Grandma's Birthday and... part one of her autobiography

My Steel Magnolias holding hands.

So... about three weeks ago my sister-in-law, Angie called and asked if I had thought about what to do for Grandma's birthday. I had not. Angie suggested I make a photo book. I'm made many throughout the years and like the blog, the words just sort of come to me when I put my mind to it. I thought, "why not?". I certainly don't have much keeping me busy these days and I knew we had enough old photos to put together a decent biography.

The thing is, once I started putting my own words to someone else's history, it just have the right sound to it. My Grandmother is a prolific writer (I come by it honestly) and in the items that we moved from her house to ours, is an extensive archive, if you will, of her life. She had painstakingly handwritten volumes of pages on family history and her own personal experiences. I knew that I needed to write her story using her words.

After that, it was just a matter of getting a new scanner, searching through a couple dozen photo albums and putting all those little essays of hers in chronological order. It wasn't easy. I've tried to calculate the hours involved and I will just say that if I was earning a salary for the task, that week I would have earned overtime pay. However, some time not long after I sent the book off to be printed, she asked my dad if there was a way to make a book of family history. It turned out that what Angie had suggested and I had compiled was, without our knowing it, exactly what she wanted.

I didn't want to share any of the book before we gave it to her because I didn't want word to get back to her and ruin the surprise. I've tried to share the finished product via facebook and unfortunately it is impossible to read. The old photos are fabulous. You've seen them all. But the words are the true history and I'd like to share those with you. It make take a few days to put it out all out here. If you're interested, I'd love for you to read it. Since you've seen the old photos already I'm going to use the photos from today with the words from the book.

We celebrated her 90th birthday today. It was everything it should have been,  down to her spontaneous rendition of "Sweet, Sweet Spirit" that she struggled through tears to voice and so, of course, we joined in. The food was wonderful, the company even better. My photos are not great because it was hard to navigate the room but my skinny little nieces helped out by slipping into tight spaces and taking pictures for me when I couldn't.

Here's Leta, in her own words.

Leta Mae Ward was born November 6, 1923 to Sarah Jane Bullock Baldwin Ward and Dr. Charles Pelham Ward. Their home was 1208 North Avenue in Northeast Atlanta. When Leta was six weeks old they moved to 1001 Oakdale Road.

In a remembrance written for Druid Hills Presbyterian Church Leta writes, "Our father, Dr. Charles Pelham Ward, was a physician. He grew up in Lincolnton, Georgia. His parents, my grandparents William Cleveland Ward and Bertha Rosa Hawes Ward who had eleven children, evidently couldn't afford to send him to college. Daddy worked and attended college at Emory at Oxford, Georgia using borrowed books. He became a successful surgeon and physician. He had offices in the Flatiron Building in Atlanta and was on the staff of Crawford Long Hospital.

 Marquee and Cody

Sarah Jane Bullock descends from the Bullock family of Buena Vista, Georgia.  Her ancestor, Hardeman Bullock settled there after immigrating from England. Cordy Bullock was Hardie's son. He was a merchant, farmer and stockdealer. Cordy, who was married to Jane Richardson Combs was killed in his own store by carpetbaggers. Cordy and Jane were the parents of George W., James E., and Osborne Cordy Bullock. Leta's grandfather was George Washington Bullock. Estell Mae Maddox became his wife. George was a farmer, postal worker and politician. George and Estell had six children, five lived to adulthood: Eva Mae, Sarah, Lillian, William David and Kate Lou.

Sarah was a school teacher in Americus, Georgia and surrounding areas. She married R. P. Baldwin, Editor of the Columbus newspaper. Mr. Baldwin died of Brites disease after sixteen months of marriage. 

 Dr. Ward's first wife, Leta Dallas Ward, died during childbirth, leaving behind two children: Charles Parmalee and Cynthia.  Sarah met Dr. Ward through a patient of his, Lola Honiker. In the above picture Sarah is on the far left with her mother, Estell, behind her. Lola is on the far right surround by her mother, father and child. 

Pelham and Sarah were married on November 6, 1917 in Atlanta, Georgia.

A letter dated November 6, 1942 written by Cynthia to her step-mother, Sarah, gives a few details from the wedding of Leta's parents. It says, in part, "This day,  twenty-odd years ago, was a memorable one for four people. Of brother's and my preparation I can remember nothing but I am sure we must have dressed excitedly and been admonished to sit still and remain clean. The remembrance of the ride in the taxi is very vivid - Brother sat in front with the driver. Daddy wore bright yellow gloves,  you had on a lovely dove-grey suit. It was late afternoon and we drove to a little house on King's Highway in Decatur. Somehow the actual ceremony has faded from memory but the reception which followed remains bright - it was our first introduction to green olives - remember? ... And 19 years ago, Leta's birth. I remember the day and remember wanting to name her. "

The Ward family continued to expand and soon Cynthia and Charles were joined by three little sisters: Jane, Leta and Bette. Leta describes their home at 1001 Oakdale Road in Atlanta, "it was a beautiful, big house made of white clapboard, with green shutters and a rust tile roof. There was a screened in porch on one side of the house. The house was located on about an acre of land in the Druid Hills section of Atlanta.

In a letter to a cousin written in January 1988 Leta says, "Brother attended Emory School of Medicine. He helped Daddy with the chores out of doors. So did Sis. She loved to milk the cow and would sing a tune as she pulled on the cow's udder. Daddy provided well for his family although he was never a well person. He suffered appendicitis peritonitis as a young man. This hampered his digestive tract so that he could only eat certain foods, especially oatmeal - now you know why we served oatmeal every day for breakfast! It is my understanding he was a successful surgeon but in a freak accident - pulling a nail out of  a board - he lost an eye."

She continues, "Daddy had offices in the Flat Iron Building. He specialized in family practice, as they would call it today. He made many house calls and mother stayed at the house, ready to accept phone calls and suggesting little remedies to give relief until Daddy could see the patient or call. The Depression affected our lives considerably. His patients - some of them - could not afford to pay their bills. Daddy also suffered physically from an automobile accident. In addition, he had a slight heart problem. He finally had to give up his practice. 


