Labor Day Labor

We had a great time Monday working at Mother's house and doing some things she needed and wanted done. We helped her do a little cleaning and some moving of furniture and she was so pleased with the results.

Then the Mcs and we were going to take Mother to Braum's for lunch but she wanted a Johnnie's chicken sandwich, so to Johnnie's we went. She had fretted since last Saturday evening when we had to cancel our monthly family get-together because of football. She missed her chicken sandwich.

Here she is finally getting her chicken sandwich. Paul, Tom, and I also ordered one. Really good. I see why she likes them. The chicken was twice the size of the buns. None of this "Where's the beef (chicken)?" on this sandwich.

We then took Mother to Bob Mills to buy her a recliner. She picked out a Cat-Napper, a power lift recliner of a "celery" color. We loaded it up in the Mcs pickup and headed to Cherry hollow to unload and hook up. What a challenge! Narrow doorways and one heavy, huge recliner that didn't come apart. The guys and Jenny made it work. Nice job for we older folks.

Here she is enjoying the fruit of our labors. We also installed three more phones so she now has a phone by her new recliner, one in the kitchen, and another in the living room. We thought that might help her not rush to answer the one phone that was downstairs.

Mother can now relax and lay back. She can read and control the TV from her chair. And best of all she can answer the phone with a click of a button. She is set up!

Good labor on Labor Day!
MB

Jamall Badry

I got a phone call from Jenny last night that they had received word that Jamall had died in the night Saturday night.

He didn't show up for church Sunday morning and they checked on him and he must have died in his sleep because he was in bed.

Here are a couple of his CD pictures. We love his music. It's somewhat traditional, but touches us in a way that only Jamall could do.

Wow! It's hard to believe that Jamall is gone. Just last week we received the flyer about his planned program in Branson MO this fall. How unexpected this is.

I think Jamall must have been around 75 years old, which I used to consider old, old. Today I consider it relatively young, young. It's all perspective.

Jamall will be sorely missed, both in his June MEF conference and his fairly new endeavor of having a program at Branson.

But we do have his music, which we will enjoy for years to come, but now with some sadness.
MB

Ty's 27th Birthday

Today is Ty Allen Austin's 27th birthday!

We had a celebration at Cherri and Mike's house this evening and had a great time. Cherri had fixed chicken fajitas and had lemon cake, Ty's favorite.

I love the way Ty shows his appreciation of his Grams taking his picture. haha

Ty starts college tomorrow. Even though he has a well-paying job, he's decided he wants to join the Peace Corps, but he needs a college degree. He laughingly commented that it seems a little strange to go to college so he can earn less money. But he added that he thought it more important to do what he really wants to do instead of just trying to make more money. Good kid. Good thoughts.

Happy Birthday TY!
Love you much!!
MB

Rush Springs Watermelon Festival

Had a fun but hot time at Rush Springs today, clogging at the Watermelon Festival. Notice on the program we are listed as the Okie Dokie Stompers. We are the Okie Stompers. I laughed when I saw that, but hey, it's kind of catchy. Why not?

We were scheduled for two thirty-minute performances, the first at 10:30 am and the second at about 11:15 am. The performances before us went way longer and we only got to do one performance at about 11 am. But that was okay with me because it was so dang hot. The sweat was rolling off all of us after we danced. Hot, hot, hot.

But it was fun. The person who invited us provided lunch for us and then gave each of the dancers a Rush Springs watermelon. They're the best.

Here's Freddie and I before we danced. I was taking some casual pictures of our group and had one taken of us. Freddie is the best dancer we have and he danced twice as many as the rest of us except for our leader. Everyone loves to watch Freddie! He's a really good clogger.


I only goofed up once, really bad. I turned the wrong way and it was very obvious. Oh, well, you try to smile and go on. I practiced that dern song a number of times, but...

Life is good. Life is fun.
MB

Double Celebration Day

Today is Wade and Rachelle's 27th wedding anniversary!

Happy Anniversary to a very special couple!!

And today is Jenny's 67th birthday!

