Category: Family

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Bluebirds 2 – Cotton Patch

Whenever I see Father Bluebird sitting on top of a nesting box flapping his wings and “singing” in a low raspy voice, I know that there is a Mother bluebird out there watching and listening. The prospective father will go in and examine the proposed home and return to his singing and wing flapping on top of the box until the female comes onto the scene.

Lady Bluebird may go into the box to look around, or she may go into another box first. It seems as though Father Bluebird tries to sell his lady on a particular building site, and if one doesn’t suit her, he carries his amorous display to other boxes. Eventually, the finicky lady decides which one suits her special needs or tastes, and a new family is about to begin. (My husband jokes over the female being so particular in choosing her house, that she gives the male a hard time over details that only women understand. If the plumbing is not in perfect order, or if her kitchen doesn’t suit her fancy, she will have no part of it). She evidently knows what her contribution to this proposed venture is worth, and can well afford to make such reasonable demands! This choosing process can go on for days before any actual building begins.

This spring, we began observing bluebirds in March, and by March 19, a pair had indicated that they would nest in a new blue box by our pear tree. The box is in the same place that an older popular box had been. I am always thrilled when birds choose that spot because it can be easily seen from our kitchen window and from the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard. Without the aid of binoculars, we can watch and keep up with a series of events that was set in order at the creation. When God ordained that every living thing would produce after its own kind, the beautiful russet-breasted bluebird must have been there obediently taking its orders. That you and I today can enjoy the sound and sight of the eastern bluebird (as well as many other wondrous creatures) is a gift from God for which I am truly thankful.

By April 12, our nest had 5 little greenish-blue eggs in it, and we began watching for anything that might threaten the pair of birds in fulfilling their mission. By April 25, all of the babies had successfully hatched out, and the parents began their feverish work of feeding the hungry nestlings. As usual, I began digging around in my flower beds and in and around old rotting wood in search of big juicy grub worms. For some unknown reason, the “pickings” were slim this year, so I finally resorted to buying mealworms, which the birds love. I placed them in a shallow pan near the nest, and it was not long before the birds knew that when I “visited” their area they would find a good supply of food in the pan.

Bluebirds like a big open area in which to feed, and they prefer the grass to be short. They make use of low perches from which they can look for insects without the danger of being on the ground. 3 to 4-foot stakes driven into the ground make excellent perches, but of the three that I put up, our birds almost exclusively used the one which was placed about 8 feet in front of their nest.

On May 7th, the parents were hauling little white “diapers” out of the nest. According to the books, the parents begin hauling away white bags shortly after the babies are hatched, but we have not been able to observe this activity until a few days before the babies fly. A bag, which contains body waste, is collected immediately after a baby is fed, and then it is removed and deposited away from the nest… Even the birds, living in such humble abodes, are not exempt from housekeeping chores!

Our bluebird babies flew from the blue box on May 13 and 14. We do not know if they all survived, but we have hopes that they did. We heard the special call that parents make to their fledglings for several days, and then what we believe was a new pair visited the blue box, started a nest, and by May 21 when we left on an extended vacation there was 1 egg in the nest.

By the time we returned on June 30, the nest was empty, so we don’t know how many babies there were. We have boxes up at two of our rental houses, and one of them produced five babies even though the children had taken the scarcely-feathered birds out of the box and played with them! We wired the box shut and monitored it often. The little birds miraculously grew into fully feathered fledglings and flew to a new home as they were created to do, despite their early abuse.

Besides the possible 15 bluebirds launched this year, we had 5 black-capped chickadees get their start in one of our bluebird boxes. The parents dove at me each time I opened the box…but I got a great picture of the five little black caps with the white rings around them.

My space is gone, and you haven’t even heard about the Carolina wrens…However, they built on an old dirty shelf in a dark corner of the tool shed. Now, if they find our bluebird boxes in 1999… I’ll just have to write about our birds again next year.

