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By:  Donna Hale Chandler

I tried to be a good mother. I truly did. I tried to be involved in my children’s activities. I’m not particularly skilled in the kitchen but I’d burn those cookies and send them off to school. I’m just not very ‘domestic.’ My son and daughter, now adults, survived but it was probably touch and go there at times.

Growing up I had one very well-mannered younger sister, so when our first child, our SON came along, I wasn’t prepared for that ball of energy who was into anything and everything. There came a glorious day when he asked if he could join the Cub Scouts. I thought this was a fabulous idea. Nice, supervised activities that would teach him lessons while burning some of his ever-present energy.

Cub Scouts were great. He loved working toward a ‘patch’. I was so proud of him when he was awarded the first patch. But there was a problem. That little patch needed to be fastened to his shirt. A seamstress I am NOT and I really didn’t believe that a safety pin would be acceptable. So I sucked it up, went to the store to try to buy a needle and some thread. The cashier at Joann Fabrics probably is still talking about the woman who tried to purchase ONE needle. (Did you know that needles are sold in a package containing several?)

Finally, back home I went with my important purchase. I sat down with the Cub Scout shirt, my new needle and a spool of navy thread. I tried to keep my stitches small so they wouldn’t be so visible. I tried to not pull the thread too tight so the material wouldn’t pucker. I tried to do everything right. When I was all finished and held up the shirt for inspection, THE PATCH WAS CROOKED.

I had to pick those itty bitty stitches out and start all over again ………………. TWICE! By the time I was finished I felt like I had sewn a complete wardrobe. But, when we went to the next Cub Scout meeting, his patch was firmly attached in the right place. It wasn’t crooked. It wasn’t puckered. I was almost as pleased with myself for sewing the patch as I was of him for earning the patch.

As I was sitting there with the other mothers watching the ‘cubs’ go about the business of working toward yet another patch, the woman next to mean leaned over and said, “Isn’t it wonderful that they’re making iron-on patches now. I just hated sewing those on for my oldest son.”

Wait! What did she just say? When I turned to look at her she must have been able to read the disbelief in my face because she repeated herself, “I said, aren’t the iron-on patches great?”

I tried to smile and said, “Yes, they sure are.”

(The complete story can be found in Life Happens (My Story). See our Book page.)

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Gram use’ta say

“Misbehavior is sufficient justification
to have a knot jerked in your tail.”

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EVERYTHING
© By: Richard L. King
From the book: Memories & Time

 She’s the frosting on his cake, the puddin’ in his pie,
she’s his sunshine on a cloudy day, the apple of his eye.

His cuddle waiting to happen, the shoulder upon which he’ll cry,
were she not in his life, it’s doubtful he’d get by.

She’s the straw that stirs his drink, the one who makes him swoon,
his beacon in the night, were he the tide, she’d be his moon.

She’s the wind that fills his sails and his anchor when one is needed
since she came into his life he has never felt defeated.

When difficulties they encounter, she faces them undaunted.
Truth be known she’s everything he never knew he always wanted.

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 Gramps use’ta say
©R.L.King2012 #331

About: Expectations

“You can’t live someone else’s dream.”

By:  Donna Hale Chandler

Do you believe that Christmas is the season of miracles? I believe that every season is filled with miracles. My life has been filled with them, some small, some amazingly unbelievable. The first that comes to mind happened in 1968.

I lived in Kentucky. I was 19 and I was waiting for my 21 year old husband to return from Vietnam. Around midnight the phone rang. It was him! He had just arrived at the Lexington airport and would need to take a bus the remaining 125 miles. He’d been told that there was only 1 bus per day and that would be the next evening. After much discussion and happy crying, we agreed that he would stay right where he was and I would come to him – be there in 2 hours or so.

I knew that Lexington was an exit off of I-64 and I knew how to get onto I-64 so I figured I was all set – grabbed my keys and my purse and set out. As I neared Lexington I realized that I really had no idea how to get to the airport once I exited the freeway. The worry gnawed away at me until I spotted an all-night diner just off to my right.

When I walked in the diner there were two men sitting at a table watching me closely. I tried to look brave as I walked up to the men and asked for directions to the Lexington Airport. One man was quick to answer with a, “Which one ya going to darling?” Which one? There was more than one? Oh no!

The other man took pity on me and asked why to needed to get to the airport in the wee hours of the morning. Once I explained about my husband returning, he said, “Oh you want the big airport” – and gave me directions.

I found it with no problem but had failed to ask my husband which airline he’d arrived on. No matter, I parked in the first space I found and ran into the first doors I saw. As I stood inside the airport wondering what to do next, I heard footsteps coming closer. When I turned to look, it was him!

You don’t see the miracle? There were so many miracles that night. My husband was returning safely. A 24 hour diner appeared just when I was beginning to despair. A kind gentleman had decided to meet his friend at the right time to give me directions. I found the airport and somehow parked at the exact terminal where my husband was waiting. My 19 year-old Kentucky steps had been guided that night. Nobody can convince me otherwise.

Full story can be found  in Life Happens (My Story)

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Gram use’ta say

“The man always walks closest to the street
when he’s walking with his sweetie.”

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AFTER DINNER
© By: Richard L. King

Bright orange clouds fade slowly to amber
a light fog settles in
….dusk takes over.

There’s a slight chill in the air.

The smell of the sea permeates his nostrils
as the sounds reverberate in his ears,
accentuating the distant, yet distinct, island music.

The best of Mother Nature’s beauty
peers at him over the rim of his glass.

….the candle flickers from a faint breeze

                                                                                                   ….and she smiles.

.…A distant balladeer brings them back to the moment

….conversation has been minimal
as their eyes soak in the beauty.

“….More wine?” ….he asks.

“We could watch the fishermen unloading
and cleaning their catch”
“….but honestly, I have better suggestions.
….perhaps a walk along the beach?

….Maybe a carriage ride?

….If you’d care to dance,
there’s a trio performing in the lounge.

….My room has a fully stocked bar
and a large balcony overlooking the coastline.

.…the night lights make for a fantastic view
and the stereo has all the greatest tunes.

….room service is exquisite….
Course, if you’d prefer, I’ll take you home.”

                                                                                ….and again, she smiles.

.…They arise,
silently floating on gossamer wings
… she reaches for the key card
as her eyes momentarily hold his

                                                                        .…and he smiles.

 

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Gramps use’ta say
©R.L.King2012 #416

About: Life’s Lessons

 “The key to a long, healthy relationship…
…never mention her weight.”

Could it be that an entire generation was not taught to ‘do unto others as you want done unto you’? Or could it be that each person is so wrapped up in themselves and their own personal needs that they forget little things like saying ‘please’ or ‘thank you’? The simple act of including the ‘loner’ in your conversation at a gathering has gone by the wayside.

I don’t think people forget their manners to be cruel. I think it is just not important to them. It’s not important to say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ — after all we’re all friends here. Why be so formal? We don’t need to include everyone in our conversation because we really don’t know that ‘loner’ very well and we’re not interested in what he has to say anyway.

It is sad – the way we treat others, even the ones we care about. With the holiday nearly here – a time of giving, it would be nice to give a smile to that person you usually ignore. Ask the ‘loner’ how his day is going and is his family well? Start a conversation. Besides making someone’s day, you just might learn something. Remember the ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

It really doesn’t hurt. I promise.

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Gram use’ta say

“Never miss a chance to shut up.
You can’t listen and learn if you’re chattering.”

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