Martha Stewart Of The Ozarks

The whole gang at Celebration City, Branson

Chris, Jeremy and Adam, Laquey School Library

The pumpkin is still on the front porch and the bowl on the table is full of candy. Halloween is just two days away. But look out the day after Tricks or Treats. Each November 1st you can hear women everywhere take in a moment of silence. The silence before the storm. The storm will include dare devil shopping for just the right turkey, eyeing up the bird to see if he will feed everyone you expect and those who may show up unexpected. The holidays are fast approaching and excitement is in the air.

I even heard there was a shortage of pumpkins. That alone will cause people to lose all common sense and become obsessed in laying in supplies. I don't even relish the thought and sounds of shopping carts weaving carelessly in and out of narrow isles, pitting myself against other "shoppers" as we try to fill our list.

My older sister Patti swears by her "organic" turkey she buys every year at double the price of a regular store bought turkey. She buys from a local organic farmer that free ranges his birds with no pesticides and preservatives. This past week she got the chance to visit this farm and now will always buy from them. You can check them out at the web site below. The farm is in Conway. You'll need to get your order in soon since these turkeys are still on the hoof.

In the coming weeks I will start posting easy and simple ways you can entertain friends and family without breaking the bank. November and December are the months to have parties big and small, gathering friends and family together to share a simple meal or an all out Ozark feast. I'll show you how to make festive napkins rings out of foil and my secrets to a smooth and tender homemade pie crust.

Entertaining should be fun and the expressions on your guest faces should show you that all your efforts were worth it. So take it easy these next two days. Put your feet up, eat a little candy laugh with the kids.....then brace yourself for the onslaught of the HOLIDAYS. Together we can make it the most fun filled, joyous time they are supposed to be. May our families come together and truly give thanks for our great nation. A nation that is under attack from all sides and needs it's people to regain the respect and dignity she once had. We need to pray for our leaders and our armed forces as they defend and protect her in these troubling times. In our day to day struggles with the economy we often forget we are at war.

So till next time keep your family close and your soup hot. Aunt Onie
Here is my mother in-law' Lillian's favorite Salisbury steak recipe. This recipe is so good that you'll fix it often! Perfect for a cold winters meal.
Salisbury Steak
Take a pound of hamburger (chuck or round if you can afford it) and dice a whole onion into it. Add some bread crumbs or dry a few slices of bread the day before and one egg. Add salt and pepper and season salt. Pat into patties or balls which ever you prefer and brown well on each side in a large skillet. Once browned on both sides drain off any fat and return to heat. Add one can of mushroom soup and one can of can milk (carnation) and simmer over low to medium heat till bubbly. Stir often so not to stick and cover for fifteen or twenty minutes. Serve with mashed potatoes and a green vegetable for a well rounded and nourishing meal. Now that's eating!
Organic Farm in Conway:
Bechards Farms
http://www.bechardfarm.com

Make Someone Special

A doll Grandma Hart gave to me


Grandma's St. Louis Rent Receipt


Eight of Grandma's children

Grandma Estella Inez Hart was a wonderful, strong willed and inspirational woman. I only knew the old part of her but Momma, long after Grandma's passing, began to shed some light on this unique woman's life. Grandma was born into a very large family. Her Momma was a hard working farm wife and her Daddy was a part time farmer and part time preacher.

Great Grandpa Rhodes was a strict man who didn't believe women should be educated or self sufficient. He made my Grandma quit school in the third grade and put her to work as a field hand for other farms along with her brothers. Grandma didn't let that stop her love of books and slowly began a collection of any books people would graciously give her. In a small little cabin there wasn't any place to hide her precious collection so she hid them in a hollowed out tree. When ever she was finished working for the day and her own chores were done she would sneak off to the tree to read till the last rays of sunlight faded into the hills.

Grandpa Rhodes eventually caught her and burnt all of her books. As she watched the covers of those cherished books slowly curl up in black smoke and flames Grandma vowed to her self that someday she would have all the books she could read in a life time.

When times got tough for the family and food was scarce Grandpa would leave the house and travel to other farms taking his Bible. It would insure him a good meal with the right family. Sometimes he would be gone for weeks leaving the young boys to hunt and gather a small meal for the others.

Grandma soon became of age and married John Hart. A good looking young farmer with jet black hair. Together they raised fourteen children. Momma often told me that Grandma would leave the older girls in the house to cook and clean while she would plow the fields. She would come in at noon and breast feed the baby and go back to the fields and plow till dusk. Many hard years later she fell out of love with Grandpa Hart. When all the children were almost grown Grandma took her youngest girl (Momma) and caught the train from Vichy to St. Louis. She never looked back.

Life didn't get much easier for her and Momma but at least she was a free woman. She worked as a cleaning woman and even once took a job in a "Speak Easy" making illegal gin. Grandma Hart even after all those births was a beautiful woman and soon as many "suitors" began to call on her. Momma said many bankers and business men began to court her. Grandma would never be another mans wife again. She never wanted to give up her freedom to be a free thinking woman. When Momma met daddy and wanted to get married Grandma was totally against it and refused to go to the wedding. I'm sure Momma kept looking at the door at the justice of the peace where they were married, just hoping Grandma would show up. She didn't but soon came to love my father as her own son. He cherished her as well.

Daddy gave Grandma a little mobile home right next to our house and that is where I came in. I practically lived with her. With a house full of brothers and sisters I often felt neglected and invisible. I never felt special except for Grandma. She told me stories and read to me every night. She told me I was special and let me sleep on her goose down feather mattress. I got to wear one of her silk night gowns and I remember listening to her prayers that sometimes went on for hours. She kept ten clocks in her house and the gentle sound of the ticking and her whispered prayers would lull me to sleep. There was no one like my Grandma. She had crinkling eyes and the softest skin. When company was coming she sat in her old white rocker and put her makeup on. I can still remember the red lip stick she wore and the worn but colorful long dresses. You never saw her that she didn't have a book on her lap. Reading was her passion. Her life was full of hardships and hard work but she never let that dampen her enthusiasm for life. When she developed cancer for the second time in her eighties, Momma took care of her and all of us kids. It soon became to much for Momma and Grandma called her other older daughters and went to live out the rest of her life with them. She passed away two weeks after she left our house. There will never be another woman like her. Her spirit would never be dampened. I cherish my memories of her and the way she made me feel so special. She saw something in me and spoke to that part of me that needed to feel special. We were kindred spirits and I will never forget her. So look around at your friends and family. Is there someone that could use a little "special" treatment? It only takes a little time on your part to make someone feel "special". I can only hope that someone comes into your life to make you feel as special as my Grandma did for me. Aunt Onie
A speakeasy was an establishment which illegally sold alcoholic beverages during the period of United States history known as Prohibition (1920–1932, longer in some states). During this time, the sale, manufacture, and transportation (bootlegging) of alcohol was illegal.

