Out of Place

I didn't see a friend at Church. She sat somewhere else. She was for all intents and purposes "out of place" When you get a certain age, its not good for things or people to be "out of place". When we worked with our little ones we taught them in place, not "out of place". Everyone I know sang the alphabet song. You certainly did not teach them A, B, D, F, W, K, Y. that would have been "out of place". We taught them in place. As they progressed we began to show them that a "W" was still a "W" no matter what place it was in. That is called growing or maturing. Whoops, we get older and "out of place" won't cut it anymore.

At our office, Tammy, who is way younger, rearranged the supply cabinet. My friend, who is older but not as old, and I could not find anything. Things were "out of place". We have quietly shifted them back to their place. She hasn't noticed. After all, Tammy isn't old enough yet to realize something is "out of place".

Personally I think one of the main differences in being older (do you notice I never refer to it as being old, just older) is the "out of place" syndrome. When I was young, seems as if I was always wanting change. Had to have a new shower curtain. Needed a change. Had to have a new pair of shoes. Needed a change. Had to have a newer car. Needed a change. Moved things around in the house. Wanted them in a different place.

Mate is the world's worse. He can't dress if something is out of place. Called to me the other morning wanting to know where his belt was. It was on a different hook, "out of place". If I hadn't been home, Mate's pants might have fallen down.

Being older seems to make me content. I like things and people where they should be. I would probably be one of those older ladies who would ask you to move if you were in my place. But nicely. In a big congregation when you can't see all that well far off, people shouldn't get "out of place". I can't find them. I need to be able to identify each one of the flock of sheep I belong with so I don't lose sight of the Shepherd.

WARNING Liberal at Work

Fourteen years old. Had my first job. Most of my friends are Conservative, both socially and politically. I am in North Central Texas in 2010 so its hard to find a Liberal friend. But that too will change if I live long enough. I need a Liberal fix every so often. It keeps me going. However this is not to begin a conversation of one vs. the other. If you read this from a conservative point of view you will think there she goes continuing her life of crime. (i.e. Crime Does Not Pay) But if you really know me well, you will realize it was my first attempt to change the world order.

S.H. Kress and Company. It was outside this store that I spotted the lady on the bench who signed my mother's name (Here Comes the Bride). I absolutely reveled in my job. More fun than I ever had. I still feel that way every day I have worked in my 74 years. God has blessed me in oh so many ways. I hope I am working on the day I leave this world.

Each counter was separate, no check out at the front. If you bought ribbon you bought it at the ribbon counter, etc. etc. I got to work the candy counter. Right at the front of the store. They understood marketing even back then. First and last thing you saw. As much as I loved chocolate I was not tempted to snitch a bite. We could eat all the broken novelty pieces we wanted just not while on duty. I can't believe I am saying this but you got a little tired of chocolate. Five Cents bought quite a bit of candy in a white sack. Cash only, no one had heard of a credit card. Life was simplier then. We didn't need Financial Peace. We had a lot of peace and very little financial.

It did not take me long to realize I had the power to take care of the poor kids. Power is exhilarating! Even at the candy counter of S.H. Kress. Maybe an extra piece in the five cent bag, which I could then even out by leaving out a piece in the ten cent bag. Let me remind you that I was barely fifteen, I had discovered the answer to the world's problems (do not lecture me)I swear to you I saw nothing wrong with what I was doing. Mr. Kress was not losing candy nor money. The kids didn't even know it. It was good for everyone especially me. I felt great!

My time came. Store Manager (I had such a crush on him but he was old, probably 25 or 26) sees me giving an extra piece to a poor child. Calls me into his office at the back of the store. Fires me. Devastation. I do not think anyone in my family was ever fired either before or after the Chocolate Caper. I was well on my way to disgracing my family and I was barely 15. Just think what lay ahead of me. I tried to explain. He did not listen. I begged, I cried. He did not budge.

We were totally, politically incorrect back then. Today they are not poor kids or rich kids, they are underprivileged or over privileged. I was certainly one of the over privileged, have been all of my life. I am loved by my friends and family, even with all my warts. I have written this as a tribute to S.H.Kress. I was able to walk down the street and go to work for F.W. Woolworth, but I don't think I ever worked the candy counter.

Today is my birthday. I am 74 years old. I am starting on three quarters of a century. My life was shaped when Mr. Kress hired and fired me. I am content and satisfied with my life so far. thats a pretty good feeling when you are beginning three quarters of a century.