Jenny does not like to have her picture taken or shown. So being the good sister that I am, I had to oblige. :)

August 6 has been a special day since we were kids because it is Jenny's birthday!

On her 40th birthday, 27 years ago, Wade and Rachelle got married. Jenny insisted it was a big bash just for her birthday.

Two very special events to celebrate today, August 6.
Happy Anniversary and Happy Birthday!!
Mary B

Brother and Sister Birthday

Today is Rachel's birthday.

Today is John's birthday.

I don't know how unusual it is to have a brother and a sister who have the same birthday. I do know it's somewhat unusual in this day and age to say you have ten brothers and sisters, which I do. And two of my siblings are celebrating their birthdays today. Love this day!!

I've already sent them an e-card each. Sure hope they check their computers today. I know Rachel will, not so sure about John. They both have children and grandchildren and I assume they will have family celebrations today.

Just wanted to say:
Happy Birthday, John!

Happy Birthday, Rachel!

Hope today is very special for you!
Love you!!
Mary B

Carmen's Birthday

Today is a very special day. It's my sister Carmen's 64th birthday.


But, she died in 1990 at the age of 44.

Her earth suit is buried here.


This day never comes and goes without my thinking of Carmen all day long. I wonder how she would look today. By dying fairly young, she remains forever young in my mind.

Carmen lived with us for awhile and every time I approached her room or she came where I was, our greeting to each other was "Toot, toot!" Strange greeting, but that's what we did.

Our family nickname for her from the time she was very little was Pooder. So, Toot, Toot, Pooder was heard a lot around our house the months she lived with us.

I loved that sister very much. She lived a troubled life and ended it herself, committing suicide.

I learned a lot from her. Some things I wish I didn't have to learn, but I do think I'm the wiser and more sensitive because of what I learned from living with and loving Pooder.

Today I just want to say again. I love you, Pooder.
Toot, toot!!
MB

A Mother Memory

Mom asked me to type an article she had written so that she can send it in to a magazine in hopes that they will print it. The article is below. I've added some pictures. I like stories like this from the past; helps me know what times were like when my Mom grew up.

Article by Virginia Pearl Salyer Cherry:

One of my favorite sons-in-law gave me a subscription to Reminisce Magazine. I am now a regular reader from cover to cover the day I receive it. After 92 years I have memories galore. This one may be interesting to your readers.

In 1930 my sister and I had a very interesting experience. We moved from Oklahoma to Texas after leaving our farm in Oklahoma. My Dad had nearly burned to death in a big fire when I was five years old, my sister was three, and my little brother was five months old. After a long convalescence and the oil company settlement, my Dad bought a small farm that we lived on about three years.

After a flood destroyed his last crop and with a broken leg, my father decided that farming wasn’t for him, so he rented the farm and took off for the great oil strike in East Texas. By then I was in junior high and we stayed for me to finish school’s end, then we took off for Texas to join my Dad. My Mother rented a truck, loaded our furniture, and put my sister and me atop the back in a sturdy double chair.

Kilgore, Texas was a very busy oil-boom town. My Dad had bought a two-room tent and built up two-steps in a mulberry grove filled with tents on the ground. He had worked long enough to get settled, but was let go from his first job the week we got settled in our new home.

He was not out of work for long and my mother went to work down the road a short distance at a little café. The owner let my mother buy several boxes of candy bars. She put straps on the boxes to go around our necks and let my sister and me walk around the oil leases where men were working on pipelines. We sold all our candy bars to hungry ditch diggers who were very glad to see us and welcomed our wares. Needless to say, we came home with empty boxes.

Later my Dad moved our tent down the road to a country school where my sister and I later graduated. My Dad became its custodian and my mother operated a café for the school’s children several years.

Should you choose to publish our family experience, my son-in-law will be very pleased.
[End of article]

Even if this article doesn't get published by the magazine, it was fun to type it and post it here. I'm glad Mom took the time to do this. I'm enriched.
MB

Funny Town Names

Reader's Digest had this great article about funny town names across America. Notice it ends in Happyland, OK.