The term may have come from a patron’s manner of ordering an alcoholic drink without raising suspicion—bartenders would tell patrons to be quiet and “speak easy,"[1] or from the ability of patrons to talk of alcohol without having to fear that government officials would be listening.

Junior High And The Friends You Shared It All With

Pat Brown, Evelyn, Liz Ballard and unknown in front of the Waynesville Junior High building 1968

Back in the late Sixties I attended Waynesville Jr High with the best friends a girl could ask for. Donna, Maureen, Candy and I shared some of the best days of our lives in that two story building. We sat before and after school on the hard cement wall ledge and dandled our legs and drank coke out of a little cup. Back then things came in "moderation". Super size wasn't heard of. We got our Coke and Sprite out of a machine that dropped down a small five ounce cup and then poured it full of your "two" choices. Sometimes the cup would drop down upside down spilling your precious soda down the drain. There was a machine in front of the principals office that carried new pencils (I loved new pencils) and note book paper. We all wore mini shirts and dresses and bell bottom pants. On weekends we wore hip hugger blue jeans with boys shirts tails. We were cool. There was a white foot rail in front of our school and we hung out there a lot with a few boys who could play a guitar like nobodies business. Randy Willits and Kellis Williams entertained us all.
We played girls basketball in those days and I think I was a Rover. Back then a Rover was a person that could play both sides of the court. I loved sports almost as much as I loved dancing. "Sock Hops" were held in our gym where all the boys and girls took off their shoes and danced the night away in their socks to real live bands. We slid all over the floor. A lot of good times were had in that gym from sock hops to white elephant sales to basketball games. We even had this gigantic ball we played where one team pushed on one side and the other team pushed on the other, each trying to get this huge ball across their line. It was a blast.

Mrs Dye was our Home Ec teacher and I enjoyed her class till the dreaded day she sent me to the Principals office for the length of my dress. You see the night before I had spent the night with my much older sister and away from my mother's eyes I had hemmed a mini dress.....HEMMED A MINI DRESS! What was I thinking? Anyway she bent down to my desk and said I needed to go to the Principals office. I remember taking that long walk up from the Home Ec room around the corner to the Principal's Office. Mr. Hardman (I believe that was his name) asked me to put my knee on the chair seat and said my dress needed to touch the seat to be allowed. I was so embarrassed as I did what he asked, knowing full well my dress was nowhere near that seat. I had to call my sister to come and get me! I was so embarrassed. I don't think my Mom ever found out about that day for I know it never happened again! Besides that one unfortunate incident Junior High was a blast! We were just coming into our own and everything was new and exciting. It was also a life altering time too. My father died when I was in the 7th grade and my best friend's parents divorced the same year. When I turned fourteen my other best friend Janie passed away from a fast growing cancer. She was the most kindest and gentlest girl I have ever known. We adjusted to these blows and in our lives and shared many wonderful times in that old school house.

I had the chance to go by the old Junior High School a month ago and couldn't resist the urge to stop. I pulled to the curb where all the school buses used to park and walked up the the big front steps where all of us cool kids used to sit and dangle our legs. I tipped toed up to the door window and peered inside. Nothing had changed! There was the big cold cement steps that lead to the second floor and the double doors to the gym....our gym! Those were wonderful times and hard times but I wouldn't have missed them for the world. I still stay in touch with Maureen and Candy and email Donna almost everyday. I can still hear the echo of our laughter as we walked down those halls, young girls and boys teetering on the edge between childhood and adulthood. Those innocent girls and guys are now teetering in their fifties with children and grandchildren in their lives but it's always fun to go back to those days of sock hops, coke cups and mini shirts. Till next time just remember...never hem a mini! Aunt Onie

Our Teachers

Aunt Onie's 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Mumford


Jeremy's fourth grade class visits the Missouri State Capitol

Aunt Onie's 4th grade report card
Adam and Jeremy at Jer's graduation from Drury College

Every one has one. Their favorite teacher that is. Mine was Mrs. Mumford, my fourth grade teacher. Mrs. Mumford turned my life around and set me on a life long pursuit of the literature world. Before Mrs. Mumford came into my life I was totally disinterested in my studies and my grades showed it. Nothing clicked for me and I didn't care if my homework was turned in on time or paid the least bit attention of what the teacher was trying to impart to me. I just plain didn't care....till the day I entered "her" class.

The first thing she did was attacked me where I lived....my vanity and pride. She put me up to the blackboard beside Billy, the most popular boy in my class and gave us each the same math problem. Billy worked feverishly on the multiplication problem carrying each column over to the next while I, chalk in hand just stood there starring blankly at the gigantic problem in front of me. I can still feel all those eyes boring into my back as the silence became deafening. It wasn't long till I began to hear a few snickers as Billy took his seat while I stood staring at the blackboard. I could feel my face going red as I resisted the urge to run as fast as I could out of that class. If only the bell would ring! Something to get me out of this terrible situation! Mrs. Mumford voice was calm as she told me I could take my seat. Though she didn't saying any thing more I could hear the disappointment in her voice. I never wanted to hear that disappointment again and from that day on I never did. I worked hard and paid attention to the front of the class not the back. I studied hard at home with my Mom quizzing me on my multiplication tables till I knew them frontwards and back. As the months went by in her class Mrs. Mumford encouraged my efforts with praise and approval. Now when she called me to the board to face off with another student I held my own. I can still feel the chalk in my hand as my hand flew across the board quickly carrying each column over till the problem was done.

She encouraged my love of writing and reading and made book reports so fascinating I couldn't wait to see how many I could turn in. Mrs. Mumford changed my life. She set the standard of learning that I would carry into the rest of my education. In other words she laid the ground work of who I was to become, a writer. I could never repay her for what she has given me and lord knows how many thousands of other students she influenced in her teaching career.

Mrs. Agnes Mumford no longer walks this earth but her love of teaching has left a remarkable impression on me. We desperately need more teachers like her. Teachers who go the extra mile for their students to finally "get it". To see the light come on in a child's face when they master the three R's. My two sons and two daughter in-laws are now teachers. They now have the ability to change the course of someones life. A great responsibility no doubt, but the chance to open a child's mind to learning is the greatest gift a teacher could give. An avalanche of obstacles face our teachers today as they try to reach and teach children with so much emotional baggage of broken homes, violence, abuse and neglect, making their jobs difficult as well as dangerous. But the rewards of a good teacher out weigh the obstacles they often face and they continue on. On to one more class, that soon turns into another semester, another year, till that teacher has influenced a sea of children's faces. Can you imagine the amount of lives a good teacher will touch in a thirty year career? An amazing feat and an amazing testament of a good teacher.