Here Comes The Bride

Turned 17 in April, graduated in May, married in July, had a baby 10 months and 3 days later. It was a busy year! Happened 57 years ago. Headstrong, rebellious, independent. Good description, and that was my Boston terrier. In those olden days (my grandkids love that phrase) a male had to be 21 to get a marriage license, a female 18. Woman has always matured quicker than man. Remember I came from a rather conventional background and young ladies did not run off and get married in my family. But then what was I supposed to do. They told me "No".

Remember I told you that I have made most of the decisions in the life journey of Mate and Me. Suffice to say, I just decided I wanted to. Mate wasn't sure until the last moment. If the truth be told, he may not be convinced to this day

Mate had been a Marine in Korea when he was 17 years old. He had already fought several battles and won. So I am thinking if he hadn't wanted to get married he knew how to fight. Of course the government gave him a machine gun in Korea and in Wichita Falls, Texas in 1953, he only had a Roy Rogers cap pistol.

We traveled to a small County Seat 20 miles East to get the license. I planned on a bald faced lie. It didn't work. No license. Almost the identical thing happened 20 miles to the West. I believe Mate breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't realize that was all the encouragement I needed.

I was working downtown near where the bus stopped. Saw a woman sitting on the bench waiting, Somehow I knew she was not of the highest moral standards of the day. I approached asked if she wanted to earn $5.00 (not a small sum of money). She asked what she had to do. I told her to learn to write my mothers name. I learned in the first two tries that your mother could just sign over her rights to you. (I believe I equated that to slavery at the time, but remember I did not have children) It worked.

License in hand. What to do, what to do? I knew a lot of preachers. Trouble was they knew me and more importantly, they knew Family. So to the phone book I went, looked for a "Rev." In my Church we do not call our preachers Rev. Found one.

Hot July day. Rev (don't remember his name) sleeves rolled up. Drinking an R C Cola. Announced we had to have witnesses. (I had not read the entire manual for run away weddings) Neighbors in the back yard. Don't remember their names. They came in shorts and T Shirts. Rev began the ceremony. Got a coughing spell. Stopped. Took a sip of that ice cold R C Cola. I now pronounce you Mate and Mate. Notice the short precise sentences. Thats exactly what happened; it was short and precise and it took.

Do I regret not having a big ceremony, with flowers, candles, friends, relatives, bridesmaids, groomsmen, beautiful guests dressed to kill, lots of pictures? NOT ON YOUR LIFE!!.

When wedding stories are told, which one do you think people will find the most unique and interesting?

Tired of Tiger

I don't know about you but if you appear on the Yahoo page on my computer more than two days in a row, I get a bit weary of the subject. Guess I have succumbed to that instant gratification and then move on mentality that I complain about. Seems that news is no longer news, it is "sensation". I guess that is the price we pay for being addicted to anything. It almost has to be sensation to hang around, or we know about it and move on. Its not like ice cream on the hips. I personally can't remember what the "sensation" was before Tiger. I think it may have been Kate and the Eight Kids, or it could have been John Edwards admitting he fathered a child while married to Elizabeth, or it could have been the quarterback of the Pittsburg Steelers (if they still play there) who seems to have a last name I can't pronounce and who seems to spend a lot of time in bars (I neglected to read the whole story on him). Unfortunately "sensation" is almost always bad or sad news.

The one I read in its entirety ran just the other day, "rumor that Elizabeth Taylor was going to marry her manager" Funny think it only hung around a day and a half. Made me feel old. In my heyday that would have been news for at least a whole issue of Photoplay. But alas Liz says its not so. I know, I know, she married what was it, nine times. She had more illnesses than anyone I can think of. All sorts of things that make her so not a role model. But she was mine. I loved every move she made, followed her with devotion, found myself at times thinking I must look like her. Being surprised when I looked in the mirror and didn't. She is 77 years old and I still wish I looked like her. I read that entire blurb on Yahoo.

When you think about eyes, who do you think about. I think Elizabeth Taylor and Paul Newman, Both old news.

After all there is only one "Good News". I hope you will follow it in the book. Its not on Yahoo much. Makes me think Yahoo is not really that important.

Put It Down

When my sister and I are gone the only one in our family that will remember Mamma Hill will be my daughter, Kay, and my sisters two oldest children. I am not sure they will remember a lot. Probably if I don't put this down they won't remember her name other than Mamma Hill. She deserves more than that. To tell you the truth, I don't remember a lot but what I do, should be Put Down.

I believe that her maiden name was Green. Buna Mae Green. Sad that I am not sure of that. I know my great grandfather was named Walter Hill. He was a man of whom I have very little memory. I don't remember him dying so I must have been really young. Probably my sister won't remember him at all. So it is too late to Put Down about him.