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Lawrence’s Homemade Salsa

To say my husband likes salsa is an understatement. He has been known to eat a half gallon of salsa all by himself in one week. He can eat salsa on almost anything! Anyone who knows him knows his love for salsa and nachos. Chips are an excuse to eat more salsa. We have salsa making parties where the whole family gets involved chopping onions, tomatoes, peppers, and cilantro. It’s a happy day for the whole family when Lawrence decides to make salsa. Today I am going to share Lawrence’s salsa recipe that he developed from lots of salsa making!

Small Batch Salsa

4 cups chopped tomatoes

3/4 cup chopped onion

2 Tablespoons fresh jalapeno pepper

1/2 cup fresh cilantro

1/2 cup of lime juice

 

Big Batch of Salsa

4 quarts chopped tomatoes

4 cups chopped onions

1/4 cup chopped fresh jalapeno peppers

2 cups cilantro chopped

2 cups lime juice

Whichever batch you make you just chop all the veggies and mix in a bowl. Then dig in. Or wait a bit It only gets better and better.

By the way, did you notice my amazing bowl? A gift from my dear friend Betty!

 

 

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Cotton Patch – She’s My Curly Headed Baby

When a student’s father is the school principal, it can be either an advantage or a disadvantage, depending on circumstances. My father was my principal for most of my public school years, and it generally gave me a feeling of security, but there were a few times when I wished that he didn’t have to know about my less-than-perfect behavior. The following incident happened when I was in the first or second grade and my two sisters were in upper elementary or Junior High, which were all in the same school complex.

My hair was blond, very straight and shingled in the back. If I ever had a curl it certainly was not natural. There was a time when my sisters decided to either wave or curl my hair, and since it was before setting gels and hairspray, a mixture of sugar and water was used to do the “holding” job! Do I need to tell you what happened when they tried to comb through it? Anyway, all you need to know before my intended story is that my hair was unquestionably straight.

Recess at school was often unorganized and unsupervised. Children could play on whatever equipment was around, or there were balls and long jump ropes available for group activities. Sometimes, the girls and boys segregated themselves and did their own thing, and sometimes they would play together. On this particular day, we girls were trying to play by ourselves. We started out just walking around, talking, and we ended up in an old shed in back of the school building which we liked to make into a playhouse. The shed was partially open, but even in the walls that it did have there were numerous ‘peepholes’, or in this case, ‘holler-holes’.

As soon as we girls got together and began to organize our activities, one little boy decided it would be fun to follow me around singing “She’s My Curly-headed Baby”. The only other part of the song that I remember is, “She’s from sunny Tennessee.”

Well, whether the boy liked me or not, my hair was certainly not curly and I was not from Tennessee. The message didn’t ring true, and I was very irritated at the whole scene. My friends began to prompt me to pick up a rock and throw it at the pest, but it was not until he persisted in following us through the halls, around the playground, and even stuck his face in the crevices of our playhouse, singing all the while. Enough is enough, so I picked up a black piece of coal and let it go in the young boy’s direction. To my immediate horror, blood began to gush from his forehead, and the teacher had to know…then the principal had to know…and even my sisters learned about it!

I was thoroughly ashamed of myself and fearful. At first, the fear was for the injured boy, but when one of my sisters discussed the incident with me, my fear turned toward myself. She warned me that there might be a police investigation into the incident after school. Well, I was scared enough to go home and hide in a closet, but no policeman ever came, and I don’t even recall my teacher nor my principal being particularly harsh with me. Perhaps, it was my good record, or maybe they just understood human nature in little boys and girls… For whatever reason they did not punish me, I am grateful. I firmly believe that my punishment was sufficiently severe when I saw the blood gush from that forehead, knowing that **I **had caused it!

Fear is a powerful force that can be used for either good or evil. Fear of punishment could prevent wrongdoing, or it could cause one to lie and commit other wrongs in order to avoid being found out. Fear of hurting someone could be used to prevent abusive behavior, but taken to the extreme, it could increase the jeopardy of a threatening situation.