Mother was the benefactor of several farms in Alabama that R. P. Baldwin, her first husband had left her. Mother used proceeds from these rental properties to aid Brother in completing his education at Emory and assisting with family members."

The home at 1001 Oakdale Rd was a gathering place for relatives before any of them moved to Atlanta. Leta tells us that "Mother and Daddy were good Christian people. They ministered to so many through the years, inside and outside the family. They brought us up in a loving and caring family. They lived their Christianity in service to others." She also says, "There was always someone coming or going at our house on Oakdale. At one time Grandmother Dallas, Cynthia and Charles' grandmother lived with us. She had the apartment on the main floor." 

Cordy Bullock was married to Jane Richardson Combs. They were the parents of George W, James, and Osborne Cordy Bullock. 

Grandma with her three children

George and Estell Bullock had six children: five lived to full age: Eva Mae, Sarah Jane, Lillian, William David and Kate Lou.  Grandfather died rather young. His brother Jimmy, died during a war. Uncle Osborne Cordy became a millionaire through business ventures - President of the Farmers & Merchants Bank at Columbus, Georgia. He also operated a hardware stores. Uncle Oz, as he was called, handled Grandmother Estell Bullock's business affairs after Grandfather George Bullock died. 

During my childhood I vaguely remember Grandmother Estelle Mae Maddox Bullock. I can, however, see a tiny woman in a black dress. She must have been in her eighties. She was visiting our family on Oakdale Road. Shortly thereafter she died - must have been around 1930.

As a family we visited Buena Vista where Uncle David and Aunt Relia resided with their children: David Jr., George, O.C., Barbara and Frank. We had many fun times visiting Aunt Relia and Uncle David. Barbara, Bette and I helped Aunt Relia shell peas one Summer. For a reward she made each of us a pretty dress with a white collar. Mine was blue, Bette and Barbara's pink. 

There were the days we visited Juniper, Georgia. Aunt Mae and Uncle Will Posey lived there, where Uncle Will had a casket factory. Later on he worked for the Post Office. 

Myra, George, Leon and Virginia are Aunt Mae and Uncle Will's children. Cynthia and Charles loved to go to Juniper (they were near the ages of these children). I only remember the big house and yard, the lake, the bridge over the lake. 

Aunt Relia and Uncle David moved to Atlanta in the 30's. Uncle David and a Mr. Fuller opened a fried pork skins business. This became a very profitable operation. Unfortunately, David Jr lost his life in a plane crash at a young age. George joined the Army. He was killed while on R & R - plane crashed into the side of a mountain somehwere in Italy. O.C. joined the Army during World War II. Barbara went off to Virginia Intermont College. Frank was still in school. After O.C.'s tour of duty he married Vivian Calloway. They have two daughters, Cordy and Karen. 

Barbara married John Harris, a Georgia Tech graduate. They have one son, John III and two daughters, Susan and Kathi.

Frank, Aunt Relia and Uncle David's youngest son was very active in the family business. He and his wife Rita, have two daughters Jan and Pam. 

Grandma with my brother Jim and his family

Aunt Mae and Uncle Will moved to Atlanta in the 30's. Aunt Lillian and Uncle Oscar Garner lived in the Stone Mountain, Georgia area where Uncle Oscar's family lived. Uncle Oscar was a WWI survivor. Aunt Lillian and Uncle Oscar have two sons, Charles and Robert. The family eventually settled in East Atlanta on Portland Avenue. Uncle Oscar worked with his sister Rena's husband who had a large lumber yard, Williams Brothers. Charles Garner was killed in a plane crash when he and his wife, Betty's only son was five months old. It was a very sad time for all of us. The Lord, however, sustains us in our trials of life. Somehow He gives us strength through the love and comfort of family and friends and behold, we can now face the future with hope. Robert Garner married Grace early in life. They have 2 children, Robert Jr and Carole Ann. They live in Birmingham, Alabama.

Aunt Kate, mother's youngest sister, lived with Uncle Edd Hendrix, her husband, in the Grant Park area. Uncle Edd had a Barber Shop and also dabbled in Real Estate. They have two sons, Edd Jr and Harry Bird.  She died of breast cancer at age 39. Edd Hendrix Jr served in WWII. I can remember his homecoming - and how Bette, Mary Rogers, Edd, myself and others went horseback riding. Edd married Elaine, they have two children, Cathy and Eddie. Harry Bird Hendrix married young. He and Flora have 3 children: Debra, Doug and Beth.  Uncle Edd was always attentive to Mother and her sisters and interested in Uncle David's welfare. He was especially kind to me while I was experience a divorce and trying times - he came to the house on Alder Court one day with a big bag of oranges!

Aunt Mae loved to eat, as most of we Bullocks do. When she prepared a meal it was a delicious spread, with all those homemade preserves and relishes. We learned many lessons in family life from Aunt Mae after she came to live with us. Mother was working, Daddy deceased. She saw that meals were prepared and chores done.  Aunt Mae wanted the children to display good manners, especially at the dinner table. 

Uncle David - Mother's only living brother, was a successful businessman. How we admired  Uncle David! After he and Aunt Relia moved to Atlanta we saw them more. Bette, Barbara and I spent many happy times together, playing and going places with one another in the Little Five Points vicinity. 

Kate Green Hall, Mother's cousin moved to our home on Oakdale shortly after her husband, W. H. Hall had died. Cousin Kate was a businesswoman in Columbus with her own millinery shop. She and Mr. Hall ran a boarding house on Piedmont Avenue, beautiful old home with a large front porch. Usually she served us homemade ice cream. 

Kathryn Holmes, Mother's cousin... closely associated with Cousin Kate Hall, spent time at our house, visiting as a young woman, then living several months with us after suffering a stroke. When I was working in Arlington, Virginia as a Government employee, she showed me the Washington D. C. attractions. She was employed by the Navy Department. I believe her grandmother and our grandmother were sister-in-laws. 