A good teacher never labels a child to be a good student or a bad student. Each student has the ability to change and succeed if she or he only wishes it, and the right teacher to show them the way. A good teacher shows their students there are no boundaries to their education, no limits to how much they can achieve if they have the determination to do it. For no matter how old we are we never stop learning till we take our last breath.

So I take my hat off to the teachers of our great nation. They don't get the recognition they so well deserve for in their hands they are molding our future leaders, workers, inventors, artist, doctors and writers. What a wonderful profession....teachers. Where would you be without that one teacher that changed your life???? I will never forget you Mrs. Mumford or the gift of learning you so graciously gave me. Aunt Onie
Today my family of teachers will be celebrating my youngest son Jeremy's Birthday. He has requested my "Mile High Chocolate Cake". Below is the recipe. Happy Birthday Jer!!!!
MILE HIGH CHOCOLATE CAKE
Start with any chocolate cake mix you have on hand. Prepare as directed and pour into three pie pans lined with wax paper. Bake as directed and place on layer on the bottom of a large tort bowl. Prepare chocolate pudding about fifteen minutes before cake comes out of the oven (this will allow the pudding to set) and pour enough to cover top and a little of the sides of the cake. Spoon three tablespoons of whipped cream over the top, lavishing enough to spill over the sides and repeat again with another layer of cake, pudding and cool whip till you finish the last layer of cake. The top layer of cake will be frosted with chocolate frosting, (homemade or bought). Frost the top and and sides and garnish top with a large dollop of cool whip and shaved Hersey bar. Serve with chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Now that's a cake fit for a Birthday Boy!!

Friendships With Our Siblings

You hear a lot of people saying they can't stand to be around their brothers or sisters. Not so for our family. We can't stand to be apart! When we get together it's always a party! Growing up with four sisters and two brothers there was never a dull moment in our house. It was all mother could do to keep a little control from the endless chatter, laughter, singing, music and teasing that went on in that little house on Y Hwy. If you had a nightmare you just woke up your sister and told her all about it. If I got a toothache in the middle of the night my brother would sit up with me till the toothache ointment numbed the pain. If you wanted to scare the bejebbers out of your little sister someone was always there to lend a hand.

Through all this my brothers and sisters have become my best friends. We have seen each other through hard times and celebrated all of the good times. Our childhood memories are intertwined like that of a tapestry. Your siblings were there all through your childhood. The pranks my brother pulled on my older sister were priceless,like the time Momma told Patti to put the cat out that went under the bed. My brother a few minutes earlier had put on my mothers fake fur coat and crawled under the bed. My mother was in on this one as she told Patti to put the cat out from under the bed. The lights were down low and I can still see Patti reaching under that bed calling out "here kitty kitty" till she felt the fur and assumed it was the kitty till the "kitty" began pulling HER under the bed. You should have heard the screams! Priceless! My sides hurt from laughing as my brother crawled out. Man she was mad!

Like all other siblings we fought, bickered and tried to boss each other. This always resulted in someone screaming out "You're not my Mother!" Or the ever popular name calling that ended with, "I know you are but what am I?" You could fight like cats and dogs with your siblings but let some other kid hit your sister and you were all over them! You always stuck up for your siblings. I once socked a much bigger girl then me right in the nose for putting pepper on my sisters ice cream cone. I learned quickly who to start a fight with based on size.

Now take all those relationships between seven siblings and double that with brother in-laws and sister in-laws! Now you really have a party! This past week end we had the chance to throw caution to the wind and pack up four of our siblings and mates to spend the weekend at my sister Patti's little house in Springfield. We all drove separately up there with Larry and I taking the scenic route on old 66. If you ever get the chance to do that I would highly recommend this trip. You can see so much more landscape and Missouri's beauty then hitting the over packed interstate.
Larry and I got to Patti's first, followed closely behind by Bev and her husband Rob. Last and always last was my brother Mike and his wife Lizabeth. Lizabeth is known by our family as the "Good Will Ambassador". At all our get togethers she walks everyone out to their car when they are leaving, gives them all a hug goodbye and stands there and waves as they drive out of sight. She never takes sides and always gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. She has also been called Pollyanna.

With all our marriages combined we have over 123 years of wedded bliss. Through all these years my brother in-laws and sister in-laws have become my brothers and sisters. They are my siblings. We fight, argue and laugh together. We also know how to push each other's buttons. This past weekend was no different as we teased each other and laughed like crazy. As all the females found comfortable rocking chairs and got caught up on all what was going on in each others lives, all the men checked out the latest video games in the computer room. Over two buckets of KFC we laughed and talked about everything under the sun. When we are all together we laugh. We laugh till our sides ache and our voices get hoarse. We love just being together. We are closer then friends, we're family.

Our family became even closer when our oldest brother lost his battle with cancer. He was our mentor, our big brother. We measured our success by his success and when he died we closed our ranks. We tell each other we love them. We show each other all the time how much they mean to us. Even though we drove poor Momma crazy with our endless laughter, I always think that Momma must have been happy knowing her children were so close to each other and got along. Your siblings are the ones that have seen you in your highs and lows. They have been there when you have failed and succeeded, lost and won. If you're lucky enough to have a family like mine you know that you're never alone. Someone is just a phone call away. Someone is there to make an ant hill out of your mountain. That's what siblings do for each other. So if you have five brothers and sisters or just one, cherish that relationship because there's no other like it. They know your fears, faults and dreams, they are your siblings, and only you know who Mom loved more......... make some time to spend with your siblings for no one knows you better....Aunt Onie

