Gleaning Facebook: Spelling "Queen Bee"

Sheila and I have been playing the NYT Spelling Bee game daily for the last few months. We get a kick out of it. Sheila usually beats me to the "Genius" level but every now and then I get there first. And once a week or so we make "Queen Bee" status which means we have found every word in that day's list. I got there today! Yay! Sheila did too (but I was first). So I decided to be a braggart and add this frame for 24 hours.

 

Old Leaves: Mother's Day Replay

For Mother's Day I'll repost my blog entry for Mother's ninetieth birthday back in 2013. That amazing woman is now 98 and i am privileged to visit with her almost daily and make new memories to accompany the ones mentioned in this post and many more form the last 74 years. Here 'tis:

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We will celebrate my mother's birthday ten days early on February 9th -- this coming Saturday -- with a party at Trinity Methodist Church here in Rome. 2-4 p.m. Y'all come. 

(Edited February 10, 2013: We had a great day celebrating our mother yesterday. Each of the seven siblings took part in the program. Our brother-in-law Chuck Roszel added some heartfelt extemporaneous remarks at the end as well. I sang two songs, "The Love of God" during my remarks, and "Amazing Grace" with the congregation joining in, at the end.  Here are (approximately), my remarks.


My Mother is an amazing woman. 

I’ve always known that. 

Ruth Shaw is a very active woman -- creative, determined, dedicated, caring, independent, and sharp as a tack -- who will turn ninety-years-young on February 19. 

And I remember her thirtieth birthday, when I would have been almost six. I thought that sounded sort of old then. 

I remember walking hand in hand with her at about that time down Main Street of little Mackville KY from the Methodist parsonage to the elementary school for my first day of first grade. I remember the comfort of that hand.

And I remember the utter shame of having to walk the long blocks from Fourth Ward Elementary in Griffin GA toward our little parsonage on South Ninth Street carrying a note from Mrs. Giles about my third grade misbehavior. I would have to present that evidence of my black heart to my wonderful mother. I no longer remember the particular sin, but I do remember that I did not want to disappoint Ruth Shaw. 

My mother read to us. I can see the Bible story book in my mind’s eye. One of these days I want to find that book and buy one to have at my house. I loved those stories. Even more I loved the one who read them to us. 

I remember Mother walking me and Carol and Debbie down College Street to Griffin’s Hawkes Public Library to load up on Hardy Boy books, and Jim Kjelgaard, and boyhood biographies of Lee and Washington, and such, AND stopping by the bakery nearby for gingerbread men on the way home.

I remember the pride and awe of hearing her singing beautiful harmony with my Daddy --  “The Love of God” --  at a Sunday night service at Midway Methodist. So in honor of that but without the harmony -- unless some of you want to provide it and feel free! -- I’d like to sing that old song.

1. The love of God is greater far

1. Than tongue or pen can ever tell;

1. It goes beyond the highest star,

1. And reaches to the lowest hell;

1. The guilty pair, bowed down with care,

1. God gave His Son to win;

1. His erring child He reconciled,

1. And pardoned from his sin.

• Refrain:

• Oh, love of God, how rich and pure! How measureless and strong!

• It shall forevermore endure—The saints’ and angels’ song.

1. Could we with ink the ocean fill,

1. And were the skies of parchment made,

1. Were every stalk on earth a quill,

1. And every man a scribe by trade;

1. To write the love of God above

1. Would drain the ocean dry;

1. Nor could the scroll contain the whole,

1. Though stretched from sky to sky.

We thought we’d arrived in heaven -- at least I did -- in 1958 when we moved from the modest little parsonage in Griffin to the brick mansion-in-my-eyes at Ellijay. On the day we moved Daddy pulled the car onto the shoulder along Highway 5 as we neared Ellijay to soak in an amazing sight. The white clouds in an azure sky had nestled onto and around the mountains, allowing those magnificent  summits to peek out above them.  

