Johnnie and his hair-dos

Many years ago my mother-in-law made this remark:  “Hair is a problem at any age." I think she was referring to women and girls, but men and boys can be included, somewhat. Even from the beginning of time no doubt. In Bible times David’s son, Absalom, got his hair caught in some tree branches, and Sampson let Delilah cut his hair, both episodes ending in disaster.  

John was born in March of 1945 in St. Joseph, Missouri. Franklin D. Roosevelt died the same day that we brought John home. My mom had come to our house to stay a few days, so she, Mary, and Nancy were there to greet us.

Johnnie (as he was called for some time) had dark hair, enough to cover his head pretty well, but I believe he was about two years old when he had his first hair cut.  Franklin took him to his barber, Squint Pearce. When the barber turned on the electric clippers for the finishing touch, Johnnie wanted out of there so he raised so much of a ruckus that several of the townspeople gathered around outside the window.  I was not there at the time but Nancy, his little seven-year-old sister, remembers it quite well. The story goes that by the time he was old enough for a crewcut, or whatever it was called,  he'd say to her "Tancy, feel my hair cut!"

During the years when he was small, times were still  hard. There had been rationing of sugar, gas, coffee, and other commodities. However, we had electricity by the time Johnnie was born. There was a period of time that I was the barber of our household.  I remember quite well when John was ready to start high school he told me that I would not need to cut his hair anymore. I soon learned why when he came home one day with a flat top-wing hair cut. I will have to admit that was a shocker. I can't recall what I might have said, but his dad said plenty when he mistook John’s Brylcreem for toothpaste once. There was quite a lot of excitement for a little bit. I'm sure John found a different place for his greaser’s crème after that.

This incident happened in the late fifties or early sixties. John copied this hair style after his three young uncles, Art, John, and Gene Fisher. The style was to use butch wax, brylcreem, and wildroot creme oil to slick the hair back and call themselves greasers. That seemed a little far out to we oldies, no doubt. He used something called peach pomade which looked like Vaseline but smelled good. He copied that after Jack, Mary’s husband, who had a thick head of hair and was a greaser for a time.

In the early eighties John grew side burns and his hair looked like Elvis (not bad!). Then later still a beard. Now his hair has turned to silver, which he took after my dad who also had a nice head of hair.

Those were the days, and I would not want to trade them for anything!

Little ones and chores

When someone mentions the word chores we think of some dreaded task or routine: something that has to be done whether we feel like it or not, although that is not always so. For instance, walking the dog or gathering the clothes off the clothesline on a sunny, breezy, summer day. They smell so nice and fresh! This has nothing to do with little ones and chores, you might ask, but I just happened to be thinking way back when my little ones were always eager to "help" with all sorts of chores and that was just one.

Each little one liked to be in on most every chore that I can think of. The washclothes or tea towels or socks might be somewhat off center, but I always told them that they were a big help and thanked them. When they were little they liked to help set the table, dry dishes, sweep the floor (with their own little broom), dust the furniture, etc. Even John liked to do some of those things when he was very little, but he very soon liked to "help" his dad work on the machinery. One day, when he came in the house with his hands all covered with axel grease black as tar and a big smile, he exclaimed "Look Mom! I've got grease ALL over my hands!" I'm sure his dad bragged on what a good job he had done helping grease the wagon axel or whatever it was he had "helped” do.

Most little ones like to imitate their mom and dad. They are inspired by how we talk to them when they have done something to the best of their ability. A little praise goes a long way. At this age I think “thank you” and telling them what a good helper they had been is better than giving them money. A reward is not expected unless we put the idea in their thinking. That will come much later when they have learned how to use money wisely. I do think it is OK for them to have their piggy bank, but that’s another subject. There are many things that little ones can learn to do by tagging alongside their mom and dad or older siblings. So little by little the little ones, in their innocence, are learning what it means to “Do The Chores”.

To name some of the chores that they eased into gradually were: setting the table, washing and drying the dishes, washing windows, feeding the chickens, gathering eggs, helping plant the garden, hoeing, husking roasting ears, feeding the pigs, going after the cows from the pasture to the barn to be milked, and the list goes on and on. Kids didn't get bored back then for lack of something to do.

To celebrate my 50th Blog Posting: What I Think About This Blogging and Computer Business

The idea of ever owning a computer had never entered my mind until Nancy mentioned she had seen an article in a magazine about a computer for seniors. She told Bill about it wondering if “mama” might like one. They agreed to find out about it, and Nancy asked me what I thought. I remember being shocked by her question. I was too old! I might have considered it back in my eighties, but Nancy and Bill sold me on taking a chance so I agreed to "give it a whirl" thinking I wouldn't have to keep it if it didn't work out for me.