Mamma Hill was around til my son was at least two or three, which means she died in the early 1970s. We had five generations with my two and three of my sister's children. An unusual feat. Seems my family married early and produced offspring rather early and that Mamma Hill lived a long time. I think she was in her early 90s when she passed away the second and last time.

She was our mother's grandmother. As long as I can remember she had an "apartment" near or lived with my grandmother and grandfather Prestage. She was about 4 foot 9 inches tall. One of the few persons in my family who you could call petite. I don't know if she was always that size or if she shrunk. She loved me and she loved my mate. Not everyone in my family did. Funny how you associate persons in your past with food. My sister says that she thinks of Campbells Vegetable Beef soup when she thinks of Mamma Hill. Now I would be willing to go out on a limb and say that you don't remember many of your relatives that way. Personally I remember graham crackers spread with marshmallow creme. If you have not tried it you should, but probably not with vegetable beef soup.

Mamma Hill wore "petticoats" with a twist. She would sew a pocket right at the crotch level and it was there that she "hid" her money. Those of us familiar with her never thought anything about it, but my mate became alarmed when we were walking with her in the store and she suddenly bent over and clutched herself. I knew she was checking to see if her money was still in the crotch pocket; he thought she had a stroke.

She dipped snuff. In case you are out there and do not know what "dipping snuff" is, let me explain. Snuff was a tobacco product ground to a fine powder sort of the consistency of Gold Medal Flour, but a beautiful chocolate brown color. It was purchased packaged in pretty little glasses which when cleaned were used for juice or water, covered with a tin cover (perfect size for baking mud pies) and had a red label "Garretts Fine Snuff ". You would take some, put it in the side of your mouth and hold it there for I do not know how long, and you spit a lot. It was an addiction like smoking cigarettes. Not any sillier than the thought of rolling up a leaf. lighting it and puffing on it if you think about it. But it was perfectly acceptable for a woman to do.

She got sick and passed away, or so we thought. Sure enough she took a deep breath and was with us for another couple of years. Then on a Christmas Eve she passed away. She did not make much of an impact on the world at large. She raised two daughters and two sons. Among those four siblings they had a total of six children. Her family of four children were the largest on either side of our family for as far back as I know about until my sister herself had four children. Even our ancestors had small families. No big family reunion there either.

If its true that you should be very careful about what you put on the internet because it will follow you forever, then I am glad this will live a long time. She was a neat lady and deserves to have something about her "put down".

Of Panty Hose and Girdles

Hard to imagine that there is a whole generation out there that does not know what a girdle, a garter belt and panty hose are. (well that is if you don't subscribe to the Victoria Secret Catalog, however the ones we wore for utilitarian purposes did not look like Victoria Secret).

I began work in something other than bobby sox and loafers in say 1953-54. Never would have left the house without "hose" and a girdle. I never subscribed to a garter belt which was something you wore around the belly with tentacles hanging down that you hooked onto nylon stockings so that they would only bag at the knee and ankles. I am not sure that there are words in the language that describe this terror of terrors but we did it every morning including Saturdays and Sundays. Saturdays because we worked then also and Sundays because of Church. To make matters worse, no one had learned how to weave a pair of "hose" without a seam up the back which you were supposed to position in the middle of the calf of the leg and it was supposed to stay there all the live long day. I told you this was not easy to understand so you may need to ask an older lady. Its easier to act out than to describe.

If you didn't wear the aforementioned garter belt, you wore a girdle with hooks in the front and in the back. these hooks were again to attach the "hose" (you had two on each side). I personally wore a brand called Playtex. Now try to imagine a garment made of rubber, literally with pin holes covering it so your body could breathe. You were supposed to pull this up over your posterier and frontier and then contort your body to attach hose to those hooks and hope the seam up the back was where it was supposed to be. It was worse in the evening when you had to take it off. You literally had to roll it down because it is hard to slip sweaty rubber off your body in one piece. Your posterier and frontier looked like it had some sort of horrid disease because your body had poked through all the hundreds of holes. And still the seam was supposed to be straight up the back of the leg. (yeah right)

I was on my lunch hour once when my Playtex began to split at the waist and it grew wider with each step I took. By the time I could make an emergency stop at home I looked as if I had a huge tumor gown out on the side of my body.

You now know why the female is the stronger of the species.

Someone, inspired of a Bigger Power, developed the girdle made of spandex, it was about the size of a paper towel tube with two little holes for your legs and you were supposed to stretch it to fit your body. It nearly did. Still one of the world's greatest inventions. Playtex girdles went out of business.

