andrew Adair "tadpole") Morris and cousin Earl Morris used to go to Fred Hendrick's traveling wagon store. In those days you could sell a chicken or eggs for enough money to get a candy bar. 


They would take a chicken, collect the money, then while Mr Hendricks was distracted by the other two boys, W L would open the bottom of the chicken cage and act like he had another chicken to sell. The boys did this three times so that they could all have a candy bar. Years later W L felt bad about what he had done and one day he saw Mr Hendricks. They were just talking and Mr Hendricks asked "Was I a good supervisor?" and W L told Mr Hendricks "You were mean to me." Mr Hendricks had a shocked look and W L said, " Naw, you were a good one, but I have to tell you what we boys did to you when we were young." He then told Mr Hendricks the story of using the chicken three times and Mr Hendricks looked at him and said, "You'll boys didn't do that to me, did you?" W L had to tell him yes and that he was sorry. Mr Hendricks then forgave him and  W L felt better about telling him. 


 Second story...At night when W L, Uncle Andy , and Earl would be coming home late down the trail to Grandpa Deweys store, Grandpa used to love to scare the boys. He used an old metal hat that he would rub on rocks, which produced a scary sound, all the while he was making terrible noises. The boys would say, "did you hear that?" they would listen for a while. Grandpa would do it again and the boys would be so scared that they would run the rest of the way home because it sounded as if someone was dying.






Monday, April 17, 2023

Aunt Lizzie And Her Snickerdoodles

In old age we are either tiny or ample and in my family, you can see some of each, even in my own sisters. My older sister is tiny, my younger sister is thin and I am the one that is ample. I remind myself so much of my mother and Daddy's Aunt Lizzie Creamer. She had an ample bosom and hips to go with it. "Birthin" hips we used to call it. I did not have them in my youth but for the last 13 years, I have had to embrace my roundness or fat if I want to be truthful. 


Aunt Lizzie was such a character. She was a buxom woman as I have mentioned and "bolster holsters" weren't really a way of life for many women back then.  She wore a homemade sack dress probably or if it were a store bought one,  it was plain but it was clean. She had a towel or kerchief that she wore around her neck because she was a "dipper."  I have never seen anyone spit snuff across the room like she did onto the old wood burning pot belly stove she had. When the spit would hit it, it would sizzle and bounce across the stove and  a puff of smoke would come out. It was fascinating to watch her hit it every time and then wipe her chin on the towel around her neck. That was to keep her dress and apron from getting messed up so that when company came by, she could take off the towel and be presentable. 


Company just stopped by in those days. No warning. No phone call. Many people did not have a phone and if they did, it was a party line and good luck trying to get a word in edgewise.


She was the daughter of my beautiful Grandma that left us way to early.  Her Parents were Lucious LeeRoy and Lula Arritta Creamer Peacock.  I loved my Grandma Peacock more than life. She was my anchor in a chaotic childhood and I was pretty devastated when she passed. No more of her cinnamon cookies or so I thought. She would always give me the first one hot out of the oven when I would visit. I would climb up on the old barn bench seat and watch her work in the apron  that Aunt Elma gave me from her.  The smells were so delicious and it was hard for me not to wiggle while I waited for the cookie to bake, on their old wood stove. She may have been the one to teach Aunt Lizzie to make those cinnamon cookies because they both made them the say way. Delicious would be an understatement.


Aunt Lizzie's name is always listed as Lizzie so I haven't found records to suggest that it was ever Elizabeth. She married sometime between 1920 and 1930 because she is listed on the 1930 Census as being Widowed and her name is Lizzie Archer. Their marriage was short and I don't know if they had children.  She wasn't very motherly like my Grandma was,  so maybe children were not her forte.  


I know that she tolerated us if we would sweep her yard. Back in those days, having a grassy lawn was not the aspiration of many. It was to have a white sandy yard that you swept with a bundle of twigs tied into a broom.  If I was gonna get a cookie that day, I would have to sweep the yard, and walk the outside perimeter of the sand to get back to the steps for that cookie. If I left any footprints in the sand, No cookie for me. lol  


I became quite adept at those long sweeping movements that would wipe any footprints or any vestige of anyone walking on it, away.  It looked like white sand at the beach and maybe that was the intent because at any given time of day, you could look out your front window and see white sand and travel there in your mind. 


Anyway, Aunt LIzzie was not a bad person but she was not a demonstrative type woman, at least to Donna and myself. Maybe she knew if we were around,  we wanted a cookie and she did not like to share. Maybe she didn't have much and cookies were the treat she gave herself. I never thought that far into the process. I just wanted a cinnamon cookie. lol


The wooden house was built by my Daddy for her to live and it was right across Morristown road on the opposite corner as the house Daddy built for us. It wasn't large but it had a pretty good sized front room that went into the kitchen/dining room and it had two small bedrooms. It did not have an indoor toilet but had an outhouse out back. It had a good sized back porch and just past the porch was where you got your water. There was a great old pump that you primed and then you could get some of the amazing cold mineral water that this area is famous for.  


This is the part of the story when I confess to being less than stellar as a kid. I have spoken of taking an extra piece of candy when given the opportunity to bag my own back in the day and that the guilt was enough to paralyze me and the next time I bagged my own candy, I shorted myself but the fact remains that I stole a redhot. 