Halloween Pasts

Looking back through the years Halloween was always my favorite Holiday. As a kid if Halloween fell on a weekday that was great. The anticipation on the school bus was electrifying and contagious. Some of the kids in our neighborhood were pretty low income and this was a chance to get all the candy your little heart desired. It all depended on how much walking you were willing to do to get it. I can tell you there was a lot of determined kids on that bus. We were good kids and we knew the first thing we had to do before we could start collecting all that candy was to go door to door and collect for needy kids through UNICEF. The funny thing was we didn't think we were needy kids! I can still see that UNICEF box that looked like a brown carton of milk. Right after school we hurried through the neighborhood knocking on doors of all the houses and trailers who had people home. "Trick or Treats for UNICEF"! we called out. Right before dark we hurried back with our UNICEF cartons that jingled with pennies and nickels. Mom always had us put some of our own change (if we had any) in that little box before we went off to "dress out". I can remember those Halloweens like it was yesterday. Back in 1963 parents didn't have to go with their children. We had brothers and sisters to keep us safe as we ran door to door. Mom fed us all before we sat out as well as a few neighbor kids. That night she would feed a vast array of monsters, princesses, pirates and one lone ghost. The ghost was my brothers best friend Leroy. Leroy was a ghost every year. The only thing he could afford was an old sheet. I can still smell my cheap plastic mask I wore each year. The tight elastic that went around my head drove me crazy and was hard to see out of. The neighborhood looked different at night to us and held such an element of suspense and excitement. If it was rainy and misty all the better! Our neighborhood was as safe as you could get because you knew everyone all your life. You also knew what you were going to get at each house because they had the same thing every year. The Grosvenors always gave out wonderful home made pop corn balls. The Thompson's had a little filling station at the top of the Highway and always had a huge metal tub full of soda's of every kind. The Mckinnons across the street gave out apples and oranges (we hit their house last). My mother gave out all the bags she had on hand and my little sister Bev ended up with what ever Mom could find. That year Bev ended up with a C&H sugar bag. We must have walked over two miles and covered as many house as we could saving the jack pot till the end. That jack pot was the biggest trailer park in the world, Hickory Hills. This was easy picking because the mobile homes were parked so close together. You could fill your bags so quickly there. The only problem was the endless stretch of streets that lay before you. This was a BIG mobile home park. As we neared the last roll of homes our bags now were so full we could hardly carry them. I looked over to my little sisters and Debbie's bag was full to the top. I then looked at Bev's empty hands. "Where's you bag I shouted"! Bev just pointed to the far end of the street and there sat her C&H bag right there in the middle of the road where she had just put it down and walked off. I had to run all the way down there to retrieve her candy treasure that she just abandoned because of the weight! Sisters! Traveling back home we must of looked like a weary bunch of misfits being lead by one lone tall ghost. Everyone was quiet as we contemplated on how much bounty we had in our bags. I never stopped to look at what was dropped into my bag and now I was wondering what all was in there. A Hersey bar was a prized possession in those days and I think I saw several go into my bag. Mom was always trilled to see us home safe and sound and made sure the living room was spread out so we could empty our bags and begin the serious job of "sorting". Candy bars in one pile, suckers in another and fruit and cookies and pop corn balls in yet another pile. Then Mom began her work examining all home made snacks and asking where we got them. After all of that was done Bev and Deb curled up in a near by chair and went instantly asleep. We older children began the serious work of "trading". "I'll give you a roll of Lifesavers for a roll of Charms", my brother would ask Patti. "Okay, she answered, but I want a Payday instead. "Deal" Mike replied. This went on for another hour till Mom had enough and sent us to bed. The bounty of that one glorious night left the whole neighborhood of kids in candy for over a month! The money we collected for UNICEF helped a lot of needy kids. For us that wonderful night of Tricks or Treats was a once in a year night to be free to be anything we wanted to be or dared to be, except for one lone ghost, Leroy.
Those days for me are long gone and now as a grandma I will be sharing my favorite night with my two grandsons, but deep down the child inside me still lives and dreams. Remember that our childhood, our children's childhood and our grandchildren's childhood is supposed to be just that.....Childhood. Don't rush it, savor it, for once gone we will never get to relive those wonderful moments again except in our memories. Nurture the child in all of us for it's that child that keeps us forever young. May this Halloween bring out the kid in you. Aunt Onie
Since it's beginning in Philadelphia in 1950, American children have collected $148 million going door to door with those familiar orange containers singing out "trick or treat for UNICEF!"

Grandpa's Gift

My husband Larry and I had the joy of seeing all our sons and daughter-in laws graduate with a college degree. We both have seen all the hard work and determination it took to get them there. We have been privileged to have been a part of their success. As Larry and I parked in the college parking lots and made our way through the mass of friends and families of these college graduates Larry began to notice something. Every where he looked were mothers and grandmothers. There were little old ladies using walkers, canes and wheelchairs, determined to share in that special moment with their grandchildren. What Larry noticed was missing or who was missing was the lack of grandfathers. This had a lasting impression on my husband since he has turned 58. That was one year older then his father was when he passed away. His dad had missed out on so much and Larry didn't want that to be his fate. Since becoming a grandpa for the first time he wanted so much to be able to see his grandson grow up and be a part of his life and achievements. As for me I never got the chance to meet my grandfathers, and had always felt a missing piece to my life. Larry was a lot luckier then I was. He grew up with his grandpa living next door to him. His Grandpa Hill taught him how to fish, hunt and throw a baseball. Things his father with two jobs never had time for. His Grandpa Hill played a vital role in Larry's upbringing. He taught him how to play fair and to be honest and upright. His other Grandpa Plez taught him the value of a dollar. Grandma would give Larry and his sister each fifty cents when they spent the weekend at their farm and right before they left to go home Grandpa took it back! Grandpas are important people. They are much needed in today's society. The problem with a lot of our youth today is the lack of a grandfather's influence. A grandfather is a great teacher. They are more relaxed then their sons. They are more patient when it comes to teaching children. They are easier to talk to and less inclined to judge. You see, they been there already. They've walked those miles, endured hardships and trials and are wiser for it. They are able to focus more on the simple things in life and children are simply drawn to them. If you are lucky enough to have a grandpa in your life, cherish him, for he is a valued and rare commodity. Listen to him, for his wisdom comes from experience. He has made many mistakes in his life and knows the pitfalls. Be open to sharing time with him and you will reap all the benefits from this relationship. Lastly, we need to take care of our grandfathers so they can be there to witness and share all your important milestones in your life. Above all else a grandfather is to be respected and honored. What they can add to your family is priceless.
Larry is not about to lose out on one moment with our grandchildren. He cherishes every day he gets to spend time with little Noah or Cannon Joe. I have also noticed that the time he spends with his sons brings him such joy. As we anticipate the arrival of our third grandchild he is more then ever a part of their lives. Last week my grandson Noah came running into the kitchen shouting "Papa made me a tunnel! Papa made me a tunnel for my train! I looked past him at the radiant smile of my husband. He was making more then a tunnel, he was making memories. Till next time may you have the chance to know the value of a grandfather's gift. Aunt Onie