"I was holed up in Boring, Oregon, wondering whether I should try someplace different. So I hopped in my car and drove to Why, Arizona, to figure things out. After a few days I found my answer in Whynot, Mississippi: I needed a town with some life to it. I made a beeline for Disco, Tennessee, where I danced so much, I wore out my shoes. The next day, I headed to Loafers Glory, North Carolina, for a new pair...


Afterward I looked sharp enough to take a break in Handsome Eddy, New York. Eddy wasn't around, but I knew where to find him—in Loveladies, New Jersey, where it seemed that all the women were trying to get to Husband, Pennsylvania...


It was a tough town. One gal told me my romancing needed work and sent me to Sweet Lips, Tennessee. Heartbroken, I put the car on cruise control and drove to Lonelyville, New York, for a stiff drink. I made a pit stop in The Bottle, Alabama, and finally hit rock bottom in Condemned Bar, California. Not surprisingly, I woke up the next morning in Cranky Corner, Louisiana. I knew that if I continued like this, I'd be headed straight to … Hell, Michigan...


Pulling myself together, I grabbed breakfast in Oatmeal, Texas, lunch in Sandwich, Massachusetts, and dessert in Pie Town, New Mexico. I should've stopped eating after Greasy, Oklahoma, because I was feeling pretty sick by the time I left Lick Skillet, Tennessee...


In Brilliant, Ohio, it finally dawned on me—I had to cease my wandering ways. I parked in Do Stop, Kentucky, took out the map, and chose my new home. I didn't need Wealthy, Texas, or Fame, West Virginia. I found everything I needed in Happyland, Oklahoma."

The last few months of weather in OK might cause other funny names like Ice Storm, Whirlwind, Hail Stone, or Twister.
MB

Terri, the Master Flute Player

Is one a flutist or flautist? Flutist is the older word. It really doesn't matter which word is used. Both words mean one who plays the flute.

Saturday, April 24, is a very special day. Our oldest granddaughter, Terri Austin Sanchez, will be playing her flute at her SMU graduation recital. Her Grams, parents, and sister will be in the audience feeling very proud and excited for her accomplishments.

I wanted to write something special in tribute to Terri, celebrating this remarkable day. I asked Terri to write and tell me of her journey, how she got started playing the flute and what it means to her. Here's what she sent me:

I’ve always loved music. Perhaps it was my mom singing to me as a child, the choir music at church, my father’s love of bands like Chicago, or maybe just Disney movies, but music is in my blood. I loved to sing and I participated in church choirs, the Waco Girls Choir and Texas Girls Choir, but I was never really picked for the big solos and no teacher ever really singled me out as having “talent.” I didn’t really sense things “clicking” until it was time to choose an instrument from middle school band.

I wanted to play the saxophone but had no inclination for it, and was more or less forced to take home a flute based on one enthusiastic band director’s excitement for the sound I made when I simply took a breath and blew on the headjoint. “Just try it,” my mother and Ms. Ledesma (the band director) urged. I took my flute home and went into my room. I set the case on my dresser and opened it up. I looked at the three pieces of the flute, still wrapped in plastic, and I will never forget what happened next. Not usually one to talk to myself, it surprised even me when I said out loud to the flute on my dresser, “I have a feeling you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together!”

Because of the passion and enthusiasm of Ms. Ledesma, and later the encouragement from my high school band director, Mr. Salazar, I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment when performing on my flute. My junior year, I decided not to be a lawyer and to study music in college. Helen Blackburn, principal flutist of the Dallas Opera, "discovered" me during a master class she gave at my high school and promptly gave me a scholarship to Floot Fire, a wonderful music camp in Dallas. Because of Floot Fire, I met the woman whom today I call my fairy godmother, Claire Johnson.

Claire's nurturing guidance prompted me to attend Southern Methodist University, where she was finishing 30 years there as a flute professor.

After she retired, I auditioned at the University of Colorado in Boulder because Alexa Still, one of my favorite recording artists, was the flute professor there. I moved to Colorado! I was doing pretty well on my flute at that point, but part of me was still searching for something more. Every summer, I would go back to Floot Fire and teach, happy to give back some of the gifts that had been given to me there.