I have many good memories from Ellijay, but a terrifying one occured about 1960. David a toddler decided to spread the ends of a bobby pin and poke them into an electrical outlet. Luckily the circuit he completed was broken when the pin burned in two and dropped to the wooden floor where it burned a permanent record of the event. Mother handed the convulsing David to me to hold while she drove us down Dalton Street toward the doctor’s office. Her calm calmed us then and often since, even when she was the one suffering and we should have been the ones soothing.

Like every Southern family at the time, our extended family members were not unanimously accepting of the tumult of the day. I remember with pride my bashful Mother defending Martin Luther King in some family discussions -- well before it was the popular thing to do.

I could go on and on. 

I love my mother not just for herself, but for those who loved her enough to guide her toward the person she has become. Those include my grandmother Ieula Ann Dick Baird, who as a widow raised her eleventh child to revere the father, Wilson Baird, she lost when she was only nine, to love the God who had guided him, and to love Ieula’s own grandfather, Bogan Mask, who had shown kindness to mistreated slaves and bravely stood for his beliefs as a licensed Methodist exhorter and took in Ieula, her siblings and her widowed, pregnant mother when Charles Ervin Dick died at 35. 

I love her for the the quiet bravery, dedication to duty, and love of God exhibited by her brothers and sisters, and the love of a young husband and his band of precocious, mischievous brothers, gregarious Daddy Shaw, and determined Mama Shaw. 

I love her for my inspiring siblings, whom she reined in when needed, but to whom she gave the reins when they were ready.

And of course there are the “lemon fluff” frozen desserts she made in ice trays, snow-cream during our Kentucky days, the cinnamon yeast rolls on Christmas mornings, and the traditional little bottles of Welch’s Grape Juice in our stockings, banana pudding on other special occasions, the cornbread dressing with the big Butterball turkey at Thanksgiving, date-nut cakes on my birthdays... my mouth is watering.

Which brings us to some verse I wrote for Mama many years ago now. 

Dandelions in a Milk Carton

Thank you, Mama, 

For nursing me and diapering me,
for a dry set of sheets when I wet another,
for the Bible story book and Uncle Remus,
for all five sisters and my little brother, 

And all the good eating stuff
Like biscuits from wooden bowls
and datenut cakes and lemon fluff,
and Russian tea and yeast rolls  

For Jesus-loves-the-little-children and Deep-and-Wide,
For walking to school that first day by my side
And for your loving smile when I came in a run
with dandelions in a milk carton for all you’ve done.

I remember with pride how as a widow in her early sixties my mother followed her heart, her calling, and her conscience, despite her bashful nature, to take over my father’s ministry, complete seminary, become an outstanding preacher, and successfully minister to several churches and many hurting people in the years since. Many times this was while she heroically faced one of the most debilitating and painful diseases known to mankind (Trigeminal neuralgia) and its resulting brain surgeries and medications -- and later facial surgery and cancer.

Everyone has always assumed Mother to be younger than her actual age as long as I can remember, and she still seems much younger than what the calendar indicates. I have always believed my Mama the prettiest, smartest, and kindest one around -- and, of course, also the best cook. Still do.

Happy birthday, Mama

The Lion's Paw (The whole thing!)

Note - May 2021: Last Spring, as we dealt with the pandemic, I got permission from the publishers to read my favorite children's novel for students stuck with online lessons for the year. As the pandemic winds down (Please!) I thought I'd post the links one more time in case you missed them. I had a great time reading the book and I'd love for more kids to be exposed to this wonderful story. I think AW Ink still has some hardback copies of the book available. Check them out at the link below. You will find links to each chapter in this post.

Sheila and I have had our vacinations, I hope my readers have as well. If not VAX UP! Let's whup this thing once and for all.

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Order your own brand-new copy of The Lion's Paw by Robb White 

from AWInk, Inc. at  www.thelionspaw.org

Chapter One

Here's the first chapter of my favorite children's novel, The Lion's Paw by Robb White. I am reading it online for those folks stuck at home during the Covid-19 pandemic. Y'all stay home, wash hands, sanitize often, be careful!

