Category: Uncategorized

By:  Donna Hale Chandler

My life began as the daughter of a coal miner in West Virginia and never in my seventy something years did I dream of being a writer. I would write little rhymes for special occasions, but I never considered them anything other than a momentary grin.

Then, something happened in 2009 which set me on a new and different path. I unexpectedly lost my mother. She and I had been through many a crisis together and we each always came through even stronger and closer. We had already lost my dad, my only sibling, and my husband, so along with my two children, Mom and I were the last standing of our small, but closely-knit family.

Several days after saying my final good-bye to my mother, I began the heart-wrenching chore of cleaning out her home. As I packed up clothing, keepsakes that were important to her and other odds and ends, I came across an unusual-looking book in the back of one of her dresser drawers.

When I pulled it out, I remembered many Christmas’s ago when my 10-year old daughter, Heather, had given this book to her Nana. When it was unwrapped and flipped open, my mother looked questioningly at her youngest grandchild. “Heather, the pages are all blank.”

“I know, Nana,” Heather answered, “I want you to write about your life.”

My mother looked even more confused and commented, “What would I write? My life hasn’t been anything extraordinary.”

“I think it probably was, Nana,” her young granddaughter continued. “And I want to know about you before there was me.”

The memory of that Christmas so long ago enveloped me as I sat down and slowly folded back the cover to see page after page filled with my mother’s beautiful handwriting. She had never mentioned that she’d followed through with my daughter’s request. Instead she had quietly written page after page until the book was full of her life, her love and her memories.

It took me hours and hours to read through my tears but I learned so many things about my mother that I never would have known if she hadn’t written it down. I wished that she had shared it with me while she was still alive and decided right then to write about myself so my children would learn who their mother was as she grew up. I also decided that they needed to have it NOW, instead of after my passing.

I know that the book my mother wrote was for her only granddaughter and I told Heather when I found it. She graciously gave me permission to cherish it for a while myself before turning it over to her. I open it often and think about my mother. I hope my daughter and son will open my books when I’m gone and that they’ll have happy memories too.

*********

Gram use’ta say

“Live your life in such a manner as to allow your friends to have lots of funny stories to tell long after you’re gone.”

*********

From The Hints Book Almanac
By Donna Hale Chandler and Richard Lee King
USES FOR ALUMINUM FOIL, cont’d

13. Keep your oven clean – Keep messy drips off the bottom of your oven by laying a sheet or two of aluminum foil over the rack below. DO NOT line the bottom of the oven, this could cause a fire.
14. Keeps pets off your furniture – Place a piece of aluminum foil on the seat cushions. After one attempt at sitting down on the noisy surface, your pet will no longer consider this a comfortable place for a nap.
15. Sharpen your scissors – Fold aluminum foil into several layers and start cutting. Seven or eight passes should do the trick.

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By:  Donna Hale Chandler

After 39 years of marriage I lost my husband to cancer. We had a happy marriage and after the crippling grief began to ease a bit, I decided that I wanted to be happy again.

I turned to the internet. Meeting people without having to face them seemed a good idea to me at the time, however my first dating experience was disastrous. It made me question whether or not dating was for me. Then I met a nice man and agreed to a face-to-face meeting. Before leaving on this blind date, my mother cautioned me regarding ax murderers, serial killers and rapists. However, our first meeting went well and that brought about future outings, the movies and dinner once or twice. He worked ‘nights’ so our dating, if you can call it that, was during day-light hours. Occasionally he would stop at my home on his way to work to watch the news with me and have a few cups of coffee.

This particular evening he complained of indigestion and asked for a couple of antacids. He settled comfortably in my living room recliner and seemed to be feeling better. Then suddenly he began gasping for breath and I knew he was in serious trouble. I immediately grabbed the phone and dialed 911. Before the operator had time to answer, his breathing had stopped.

The calm, soothing voice on the other end of the phone told me that he would walk me through CPR, but first I needed to get my guest onto the floor. I dropped the phone, grabbed him by the ankles and pulled with all my strength.

Of course this caused his head to bang, no maybe bounce is a better description, off the seat onto the foot rest and off the foot rest onto the floor. The only thing I could think was, “Oh dear, I’ve killed him.” In my imagination, I could hear the doctor saying something about ‘blunt force trauma’ and could picture the investigation that would follow.

I began compressions, alternating with giving him breaths. The ambulance arrived. Competent people took over and then the questions began…….. lots and lots of questions. What is his medical history? What kind of medication does he take? Does he have a heart condition? I didn’t know.

Off to the hospital with me following the ambulance. Again the questions. I didn’t know the answers earlier, I still didn’t when they were asked in a different environment. However, the ER doctor had one new question. “Who is his next of kin?”