My sister, as many siblings have done through the years, used the threat of a police officer to create fear designed to prevent the repetition of a bad deed. In spite of this incident (or because of it), I managed to develop a rather healthy regard for law-enforcement agents.

I believe the security of having parents that deal justly and with understanding, when a child’s behavior is unacceptable, helps the child develop a desire to do well.

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30 Minute Cure

Whenever Mother knew that some of the children in school had scabies (itch), she was ready and waiting for one of her own children to start scratching. I’m sure she kept up with the latest treatments offered by the medical world, and even though sulfur and grease was considered a reputable cure, it took **time **to do its job. So when Mother heard of the “30 Minute Cure”, there was no justification for denying her family of this modern method of dealing with the problem.

The time came when we, or some of us, started scratching, and Mother was ready. No more days and days for her children to get rid of the little critters that were buried under their skin causing the red rash with its awful itching. Her children were going to be cured in thirty minutes…….. The only picture that I have retained about that memorable scene is that a #3 “bathtub” was in the middle of the room when Mother began treating her afflicted children. I do not know who was first nor how many of us were introduced to the “miraculous” liquid, before the howling became so intense that our dad jerked up the miracle cure and threw it out the door and into the yard (the same yard he had thrown the burning lantern into a few chapters back). I don’t recall that any of us were treated for scabies after that, nor do I recall Dad throwing anything else out of the house!

Several years later, however, Dad did come to my rescue again. It seems that I had a rash which I attacked with rigorous scratching, and Mother’s fear of scabies returned. To allay her suspicions and to save me from her threatened reaction, Dad took me to the doctor. Needless to say, it was not scabies, or I would not be telling this, and probably just as needless to mention is the gratitude I had for Dad’s sparing me the embarrassment of the old treatment with its telltale smell or the impossible pain of the “30 Minute Cure”.

Before leaving this story, I must describe that particular trip to the doctor. Most people today are aware that family doctors made house calls in the first part of this century. How common it was for patients to do as Dad and I did on that occasion I do not know.

It was on a Sunday, and Dad, as usual, had a preaching appointment in a neighboring community. I accompanied Dad to his appointment, and when it was time to leave, we returned by way of our family doctor’s private home. We drove into the front yard and Dad summoned the doctor to come outside, which he did. I remember standing on the lawn as the doctor looked at the rash on my hands, arms, neck etc. He believed that I had a food allergy and “prescribed” that I restrain my appetite for sweets. Whether he was right or not, I’ll never know, but after that, I probably restrained my urges to scratch more than my urges for sweets! Giving up sweets would have been almost as bad as suffering through the treatment for scabies. Besides, I have a suspicion that my weight had more to do with that “prescription” than the rash, and I’ve also toyed with the idea that the doctor and Dad may have had a conspiracy going.

Having followed several of my ancestors into becoming a public school teacher, I understand the fear of exposure to all the “bugs” that attack school children. I am thankful that scabies seemingly ran its course and became much less of a threat during the years that my own children attended school and during the years that I taught. The dread of those years was head lice! Medical technology has provided, however, for the development of a shampoo that works quite well for head lice without the embarrassing smell or other telltale signs that accompanied the treatment of scabies.

Families are better educated today in preventive measures, normal households are better equipped for the practice of personal hygiene, and visiting the family druggist can often save a visit to the doctor.

I will have to submit that the “good ole days” in medical matters was not “back when”!

This article is the tenth one.