The Depression affected so many people... our father, for one. He had invested in Real Estate . Then he was involved in an automobile accident  and left in poor health. After  making a trip to Florida hoping to improve his health, he came home, developed a cerebral hemorrhage and died July 30, 1939.

Through the years Mother and Daddy took in boarders. Carrol and Tillie Brown, their daughter Carolyn, Stella and Charles Rhodes. Then Myra, our dear cousin and her husband Paul Brooks Bosworth. George Britt chauffered Daddy since he had only one eye and hleped with all the chores at the house. There was Lillie Mae from Eastman, Georgia who cooked for us. 

Our brother, Charles, was at Emory School of Medicine. Sister Cythia attended G.S.C.W. in Milledgeville, then took a job at Grady Hospital as a Laboratory Technician. Brother married Frances Lucretia West. He joined the U. S. Army serving in the Medical Corp. This took them many places, foreign and all over teh USA. Frances and Charles have three children: Charles Parmalee Ward Jr, Nancy Lucretia and John Paul. 

Leta with her three granddaughters, Michelle, me and Mandie

Eventually all the boarders and Myra and Paul moved out. Jane spent a year with brother and Frances in Hawaii. She learned to hula and was in demand for awhile while being employed by Singer Machine Company. Naturally Bette and I wanted to hula, too. Brother and Frances sent us grass skirts!

Jane married Lewis Matthew Hall. He joined the U.S. Navy. Jane and Lewis had five children: Jane Ayers, Cynthia Ann, Mary Elizabeth, Ward Matthew and Sarah Catherine (Cathy) who died at 16 from cystic fibrosis. 

During World War II Mary Rogers came from Elberton to work at C & S Bank. Bette takes a job at C & S. I worked at Atlantic Comission Company - Lewis Hall helped me get the job. Oh, the fun we had going to the USO, dancing with the servicemen as well as visiting the servicemen at Lawson General Hospital.

- Excerpts from The Bullock Family of Buena Vista, Georgia and a Glimpse Into The Life of the Charles P. Ward Family by Leta Ward Gant Harris

(to be continued!)

Punkin' Chunkin', Barbie Beach and Cat Poop

I woke up at 3:37 this morning and haven't been back to sleep therefore I'm a bit foggy and a lot slap happy. This may explain why I was delighted to take thirty-eleven pictures of my kid destroying the pumpkin that never got carved. I did my part - I paid the $4.48 at Walmart for it. He wanted to carve it and never got around to it. So when he asked if he could toss it off the deck it seemed like a decent return for my investment. I agreed that he could drop it off the deck if he agreed to pick up all the pieces. And let me take pictures because blog material is kinda scarce on days like today. It really was funny.

pumpkin on it's descent

In other news... we relocated all cat related items to the Whine Cellar aka "the kitty cats' house"... so now they are taking their meals on my kitchen table which is not used for eating since we don't actually have a kitchen here. Yet. Once Uncle Sam takes pity on me and I get paid my chunka-disability going back to the last time I was able to work full-time (thinking positive here) then I'll be able to put my little kitchenette in down here. A former spouse once claimed that I could live in a hotel room and be perfectly happy as long as I had a coffee pot, a mini-fridge and a microwave. Since I've kicked the caffeine habit, I only need a mini-fridge and a microwave and I'll be set. I mean, ideally I'd like to have a counter and a sink but I could make do. 

Anyways... one of the cats (Eddie) kept leaving a little deposit beside the litter box on the top floor so my mom moved that litter box to be right beside the other litter box in what will one day be my kitchen. I'd really prefer all litter boxes be on the top floor, which is essentially not being used other than for my dressing room. I figure, why be any closer to poop than you have to? But mom thinks that this will stop the unauthorized dumping so ... we'll see. I love cats but don't enjoy co-existing with the litter. If I ever have another cat he will be potty trained. If I can teach Austin to go, I can teach anyone. Anything. Oh, whatever. The boxes are cleaned out almost every day so they don't REALLY smell that bad unless one of the older cats (Stubby, Eddie) have just gone. Why am I talking about poop?

Back to the kitchen... as it stands now, every morning I gather my "must haves" and make a pilgrimage to the living room upstairs for the day of tv watching and dog cuddling and dog watering and dog potty breaks and watching Mawmaw nap. I go to the top floor where my clothes and toiletries are stored and design a costume for the day (today I'm playing the role of a color blind homeless woman) and then settle into Pop's recliner until I can no longer handle being sociable. Then I gather my things and head downstairs. Sometimes to my little living room and sometimes straight to the big cozy bed.... where the cats are usually waiting for me. Once my big old - too big to fit in anything other than a UHaul - television is finally brought up here and we have satellite on it, I will be spending more time in the Whine Cellar and less time upstairs. And when I no longer need to go upstairs to obtain a chilled beverage, I will be as close to a hermit as I can possibly be. Ultimately, the truth is that being sociable takes a lot out of me. I'm in a lot more pain than I verbally say (although I say it here quite a bit, don't I?) because it's simply redundant (as you can tell by how often I mention it here) and when you're in pain your filters don't work well and you don't always respond in the way that you would if you weren't distracted and already literally at your wit's end. The Whine Cellar is a good place to... well, whine.

In other news... this Barbie Beach thing kept popping up in my Facebook feed. It's in Turin, which is a little town south of Atlanta where my cousin Christie lives. (There's always a cousin connection with me, isn't there?) For those of you who are Walking Dead fans, it's near Senoia which is where TWD is filmed. The story goes something like this:  7 years ago there was a driveway leading to the owner's house. No longer wanting a direct drive they built an old fashioned wooden gate. They planted wild roses, not knowing they posed a threat to the utility lines. The roses were "agent oranged" and an ugly bare spot was left behind. The USA women's beach volleyball team won the gold medal at the Turin Olympics in 2006 (not the same Turin, just in case that isn't clear). To honor them they brought in sand, made a volleyball net and bought six Barbies who were naked at the time. A printout of the Olympic rings laminated and Turin 2006 on an old tshirt was put out there and Barbie Beach was born.    There's a Barbie Beach Facebook page if you'd like to see more photos. It's one of those bizarre things that can only happen in the rural South where we don't hide our crazy people - we put them out on the front porch for the whole world to see.

