Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
Now grab that hot cup of coffee and let’s chat a spell.
I really believe Thanksgiving is lost between Halloween and Christmas!
Oh, how I used to enjoy Thanksgiving when my children were little. My husband and I once loaded the kids along with turkey and trimmings and went to the mountains to spend Thanksgiving with Mom and Dad and the family.
That was wonderful, as it was the only time we ever spent Thanksgiving back home. On the way back it snowed so hard that my husband could hardly see the road, and cars were sliding off the side of the highway.
About 40-plus years ago, Dad and Mom and the kids came here to Harrison to have Thanksgiving with us. If memory serves me right. Jr. Crockett “Karaka” brought Dad and Mom out to visit us, then he went on to Dayton to visit his sister.
That Thanksgiving we had 21 people at our house for dinner. There was so many that kids ended up sitting on the stairwell to eat.
Several of my husband’s family were there, plus Daddy and Mommy and most of my siblings. I can remember Mom laughing and asking, “Lord, Rosella, where are you going to put all these people?”
We managed, and I must say I enjoyed every bit, even the mess. Now all I have is my memories.
When Richie was a teenager he brought Dad and Mom to our house for July 4. Now that is also a favorite memory as I have a fivegallon hand crank ice cream maker. Actually that might have been the first and last time it was ever used.
The ice cream was delicious, but I had a whole bunch of tired guys because that was a lot of cranking.
Since my children are all grown and I am divorced, holidays aren’t the same anymore. Actually I have spent several holidays alone, my choice.
If my son isn’t planning on being home, I may just show up, invited or not, at an old house in Johnson Fork, if it isn’t snow up to my knees, and say, “Ricky, let’s bundle up and go for a ride on the four-wheeler.” That is if he isn’t busy riding with someone.
I am too old to fight and can’t run so maybe I better call first before just popping in.
Mike and Marcia Caudill spent a few days with their son Matt Caudill in Florence, then traveled on to Louisville to visit Mike’s family for an overnight visit.
Now is the time to hear all the complaints of how cold it is. One thing about it, there weren’t enough hot days this summer for anyone to complain about, or at least I couldn’t.
I haven’t heard anything from Les and Pat Wagner since they went to Smokies for a few days to celebrate their anniversary. I am sure they had a great time.
Hello to Larry and Becky Hasty and to Polly, and beautiful Kelly, and all the Wagner family who read my column.
Doyle and Betty Ison, if I make back to your big deck, I guess I will have to bring a cover. Oh, that really doesn’t sound like an impossible thing for me to do.
Betty Kelly, I have an electrical outlet just above my porch swing and I’m thinking about lugging my electric blanket out and sitting on the porch as I miss our conversations.
Once again as I let my thoughts drift back to childhood I can never remember Mom taking the time to sit and enjoy a leisurely cup of coffee, and don’t even mention a soft drink because that is something we never had as a child. Nor such a thing called tea, no matter what kind.
Oh, wait a minute, yes we did we had something called “hickory tea”, except you didn’t want that as it stung a little as a hickory switch twigged your legs if you didn’t behave.
Johnny and Ann Calihan, I hope you both are doing alright. I keep planning on stopping by and that’s all I get done, as it seems I never do what I plan.
Belated happy birthday to my son-in-law Scott Nottingham on Nov. 7, and to my granddaughter Katelyn Nottingham, Nov. 10.
My dad and mom would have been married 70 years, Nov. 6, and Grandma Rosa Hall ‘s birthday was Nov. 7. Right now I can’t even think of the year she was born.
As I was taking Keith to work early in the morning this week, a deer was in the road. It was dark I didn’t see it and when Keith said there’s a deer the second time, he said it too late, and I hit the deer and it went flying above my hood.
I was shaking so bad and knew my car was damaged, but when Keith and I got to look, there wasn’t anything we could see. When it got daylight we did see a very small place on the lower bumper guard, and it bent my front license plate.
I was very lucky. It worried me about the deer as I hated the idea of it being injured and suffering. The next day Keith saw it lying off the side of the road as the impact had killed it.
Thursday night was Grandparents’ Night at my little sidekick Bennie Wiederhold’s school, and he wanted me to go. It really was a fun time. There was a program for the grandparents with a video of each class. Bennie’s class was dancing, and I must say this little sidekick of mine can dance.
Now my checkbook was a little less as Bennie knew which books he wanted before we got to the event. I would buy books for my grandchildren if it meant I had to do without food as I remember how much I wanted something to read as a child.
I can remember finding a True Story Magazine that someone had given Mommy. Daddy hated those books, and why I don’t know as he didn’t read them. If you were caught reading a True Story, Dad would jerk it out of your hand and throw it in the fire if there was one in the fireplace. I soon learned to raise the cushions up on a chair and slip it under a chair cushion.
When I stayed at home I wasn’t allowed to wear shorts. Many a time in the summer I would put a pair of shorts on when I was home, and one of my siblings would come running saying, “Here comes Daddy,” so I would slip my skirt up over my shorts.
Richard Caudill was laughing and asked me when I was a young girl and came back to Mom and Dad’s, did I wear my jeans rolled up to my knees? Ricky is several years younger than me, and this made me laugh as I really doubt he could remember me.
Wearing my jeans rolled to my knees has been a trademark for me as far as I can remember, and I still do the same.
Ricky remembers that my hair was very dark with almost a red look when I was in the sun, and I did have dark, chestnut brown hair that looked auburn in the sun. I used to be told that I had hair like Dad’s sister, Aunt Victoria. I wish I still had that chestnut mane as now it has turned to gray.
Oh well, why complain? I could change it, but I won’t as I can’t do anything about the wrinkles that go with the gray hair.
On that note, I will get this on its way. Until next time.