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From the Cotton Patch

From the Cotton Patch
by Someone’s Grandma

We awoke early, had a good hot breakfast of biscuits, butter, sausage, eggs, gravy, and jelly, all of which were homemade or home processed. There was also good, fresh, wholesome milk to drink. The biscuits and gravy contained flour and a few other ingredients that were “store-bought”, but everything else was made from things grown or raised on Granddad’s and Granny’s farm. I *could* have milked the cow, churned the butter, gathered the eggs, picked some of the fruit (apple, grapes, cherries, blackberries or strawberries) for the jelly, turned the sausage grinder by hand and stuffed the sausage into a “stocking” cover. I *may* have washed and peeled fruit washed the canning jars with water that was drawn out of a deep well with a contraption called a windlass. (A windlass was a big cylindrical wooden drum with a handle). A rope, attached to the windlass, went up and through a pulley in the ceiling of the well-house and down into the well. When a bucket attached to the rope filled up with water, the windlass was turned by hand to bring the fresh cool water up out of the well. It took a lot of buckets of water to make sure the jars were clean and rinsed, but the windlass was fun to let go flying round and round as the bucket fell into the water. The flying handle could be treacherous if you got in its way, but we all learned that scientific fact rather quickly! …But, back to my story…

After breakfast, the adults busied themselves with various chores, while we younger ones watched the sun creep up over the treetops, revealing a very beautiful dew-drenched earth. It was rather cool and damp out on the front porch as we waited for the signal to load up so we could get to the cotton field for a day of work and fun. We youngn’s each wore a straw hat and a long-sleeved shirt to protect us from the hot sun, and we each had a garden hoe, and some of us may have worn cotton gloves so the hoe handle would be less likely to rub blisters on our hands as we chopped at the weeds in and around the young cotton stalks.

Often there was one last ritual before we climbed into the wagon to head for the field. That was hoe sharpening. One or more of the older folks would take a metal file and sharpen the cutting edges of the hoes. In the process of thinning the cotton stalks and chopping out the weeds, our hoes would often strike rocks. It was kinda neat to us youngsters to see the sparks fly when the metal struck against the rocks, but the veteran cotton choppers knew sharp hoe blades would work faster and more efficiently than ones that had been dulled. Hoe sharpening was essential to getting the job done better and more quickly.

Well, the sun, which was finally up, was causing the dew all around to turn into a vapor and rise into the air. Little low lying patches of fog were just as beautiful as the dew-covered plants. No one needed to tell us how beautiful God made the earth…we not only saw it….we felt it!

At last, it was time to climb into the wagon pulled by a team of mules. We bounced up and down on wooden seats as we were carried along the long country lane edged with sweet-smelling pink hedge roses, and not one of us had a thought about being discontent nor deprived of the luxuries that may have belonged to somebody…somewhere….There were songs waiting to be sung, butterflies waiting to chase, and cool shade trees at the end of the long rows of cotton waiting to be enjoyed by hot, sweaty, tired bodies as they shared a gourd dipper and drank from a cool bucket of water.

 

This is the first article of a series in an attempt to give the younger generation a glimpse into the past that belonged to and helped to shape the ideals and principles of their grandparents and great-grandparents. Not every one belonging to those generations had the privilege of working in a cotton patch, but they all shared a closeness to nature that has all but been destroyed by our modern lifestyles.

Windlass at Cannonsburg Village Murfreesboro, TN

Special thanks to my wonderful mother-in-law, Jo Redding, who agreed to let me share these articles. Thanks to the editors of Redding Magazine for letting me reprint them here. This article was first published in Redding Magazine in 1996.

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Mommy Fails

(This was written a while back)

Last night I cried myself to sleep thinking of all my mommy fails. And today I am thinking of all my fails as a daughter.

What will I do with these failings and the misery I feel from them? I know that I need to reframe them. I know that I need to forgive myself. I know I need to turn loose of these feelings and not let them drag me down. I may need to ask my children’s forgiveness or not. Do I ask forgiveness for being human? Do I ask forgiveness for making mistakes?  I look at my children and the beauty and wonder I see in them and know that either I did something right or God was gracious to over-ride my terrible shortcomings. I know it is God’s goodness!