Thanks to the folks at AWInk, Inc. for allowing me to do this. Thanks especially to Leslie Saunders, Robb White's step daughter for her cooperation. You can read a 17 minute rambling monologue about my association with this book since 1970 here: The Lion's Paw: Preface

Or just start with Chapter One here...

Read more at these links:

The Lion's Paw: Preface

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Two

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Three

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Four

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Five

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Six

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Seven

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Eight

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Nine

     (Bonus Story) Trouble: A How Come Story)

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Ten

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Eleven

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Twelve

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Thirteen

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Fourteen

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Fifteen

The Lion's Paw: Chapter Sixteen

    

Clocktower Tours

The Rome Area History Center sponsors a tour of our town's iconic Clocktower on the first Saturday of each month from April to September. I have enjoyed giving the "Up Top" portion of the tour several times now. Here are some pics from yesterday's tours.

Selena Tilly, Archivist at the History Center, discusses the history of our City Clock and Tower inside what used to be the city's primary water reservoir which is inside the clocktower.

This drone video of the Clocktower Tour in progress was created by artist Jeremy Smith:

These three panoramic photos give a full 360° view from atop the City Clock...

1. The view toward (left to right)
"The Columns" on Fourth Ave.,
Summit Hill mills (formerly Southeastern Mills)
South Broad Street
Myrtle Hill
The confluence of the rivers
The Forum
The Courthouse
Winshape Center (at the base of Lavendar Mountain directly beyond the center section of the courthouse)
The Turner-McCall bridge over the Oostanaula
The Library
City Hall (and Auditorium)
Riverside (in the distance directly over City Hall)
Jackson Hill
Metropolitan United Methodist Church
Saint Mary's Catholic Church
North Broad Street

 

Panorama Two:
The confluence of the rivers
The Forum
The Courthouse
Winshape Center (at the base of Lavendar Mountain directly beyond the center section of the courthouse)
The Turner-McCall bridge over the Oostanaula
The Library
City Hall (and Auditorium)
Riverside (in the distance directly over City Hall)
Jackson Hill
Metropolitan United Methodist Church
Saint Mary's Catholic Church
North Broad Street
The Turner-McCall bridge over the Etowah
The new East Bend Shopping Center
Fifth Avenue at East Third Street
Old Shorter Hill (look for the pale yellow house with a prominent exterior chimney)

Panorama Three
North Broad Street
The Turner-McCall bridge over the Etowah
The new East Bend Shopping Center
Fifth Avenue at East Third Street
Old Shorter Hill (look for the pale yellow house with a prominent exterior chimney)
The Columns
First Untied Methodist Church
Mount Aventine
Summit Hill mills

First Baptist Church

Myrtle Hill

Back on the Riverwalk

 I certainly miss those little girls and their parents, but after a long visit to California it us also good to be back home. Sheila and I took a walk along the rivers and got some nice pictures of the sunset in my hometown. 

Saying goodbye...

We ended a month with these wonderful kids today with an hour or so cavorting in the beautiful fountains and playground at the San Diego County administrative building right on the harbor near the airport. What a great time these two had, and we just as much fun playing, chasing, or just watching. (If you click on the first picture you can use your arrow keys to scroll through all the full-size pics.)

We drove directly to the airport from these fountains and soon were high in the air gliding home, exhausted and happily remembering these moments with Clementine and Ruth and Brannon.

Gleaning Facebook: Cookies, Moon, and Stolen Hat

Making cookies with Granny and Gamma...

Deborah Lake Dawson
Such a beautiful skin and coloring. That hair with Brown eyes is gorgoues

Sliding with Granny in Oceanside

There are panthers in Oceanside!

That panther growls!

There’s great play equipment in this small park but nothing beats just the steep dirt bank!

If my humor were as successful with everyone (and consistently so) I could make a fortune in stand-up. 

Moonrise through the cactus.

Clemmie and I made a memory as we watched the moon climb through the clouds on the horizon from Gamma & Papa’s back yard.

Clemmie presents my bowl of ice cream with ‘her’ cookies.

Ruthie loves to ‘steal’ my hat.