And I sneaked into Aunt Lizzie's window once to steal a cookie. I know that is so awful and I really have no excuse but the pull of that cinnamon cookie was strong to a little kid that was missing those homemade treats that other mothers made for kids after school.  I opened the back window and shimmed myself inside one day, when I knew Daddy was taking her to Flomaton, and I looked for her cookie tin. It was right there on the table and I wrestled with my conscience and that cookie for a minute or two , until it got the best of me and I took the cookie. 


I sneaked out the same way I came and forgot to close the window. I was not a very good well thought out thief. I would probably be on one of those "stupid" criminal videos that you see on youtube now. lol


I took the cookie to my straw house on the back side of Aunt Lizzie's house.  I don't remember sharing it with Donna. I feel worse about that than taking the cookie. I ate my prize and then went back home. I am sure that Aunt LIzzie knew she had not left a window up and that was when I started having to sweep the yard if I wanted a cookie. It was a fair exchange in my mind. She never spoke of the missing cookie and I could not bake one to replace what I had taken,  so I lived with that shame. 


The good thing is that I never took anything else. I guess the shame of the Snickerdoodle theft  was enough to quelch any thought of doing that again. 


I hope that I learned something from her and from the task of sweeping the sand. I know that I tried real hard to make sure it was pretty and when Donna would do that, she would too.  

I know that kids today would think that was a waste of their time but believe me, it wasn't. 


While I was sweeping, I was breathing in fresh air. I was under shaded pine trees soaking up the smell of pine nuts and needles. Some days there would be a breeze and that is a little slice of heaven to be in the shade as the breeze came through making the pines sway so beautifully to and fro in a dance of the pines. Of course sometimes a pine cone would fall and you had to step lively so that it would not hit you on the head.  


The bigger lesson is I learned to do something for an elderly person that was unable too. It is interesting that I became a Nurse for the elderly in my adulthood. I certainly had training growing up in respect and care of the people older than I was. 


I hope that you all can get a picture of Aunt Lizzie from this short story of her. I liked her and am glad that she tolerated us children and glad that she let me work for a treat instead of just handing it to me. 


I hope that all have a beautiful day today. Adding prayers for my cousin Betsy and for anyone needing them today. I love you, Kimmee


(photo of Aunts Arbelle and LIzzie from Donna)





Tuesday, February 28, 2023

The Tree

 This tree spoke to me today. 


The tree is barren as the cold winds blow

Nothing to protect it from a mountain of snow 

It's leaves are gone that may bring warmth

Gaining what it can from the soil of the Earth


You might feel sadness as you gaze at the twigs

Wishing that you could help it grow new sprigs

Knowing that it's life is out of your hands

But believing in its existence for all of man


It's much like an old body used up, and then

The springtime comes, and the buds begin

Showing new life, another year well done

Til next we are gone and a new tree begun





Friday, September 30, 2022

White Water Rafting

 Good morning dear friends. I thought I would relate the Tuesday's adventure before we left Gold country. 

It was a day unlike any other. It was going to be 102 and the girls wanted one adventure before we left the rapids. The morning dawned bright and the girls packed up their gear. 

Boat. Check

Fishing supplies. Check

Water and sunscreen. Check

Snacks.   Check

Towels.  Check


They piled all their gear into the truck because they were driving to the spot where all the water rapid tours departed and that's where they were putting their boat into the water.  Take the 1 1/2  hr float back to where our RV is then get the bikes and go get the truck. It seemed such a simple plan. 


The big boats left with paddlers, equipped with life vests, helmets etc and the girls put their boat in the water  when the last tour boat left. 


Immediately Wendi heard an air leak in the boat and said to Jenny, "we have a hole in the boat." Jenny said."maybe we shouldn't do it today." Wendi said, " it will be alright. 2 of the 3 chambers are holding." 


Off they went with Wendi's back to the rapids and Jenny facing the rapids. As they paddled the air was trying to empty out of the chamber with a hole. Wendi tried to keep her finger over the hole while paddling and skinned up her knuckle pretty badly. 

Meanwhile Jenny was saying, as the water got choppy, " I'm nervous.  I'm really, really nervous.: 

Wendi reassured her. "Everything is gonna be alright."  


The people that paid 119 dollars per person to have a tour guide were watching Wendi and Jenny going down the rapids with air leaking and a panicky Jenny. 

Jenny will share with you that she has anxiety. The mountains have been a challenge or any new experience, since we've been out but wendi is her opposite. Scared of nothing and taking names. They make such a great pair. 


Jenny is saying to Wendi, " why did we do this? Why did you let me make the decision to do this? We're gonna sink. We have no life vests. Wendi, why did we do this?"  Wendi was trying to reassure her, while paddling, holding her finger in the leak and flipping water out of the boat. 


At one point, they said the tour guided boat stopped and waited for them to make it through. At which time , Wendi and Jenny acted cool, like nothing was wrong. As soon as the big boat was outta sight, Wendi and Jenny were bailing water out of the boat and trying to keep the one side that was going flat out of the water.  


I wish you could have seen them tell me about it when they got home. I was laughing so hard as they unfolded the scene for me. Trying to be so cool while the big boat was watching , then trying desperately to keep it from sinking.


We all laughed until we cried. If you want to know if there are pictures. There are. There is also a video. I will have to see if I can procure that for all of us to watch. 


Lesson for white water rafting. 

Life vests

Helmets

Intact boat

Valium? Lol


Hope that everyone has a wonderful Saturday. I love you. Always, kimmee


Ps. I did a thing. 6 or 8 inches cut.i feel so much lighter.