Recently I was sharing in ladies’ Bible class about feeling guilty about not scrapbooking my children’s childhood and other things. I was amazed at what relief I saw in the other women in my class. First, let me say that I think it is an absolutely beautiful gift to give your children scrapbooks and pictures of their childhood. I will add IF you desire to do that and IF you are able to do that. There just was never enough of me to do that! The thing I learned from this was how huge the expectations we place on ourselves. Women expect a lot from themselves and buy into the lie that we have failed as a mom or wife if we don’t do…..a whole list of things. We also assume every woman does the things we find impossible to do. We also try to live up to an image of what the perfect mom or wife is/or does. We all have limitations.

Despite my shortcomings, HE has done something beautiful. And despite the humanness of my children, HE has done something beautiful. Now it is up to them what they do with what God has blessed them with. I also, have to acknowledge that it is up to me to make the best of what God has given me and the opportunities he has blessed me with. Let us love with the love of God. For love covers a multitude of sins and mistakes.

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Traveling with Children and Ironing Sandwiches

Several years ago when many of our children were little we did a lot of traveling! Whether moving,  out of town overnights for doctor appointments, traveling to visit relatives and friends, or mission trips, we were on the move. We did a lot of different things to maintain our sanity and to make the trip fun. Today I will share a few.

Car picnics. Most of the time I packed a cooler. We especially like raw veggies. I would make peanut butter and jelly or honey sandwiches in the van and hand them out on napkins. Or plates if we were having other foods.

At night I sometimes made ironed sandwiches. I would take a roll of aluminum foil and cheese and bread. If I didn’t have those on hand almost any store would, including convenience stores. You will also need an iron. I usually take an iron (I wear cotton) and almost any motel will have one, if not in the room, at the desk. I place the cheese between two slices of bread and wrap the sandwiches in foil and iron each side of the foil until the cheese is melted and the sandwich is toasted. (And no we did not have Panini makers way back then either.)  Even if we were going to eat out some, we got tired of fast food very quickly and this helped save time and money.

Motels. Because of the labor-intensive work of unpacking and repacking the car each night we came up with a simple solution. We would just take in the sleepwear (for whoever wore any) and toothbrushes, etc. After the kids went for a swim and/or took a shower and were ready to settle down and watch a movie, sleep, read, etc. I would gather up all the dirty clothes and wash them at the motel laundry. They would put them back on the next morning. This made stopping for the night and getting back on the road a lot simpler!

Entertainment in the van. There were various ways to keep children entertained in the van to avoid utter chaos. We memorized scriptures, ABC verses, multiplications, parts of speech, and worked on complicated math problems. There was always singing, mostly spirituals.

We usually had read-aloud books and other books for the children to read on their own. We also made use of audiobooks. I have several fond memories of listening to classics on the road. Sometimes we had themes for the day: kindness, sharing, courage, etc. Sometimes I wrapped up little surprises. When people started getting restless I would give a surprise. Some things we tried worked better than others. Some we used with the older kids and should have used it with the younger ones too. Some we just didn’t think of with the older boys.

Bathroom breaks,  fuel stops, and rest stops. At times to cut down on bathroom breaks I would control when the kids would have a drink. If I knew we were going to make a stop down the road in the next half hour or so I would give the children their drinks. I didn’t want 10 people drinking at 10 different times and all wanting to go to the bathroom at every exit. Each stop takes up a lot of time.  When we were stopping for fuel we tried to take care of everything that we could. Bathroom breaks, snacks, stretching, etc.

Sometimes we needed an extra stop between fuel stops. We made use of rest stops. Everyone got out of the van. We would take the younger kids for a run around while everyone finished their business. We didn’t have to encourage the older ones to stretch their legs they found ways! Climbing trees, on the roofs of rest stops, etc. It felt good to stretch. If we were just making a quick bathroom stop I would make a game of it by timing how long it would take for us to all go to the bathroom and water fountain and back to the car and on the road again. I know this sounds torturous to some but we all survived just fine.