JFK Fitness Badge/ Obesity in our Young

On a cold and windy Nov in 1963 I sat with my 3rd grade classmates when our classroom speaker hissed and cracked (a sign our Principal was about to make an announcement). The classroom hushed as we waited for his familiar deep voice. "Will all teachers please come to the principals office immediately!", he announced with urgency. I can remember like it was yesterday as our beautiful Polynesian teacher put Billy Ablin in charge as she rushed out the door. Staring at each other we whispered what could be so important that all teachers had to leave their classrooms. You could just feel the tension in the air. Our pretty petite teacher returned to our class a few minutes later with tears streaming down her face. She gained control of herself and stood in the center of the class and made the announcement that no one would ever forget. "Students, the President of the United States, John F Kennedy has been shot and killed." I can still hear the gasp my whole class let out.
Though this great man was gone he left a lasting impression on this third grader. You see earlier that same year we all participated in the John F Kennedy's Physical Fitness program. The President's Council on Youth Fitness was founded on July 16, 1956 to encourage American children to be healthy and active, after a study showed that American youths were less physically fit than European children, by then President Dwight D. Eisenhower. In 1963, President Kennedy changed it's name to the "President's Council on Physical Fitness". He saw the need to include all Americans to become physically fit. In 1961 he was quoted as saying, "We have become more and more not a nation of athletes but a nation of spectators."
That spring in 1963 I was determined to win that award. Our teacher told us about the program and proudly showed us what the award looked like. To get the JFK Award you had to perform (successfully) the 50 yard dash, the softball throw and various sprints. Back then I could just about out run any boy my age and I would laugh at the delicate girls who could only throw the softball a few feet. A few feet! Could you imagine that? I grew up around my brothers and his friends. If you couldn't throw a rock over fifty feet you were worthless. That was the year I threw the softball eighty feet. I can remember this easily as I watched the coach walk out the long measuring tape to where my ball hit the ground. "Eighty feet", he called out. I couldn't wait to get home and tell my mother. Poor Mom, she always said she would send me to school in a nice dress and watched me jump off the bus with the hem out and dirt all over my face. What can I say, I loved sports! Whether it was jump rope, tag or tether ball I was there! Now a days sports have to take a back seat to the computer, television and video games. Our kids have become stationary couch potatoes. Getting up just to get something to eat or drink. Take a drive through any neighborhood and see how many kids you see outside playing. Odds are it will be zero. Parents don't have the time and kids usually don't have siblings to lead them into play. Team that up with the amount of chemicals and lord know what else in the processed food their eating and it's no wonder that the number of overweight kids 6-11 have more then doubled then kids twenty years ago. Most of these kids will become over weight adults carrying mass amounts of excess weight wearing down their bodies and self esteem. When I was a kid Mom would run us out of the house and we were forced to find something to do. With 4.5 children per family back then it was easy to get a game of whipple ball going or hide and seek. We played till the last kid got called to come home. I can still see our porch light from the big field where we played and my Mom standing in the doorway calling us in. I was physically fit back then. I would never had wanted to miss out on that feeling. You know the feeling where you can run like a deer with the wind in your face. It was a feeling of being totally ALIVE. Every child should know how that feels. To be over weight is like taking a child's childhood away from them. It all goes back to the kitchen. Parents don't cook anymore. Takeout is the main stay for many kids. The child is not buying the groceries or driving up to the take out window. Parents are. Parents are parking their child in front of the TV because it's easier then taking the time to toss a ball in the front yard after school. It is our responsibility to prepare and present the right kinds of food for our children. It's all about getting back to the basics. The right choices will make a child fit and healthy. Guide your child's eating habits and share play time. Teach them to play 'red light, green light, tag and red rover, red rover. It worked for us it can work for them. Don't deprive them of feeling physically fit. There is no feeling in the world better then this.
Back in 1963 that wonderful spring day I heard the pop gun go off and I was running as fast as my legs could carry me. There must have been ten kids ahead of me in that race but I pushed hard and watched as one by one I blew past them till there was just one kid ahead of me. I leaned into the wind and felt the muscles in my legs stretch out with each stride. I was determined to be first. Completely out of breath and a terrible stitch in my side I could see the finish line a few yards ahead of me. I pressed on with all I had left and easily pulled ahead of the boy. I can still see all the faces at the finish lines cheering me on and the overly confident look on my face as I turned into the infield. I had won, or so I thought. Why was everyone screaming at me? It wasn't one lap around that big field, it was two! I now was last in the race. It didn't matter though, what mattered to me was that I had tried and how it felt to compete. There was no better feeling in the world. The next time you feel like you are depriving your child from having that extra helping, think instead of what you will be depriving them of if you do. A life time of being "Physically Fit". Till next time may you feel the wind in your face and feel truly alive....Tag, your it! Aunt Onie

Living up to Your Name

With the up coming birth of my third grand child the topic of names have ruled most of our conversations. I put my request in early and to my amazement my name suggestion was promptly dismissed. I'm big on names. I believe you will become whatever your names suggest. As a child I rode the bus with my siblings and we all made fun of "little Aurthur". He was this little kid with big glasses and carried a huge plaid satchel. The biggest thing about Aurthur was his satchel. He was so little in fact that the bus driver would often pass him up all together. In unison the whole bus would shout "you forgot Aurthur!". He lived up to his name.
My youngest son was great at shooting three pointers when it came to basketball. He hit so many that everyone began calling him Bird, (for "Larry Bird") the all time three point king. This nickname became his calling card when our team was behind in a game and we needed to score. "Bird" always came to the rescue scoring as much as four three pointers in one game! He lived up to his name.
As a child I often wondered why Mom named all my brothers and sisters very "normal" names like Patti, Debra, Beverly, Sharon, Mike and Jerry and saw fit to name me Ione. What was she thinking? I couldn't even tell you how many times I was teased as a child about my name. "Iown,you own what"?, or the famous I One. Kids would tease me so much I just wanted to change my name to anything besides Ione.
Nicknames were also very big when I was young. Everyone had one. My youngest sister was called Debo. I don't know where that came from. Another sister was named Sneve. My brother although he loves me dearly had his own names for me as we were growing up. "Long nose ape" was his favorite. "Bony Onie" was another. Looking at the picture of me in this blog you will know where that name came from. Because of my dark hair and long nose he often told me I was adopted and no matter how many times Momma told me I wasn't I always had that nagging suspicion he was right. All my other siblings had fair hair and small noses.....could it be true? I did stand out from the others and what about my different name? Somehow through it all I made it to adulthood. The names we give each other stay with us our whole life so be careful of the names you choose. I can remember a very timid tall red headed boy who often cried on the school bus. It wasn't long till everyone started calling him Niagara Falls. Twenty years later I saw his picture and name on a plaque for serving his Country with honor. Somewhere along the way he shed his nickname.
I have come to admire and embraced my given name. As a child I just wanted to fit in but now I am happy to be known for my uniqueness. When my mother told me that my name was Greek and meant lavender colored stone, I thought wow, that's cool! Embrace your name and all it means. It's who you are. So to all the Donna's, Paul's and Susan's or the Apples, Star and Manfred's I hope you embrace your name. Make it your own. I can name some famous people with common names, Betsey Ross comes to mind, as well as Robert Redford,Ben Franklin and Brad Pitt. Then there are your uncommon famous people like Einstein, Mozart and Ludwig. We're all unique in our own name. Parents take your time when it comes to naming your child. Ask yourself would you be able to live with that name. What kind of person will this name stand for. Would I liked to have been named Jane???? At one time in my life I would have answered differently yes, not so today. I like my name. It's unique....like me. Till next time always remember if a loved one or friends give you a nickname it's because you are loved. Aunt Onie