They told Wendy and Robert (Bubba) about it. After that Robert got on the Internet and found this one that would be better than the one advertised in the magazine. Nancy and Bill mentioned to John and Judy about getting it for my 95th birthday as a surprise. Wendy and Robert ordered the computer and had it sent to Austin where Robert installed PointerWare. Robert got it all set up and then had FedEx deliver it to my house before Robert and Wendy came so Robert could install it. Mary talked to the person(s) in Savannah who would help getting it connected to the Internet.

It was Wendy and Robert, Nancy and Bill, John and Judy, and Mary who all went in on getting it for my 95th birthday. It was a surprise all right, as the party was in October but my birthday is in November! This was in 2009, and I still have the PointerWare and a nice computer desk from Wendy and Robert.

I will confess that I had not known what a blog was until Bubba asked if I could write something about where I was born and some things I remembered when I was small. After I sent two or three I supposed that would be the end of it. And I said that I had sent the notes for his blog. He quickly fired an email back which read: MY blog? That’s YOUR blog!!! Well I am told that this is Blog Number 50.

I was just wondering: If I am a blogger, is there such a thing as a bloggee??

I have really enjoyed this computer. It has so many things that I haven't begun to get a pinch of the things it will do. It has Internet, games, and voice mail that I especially like. I can even listen to Bubba's musical band.

Thanks Bubba!

What I thought about Elvis Presley

My thoughts and feelings toward Elvis were rather mixed. I liked hearing him sing. I remember a few of them: "You Ain’t Nothin’ But a Hound Dog", "Love Me Tender", and others that I can't recall unless someone mentions them. However, I didn't like watching him once performers were shown below the waist on T.V.: that was too much. At least I thought so, so I probably missed out on a lot of his shows during those times.

However, some time later after listening to the story of his life and the struggles he had with drugs after he became famous, I changed my thoughts about him. Down deep, I think, Elvis was a caring, kind, and generous person. It showed in the way he treated those who were less fortunate.

Elvis put a lot of feeling in any type of song whether it was pop, gospel, or country, and I can truly say that I loved his singing. Other favorites that he sang were "Amazing Grace", "An Evening Prayer", and "How Great Thou Art".

I was lucky enough to get to see his Graceland place. It was in the mid 70s when my sister-in-law, Grace, invited me to go on a trip with her and her daughter, Rose, and a college friend, Mary Lou. We went to Brownsville,Texas, to visit my sister and husband, Janice and Bill Girard, then some other places. New Orleans for one where we toured several interesting places on the Gulf Coast. We toured the Super Dome and saw the football stadium.

Rose remembered one incident that happened where we stopped to eat breakfast one morning. I asked if they had bran cereal. The waitress replied that they had “risin bran” but none of us could understand what she was saying until we guessed it was “raisin bran”. I can imagine that I was "relieved"!

Getting back to Elvis: I imagine God has a Mansion for him Up Yonder a zillion times more wonderful than the one he had Down Here.

Mary and Nancy in suits

Those photos of Mary and Nancy modeling bathing suits at the farm took place about the year of 1956, give or take a year or so. Perhaps the date was written on the original snap shot.

The girls had summer jobs, so they had a little cash to spare and decided to go to St. Jo on a shopping spree. If I remember right, they didn't have bathing suits in mind. Probably they were thinking of getting new school clothes or just going window shopping?!

It seems that they just happened to notice a sale on bathing suits. There two left, both alike, both the right sizes, and the color they both liked. There was one problem: Mary lacked enough money. Nancy quickly came to her rescue with a loan!

The day they came out all "dolled up" I was in shock for a fleeting moment but thought they looked like beauty queens for sure. The way I recall about taking their picture was that they were a little hesitant but I convinced them that I would like to have a snapshot. I imagine that they did as well. Nancy thinks that the reason they posed with their hands on their hips was that they were pretending to be Jane Russell and Lana Turner or some of the movie stars of the late 40's and early 50's.

At that time those bathing suits were a bit old fashioned compared to the latest fashion, so they were not thought to be risque at the time, at least to them. Me? Well, bathing suits were really suits back in my early years!

Mary has picture of herself in the summer of 1958 with some of the girls at the swimming pool in Idaho Springs, Colorado, when she and some of her friends worked at the Brown Derby Restaurant. She and Jack were married in December of 1958, so she knows she had it for a few more years.

Nancy found hers in the attic several years later. It was brittle from old age and chlorine. Needless to say, she threw it away.

Mary, then Nancy, and John

We had three children, the first child was Mary, then Nancy, and John.

Mary was born on one of the hottest days the summer of 1936 at the home of Franklin's parents in St. Joseph, Missouri.