I noticed the other day while I was holding Little Kitty in the window - there's a game we play where I hold him up on my shoulder like I'm burping a baby and he looks out the window and I name all the things we can see out the window like birds and squirrels and so forth - trust me, he enjoys it - anyways - we were looking out the window and I noticed a swarm of ladybugs outside. Later that day while I was walking the dishwasher repairman out, I noticed that ladybugs were clumped all over the screened porch. We discussed how odd it was but I hadn't thought anything else of it. Well, as it turns out, if ladybugs are trying to get indoors it's a sign of a cold Winter ahead. I'm dying for one or two good snows here. I know you're sick of Autumn lake pictures and I would love to get a few Wintry weather photos. Maybe, just maybe, the weather will be favorable. It was warm enough last night that I left my bedroom window open but it already seems too cool tonight for that. Cold damp weather really stinks with arthritis but heck, it's not like I'm exactly dancing a jig otherwise. I might as well get a change of scenery.

cool reflection in the sliding glass door

I am officially out of things to share so that will have to be it for today. Happy weekend, y'all. 

Some Fall Photos and Halloween Stuff

Happy Halloween! No trick-or-treaters here at Cedar Hollow as our driveway is steep and dark and there are no kids that live back this way. I'm down in the Whine Cellar looking at all the Facebook postings of my friends kids and grandkids in their cutie-patootie costumes. Here's a picture of my nieces that my sister-in-law just posted:

Sarabeth is a purple crayon (which Jamie clarified to "wisteria crayon, that's what it says on it." because Jamie is a Gant and we must always be as literal as possible) and Jamie is a gypsy. She wanted to be Esmerelda (from The Hunchback of Notre Dame) but it being an older Disney release, there weren't any Esmerelda costumes out their so she amended it to gypsy. Of course, Aunt Heather had to go into a long story about the Roma people and how hard their lives are and how I had seen an article about the poverty and illiteracy among them. Because, you know, just being a plain old gypsy wouldn't be enough. She has to really understand her role. Sarabeth just likes purple. Notice how long her hair is? We took another vow the other day not to cut our hair. I don't know how much longer I'll make it because mine is so dry. I don't mind the little bit of gray but I hate the texture. Hers of course is gorgeous.

Anyways... Halloween... what great memories... when the kids were little we lived in a mega-subdivision that had so much trick-or-treat traffic that you just camped out on the porch and hoped you didn't run out of candy. It was a constant stream. When I was selling Avon (yes, I used to sell Avon and I actually made a little money at it) I would hand all the moms an Avon book and some samples and I got a good bit of business that way. I heard someone on tv talking about a neighborhood where they hand out candy to the kids and fill the parents wine glasses as they walk along. Sounds congenial and neighborly and all that but I'm not sure as a mom it would be a good idea for me to be in charge of excited young children who are hyped up on sugar if I'm a bit woozy.

With three kids we went through a lot of Halloween costumes over the years but honestly, I can't remember most of them. What I remember is the stress of trying to afford all the things the kids wanted and always being that loser who was at Party City the day before Halloween trying to find something that my kids and my budget both agreed on. Probably the most memorable costume was the year that Ryan went as the Unabomber. He was nine. Always on top of the news, that one. It was a simple costume - a hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses.

We've had three family members over the years that got attached to a particular costume and wore it all the time - not just at Halloween. First was my brother Michael who WAS the Lone Ranger, complete with mask and cowboy boots. (That's not embarrassing for an adolescent - going out in public with a little Lone Ranger clone).

My brother Bryan wore a cat costume for what seemed like years. He had the whole meowing and eating on the floor with the cats thing. Although now we have the cats' food on the dining room table - because we don't eat there and it keeps the dogs from eating their food. Being a cat would be much easier on him now.

Austin was attached to his grim reaper robe which was a little creepy in and of itself - but then the son of a good friend of ours was tragically killed in a game of Russian Roulette. We left Austin at my mom's while we went to the funeral which was, as you can imagine, a very emotional and sad situation. Then we pull in mom's driveway to pick Austin up and he runs out the door in the grim reaper costume and - we just lost it! The irony was too ridiculous for anything but laughter. And as we all know, "laughter through tears is my favorite emotion." - Steel Magnolias.

I made a trip into town this morning not really because we needed anything but more because I needed to get out for a bit. The leaves are finally becoming colorful and I took a lot of pictures as I drove. They aren't great quality because the only way to make them not blurry is to take the picture from straight ahead, looking through the windshield and my windshield is pretty dirty. Still... what I lack in content I make up for in pictures so here goes - hope you enjoy! Have a great Halloween, y'all!

 the horse at the end of our road.

 These colors are starting to come out more just over the past two days. I've got to get back out and about tomorrow to enjoy a little more "color" before the weekend. This will probably be a big tourist weekend.

 The road is loooong...

You can't really see a lot of color on the mountain yet... still to come, I hope. Some years we have really vivid colors and sometimes not so much. It seems like I remember that the color is brighter in years of drought for some reason. This was the wettest year in my lifetime so I guess it's possible that we won't have a true "peak" of color.

 The pumpkin patch at the Catholic Church. I know I've shared this already but I still think it's one of the best fall scenes around here.

 

 The old truck with the sort of muted color of the tree made this feel like an older picture to me.

My doctors office with the mountain in the background. If you get put in one of the patient rooms in the back of the building, you get to look out at this while you wait. Honestly, it doesn't make the wait any better.

 Our old drive to our old apartment. That place was a bit rundown and I certainly went through a lot physically while we lived there but it was always a pretty view and so very quiet. Not as quiet as it is here on the lake but quiet.