The Power Of Words

Criticism, judgement, and rudeness can slide off our tongues so easily. Why is it that a few words of praise, compliments and politeness become so hard for some of us to give toward others. Some habits are hard to break but for those who succeed in life can abstain that praise, compliments and politeness opened more doors in their professional and private relationships then going the easier route. With the right use of words you hold the power to make someones day wonderful and full of confidence or the beginning of a terrible day full of self doubt and pain. If you lack faith in what I'm saying do your own little test. Tell your husband he's a good man and an excellent father. Comment (positively) about something you saw him do yesterday or last week. Watch his face for a reaction. Tell a parent that their parenting skills are really paying off in the way their children play with others. Not only will they feel good but they are more apt to focus more on how they teach their children social skills. Tell a coworker that you admire their work ethics. Positive social skills produce positive reactions. This may feel uncomfortable and awkward for you at first but believe me in time it will come to you as easily as breathing. It's a win win situation, where everyone around you reaps the benefits. So give a lift to someones life and you just may be giving one back to yourself. Momma always said, "If you can't say something nice about somebody, don't say nothing at all."
In this day and age of computers, texting and email, we are losing our "people" skills. Our relationships are managed with a touch of a button. No wonder we are losing our social skills.
Begin this day with at least one compliment to a friend, co worker, child, parent or spouse. It's the little things you can do that add up to big rewards down the road.
Today, my family will be getting together to celebrate my daughter in-laws Birthday. She has requested my pork chops and brown gravy dinner. She never ask for much and is very easy to please. She's a wonderful daughter and has given us our wonderful grandson Noah,who has become (along with his cousin Cannon Joe) the center of Larry and my life. Now to top it all off she and my son Jeremy have given us more wonderful news....another grand baby will be sitting at our table in May! What a wonderful event to look forward to. Dare I dream it may be a girl!?? What ever God grants us we will be so grateful. So here's to your Monday. May you start it off right by showering a compliment or praise on someone. Any may someone compliment you. For those who are interested here is my Birthday Pork Chop Dinner recipe.
Happy Birthday Paige!!!!
Aunt Onie
Smothered Pork Chop Dinner
Start with a 1/4 cup cooking oil or olive oil, peel and chop one whole onion and saute in oil till nice and tender. These precious dripping will later become the base of your brown gravy. Lightly flour 4 to 6 center cut pork chops. Add salt and pepper. Brown chops at least 5 to 8 minutes on each side till nice and brown. When finished take chops up and place on a platter. Now the hard part begins. I watched my Mother for years till I finally got this right. You may have to drain a little of your excess oil off. You only want enough to be able to add your flour to make a skillet full of gravy. It should take about 2 tablespoons of flour to your remaining oil drippings. This is where all your flavor will be. Take a wooden spoon and stir the flour into the drippings till nice and smooth. Stir this over medium heat till it becomes light brown. This is the trick. If you add your water too soon you won't have rich brown gravy, so keep stirring till all the onions and meat drippings turn into a rich brown color. Add salt and pepper. You will be adding water not milk to make your gravy. Pork gravy takes water, chicken gravy takes milk. When it becomes the right color pour a cup of warm water into the mixture and stir. The gravy will thicken immediately and will require constant stirring to avoid any lumps. Extra warm water may be required if gravy becomes too thick. Now return to a low setting and place chops in gravy making sure all chops are covered in gravy. Cover with a lid on low heat for another 30 to 40 minutes. Serve with mashed potatoes for a wholesome dinner everyone should love. The pork chops should be tender and full of flavor. Enjoy..... Aunt Onie

Cooking With Momma

Now that my two sons, Adam and Jeremy have grown-up and started their own family, my days of cooking up a storm have slowed down. My husband Larry is content to eat lighter meals and is quite easy to please. When ever the kids decide they want Mommas cooking I can really get the kitchen heated up. The act of cooking up a big meal aways brings back memories of our dear sweet Momma. Man that lady could cook. When it came to cooking Momma never took short cuts. Everything was homemade. Beans and ham were a stable for a large family and we had beans and ham at least twice a week. Sunday's meant fried chicken at our house and "real" mashed potatoes and gravy. Garvy was her specialty. Never a lump found. I think I would have put gravy over everything if she let me. With a family of seven I will never know how she made one chicken feed us all. Gathering around Momma's kitchen was wonderful when she was cooking. The smells that came out of that little kitchen could rival any chefs. Momma was big on starting out with a clean kitchen. And little hands were not allowed any where food was being prepared. At the end of a fall day there was a calming and secure feeling as you entered her kitchen as the darkness began to fall. The smell of fired chicken and the warm inviting lights of her kitchen made you feel and know that your were home. So many kids come home to cold and empty kitchens, content to heat up a TV dinner or even worse then that "take out". Growing up our home was where the kids in the neighborhood hung out. Hot vegetables soup, chicken and noodles or hot meatloaf and mashed potatoes were just some of the comfort food you could smell when you got off the bus. I can still remember our next door neighbor coming over to visit and lifting the lids to gaze at what ever Momma had on the stove. Special events were cause for special food and that is when Momma would splurge and buy a beautiful T-bone steak to make her famous Chop Sui. What a dish! The atmosphere in that little kitchen was happy as the smells began to drift through the house with the wonderful aroma of onions, butter and steak browning in the skillet. This was followed by the wonderful smell of soy sauce and all the wonderful oriental vegetables as they began to flirt and dance with the steak and onions. She knew what she was doing that was for sure. Out of five sisters I don't think any of us could make that dish like she could.
On a cold winter day she would surprise my boys with her special sweet rice and raisins. It was their favorite treat from her. Something I'm sure they will never forget because she made it especially for them.
She loved us all and showed it by the home she made for us. Life was not always good to her but she never and I mean never let it diminish her eternal sense of optimism. She always looked toward the positive side of things which drew friends and family to her as surely as a month is drawn to the light. She made all of us girls strive to be just as good of a mother as she was to us. No hurt was too deep that Momma could not heal. If you needed to talk you could always find her at the kitchen table always gazing out that big window.
Though she's gone I can still hear her laughter and the way she lifted her eyebrow mean she meant business. The way the touch of her fine tapered hands could sooth away the worst cold or fever or the way she never eat till everyone was fed. She warmed our bellies with good wholesome food and set a home environment that was cozy and warm. Above all else she nurtured the good in all of us and we are truly blessed to have called her Mom. The next time your in a store and a young child cries out "Momma!" look around at how many womans (young or old) heads jerk toward that sound. Isn't it great to be a Mom? Till next time, may we all be as lucky to leave this world a better place by the love we have shown to others. Aunt Onie