I recall the sound of the huge old-fashioned electric fan as it rotated and whirred sending a cooling breeze my way and the sips of ice water that my sister, Janice, and my mother-in-law brought. What luxury! The next door neighbors were having a house built, and I thought what a hot job they have out there in the broiling sun as I listened to the noises of saws, hammers pounding, etc and a few cuss words once or twice at least.

The doctor had the old school idea that in most cases its best to "let Nature take its course”. However, after a time, it was evident that this was a breach birth. He told his wife, who was also his nurse, that the baby might not be needing the new baby basket that Anne, Franklin’s sister, had bought and was having delivered to the house. However, when I heard someone say "It’s a girl!" and later when the nurse laid her in my arms, life was never the same after that very day!

We had talked about names. I liked the name Mary, so that was agreeable with Franklin. We thought we could name her after both of us, so we talked and more or less agreed on Linn, and the subject was dropped for the time. Later Franklin’s mom suggested Dale which was Franklin's dad’s middle name, so that it is. We didn't know that the doctor had sent it in to be recorded, but it was changed when she had to show it to get a job teaching.

Three years later, lacking one day, Nancy was born. This time I went to the hospital! Winter and summer were still pretty extreme temperature and weatherwise. We still had the same doctor. The day before I had so much energy that I cleaned everything indoors and out. I even scrubbed the Brooder House--no pun intended. I got enough exercise without going to the gym.

In the wee hours of the morning, I was sure that the time was almost up, so Franklin took me to the hospital. The doctor said that it would be a while, so he left me in the care of a nurse and left to chore or whatever. At that time family or friends had to stay in the waiting room until a nurse came out with any new information.

Time went on, and I think they were saying that I might leave. Everyone was getting pretty well relaxed, especially the doctor and his nurse, who were telling jokes. I was still on a bed, and the little gurney was beside me ready to take me to the delivery room when the time was ripe when all of a sudden the babe was getting tired of this nonsense and decided to make a quick entrance into the great universe. Boy, did that get everyone’s attention! While they were "throwing" me on the gurney, the doc says "Hold it! Hold it!", but I didn't know how that was possible, so it wasn't but a few minutes after they got me placed in the delivery room that we were the parents of another baby girl!

When they brought her for me to see, I looked twice to make sure. Her ears were folded over, her forehead was slanted back, and the back of her head was too big. Amazingly, by the next day or so, everything was in place and she was as cute as a button. I had always liked the name Nancy and when I suggested it everyone agreed. Then for a middle name I believe that Gran came up with Jane, her Mother’s middle name. I also thought it would be after my sister, Janice. Our old neighbors had always called her Jane and so did Bill, her husband.

The years passed and the attic was needing a cleaning. I ran across the old baby clothes that I'd been keeping, just in case. I decided that maybe it was time to get rid of them, including the diapers--everything. And so I did. About two or three months after that episode, it was evident that we were expecting a third child. Then it hit me: What have I done? What if it’s another girl? There were a lot of cute things I got rid of, and diapers were all alike then and cloth. Birdseye material was expensive (we bought the material and hemmed our own as we couldn't afford to buy the ones already made). Time passed. I marked on the calendar the day I'd be due.

Our old doctor had retired. There was a new doctor who was practicing in a small town nearby who had been recommended and delivered in a hospital in St. Joseph. By now we had electricity and running water but still no gravel roads. It came March, the month that I had marked on the calendar. It had snowed and was cold, and then it would get warm enough to thaw the roads. The mud would get deep then, if it froze again, it was like riding a bucking bronco to ride over the frozen ground in the car. It was either get stuck in the mud or the other--most of the time.

About two or three weeks before time was up, Franklin's folks decided that I had better stay with them (at least most of the time). I was back and forth. This particular day, Franklin and the girls had come to see me. Everything seemed as usual, so they went home. As I remember, Gran was keeping Nancy part of the time. They had just arrived home when they got a call from Anne that she had taken me to the hospital as I was going into labor. This was early evening. The doctor had been called, so the stage was pretty set for the performance to begin any time, or so we thought. I kept in mind the date I had circled on my calendar, which would be the next day. Night came and the doctor announced that he was going to take a nap and to call him when he should be there. At 3:00 o'clock in the morning I heard the doctor say "You have a fine baby boy".

Horses, as farming was concerned, were going out and tractors were in. Johnnie, as he was called then, was born with a built-in motor. Although he did like ponies after the girls taught him not to be scared of them.

I may write more about this subject at a later date. For now I will say: I have three fine kids!!

A city boy gone farm

What those early days on the farm with Franklin (a city boy gone farm boy) were like…

First of all, Franklin had been a farm boy at heart, since he was old enough to go to the farms of some of his friends and "help" with chores but most of all ride horses and play in the hay!