 In this little stretch of road there is one tree that is always the most colorful of them all. One day when we were driving I said to Austin, "look at that tree"... because to me it was so obvious which one stood out among the forest. Austin, because he has a double dose of literal-ness (not a word) being both a Gant and having that whole autism thing going for him was flabbergasted that I would expect him to know which tree I was talking about and still, to this day, many years later, will frequently make the comment as we drive by this spot, "look at that tree". It's our thing.

Last but not least... the view as I headed down the driveway this morning. Never grows old.

Cats + String = Good Times!

Take a piece of string... wrap a screw in a piece of plastic and tie it to the end of the string. Add a teenage boy and two cats and you've got entertainment for days! Or at least until the plastic gets shredded and the screw hits the sliding glass door. Don't worry, the glass didn't break.

Trouble is still a very frisky kitty and loves chasing things. He is so hilarious when he gets on his hind legs and jumps for things.

Even Stubby couldn't resist after watching the fun for a little while. They worked together to gain control. 

It was the most fun we've had in days!

I made a quick trip to Leaf Grocery (it's a little gas station that also sells food, it's the closest store to us) and noticed that we're really starting to see some fall color. The trees around the lake are really starting to get colorful and the reflection off the lake is beautiful.

I stepped outside with Oscar this afternoon and let him crunch around in the leaves. He much prefers the backyard to the front yard poop pen.

Mom made applesauce bread this morning and it was soooo good! Yesterday she made peanut butter cookies. I still haven't tried my hand at making a pound cake but I will, some day. This is the kind of weather that lends itself to baking.

The pain of the day today is joint pain. Less of the hernia/whateveritis pain and more of the joint aches and pains. Not bad enough to need the "hard stuff". That's a good day.

Last month I ordered some leggings from zulily. I don't subscribe to the "one size fits all" notion and I don't believe all body types should go out in public in leggings. One of the cashiers at Walmart yesterday had on leggings with her Walmart smock. She was a good sized woman and the leggings were tight enough that you saw every jiggle. I was surprised that it passed dress code.  I ordered leggings in my actual size because yes, they do make them. My leggings came today and they are the softest material my legs have ever felt. It was like every nerve in my legs was singing the Hallelujah Chorus. I promise, fair citizens of White County, not to assault your eyes by venturing out in public in these comfy things but if you stop by Cedar Hollow, all bets are off. Of course, by the time you pass Serendipity (the nudist resort around the corner) you've already needed eye bleach.

UPS Man, you have been warned.

Of course most delivery men around here are of the drop and dash variety. They hear Oscar and see Lily and think they're about to lose a limb.

Anyways. That was my Tuesday. Love and hugs, y'all.

I Took My Girls to the WalMart

I woke up this morning feeling like I was sleeping in a straight jacket. As it turns out... I was just being cuddled by three furry beasts. My camera was on the night stand so I grabbed it and snapped a picture first thing...

See that barely twelve inches of space allotted for my legs? Not as cozy as you might think. You can't see Stubby in this picture. He has just now figured out that he can climb up the little chair beside my bed to get up on the bed. We slept on top of an electric blanket because there was a chill in the air and my back was in spasms at bedtime last night. 

Ever heard of the Princess and the Pea? On top of my mattress there is a foam mattress pad, a comforter, a down mattress pad (on just one side) a quilt, two fuzzy blankets, another comforter, an electric blanket, me, three cats and another fuzzy blanket. We will never freeze. 

This is a picture of the kitties from the other angle. I had a devil of a time climbing out of the bed which is already a tad bit high for me. 

I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing Little Kitty sleeping belly up... he looks so furry here!

That strange half-bald creature is Stubby, trying to find a place to stretch out since the other two cats were hogging the bed. I also really love it when my little penguin of a cat tries to groom his belly. It looks like he's doing sit ups!

Or like a turtle trying to flip over. Or like me trying to get out of bed when there are cats on either side of me. My stomach muscles are the pits after almost three years of not really being able to engage my core. And now that I have this new issue which Doctor Hottie thinks is a hernia but of course we're not sure until we do the costly work up that I can't afford to do. It could also be a cyst - there was one when they did my first MRI but it was another one of those, "let's leave it alone for now" deals. Either way... it comes and goes and although it's a different kind of pain, I'm growing accustomed to living with pain. Even when it's my day to pick up the girls. 

Sarabeth has chorus on Mondays until 3:20. Jamie has to be picked up by... 3:15? I think? I'm not even sure. I just head over there some time between 2:45 and 2:55 and we're never the last in line. I pick Jamie up and then we sit in the parking lot for - however long it is - and I get some quality one on one with Jamie before Sister joins us. Today I painted Jamie's nails and she read to me. Man, I love that kid!

She loved the blue, by the way. 

This afternoon I needed to go to Walmart to get yarn for Mawmaw to make a new afghan. She's crocheting as a way to entertain herself without putting too much strain on her heart. They ran a bunch of tests on her last week and things are ok other than her heart not relaxing in between beats like it should. She's had tachycardia (like me) for awhile. She gets out of breath and dizzy sometimes so she's taking on more sedentary things. 

In addition to the yarn, I had promised the girls a few dollars to spend at the dollar store, which turned into a few dollars to spend at Walmart since we were going there. And since I hadn't gotten SB a birthday present yet, I gave her the option of picking out something for her birthday... and, to be fair, gave Jamie the option of an early birthday present (her birthday is in December) so she was able to shop, too. 

I'm not great with Walmart because it's so big, which means a lot of walking. It wasn't bad today because we had a pre-determined game plan and went straight to the craft section and then straight to the toy section and they are both on the same side of the store. 

The girls are still adjusting to the idea that I have a handicapped tag and are always worried that we're going to get in trouble for parking in the handicapped spots. Jamie saw the sign that said "maximum fine $500" and she wanted me to hang the little thing from my rearview mirror in addition to having the license plate "just to be sure". And then as it turned out there was an open spot right beside the handicapped parking (and no handicapped spaces available) so Jamie was worried that if you had a handicapped tag you couldn't park in a non-handicapped space. She's a worrier, that one. She also wanted to help push the cart so it would be easier for me. 