During the summer of 2003, while teaching at Floot Fire (in Texas), I met Gabriel Sanchez. I was immediately drawn to his magical performances at the piano. At that point, I had no idea why, but I knew he was different. I knew that he had that special something I had been looking for. Fortunately for me, we also liked and then loved each other very much. Now we're married!

Ever since meeting Gabriel, my musicianship skills have sky rocketed. I had the information I needed to play the flute, but he gave me a window into a musical world I never even knew existed. To this day, I am still only at the beginning of what he has to offer as a teacher.

Over the past few years, with the help of my husband, I have had the privilege to do very well in flute competitions. The prize I am most proud of is not 2nd prize for the National Flute Association Young Artist competition, but actually the extra prize I received at the same competition called, "Best Performance of a Newly Commissioned Work."

The funny thing is, the night before the semi-finals in New York, I was in tears trying to figure out how to play this bizarre piece (called Gargoyles). Gabriel told me to calm down and took me to dinner. There at the table on a scratch piece of paper, he wrote down a "Top 10 List of Things to Remember While Performing Gargoyles." Well, because of that list, I won the prize for that piece!

I am so excited, because in a couple of weeks, I will have earned a Master of Music degree from Southern Methodist University. I have really appreciated my time there with my teacher, Kara Kirkendoll Welch (flutist in the Dallas Symphony) and also the opportunity I had to take lessons with Debbie Baron (piccoloist for the Dallas Symphony). Because of them both, my flute tone quality and versatility have improved dramatically.

Next semester, I will begin my Doctor of Musical Arts studies at the University of North Texas, studying with Professor Terri Sundberg, and work towards earning my doctorate and applying for university/college teaching jobs. I am also looking forward to all my future performances with my husband and teacher, Gabriel.

We are so very proud of Terri and wish to congratulate her on such a great accomplishment of getting her Masters degree from SMU. She has shown commitment, perseverance, dedication, and the ability to overcome tremendous odds that sometimes threatened to derail her.

So, is she a flautist? Is she a flutist? What she is, is a fabulous flute player and a wonderful granddaughter. Congratulations, Terri. We love you! Grams and Papaw

First Day in Pool

Friday I was off work and we thought we'd spend the day cleaning around the pool and planting and getting everything ready for enjoying the outside. But a big storm blew through about 6 am and we lost power for about 4 hours. Bummer. Plans changed. We dressed by flashlight and candlelight and headed out to get some breakfast. Decided to get our shopping done after we discovered not everyone had lost power. We got a lot done, but nothing of our plans done.

Today, Saturday, started out in the low 40's. Not exactly motivational for working outdoors. We hit the garden places early and bought our plants and soil. Didn't have to fight the crowds; no one was out shopping for garden stuff.

Anyway, got everything done. Looks pretty good.






Lots of hard work. Finished product is nothing spectacular, but it's clean and done. Looks pretty simple. Got lots of red begonias and red geraniums. Think as things grow and get bigger, the color will be nice.

Well, when you work hard and you're finished, you have to take a dip in the pool. The only problem was the air temperature was in the mid 60's and the water temperature was in the mid 70's. Brrr... But we couldn't resist. I jumped in and swam to the other end. My rough and masculine he-man husband wimped out and said he couldn't do it and jumped back out. He was laughed at and called Sissy a few times by his ever-lovin' (that's me). He eventually did brave the cold and waded in protesting loudly how cold it was. Too fun.

Summer is here! The pool is open and clean and heating. The plants and flowers are planted. Everything is all set. Now if the Oklahoma wind, storms, and tornados will bypass our town and house, we'll be all set. Fat chance, huh?

The great adventures we call life. Life is good.
MB

On Losing a Friend

Friday morning we received a call from Fort Worth that a good friend and a member of Paul's ministry board was in the hospital and not doing well.

We were on the road within the hour and got there three hours later.

Our friend Billy was on a ventilator and in a coma. Apparently he had a massive stroke or aneurysm the night before about 9 pm and had been taken immediately to the hospital.