He told of one episode that got him in trouble. He and some of the boys made a tunnel thru some hay in the haymow so they could smoke, being VERY careful to put the matches and cigarettes out in a little can of water brought for safety's sake. I think he said that they got the idea from some other older buddies. They had a flashlight for extra precaution. Somehow they got caught and punished, but he never told this story much as it was so stupid and dangerous.

He loved to ride the horses or ponies and always dreamed that some day he would get a pony and have a place for one, so he saved up enough money and sent off for a pony saddle. He never got to own a pony but hung on to that saddle for a long time. Someone else may remember hearing whatever happened to it. His mom may have taken care of the situation.

The farmers that he worked for during the summers were prosperous hard-working good people, so he did love farm life as he saw it in those days. After he was old enough to get summer jobs, he worked for a dairy farmer delivering milk. Then, when in high school, he was a paper boy. He liked everything about that job except having to get up so early. His mom "suffered much agony gettin' him up most mornings", she said.

I suppose all the above has a little bearing on what it was like in those early days on the farm. Maybe.

After the "honeymoon" days, reality set in pretty quickly, but it didn't seem to bother us so much until the advantage of city life was SO missing. Still, I was able and willing to take it in stride and so was Franklin.

Other than the other things I've mentioned (dust storms etc. that went along with the Great Depression) the first four or five years of marriage put us to the test!

First, though, I will mention the good neighbors, our families, and friends and the smalltown folk; how they all helped us and cared about us in so many ways.

About two weeks after we were married, the neighbors all around surprised us with a shivaree and shower. We were sitting in the kitchen when all of a sudden we heard horns honking, cow bells ringing, pounding on buckets with sticks, I suppose, then hollering of "Come on out!!!" They brought all kinds of home canned food and homemade ice-cream and cake. What a welcome it was. Of course Franklin had met and knew many of them. Delbert Everly, our closest neighbor, "tricked" Franklin into letting him borrow his car to go to Rosendale. Wanted to make sure that we'd be home! It ws Delbert who gave us a bred gilt. She had the cutest litter of piglets, which gave us a jump start in the hog "business". My folks gave us 100 baby chicks. One of the hens from that bunch was speckled and different from the rest. We kept her until she died of old age "just because". They also gave us some meat when they butchered and garden veggies when they had "some to spare". I sometimes helped can peaches etc. and could have some too.

Franklin's folks bought us most of our furniture and gave us much in the way of food--you name it. We both had wonderful parents, something to be thankful for indeed.

Other things that happened were the ice storms and the snow blizzard. During the ice storm, everything was covered with thick ice, so much so that one could ice skate on the road. We lost some cows that winter. Franklin didn't think what would happen if he turned all of the cows out of the barn to go to the water tank which was downhill from the barn and close to the creek. Instead of letting them out one at a time, they all tried to run to get to the tank first, knocking into one another, falling and sliding downhill, some landing in the creek. I don't remember how many died of broken legs etc. Some were pulled out by ropes and tractor.

The above happened I think quite a lot later. The first winter we also had ice that covered everything, and we didn't have a wood pile stored up in preparation so Franklin had to take the hand saw and saw some lower limbs off of trees in the yard. In the process a limb came down and hit him on the top of his head. He came in the house bleeding. It did leave a scar, in more ways than one. It was so cold that moisture froze on the kitchen wall, and the water had frozen in the water bucket by morning. By this time we were living in one room, the dining room. That is where the heating stove was. We moved the little kerosene cook stove and the cot to sleep and all in that one room. At that time we didn't have our dining room furniture. Then came a snow blizzard, but not before we managed to get the cross-saw out and saw up some wood in the back porch and kitchen--we could do some water heating on the heating stove. The teakettle was a comfort and furnished moisture and hot water at all times. Of course we had to carry water from the hand pump well which was several feet from the back door.

This is a part of our early days; more disasters happened in the years to come, but for the most part changed for the better. We stared out without a telephone, no gravel roads--just dust or mud...deep mud, no washing machine, no electricity, no tractor, just a team and a walking plow, a hoe and a rake and binder twine for marking the rows in the garden, bug dust, and a fly swatter.

One incident that almost "got my goat" was the time I had washed (on the board) and hung the clothes on the line. It was windy so made it a little harder to hang, besides it had rained and was partly muddy underfoot. Only nice thing it was sunny and the clothes would dry quicker and smell sweeter; nothing nicer than to sleep under sheets that dried on the line. After a time I looked out to find that the clothes line had broken and all of the clothes were on the ground. I can still remember what a time I had washing all of those clothes over, besides having to carry the water--extra water. Oh well that was forgotten and I believe Franklin took me for a spin in the little Ford Roadster to see my folks or maybe his folks, no matter, no use crying over "spilled milk".

I have so many fond memories and lots to be thankful for past and present. And whatever our future holds depends a lot on how we live our todays.