Sarabeth wasn't sure what she wanted for her birthday. I suggested that she get another Georgia sweat jacket (the one I got her for Christmas two years ago has been her favorite jacket ever since!) and when she hesitated I teased her that "you might not want to advertise that you're for them right now since they've been losing". She said, "Aunt Heather you ALWAYS have to stand behind your team!". And she told me about a shirt she saw that said, "My favorite team is Georgia - and any team that is playing Florida". Football in the South is about good old fashioned hate and we teach the ways of rivalry to our young. She gets it already. 

Sarabeth, 11 years old, tall and lean! 

Anyways... two girls trying to make a decision about how to spend their little birthday budget takes longer than I expected. I also didn't realize how hard it would be to have two girls who wanted to shop on two separate aisles of the store - not wanting to take my eyes off either one for a split second. I did a lot of standing in the end cap between two aisles darting my eyes back and forth like I was at a tennis match. In the end, Sarabeth picked the game "Apples to Apples" and Jamie picked some anime looking rainbow doll. Both went over budget but they're my only girls and you only live once! And with 2/3 of my children living a good distance away, these two girls may be the ones helping to pick my nursing home. I want them to remember that Aunt Heather always tried to make things good for them. 

Jamie ponders the Barbie Microphone as a choice... 

It was funny... as we were talking about their budget and what kind of things they might want to buy, Sarabeth asked if there was anything they couldn't buy. I said, "yes. beer." and she added, "cigarettes" "Lottery tickets..." I added. She came back with "marijuana and other drugs". It's red ribbon week at their school so they're especially aware of the evils of these things. 

Even mundane things like a trip to Walmart is so much fun when you can go with people that you love and enjoy spending time with. As a single, empty-nester, I spend way too much time alone in stores. It's not that I shop that often but even for things like picking up groceries... it's much nicer if someone will go with me. 

As soon as we got back to their house, their dad was right behind us. I won't see 'em again until Sunday when we're all riding down into civilization together for Grandma's 90th birthday party. I've gotten to the point that I can take percocet without feeling altered at all mentally. I almost feel like my mind is sharper because I can focus on something other than pain. But if I take percocet, I can't drive and I will sort of crash physically at some point and get really sleepy... so even when it wears off I can't really drive until I've had a good sleep and since none of us is looking to spend the night at the Motel 6 in Woodstock, Georgia, me, mom and Austin will ride with Jim and Angie and the girls. I'm very excited about this party. It's going to hurt - it's a lot more sitting than I've been doing between riding the hour and a half (guessing) it will take us to get to the restaurant, a couple of hours there and then the long ride back. That's a lot out of my spine in one day but ninety is a big deal. Grandma is a big deal. She's had an amazing life. I'm so proud of the book I made for her. After the birthday party I'll make it available for any of y'all who want to look at a sneak peak of the project. I hope it's something she'll be happy with. I kinda sorta want to get my hair done one day this week so I'll look freshly coiffed for photos. I want this to be a very special day for our family. 

Anyways... I've rambled on for about an hour. That's about all the goodies from today. Mama made peanut butter cookies today and they turned out really awesome. I'm anxious to do some holiday baking but I don't really have that many people I see that I would bestow that type of gift on. So if you're in Helen in December, stop by and say hello and get you some fudge or cookies or whatever. 

We found another comforter to try with my purple wall. I really need some purple pillowcases or shams but for now... this is what we've got:

It's a really light pattern and I'm not sure it's what I'm going for. It's reversible so I may flip it tomorrow and see if it looks better that way. 

Hope you all had a great day. Thanks for stopping by! Love and hugs, y'all!

My Weekend and Another Episode From The Vault

And... *blink*... another weekend dashes by. I'd recap it for you but it looks pretty much like this:

Actually. There are a few things new around here....

A DIY blue manicure for me. Note to self: don't try to take a selfie of your hand when there's a friendly dachshund nearby. Oscar is licking my thumb here. 

As you can see, I'm a nail biter. I found the nail polish for a dollar at Dollar General this morning and thought it might deter me from biting my nails for a bit. It was also something different. I've never done any nail color except traditional pinks and reds and so forth, even when I used to keep acrylic nails. 

That was back in the season of life where I believed that you could weigh as much as you wanted as long as you did your hair and makeup, kept a good tan and had acrylic nails to deflect from the excess poundage. 

Not that I bought this nail color to deflect anything. I'm beyond that stage. What you see is what you get. 

Anyways. 

I also have a new (to me) comforter on my bed. I have been so desperate for something to tie in the purple wall and sage green curtains and new bedding is not currently in the budget. This old thing is so old that it was previously used to block out the light in Austin's old room and was one of the few things in his  room that survived the fire. True story. It's a relic. And it will do for now. 

Eddie approves. 

The weather has been unremarkable. I haven't cooked anything interesting this weekend because we've had plenty of leftovers... but I did take this picture last week and have yet to share it. We call these "english muffin pizzas" but they really don't taste like pizza. It's just a very thin beef patty on an english muffin, topped with a stewed tomato, a little ring of bell pepper and parmesan cheese, drizzled with olive oil. The olive oil really makes a difference. Austin loves these and it's a good way to stretch a tiny bit of meat. 

They are quite tasty. 

I just finished watching The King's Speech so I'm typing in an English accent. I have this fun habit of not watching a movie when it's in the theatre or when comes out on video or even when it's on cable. I love to wait until all the buzz has died down and then there's this great movie just waiting for me to see it. I do the same thing with tv shows. More fun to catch things on the downswing, don't you think? 

Ok. More from the vault. This time I'll share some of my Teen Mom memories with you. 

