Hello everyone, how is everything in the little corner of your world? I don’t know about everyone, but it seems time is no essence with me. I have to look at the computer or my phone to realize what day it is.
I have been in timeout for a month, except for one day a week as I have something important that I have to take care of. When my chore is done, I take about a 15-minute drive before I come home. That way I get to see a little of nature’s beauty.
I miss going to the grocery, and just going shopping, whether I buy anything or not.
My daughter Kay Gray and granddaughter Jodi Gray Davidson do a great job in getting everything I ask. I wanted some greeting cards, and Jodi picked out a good assortment.
Last Wednesday, Jodi was scheduled to bring me a few supplies. I wasn’t exactly sure the time of her arrival.
I became ill so I decided to lean back in my recliner, leaving my phone on the computer desk. Jodi knocked on the door, and by the time I got untangled from my blanket to get to the door, my phone was ringing. It was Kay saying Jodi was worried that I hadn’t answered the door.
Meantime Jodi had gone to the back door, but I knew she would come back around to the front. Jodi was crying as she thought something happened to me.
I made her sit down and we had a talk. There’s no use panicking over a few minutes of me not getting to the door.
As I proceeded, I explained I’m facing 75 in a month, and I’ve had a somewhat good life. I’ve had my share of troubles, yet the fun loving times outweigh any troubles. Just dwell on the special times.
For some reason someone sent me a message mentioning a name, Buster Gibson, from years ago at Premium, formerly Hot Spot. I have no idea who Buster Gibson was; I don’t recall the name.
I didn’t live with my parents, Clayton and Ora Hall, when they lived at Hot Spot. I did come and go at times.
I became acquainted with Grant Caudill who had the post office and grocery store. Over the years I became acquainted with two sisters, Lorie Patrick and Susie Marshall.
Whatever the reason for bringing up a name, I have no idea, and can care less.
Doug Gentry, I do recall your family, as your dad, Jack Gentry, along with his brothers Ray and Lee, were drinking buddies with my dad.
My former years have taught me to be the person I am today. No, I am not proud of my past, but you can bet your boots I am proud of the person that is writing this column.
When I look at my adult children, my grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, saying I am proud doesn’t start to describe how I feel, coming from my background to what I have accomplished and knowing my husband and I did something right.
Minnie Whitaker was the first person to ever take me to church. Then I got fascinated as I heard the preacher was going to throw Martha Whitaker Mitchell out of church.
What I didn’t realize is they were meaning they were taking Martha’s name off the church book, as she had cut her hair.
I literally thought they were going to throw her out of the church bodily. Well anyway it kept me going to church for quite a while.
A family named Burchell and Catherine Jones moved to Roxana, they were Holiness, which meant there was singing and music.
Oh yes I would go to their house to listen, as at that young age, I loved music. Both Grandma Rosa Hall, and my grandmother Betty Adams Barton played music.
Needless to say I was hooked from the first time I heard the music the Jones family played.
To this day I remember Irene Jones Gibson singing and playing the guitar. The song, “I Found It in Mother’s Bible” is still embedded in my brain.
At least going to church also taught me right from wrong, which I didn’t always heed to, but it still gave me the knowledge.
While writing this column, my inquisitive mind got the best of me. I looked on YouTube, typed in a few words of the long ago song “I Found it in Mother’s Bible.” Well I found the song on YouTube.
At least this has taken my thoughts away from this monster called coronavirus that is invading everyone’s life no matter who we are.
For the first time I have a new car, enough money to go places, and the price of gas is low. Here I am in timeout.
I miss Carcassonne Community Center. I miss the music, even though I am not able to dance, I miss watching. I really miss Mike and Marcia Caudill and others.
I miss Friday evenings at Campbell’s Branch Community Center. I’m missing Darlene and Alice Campbell, along with Red and T. Campbell, and several others I’ve become acquainted with.
Oh yes I am missing Sunrise Ridge, along with the house band Friends of Bluegrass.
Last week I mentioned wild bluebell flowers in my column, as my daughter Anna Nottingham found some.
Friday afternoon, my son Keith Ballard and I went for a walk to the bridge not far from our house, after making several stops to catch my breath. Someone had managed to place a tent on a slab in Whitewater River.
Keith wanted me to see it. Keith thinks it was done for a joke. Regardless, it was a dangerous thing to do as there are sinkholes in the river and the current can pull you under.
That sparked an interest for me to try walking again.
Saturday was a beautiful day, so I decided to walk again with the assistance of a stick that helps me to keep my balance. As I got to my destination I looked over a bank, and there was wild Sweet William blooming.
Of course I had nothing to dig them up. I walked on the opposite side of the road, and I couldn’t believe my eyes, as there were several bunches of wild bluebells.
When I arrived home I asked Keith if he would dig them for me. Now what followed next, please make sure you aren’t drinking anything.
Keith’s truck is so high off the ground it was difficult to climb in. I didn’t want to wait for him to get the five-gallon bucket for me to step on, as that is hard to do also.
When we got to the location of the flowers, Keith turned his truck around and parked with the truck leaning on the side of the embankment. Keith asked me to sit still while he got the bucket. There was no way I could step on the bucket on a steep embankment.
I decided to open the door and slide out of the seat. It would have been great, except when I put weight on my right broken ankle that isn’t healed, it pitched me forward. Let’s say it’s a good thing the grass was soft.
I landed on both knees, but no, I wasn’t hurt. Keith didn’t see me fall, but he did see me struggling to get up after I quit laughing.
We finally waked across the road, and yes, Keith dug a bunch the wild bluebells for me. Now I hope they survive the winter months.
I forgot to say no, I didn’t get back in the truck, I walked home. You would be surprised what a little while in the fresh air will do to perk up your spirit.
Johnny and Ann Calihan are getting very tired of this stay at home order also.
Sunday started as a dreary day with rain, then chilly temperatures. Finally the sun came out and it was cool but beautiful in the afternoon.
Johnny and Ann decided to get out of the house for a bit, so they ventured on a short walk enjoying the scenery of spring on their street. Their daughter, Sue Wagner, is still having good and bad days. Thank God the liver is still working good.
Tom and Sue are in the process of trying to find a home to buy without much success.
Hello to Les and Pat Wagner and all the family. Pat, I will try to check on you in a few days.
The Old Time Fiddlers meeting has been put on hold as the VFW Post is closed.
It makes no sense to me that churches are closed, yet abortion clinics are open. Liquor stores are open, and retail stores are closed.
Walmart is open. They will take your money as you purchase items, yet you can’t get a refund or exchange.
Keith purchased three packages of men’s socks. They were so flimsy, yet cost almost $30. He tried to exchange or refund, but due to the coronavirus he wasn’t able to.
Don’t forget, if you want to watch a good movie check out Mountain Minor on your computer. It is free.
If you want a good book to read, I still have a few copies of “The Beauty of a Rose” available at $15 plus $6 postage. Until next time.