Thursday, the day before, he had had a busy day with a luncheon at noon and then a meeting that evening. He was enjoying a little bowl of ice cream with Jere, his wife, when his hand and then his leg didn't work right. That was when Jere called 911. Billy's last words were, "I love you, Jere." Billy changed clothes, exchanging his earth suit for his heaven suit Friday about 5 pm.

The Burlesons go way back with the Hardies. Billy and Jere married in the late 70's, the second marriage for both. They were planning their honeymoon to Hawaii. At the same time the church, where we were all members and Paul was the pastor, gave us a trip to Hawaii. We all went together, the Burlesons for their first visit to Hawaii and the Hardies on their honeymoon.

We still reminisce and laugh about all the fun things we did and all the laughs we had like, a scantily clad woman crossed in front of our car and Billy said to Paul, "Didn't she have pretty eyes?" Another fun memory was a common saying on the island of Maui, "I survived the road to Hana." Jere wasn't so sure she survived with Paul's driving and all the one-lane curves. Scary!

Other memories include going on ski trips to Colorado together. The Hardies didn't ski but they went for the fun and fellowship. One fun memory is the "ski pie." It was a wonderful butterscotch type pie that we made and always had on this trip. All of us left to do something and Paul stayed at the cabin to "study." Mysteriously the rest of that ski pie just vanished. Hmmm...Paul swore he had no clue. We still laugh at that one.

Such very fun memories that will live on even though the person of Billy is gone from us.

Billy and Jere are members of Paul's ministry board, which meets annually. We got to see them and catch up and visit at least periodically at those meetings. Then every time we were in Fort Worth speaking or visiting we arranged to have lunch with the Hardies.

We will miss those very fun times with Billy, but we will never forget him. He is a part of us in our memories and in our ministry and we look forward to joining him soon.


Mourning the loss of a wonderful man,
MB

Party Fun

This is a collage of pictures of Paul and me dressed for the fifties party.

I was determined to have a ponytail, which I really had in high school. However, my current hairstyle is not long enough to create a good ponytail. So...I found a fake ponytail, which was the color of my hair. The fastener was a pretty big toothed clasp. I ended up taking the fastener out and tried it that way. Too much hair. I then cut it in two horizontally. Perfect. Not too heavy and pretty sure it would stay in. I was pleased with the finished product.

Then I found a chain and a ring that looked somewhat like a class ring and wore that as a necklace to show I was "going steady." And of course a little scarf tied in a knot around my neck and flipped to the side.

My younger brother's letter jacket completed the picture.

As we drove up, I got nervous. Some in our class are well-to-do and I was sure they would be very well out-fitted and not be quite as home-made as I was. (I had on self-made saddle oxfords of black duct tape and white tennis shoes.)

Anyway, the party turned out to be quite fun. I took a package of bubble gum and shared it with all who wanted some. I love chewing and blowing bubbles, which I did all evening.

Paul went as either James Dean or Marlon Brando, a good-looking cross between.

Toward the end of the party, they named four couples to come up on the stage and let the audience with applause decide which one was the best-dressed for the fifties. We won! I was shocked. I think it was Paul's leather hat. He looked so handsome. He says it was my bobbing ponytail. Whatever. ?? Another thought is funny. Everyone was fascinated with my shoes. They were bringing their friends by to see them. Is that funny or what?

One woman said to me as I was passing out the bubblegum, "We've decided you're too young to be in this group." I told her she gets two pieces. LOL Actually, I'm about in the median age of our group. Someone said that lady needed glasses. I agree.

Regardless.

I found out later that I could order real saddle oxfords from Payless and I've done that. They are on order and I should get them soon, and they were fairly cheap. I'll be ready for the next party.

We had a great time. I love the fifties music. We played Name That Tune and Artist and Name That Car (make and model). I failed both, but we played by tables and we had some good fifties-knowledgeables at our table. However, we didn't win, but we made a good showing.