I had heard him mention his daughter’s name and suggested they might go through his cell phone looking for that name. That turned out to be the only helpful words I had uttered all evening because they were able to find his daughter and break the bad news to her.

By the time I got my weary body back home, it was quite late so I went right to bed. Tossing and turning, realizing how fragile our lives are, I wondered, “Do I really want to attempt this dating business?” At my age, maybe I should just forget it and find a hobby that would keep me occupied. Maybe I could be happy alone after all. Who knew that trying to date could be this disastrous?

After a sleepless night I awoke the next morning and realized that his car was still parked outside. My mother lived right down the street and I knew that sooner or later our condo association grapevine would notify her that SOMETHING was going on at my condo the night before and that a man’s body had been taken from my home on a stretcher. So I called her and told her the horrific news. I then asked her if she would follow me as I drove his car back to his home.

Her comment was an astonished “You mean his car was in front of your condo ALL NIGHT? Oh dear, what will the neighbors think?”

“Mom, are you busy? Will you follow me?”

“Of course. You should have called me earlier. We could have done this last night …….”

And so it went, a nice LONG lecture from my 79 year old mother to her 59 year old daughter about how easy it is to ruin your reputation.

Was dating worth all this trouble? Could I survive? Or maybe the question that should be asked is, WOULD MY DATE SURVIVE?

I decided that IF I do continue this new adventure, the next man will need to bring a doctor’s note.

*********

Gram use’ta say

“Always smile when talking on the phone.
The person on the other end of the line will “feel” your attitude.”

*********

From The Hints Book Almanac
By Donna Hale Chandler and Richard Lee King

USES FOR ALUMINUM FOIL, cont’d

10. Keep silverware untarnished – Store freshly cleaned silverware on top of a sheet of aluminum foil to deter tarnishing. For long-term storage of silverware, first tightly cover each piece in cellophane wrap. Be sure to squeeze out as much air as possible, then wrap in foil and seal the ends.
11. Preserve steel-wool pads –Just wrap your steel-wool pad in aluminum foil and toss it into the freezer. You can also crumple up a sheet of foil and put it under the steel wool in it’s dish or container.
12. Scrub your pots – Crumple up a handful of foil and use it to scrub your pots.

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A little over a year after I met my ‘keeper’, we had fallen into a comfortable routine. Part of which is a good-morning-email from me every morning. Even if I’ve stayed over at his house, once I get back to my home, I send him a good-morning-I-arrived-home-safe-and-sound-talk-to-you-later-note. He and I are both seniors and as seniors we like our routines.

What happens when we don’t follow our routine? Well, let’s just say, it’s not pleasant. This particular morning, I left his home after a cup of coffee and a quick glance through the newspaper. HOWEVER when I arrived home, my computer decided to be stubborn and I wasn’t able to get into my email.

As I was running late for a meeting, I sent him a quick IM (instant message) that said “Having trouble” and out the door thinking I would deal with ‘the trouble’ when I returned. Once I arrived at my meeting and took my seat, I realized that I had left my cell phone behind. I silently scolded myself for being so forgetful and promptly put computer, cell phone and anything else taking up grey matter space out of my mind.

When Sweetie saw my “Having trouble” message, he immediately tried to contact me to see what the trouble was and if he could help. He started by sending an instant message. I didn’t respond. Then he sent an email … I didn’t respond. He sent me a text message on my cell phone….. I didn’t respond. He called my home phone. I didn’t respond. He called my cell phone. I still didn’t respond.

He told himself there was nothing to worry about. After reading the ‘Having trouble” message again he again sent an instant message, email, text message, called the home phone and cell phone procedure all over again …….. And again …… and again.

By this time he was feeling quite desperate. He had sent numerous messages, emails and left numerous voice mails on both phones. He was frantic and to add to the drama, there is terrible thunderstorm raging outside. Rain is coming down in sheets as he continued pacing the floor. It was unimaginable to him that I’m not answering ANYTHING. He considered calling the police to see if there have been any reports of any type of emergency in my development, but decided against it. He didn’t know the names of any of my neighbors, so he couldn’t call them. He was in quite a quandary. What to do? What to do?!!!!!

Finally he jumped into his car and headed toward my home through torrents of rain. He was soaked to the skin, scared half to death, trying to drive as fast as was safe on the wet roads, when I casually walk through my front door and see that the message light on my answering machine is going crazy. My cell phone is buzzing and buzzing. I saw that I had SEVERAL missed calls from him so I called him first before I check everything else, not realizing that he was practically a crazy man at that point.