Then lo and behold an even greater power invented the hose without the seam. If that person did not win the Nobel Peace Prize then there is no justice.

Along came a genius related to Einstein who developed panty hose. ONE SIZE fits all. Sure it did. But we didn't care. Those young men that wear their jeans so far down on their waist that you see more of their underwear than you can in a laundry who are so uncomfortable with the crotch of those pants between their knees.... THEY KNOW NOTHING!! I worked for a year with the crotch of my panty hose (one size fits all) just above my knee. Try crossing your legs like that. Getting home in the evening was pure pleasure.

Today, only those of my generation wear hose and not all of us do. I' m not sure anyone wears a girdle. I still wear them to work every day and I wear them on Sundays because I can now wear something called a "Knee High" Wonderful invention that you wear with pants, or if you are in Scotland with trousers.

My grandmothers wore hose with a rubber garter on each leg. They would roll the hose over the garter and tie it with a knot below the knee. This held the hose up (sort of) creating a trough around the leg. I don't even want to think about that.

So progress moves on and in this case I agree that it did. Much more freedom, no girdles no panty hose, sleep in an extra thirty minutes that you did not have to straighten a seam.

But in most cases we did look really nice.

Funerals, Weddings and Easter

Seems to me that we are attending a lot of funerals lately. Weddings not so many. Our Church family is a medium sized one, unless you count the Mega-Churches, and if you do we are just a dot on the horizon. But we do have our fair share of both services.

Our Grandfather Prestage was my spiritual mentor and, bless his heart, took on the task of attempting to secure a place in Heaven for me. Had my family been Catholic, I feel certain he would have purchased candles and what ever would have been needed to get me through the pearly gates. He passed away before we actually discovered Grace. He can rest now. I'll be okay.

Grew up on that farm in Greer County, right outside Mangum. One set of grandparents lived on the farm, Granddad Prestage lived in town. I think I spent more time with grandparents than I ever did with parents. They were much nicer to live with. Parents sometimes said "No". Its been said that I seldom have a story about my youth that includes my parents but consistently talk about my grandparents. Again, ask a child to chose between, no you can't and of course you can and deserve to do so. Its not a fair contest.

When there was a death you did not leave the body at the funeral home. It went home with you and was in the spotlight in the living room, sometime called the "Parlor". Friends would "sit up" with the body. Something that a child had a hard time understanding. For goodness sakes "Why". I now know. Our parents and grandparents knew what "respect" meant. In his never ending quest to teach me, I went with granddad to "sit up". The men smoked their pipes and visited in quiet tones. Oft times this was the only chance they had to sit uninterrupted and visit (never sat up by your self, there were unwritten rules for this Christian duty). Truthfully I don't remember what I did. I just know I was there.

The sitting up had followed the "taking of food". The first thing that a woman would do when someone "passed" was to cook. Then on the day of the funeral women showed up. It must have been a secret society thing because there were always enough women to work in the kitchen and not too many to get in each other's way. I didn't get to go work with the grandmother. One thing the grandparents said no about was missing school. You didn't miss school and you certainly did not miss a Church service. there was not an excuse known to mankind that would keep you from going to church. I know that to be true because I tried every one I could think of and I had an active imagination. The criteria for missing was blood. Not just any blood, flowing blood. Come to think of it, Blood was why we were there.

Years later I made a trip to Mangum to take my grandmother and Aunt Mildred to the funeral service of my grandmother's last sibling. We went to the funeral home the day before the services in the little town of Duke. We walked in and no one was up front but there was a wall of mirrors. My Aunt and Grandmother stood there and had a conversation with the persons in the mirror. Of course it was us. You know one of those you had to be there times. But for years we told that story and laughed. Memories are made of fragile moments that we are blessed to be part of.

Weddings signify a new beginning. The last one I attended joined two young souls who had their grandparents and great grand parents in attendance. All members of the Lord's Church. At the reception there were pictures on display of weddings of several generations. One of the grandfathers conducted the service. One day when they have raised their children and spoiled their grandchildren and babysat their great grandchildren, they will remember what a beginning they had and what they have come from. I know this young couple and their families well, so I suspect that they already have a clue.

At services on Easter morning our minister said you can't have Easter without a death. Easter is the resurrection. I think the wedding was the living, the funeral the death and we will experience the resurrection, so it fits. Today, I experienced that entire cycle, I attended a funeral of a lady who I went to school and graduated with. We married the same year. She has now been a part of what I am still missing. She knows the resurrection first hand.