Ryan - who we all, to this day, still call "BooBoo" or "Boo" for short - was my practice child. My starter child. My guinea pig. How he survived at all is a testament to God's grace over our family. I was 18 when he was born. His father was 17. When we first got married (before Ryan was born) we lived with my husband's mother who was (and still is, I presume) near about crazy. Not fun crazy but a super sized episode of Hoarders crazy. Her husband died in Vietnam in 1969 and when I married her son in 1986 she still had every article of clothing, every book, anything Papa Ned had ever touched still in that house. People say she raised Robert with a ghost. 

Anyways... she also expected us to pay 2/3 of the household expenses since we were 2/3 of the household. This was particularly difficult because her son was still in high school and I was the only one working at that time. She was already on disability by then (I think she was about my age now, come to think of it). I was super sick with morning sickness and getting to work was a hugely uncomfortable ordeal and then I had to turn my entire paycheck over to her for us to have one tiny little bedroom and a shared bath. No thanks. 

Then we moved to my parents house which was crowded but cheaper. When Ryan was about five months old we moved to an apartment that was so crazy run down - it was $330 a month but it had a huge mold problem and he had bad asthma. We didn't last long there. After that we moved to Stratford Arms which was slightly nicer, right across the street from my parents. Stratford Arms were townhouses - you know, because every young couple with a toddler needs to live in a house with stairs. We not only had stairs in the apartment but also leading up to the front door was a steep set of concrete stairs. I was afraid to go downstairs by myself when Ryan needed a bottle at night so I would make his dad go fix the bottle. He wised up and started fixing a cooler with bottles to bring upstairs at night so he didn't have to go downstairs.

I worried myself sick about Ryan falling down those stairs in the apartment - which he did, a few times. But the worst was the day he tumbled down those concrete stairs in front of the house. Poor kid hit every step while I stood there screaming like I had lost my mind. It went in slow motion. I ran to the bottom of the stairs expecting him to be knocked out and half dead or at least screaming and instead he looked at me and said, "Mommy said, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God". Which was indeed, about what I said. I don't think he even cried. 

In the movie Fried Green Tomatoes there's a line where they say there's a separate God for children. I think there's a separate God for children who have children. Ryan was such a sick baby. He got sick at six weeks old and I don't think he was well until he was 12 years old. I can't tell you how many nights I spent sleeping on the floor beside his bed to make sure he was breathing and then he started smoking as a teenager. All that time I invested in those lungs! He had pneumonia time after time after time. His baby and toddler years were one big blur of sickness.  His resistance was so low he had to go once a month for intravenous gamma globulin treatments. We would sit in a little room for three hours while he got his treatment. He was such a pro at it. At three he would tell the nurses, "you can use this vein here but this one... it's got a little valve in it and it won't work well". 

Ryan was born grown. He had a serenity and maturity about him that made you feel like he had done this before. He's one of those kids who makes you believe in reincarnation (I don't really believe in it). We didn't have to worry about him breaking anything or getting into poisons or trying to put his fingers in a socket. He just knew what to do and what not to do. 

I've always said that it wasn't hard to be a teenage parent. I knew how to handle babies because I had little brothers. What's hard is having wisdom and life experience enough to parent a grown person when I'm still figuring things out myself. 

So there you go... a few tales from my own edition of Teen Mom. 

Hope your weekend was good. Love and hugs, y'all!

Photo Phinish Phriday + A Ride in the Time Machine

Or is Foto Finish Friday better? Hmmmm....

I'm a little low on content today but that's never stopped me before! I'm even low on photos but... we'll make do.

The only feedback I got on things to blog about came from Barbara who wants to know more about my time in theatre and more about being a young mom. I'll do some mom tales later on this week but OH the stories I could tell about my life in the theatre! I used to want to write a book called, "Confessions of a Fag Hag: A Fairy Tale". Seriously. Being the best friend of a gay man... especially one who is dramatic and talented and all that... I have got me some stories to tell!

There truly were some amazing times when I was hanging out with people who were far more talented and creative than myself. I came to work in the theatre because my brothers were involved in the local community theatre... which led to my youngest brother being asked to join a dance company... which led to my kids being invited to come and take dance class... which led to them participating in The Nutcracker... which led to my introduction to Purple Michael... which led to me working with Michael on two shows: Footloose and Fiddler on the Roof.

Michael is magical. There is no other way to describe him. He has this personality that draws you in... unparalleled charm... he's handsome... and he has this incredible voice. Once we took a group of kids from the dance school to perform at a La Leche League Convention. Each group was going to do a dance number and then Michael was going to sing. We had prepared all of the children that these were nursing mommies and there could be breastfeeding and it was all perfectly natural and normal. We neglected to inform the gay man who was with us. Michael gets up to perform and he's singing this really sweet romantic song and THE MILK... BEGAN... TO FLOW...  He said he was singing and all of a sudden, "BAM... Out comes a breast... and another breast... and another breast..." I think he still has post traumatic stress from it today.

Michael first talked to me at The Nutcracker because I was sort of the stage mother to all the male performers because, well, half of them were related to me. He was a performer but he also had a crush on a male performer who had a close bond to me. We also had a mutual crush on a stagehand and it evolved into our first game of "who can get him first?". A game we played up until the time that Michael became exclusively partnered with Ross. The mutual crush turned out to be a short time thing for me. I don't even remember his name, to be honest. We went on one date and he was all handsy beyond what he earned on one date. Then he was sketchy and I didn't hear from him for a few days so I was sort of bummed about it so Michael invited me over to spend the night with him and his roommate Ken. We drank martinis in our pjs and had the best girl talk I've had in my life! Later, the crush guy found out I was hanging out with Michael and all of a sudden he wanted to come hang out. Which made me think... maybe he was just using me as a pathway to Michael?

Michael was the first gay man I had spent any sort of time with. As a born and bred Southern Baptist, I had always just thought of homosexuality as a sin and figured it was better for me to avoid it but... all of a sudden this "sin that I was supposed to avoid"  had a name and a face and a laugh that draws everyone in for miles around. He listened to me. He cared about me. He cared about my children. It didn't take long for us to become a family. We took care of each other. I will always struggle with what I know to be true in the bible and what I also know to be true in how gay men were my village when I was a single mom. That's another post in itself though. Let's move on.

