Happy New Year!
Sunday morning, the Harrison area awoke to the first accumulating snowfall. Such a beautiful sight from the inside of a warm house.
As I stood at the kitchen window in the darkness of the night, I watched the snowflakes dancing and swaying in the light that my son Keith Ballard had placed in a tree above my car in the drive.
As dawn approached I called our Vice President Bob Whitaker of Old Time Fiddlers, with the suggestion to cancel OTF. The wind was cold and the roads were bad. So I had to call about 30 members to tell them.
This is the first year that I haven’t let bygone memories of childhood take me on a mental journey. Not of toys nor bright Christmas lights but the smell of Mommy’s shucky beans, a skillet of some kind of meat frying, along with fried potatoes, Mom’s delicious stack cake, and a glass of cold, sweet milk.
Daddy getting small pokes of chocolate drops, hard tack candy, pink, white, yellow, and chocolate coconut bonbons, and of course a huge barber pole of peppermint candy.
Then of course there was a crate of huge red delicious apples, and oranges, a couple of hard coconuts, which Daddy would drive a nail though and we would all take a long sip of coconut milk, then crack it open with a hammer. We had no Christmas tree or toys, but still they’re memories of happy times.
I hope everyone had a very merry Christmas with all their wishes fulfilled. With plenty of food and wonderful memories to sustain you for a long time.
This is one Christmas that will long stay in my heart for the rest of my life.
I spent it in Good Samaritan Hospital. Actually I spent eight days in the hospital. I hope I never have to go there again.
I never even got to decorate my Christmas tree, nor put out my decorations. All I have is a maze in my living room to walk through until I can get feeling like carrying the totes of Christmas decorations back upstairs, which may be sometime in the summer.
I think they ran almost every test they could think of trying to find out what is going on with me. Finally they figured out an answer. It is called gastroparesis, which is damaged nerves in my stomach.
One thing about it, to be an old wrinkled gray-haired woman, I am getting a girlish figure back. Too bad it jiggles where once the skin was tight and sort of pretty. Well, I may as well laugh as to cry and feel sorry for myself.
Thanks for saying you missed my column, William Breeding, your call really brightened my day. Especially offering to send me a box of sunshine from Florida. If you would like to send me a box of oranges or grapefruit along with the sunshine, that would be great. Oh heck, I can’t eat them, so I guess you are saved.
Tell your misplaced hillbilly friends and your brother a big hello for me.
Please start saving for Blackey Days in October. If I am around I will meet you there.
I want to share with you a little mountain humor. An elderly man was in a home, the nurse came in and asked if she could get him anything. The man usually drank buttermilk but he decided he would change, so he asked for a glass of ‘sweet milk.’
The nurse replied, “We don’t have any sweet milk!” the elderly man says, “Yes you do.”
So this continued for some time, and when the man’s family came in the nurse asked, “What is sweet milk?”
That is all we ever heard while growing up was two choices, buttermilk and sweet milk.
How many remembers hearing a loaf of bread called “light bread?” Not to mention the word “poke”. The only thing I don’t recall is pop being called dope.
I understand that term was used around Whitesburg, or Marlowe.
My dear beloved friend Shirley Wells was the one who told me about this, and then Betty Ison used the term also.
Doyle and Betty Ison are having their share of health issues. I hope how fast they are feeling better.
Les and Pat Wagner once again slipped off to the mountains for a few days to spend time with family. I am beginning to think they are fair weather friends, spending so much time in the mountains, and not taking me. Oh how I wish I was able to go anywhere
I got a phone call from my friend Ma Crow, who is not only my friend but an exceptional musician, along with Vickie Abbott, Margie Drees, and Trina Emig who are known as Ma Crow and the Lady Slippers.
Ma Crow offered to come to the house along with Trina to play music for me.
When I had five-way bypass in 2012, Ma and Trina came to Christ Hospital to play music for me. Now you know it made me feel very special.
Richard Caudill is really enjoying the warmth of his new home. Ricky is a Vietnam vet. I would like to make a suggestion, let’s start a fund and get a recliner for Ricky as a house-warming gift. We all know how hard it is to furnish a house. I will put in the first $50 if someone will match it in small amounts or whatever you can do in appreciation of his time for serving our country. I don’t know of a place of business that sells recliners in Whitesburg.
Well, this computer is still messing up and as I type it skips keys, which make me want to throw it out in the yard. I still haven’t replaced my printer. I can’t find a loading printer.
I better get this on its way. Until next time, Rose Ballard, 9110 Lawrenceburg Rd., Harrison, Ohio 45030.
Email: Bluegrassmama4@aol.com, telephone: 513-526-8512.