Too fun.
MB

Homemade Saddle Oxfords

This Friday we're going to a Fifties party. I've been working on my outfit. I needed some shoes, some saddle oxfords, like we used to wear. BUT, I didn't want to pay big bucks to buy some. (I know, I know. I could probably have found some on E-bay. Just didn't want to go there.) So I did the next best thing.

I bought a pair of cheap white tennis shoes and some black duct tape, and Voilá! Saddle Oxfords to wear.

Don't look too closely. Hopefully my feet will be moving anytime someone glances at my feet and they'll think they're real.

Too fun!
MB

Remembering My Friend, Pat

Friday, January 29, 2010, my friend Pat Walker traded her earth-suit for her heaven-suit.

I first met Pat and Hershel Walker when Paul accepted the pastorate at Fairway Baptist in Wichita Falls in 1968. They immediately became close friends and we ate a lot of meals at their house. We also enjoyed water skiing with them and staying in their lake cabin.

Not long after we moved to Wichita Falls, Pat had cancer surgery. While waiting together, Paul and Hershel discovered they had a common relative, Aunt Janie in Burkburnett. Isn't that amazing? And again shows what a small world it is. After that, we all claimed that we were relatives.

In 1969 when the first man walked on the moon, we were at Pat and Hershel's, watching it on their TV.

When our fourth child, Brett, was born in 1971, Pat and Hershel were keeping the older three children and they were the first ones we called to tell of Brett's birth.

Pat was very pretty and always kept herself looking great. She could fix hair wonderfully. While I was the pastor's wife and the piano player at Fairway, I would go out to Pat's house on Saturday and she would fix my hair. This was back when we had those beehive hairdos. Pat would fix my hair and she would work in a hairpiece that was so attractive. I felt very good sitting in front of the congregation with my Pat-hairdo. She was so gracious to do that.

Hershel and Pat were also very generous with their possessions. They had a cabin on Lake Arrowhead. For years, we had a week-long camp at their cabin for our women friends. We still talk and laugh about those times together and the funny things that happened. They also let our family use their cabin and boat any time we wanted to. Very generous.

In recent days and years, Pat began to have medical problems. Through it all she kept a good attitude. Near the end when Pat went to Hospice, her long list of friends took turns staying with her. It was a real testimony to Pat's life that she had so many friends who wanted to help.

I will miss Pat Walker! She is and was an important part of our lives over the years.
Now, I will just look forward to being with her again.
MB

Remembering

Virginia Pearl Salyer Cherry

This is a picture of my Mom around the time of her marriage to my Dad. Today is the day, seventy-three years ago, that they married in TX. One of the gifts I have received over the years from my Mom is a book entitled Grandmother Remembers. She actually completed one of these books for each of her children so they could share with their children, her grandchildren. In this book is a page where she answers questions about her wedding. I scanned it and am posting it here. Hope you can read it. If you can't and want to, perhaps you can click on the image and it enlarges on your screen. Pretty interesting, I think.



I sent Mom a card celebrating today and she called and said she had actually forgotten that Jan 27 is the day she got married.

I think it's good to remember, and since I'm remembering, I thought I would share.
MB

Happy New Year 2010

January 1 of any year is always a good day for me. It seems to be a day of new beginnings and new hope.

Naturally, I reminisce of things that have happened in the past year.

This last year I've had some great events in my life:
• The birth of the first twins in our family, our great grandsons
• Celebrated our 50th anniversary on May 28
• Paul had two successful surgeries, knee and hand
• A few personal change-points, new understanding and acceptance
• My job lasted through the year
• My Mom celebrated her 92nd birthday

There were also some sad events this last year:
• My friend and able assistant died in Feb at age 44
• Employees I supervised went from 16 to 2, lay-offs
• Death claimed several friends, a board member, and relatives

When making lists of good and bad events, I always like to have more good than bad, so I'll quit listing now.

I'm looking forward to the year 2010. I'm full of hope and excitement at the possibilities ahead. I'm reminded of the verse, "His mercies are new every morning."

I realize bad things and bad events will probably happen and be very sad and disappointing. I do have the confidence that my God, who supplies all my needs, loves me and will as He promised in Hebrews never leave me or forsake me.