A Childhood Full Of Memories

I grew up in the 1950's where everything was bigger then life. At the age of ten I saw my first colored TV. Wow, and no one was outside turning the antenna! I remember eating out of the first bucket of chicken. Ice cream cones seemed three stories tall and the value of one thin dime made you a millionaire. We had a little ice cream store in our neighborhood and if a dime ever came into your possession if came with quite a dilemma. You see one thin dime could buy you a small coke and a small ice cream or one of the biggest ice cream cones you could ever want to tackle. I always went for the soda and cone. That way I had something in each hand. I can remember standing at the window of the ice cream shop and my sister Patti and I each had a nickel. "Two vanilla cones please", my sister asked politely. Standing there anticipating that lovely cone my eyes dropped to the ground. Staring back at me was a crisp one dollar bill! A whole dollar! I was actually looking at a whole years supply of ice cream cones!!!! Ever so slightly I bent down and picked up the small fortune as my stupid sister catches sight of what I now have clasped tightly in my little hand. "Give it to me and I'll hold it", she whispers to me under her breath. "No!", I hiss back. "It's mine". During this time our cones appear and ice cream begins melting over both our hands as we shuffle for the dollar (the whole time hoping the ice cream lady doesn't see what we have). Finally I believe Patti regained control of the dollar and we ran home to show it to Momma. Poor Momma, another massive problem to solve!
I will never forget the smell of my elementary school. The smell of chalk and floor wax were overwhelming that I can smell it to this day. Not to mention how high the school ceiling was. Or the way our classroom smelled when it rained and you played jacks on the cement floor. At the end of summer Dad would take us to Napier's shoe and clothing store where everyone got new shoes. New shoes was a big deal in our house! With a new pair of PF Fliers I could run faster then anyone in my class!
On weekends and through the summer we got to go to the theatre with it's bright red carpeting and red velvet hand rails. This was when a large pop corn and a jumbo coke was around seventy five cents. If you missed some of the movie you just stayed for the next one, no charge. If you loved the movie you could watch it two or three times, no charge. There was a thing called intermission where you could go to the bathroom or visit the concession stand and every feature began with a cartoon. Those were the days. After school everyone met at the Richardson Rexall Drug Store where there were small jukeboxes on every table and french fries came in a basket. You could buy everything from candy bars to punch bowls at Richardson Rexall Drug store. We got our groceries from Mallow's and Jim's Markets where you could actually pull right up to the store windows not like now where you park a mile away and then walk a mile through the store. The clerks knew you by your first name and even knew which car was yours. Every Saturday night when my brother got off work we went to the "Devils Elbow" market to get Boston baked bean candy and hurried home to watch the horror movie about a giant black spider that terrorized a small town. I can remember sitting with our poor father as he tried to watch Gun Smoke with Matt Dillon while all of us kids crunched nosily on Kitty Clover Potato Chips. He could only stand so much and would yell at us so we quickly learned to soak the chips in our mouth so we wouldn't get banned from the living room.
When you got sick it was off to "Doc Nickols" office where Nurse Helen would take your temperature and wait for Doc to walk in. My little sisters Beverly and Debbie would hold their breath waiting for that door to open and "Doc" to appear. When he did that deep voice of his would say the dreaded words "two CC's nurse", causing Bev's bottom lip to quiver uncontrollably and the start of Deb's footrace with poor Nurse Helen.
On weekends if we had the money we loaded up the car and headed to the Drive In. My brother Mike would get the biggest pot he could find and pop massive amounts of pop corn and filled a large paper bag to the top. Getting there before dusk gave us kids plenty of time to play on the playground underneath the big screen. There was even outside seating if you wanted to watch the movie underneath the stars. I can still remember how the speaker cracked and echoed inside our car and how in the world we all curled up comfortably in the back seat still amazes me.
At the end of the month my mother and father would get very glammed up for a night of dining and dancing. They would go out to Leo's Supper Club on a Saturday night. In the 50's dining was a social event. Momma would wear her fake pearl necklace and dangling earrings. We thought she was beautiful and elegant. Dad wore his double breasted suit. The first thing we did on the following Sunday morning was raid the cold kitchen oven for inside was a treasure of food from Saturday night's feast. There would be huge onion rings, jumbo shrimp and the best dinner rolls you ever tasted.
Back then you bought your soda from a gas station of all places and they came in glass bottles not cans. The milk man came to your door and all most every one's Mom stayed home. We wore pinafores, dresses and skirts to school and the gym clothes were horrible. I can remember our next door neighbor embroidering my name on the front of it. We honored our school and our teachers and we called all our friends parents by Mr and Mrs. It was called respect. Something our parents made sure we had plenty of. These are just a few of the memories I have of growing up. To me if was the best of times. Till next time keep your children towards the simple life and may you make your own special memories... Aunt Onie

Momma Where Do I Come From?

Great Grandpa Hable

No, this is not a post on the Birds and the Bees, but far more important. Where we come from and who we are defines us. How we relate to others depends on how we perceive ourselves. Pretty heady stuff huh? The truth is everyone has a history. Some of us are lucky enough to know that history, while others are still digging for it. As a child we are eager to know where we come from. What were our great grandparents like? Where were they born? As we develop into young adults we struggle with who we are and who we are becoming. We sometimes have conflicts with our parents and it's hard to see a "connection" to them. Looking back at our grandparents, aunt, uncles and great aunts and uncles you can began to relate to them and where your feelings and personalities come from, thus justifying them. Coming from a large family of seven children I loved to find a quiet place and lose myself in a book. My other siblings especially Patti were social butterflies. You could always find her in the kitchen helping Mom or fixing someones hair (with six females in the house grooming was a big thing!) Sitting in a hidden corner somewhere I immersed myself in my book till I heard the familiar and dreaded cry of "Hey, where's Onie?" My hiding place was soon discovered and I was dragged back into the mass of females. I was always fascinated by Momma's stories of our ancestors. My fathers parents came to the US from Czechoslovakia. Grandma and Grandpa grew up just 30 miles apart there but never met till they both settled in St. Louis. My Grandfather was a master cabinet maker. He lived and died way before I was born but I would look at the pictures Momma had of him and stared in amazement at the size of his big strong hands. One day I wondered would my sons have hands like that??? Being the odd duck in my family I always wanted to relate to one of my ancestors who would justify my personality and interests. I think I found her in my "Aunt Frankie". Momma told us about Aunt Frankie and how she was a strong woman who loved to cook and had a house full of children and one husband who she would have to fish out of the local bar on Saturday night. Frankie's house was full of laughter, good smells and friends and family. From the smells and sounds you always knew you getting close to her house. As an adult I can relate to this "Aunt Frankie". It feels good knowing I have a little of her spirit in me. The only grandparent I ever knew was my Grandma Hart. I got my love of books from her. With a strict father she was only allowed to finish third grade but she taught herself how to read early on and at the age of 83 had read the bible four times through. I still have and will always cherish the book she bought and signed for me. Finding out who we are can began by knowing where we come from. Do a little digging through your families history, I bet you'll find "your" Aunt Frankie....Aunt Onie