I absolutely loved traveling with my children. I am not sure my children loved it near as much as I did. For many years there were no cell phones, no electronics, no TVs, etc. It was a glorious time for me to spend time with my children. Sometimes it could be long and tiring for all of us but I have many wonderful memories of our traipsing about.

I know that many of you have great ideas so please share them in the comments below. I would love to read them!

 

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Responding to Criticism!

There is a new app for your phone called “Sarahah”. You can also use it online at Sarahah.com.  Sarahah’s stated purpose is that it helps you in discovering your strengths and areas for improvement by receiving honest feedback from your employees and your friends in a private manner.  You set up an account and people can give you messages anonymously.  Several people I know have done this and I suppose it could be fun in some way and maybe useful too. Below is a message my son Gabriel received. I would like to offer the approach I would like to take should I be the recipient of such a post.

  1. Everyone is entitled to an opinion and since he asked it is fair that the writer shared theirs.
  2. Just because someone has an opinion doesn’t make it true whether it is a good opinion or a bad one.
  3. Sometimes even the most humble people can come across as arrogant. They may truly suffer low self-esteem believe it or not 🙂
  4. Sometimes we all need some constructive criticism to help us evaluate ourselves. So accept the words, think about them and evaluate them for truth.
  5. If you find some truth hidden among the criticism then learn from it and try to be a better person.
  6. If there is no gem of truth then release it and forget it and move on…
  7. Be thankful for the person who can help you to improve yourself regardless of their motives or methods. Think good and not evil of them. You will feel better about yourself if you do!
  8. Sometimes hateful words come from hurting people. Pray for this person and for good to come into their lives. You can learn to love this person.
  9. Criticism can help you become more sensitive to those around you and more aware of how your own words may sound and actions may appear.

 

AND just in case you were wondering, I have no plans to set up an account.

Blessings!

Reda

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Up, Up, and Away!

This year seems to be the year for “adventure birthday gifts”. Gabriel received the gift of hang gliding and Lawrence hot air ballooning. Lawrence’s birthday was in April so it took awhile before we could get set to go Up, Up, and Away!

We had the option of a sunrise or sunset ride. We chose the sunrise and I am so glad we did. For one thing, it is cooler and the peace of morning with mist rising from the hills permeates your being! We arrived just before 5 a.m. at the designated meet up spot in Franklin, TN. to board the van.  We met Tina and Logan the owners of Middle Tennessee Hot Air Adventures. (www.TNBalloon.com) By the way, they are new parents of a sweet little boy! I’m so excited for that adventure for them! There were four couples who were taking this trip together. It was everyone’s first flight!

We could hear cows mooing, see deer racing across fields, and some predators chasing them. We enjoyed the beautiful landscape but also enjoyed seeing some homes from the sky with swimming pools as large as houses! We saw people enjoying their morning walks and stopping to wave at us. Doesn’t everyone just enjoy seeing hot air balloons in flight?

I had anticipated being a bit nervous about the flight because I am usually afraid of heights. I had not a moment of concern. Our flight was an hour in air time. It was a beautiful, smooth, and peaceful ride and landing! I hope to take a future flight. I loved it!

 

Tina and Logan owners of Middle Tennessee Hot Air Adventures. RR
Just before our flight. www.TnBalloon.com
In the basket getting ready for lift off! www.TNBalloon.com
Filling the envelope. The balloons diameter is 75 feet. RR

 

Can you see the gas going in? RR
And we have a lift off! www.TNBalloon.com
Sunrise! www.TNBalloon.com
RR
RR
DCIM100GOPRO www.TNBalloon.com
Our shadow just before landing! RR
And we have landed! www.TNBalloon.com

It was a wonderful experience!

Credit for the photos goes to Middle Tennessee Hot Air Adventures.  A few I took (RR) but the really cool ones came on the thumb drive we purchased at the end of the flight.