Sometime during those first few months of our friendship, I lost my job. I had worked in Freight Forwarding and Customs Clearances that were done through the Atlanta Airport. After 9/11 the amount of freight going by air had dropped way off. I was the last hire so I was the first fired. I was devastated until Michael said, "hey... I'm directing these two shows with Clayton Alliance For Summer Theatre this Summer and I could really use your help. What I lacked in theatrical training, I made up for from being a single, working mommy of three boys - I knew how to handle the logistics of getting a lot accomplished in a short amount of time. I work well under pressure. I am protective of Michael which makes his job easier because I'm answering the questions that he didn't need to be bothered with and making sure he has time for the people who truly do need to see him. Michael took care of the creative aspect of the shows and I took care of the logistics of it. And made sure he ate. And made sure he got enough rest. And really, just mothered him.

I formed a lot of relationships through theatre and one of the early ones with with Joey, a high school senior from a very conservative family. Joey was ALL over the stage... he knew the ins and outs of theatre and was willing to teach me the things I needed to know... he was willing to do the things that needed to be done - anything from set dressing to hemming costumes - he could and did do anything we needed of him. He, like Michael, were likely to turn up at my little double wide trailer more than once a week. There was always something going on.

Joey wanted to audition for a show "Damn Yankees" at Stagedoor Players in Dunwoody. He was young... not really used to driving around Atlanta... I went along with him to the audition and after he got the part, I made several trips with him for rehearsals. If anyone needed my help with something... I did it. I made sure Joey was on time and fed throughout rehearsals and shows. I worked the front of the house selling tickets, selling concessions, being House Manager. I was there for every show. I felt like I belonged. That's how I met my dear Mr. Drake. (I could write another whole entry on my Adventures with Mr. Drake because he truly expanded my horizons!)

 And then Joey wanted to audition for The Rocky Horror Stage Show. Most of the show the characters are in corsets and little black panties. Joey was just turning 18. I wasn't sure he'd get it. We had just finished set strike for Damn Yankees and were rushing to get Joey to his Rocky Horror audition. I got almost all the way home and realized I had Joey's headshot in my car. SO I... on a Sunday evening, after having worked all day at set strike... drove all the way from Fayetteville to Decatur - probably a 45 minute drive - and ran down the steps into the green room (where the actors were waiting) saying, "I've got your picture, Joe!" I sounded like Mama Rose. And so I became Mama Rose.

So Joey DID get cast in Rocky Horror. I'll scan some pictures for you guys at another time (too tired tonight) and I ended up getting drafted to help build costumes. I worked on bedazzling the robe that Frank Furter wore... it was a delicious deep green trimmed in feather and with little sparkling jewels all over it. I worked on that on piece on a Saturday for over 12 hours. Didn't move... no food breaks... just kept working. Once the show started I worked again in the front of the house... making audience participation bags that contained all the stuff you throw during Rocky Horror. And these bags... they had my lip print on them. I wore deep blood red lipstick and kissed hundreds of those bags! I dressed up with heavy tranny makeup, especially the thick, blood red lipstick that I used for the bags. I wore sassy clothing like fishnets and gold lame... and collected tickets, sold concessions, helped with costume repairs... whatever.

One night Michael came to see the show. The wine we served was really bad, cheap wine. Box wine. And we ran out during intermission. Now... I had been bringing my own. I'm not a big drinker usually and I'm an incredibly unsophisticated drinker. I'm still just as happy with a bottle of Boone's Farm than I am the best bottle of Kendall Jackson Chardonnay (My kids used to say, "mommy's getting KJ Chardonnay!". When we ran out of wine in the lobby and Michael came to complain about it/see if I could fix it... I whispered in his ear, "there's some backstage in the costume closet..." So we snuck into the costume room and found my stash of Boone's Farm.

Now... we would do two shows every Saturday night for Rocky Horror. I'd be at the theatre by 5 for an 8pm show. There was always something that needed my attention and if not, I could hang with my cool actor friends. I was such a groupie! We would start in on the box wine before the first show... and when it ran out, that's when we turned to Boone's Farm. Every Saturday night during the run of that show, I was always wiped out by the time we did an 8pm show and a midnight show. We'd leave the theatre bone tired and fighting to come down from a buzz. Joey's apartment was about two miles away so we always made it home safe and sound.

Back to the Boone's Farm in the costume room. Michael and I have always had an affectionate relationship. He's gay and I'm a straight girl so there's obviously no mo-jo there but we were very comfortable with each other. We even ... on occasion... will kiss... it's not a big deal. It's sort of like playing spin the bottle... you kiss but it's only in that moment and there's a pre-defined line of how far it will go. It's like... the fun of kissing a member of the opposite sex without the fear that it will go further than you want it to go. So when we got to the costume room we found the wine... finished it off... and we made out. It was lighthearted, silly, funny, friendly but it was really not sexual. It was a good kiss - passionate - but not foreplay.

It was dark backstage. Dark enough that we could barely see to make our way up the long dark hallway back to the front of the house. We opened the door to go back to the lobby and ran right into our friends Ethan and Josh. (small world sidebar: my Joey had a massive crush on Ethan, which is what got us steered toward theatre in Atlanta in the first place. And Josh... his mom cuts my mom's hair.) Josh kept looking back and forth between Michael and myself. He said, "were there two of you kissing back there?" and we both denied it heartily. "No way!" And then as Josh started speaking again we turned and looked at each other... "then why, " says Josh, "Does she have her red lipstick smeared all over your face?" We saw each other and both doubled over laughing. Pretty much every inch of our faces from the nose down were covered in that thick, iconic blood red lipstick.

Ok. That's enough for tonight. Hope you enjoyed! I'm about to go climb under the warm blankets with the kitties. Gonna be a cold one!

I'm still taking requests so if there's something you want me to blog about... let me know!

Love and hugs, y'all!