Family Life with Our Pets

Taking care of our family is a totally time consuming job and adding a family pet can sometimes be overwhelming. At sometime in a person life if they are lucky enough, a creature comes into their lives and they are forever changed. I was blessed twice by two very unique pets who surely drifted into my life by the hand of God. One sunny weekend my husband Larry was on the front porch putting a buckle on a leather belt. He took to the porch because of the natural light. Grumbling into my kitchen he said the darnest thing happened to him outside. A bright red fully grown rooster was out there and wouldn't leave him a lone. He said he shooed it away about five times but the rooster just came back and acted like he was curious to see what my husband was working on. I walked outside to take a look at this curious creature and told my husband to leave it alone and I wanted it to stay here. I told him that God sent him here for a reason and I felt he was going to be special. My husband complained but I held firm and the rooster stayed. As I watched this rooster wander around my yard with his bright red feathers bouncing in the wind, I could hear the British voice of my best friend who passed away the year before. "Roger Dodger" was her favorite phrase. Well Roger Dodger would be his name. Roger came everyday when Larry got home and became Larry's new best friend. He ate out of his hand and put his head in the crook of Larry's arm and just stood there. They became inseparable. There was just something abut Larry that Roger couldn't resist.
The first big family Barbecue came a month after Roger showed up at our door. There were adults and children everywhere, spilling out the front porch to the fire pit and the trampoline. Everywhere you looked were people but not one rooster to be found. Roger was watching this strange commotion from the safety of belly of our old boat. I could only imagine all the smells and noise he was taking all in. After that first get together Roger was never a wall flower again. Within in a month there was another Barbecue and this time Roger was the life of the party. One moment he was eating watermelon with the kids, the next he was standing in line with all the other men admiring the new truck my brother had bought. He would stare for hours just looking at himself in the chrome of that darn truck. He was one of us. I began dressing him up for our special get together by making him a red and black cape with his name on the side. He was so good to just stand on the deck rail while I tied his cape around his neck. I always took his cape off before sunset because I didn't want someone to wreck their car if they saw this red rooster walking down the side of the road with his cape flapping in the wind! The 4th of July was to be a big event at our house so I decorated everything that would stand still, Roger included. By this time anyone could just pick old Roger up and he would just let them pet him. He was the most mild tempered rooster I had ever met. When the party got under way the good times and good food flowed. It wasn't long before sunset closed in. This was Rogers sign to leave the party, it was time to roost. He felt the need to leave and made several attempts at leaving but something always drew him back to the crowd of people. My mother later told me that she saw Roger leaving to go into the forest where he slept in the tree's but a small child saw him and picked him up. She put him back down a few minutes later and Roger looked towards the trees for a brief moment and just turned toward the party and joined everyone again. The time for leaving was gone, too late to make it safely to a tree, out of danger from animals that roamed the night. As the party raged on someone noticed Roger eyeing up the roof of our house. "Hey, someone yelled "Roger needs to get up on the roof to sleep." They gently put him on the deck tent and ever so easy Roger made it to the roof. That was the night that Roger stayed at the party too late. He slept up there all night. Roger was taken from us the next year when he was hit trying to cross the road one cold and foggy morning. We laid him to rest by the line of trees he came out of that wonderful spring morning. Our family would be forever changed by his presence. He gave all of us so much and I think he will never be forgotten by so many who met this strange and wonderful bird. So if you pick your families next pet or like us it picks you I can only hope that the creatures and people God drifts in and out of our life can come to mean as much to you as "Roger Dodger" meant to us.
God has so richly blessed us with Family, friends and pets. I will save the story of "Penny" at a later post. May your family be touched by the unconditional love of that of a pet. Aunt Onie

The Joy of Sharing

Friend or family, if you stop by my house chances are you're going to get fed. Since food is one of our basic needs it only seems logical that this is one that we should share. My mother was the one that taught me this valuable lesson. It began with her when she and my father started out their marriage in ST. Louis in the 1930's. Out of work men and Hobo's would pass through their yard searching for work. My father who highly believed in sharing what ever you had would tell my mother to feed those that passed through. So my mother who was the Queen of stretching a meal would make bread and pass out sandwiches to those down and out but grateful men. She said she would never forget the faces of those men and what it must of meant to them that she shared what little she and dad had. My mother carried this lesson of sharing food as we all grew up. Times were hard but she still found a way to make enough to share with others and shared she did. When we would get off the school bus at the end of the day and started to walk down the dirt road to our house you didn't have to walk far till you could smell the sweet fragrance of cinnamon, yeast and brown sugar and knew Mom had baked her sweet rolls all day. All the counters would be filled with tray after tray of high raised sweet rolls drizzled with Mommas homemade icing. There would be baking dishes full of my prized Poppy Seed rolls a favorite from our grandparents homeland. These were rich rolls full of walnuts, poppy seed, butter and brown sugar lazily sleeping inside layers of moist and tender pastry. As you can see they were my favorite. As soon as we had one roll a piece and a glass of milk Momma gave each of us a large tray and shooed us out the door to deliver them to our much grateful neighbors. Momma was teaching us a valuable lesson as one by one we knocked on those doors and extended those goodies to out stretched hands. I'm sure our neighbors could smell the yeast baking all day and was very excited that Momma would share the fruits of her labor with them. The act of "giving" gave us a wonderful feeling even though we knew the mountain of pots and pans that faced us when we got home. The joy of Sharing is something that should be taught at an very early age, knowing of course that toddlers all go through a "mine" phase that hopefully passes and is replaced by the wonderful feeling you get when you share something with others. Answer me this. If we horde our treasures do they have any value??? Do they only come of value when they are shared with others? For those of you who answer yes to the second question you are a person who is rarely alone because your values attract other people to you. You are most likely a very giving and outgoing person. Teaching our children to share must be taught by example. A giving parent will teach their children the joy of sharing and giving. So start a family tradition of sharing this fall and the up coming Holidays. What ever you decide to do make it a family affair. These are valuable lessons and ethics that will last your child a lifetime. Till my next post may this fall day be filled with pleasant surprises, good food and the chance to experience the joy of sharing. Aunt Onie