What more could a human being ask for or want?

Happy New Year to you and yours.
May it be all you hope for and desire.
MB

My Mom at 92

November 30, 1917, was the date of my Mom's birth. Yesterday she turned 92. Doesn't she look great? Amazing!
She still goes to art class every Thursday and spends the day at Hobby Lobby getting art lessons and painting. She attends church almost every Sunday, and is active in the Single Sisters group in her church.


Eleven of us gathered at Charleston's in Edmond to celebrate with Mom. Four siblings and mates couldn't make it, but we still had a good crowd. (Benefits of having a large family...)


Mother ordered coffee (now this is black coffee at 5 pm in the afternoon. Doesn't seem to keep her awake at night. Amazing!) She also ordered the grilled pork chops and had beans and slaw as sides. I'm her daughter and eating that and drinking coffee would give me a terrible stomach ache. She must have a stomach of steel.


This is what Paul and I ordered for the three of us to share, bread pudding. Actually, almost everyone at the table, twelve of us, had at least a bite. Some commented that didn't look like any bread pudding we'd ever seen. It was very good.

After we ordered and while we waited for our food, we sang Happy Birthday and presented Mom with her gifts. I got her a very nice OU shirt. She's complimented mine every time I wear it. She said she would wear it every Thursday to art class. Freddie got her a radio for the kitchen window. The clock is an atomic clock so it will always tell the right time. She's been hinting. Several of the others gave Mom 12 checks or bills of $10 each. This is tradition. That pays for her art classes for the entire year. Mom took her time and read every card (when she stumbled, I helped) and enjoyed every one.

Some of Rachel's family came and brought the cute one-year-old boys. They and their parents added the much needed youth factor to our gathering.

The whole evening, which ended early, was just exceptional. We have a great family who loves to honor their matriarch. Each year we are so grateful that we've had another year with our Mom. Hopefully we'll have many more.
Mary B.

Thanksgiving 2009

Every year at Thanksgiving my family of origin gets together. I am one of eleven children and most of us married and had families of our own. One sibling has died, but there are ten of us left, and my Mom will be 92 on Monday, November 30. Here we are posing for a picture with Mom. You wouldn't believe how many pictures and how much trouble we went to so we could have one good picture. Fun and challenging.

It's always quite a gathering. This year we had about 125, that's as close a count as we could get with everyone moving around and without having a sign-in list, but it's a pretty close count.

Mother starts the celebration by saying a few words and telling all the additions we've had since last Thanksgiving, births and weddings. That talk sometimes gets pretty long, and then of course someone is always forgotten. It just can't be helped with such a large family. Mother played a guessing game having everyone guess how many are now in the family. Total is 176. That's just Mother, her children and their mates, their children and mates, and their children. Mother now has great-greats.

We had a good time, way too much food, and fun just catching up with those we hadn't seen since last year. There's a lot of physical activity going on in the gym: roller skating, dodge ball, and basketball. You put your well being in jeopardy when you traversed the gym floor to go to the restroom.

We had a special treat this year of Paul and Margaret Purifoy coming at Mother's invitation. Paul brought his guitar and sang three or four fun songs including "I Am My Own Grandpa" and "The Mississippi Squirrel." Not sure the younger generations caught it all, but we older ones had a good laugh. That was very special, the Purifoys making us a part of their Thanksgiving Day.

We end up with supper of leftovers including sandwiches and chips and hot cheese dip. Clean-up is not so bad when everyone helps. Great day. Great family. Great food. Wonderful things to enjoy and be thankful for.
MB

That's Us

My handsome feller has found a new talent. He's expressing himself through poetry. He's always had a way with words. I'm not surprised, but I am thrilled that he's cultivating this talent.

The other day we were reminiscing about the different phases we've come through in our relationship. He was thoughtful. Soon he shared this poem with me.



He's got a talent, doesn't he?

This is a very special, thoughtful writing. Because I lived through these times with him, this has much meaning for me.
I love that man!
MB