When he answered his phone, it was easy to tell that he was rather, shall we say, cross! At first, I think he was relieved that I was ok, but then he snapped at me for the first time ever….. Maybe it just seemed like he snapped, but I think it was his first instinct after he found out that I was ok and had just been a forgetful blonde senior (that’s a double whammy for forgetfulness!), by not taking my phone with me and not thinking that a message like “Having Trouble” would scare the you-know-what out of him………. He was extremely aggravated for being forced to leave his comfortable recliner to come out in the rain and drive like a maniac….. for no reason at all. I asked him to come on the rest of the way and I’d make us some lunch. But it was too late. He was a tad nippy and was not going to be pacified with a ham sandwich. He grumbled and groaned, turned his car around and went back from where he came.

I’m guessing the steam was still coming out of his ears when he walked, dripping rain water, back into his house.

But all’s well that ends well. He called later in the day. I gave him phone numbers for everybody that I know on Planet Earth so if I’m every ‘missing’ again he’ll have other people to share in his panic. And just between you and me, I know he was extremely angry with me but actually it’s a nice warm fuzzy feeling when someone cares enough to worry about you and will come out, in the rain, searching for you. I think I’ve found a ‘keeper’.

*********

Gram use’ta say

“If you want to be more attractive,
put a smile on your face.”

*********

                                

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

DEATH OF A RELATIONSHIP

A thorny rose,
no matter the terminology,
is still just a thorny rose.

Even worse,

after it drops its petals,
you are left with nothing,
but the thorns.

In life,

nothing is uglier
than that which remains
after all your pretty petals
have wilted and withered.

Nothing compares
to the ugliness of the dried,
crinkled remains

…after a beautiful paring

…has died upon the vine.

 *********

Gramps use’ta say
©R.L.King2012 #288

About: Respect 

“It’s more about what they say
behind yer back
…than what they say to yer face.”

BEER DRINKIN
© By: Richard L. King
From the book Wanderin & Wonderin

I’ve been a beer drinker, dang near all my life,
though I didn’t drink very much, til I met up with my third wife.

I don’t like to talk bad, behind nobody’s back,
but when it came to beer drinkin, she really had the knack.

She was one of them there gals, they wrote about in that there song,
She could drink ya under the table, an it wouldn’t take her very long.

I don’t remember the singer’s name, but his words I shore believe,
He said, “I cain’t be with nobody, who gets drunker an me.”

Well, in all my born days, I never did see the like.
She drank me under the table, then carried me to my bike.

‘Bout that time, I’d begun to think that this was pretty cool.
She’d gotten me out of the place, ‘fore I started actin’ a fool.

She finished off her beer, as she plunked me on my ride,
hauled me off to the preacher man, then she became my bride.

There’s another country song, but the singers not the same,
bout being married to yer waitress, when ya don’t even know her name

Them’re words of wisdom, but I heared em too damn late,
an a hard drinkin’ biker chick, turned out to be my fate.

Nuthin’ agin’ biker chicks, an nuthin’ agin’ hard drinkin,
but ever since that night, she’d been doin’ all my thinkin’

She’d tell me when I could go, an she’d tell me when to be back
I’da booted her out long ago, but she was damn good in the sack.

She’d a been real purtty too, least that was my belief,
that is if it had’na been fer, she’s a missin two front teeth.

Anyway, as I mentioned, she might’ a lacked a little class.
She said if yer talkin behind my back, yer in a good place to kiss my ass.

She overheard me conversatin, one night with my big brother.
She might’ a heared me a talkin’ ‘bout, my sexy other lover.

Now she keeps smiling at me, through them there missin’ teeth.
She keeps offer’n me more beer, an this here’s my belief.

 She’s a plannin’ to get me drunk, she knows I cain’t resist,
then she’ll disappear me, an’ tell em all that I left pissed.

 She’ll bury me with my bike, an I’ll jist be among the missin.’
Soon a nuf, at the biker bar, there’s another she’ll be a kissin.’

I plan to let her dig the hole, I’ll let her throw in my ride,
then I’ll hit her over the head, an bury em side by side.

Then when people ask, I’ll say she stole my bike,
‘course gettin’ to and from the bar, will be quite a nasty hike.

I been a talkin’ in the past tense, now I’m a fixin to say the reason,
I writ that poem years ago, jist cause I found it pleasin’.

But now I’ve actcherly met that gal, or at least her carbon copy.
Picked her up long side the road, the other day in my old jalopy.

Now the words to that old song, bout her gettin’ drunker’n me,
well, that’s how it’s done worked out, an she cain’t keep track of the key.

‘Course, she cain’t drive me home, she’d never pass the test,
so I either walk er call a cab, which I think is prob’ly best.

Ya ain’t allowed to hit no gal, whether yer drunk or sober.
So ‘fore ya hook up with no biker chick, Ya ought a git to know‘er.

*********

Gramps use’ta say
©R.L.King2012 #299

About: Work
“Nothin’s tougher
than a good pair of ®Carhartts.”

(…ceptin maybe Mama when she’s been crossed.”)