Saturday August 13 2016  A PICTURE INTO THE PAST: MONTGOMERY DELMAR

NOTE INSERT: Montgomery was still living in 2011 when we had the reunion.  He lived in California and was too ill to travel to Arkansas for the reunion.

Below is the short biography of Montgomery used at the reunion.

 

“Montgomery Delmar

1929 – 2013

Married:

Willie Etta

 

Children:

Montgomery Delmar Jr.

William Ernest

Galen Lewis

Gail “Lynette”

Our wonderful Uncle “Gomery”, how we miss your presence here tonight.  You have been the spiritual rock of our family.  So many comforting words have come from your heart, so many words of eulogy spoken over our loved ones.  You have been there for so many, offering your services at not only funerals but officiating marriages, counseling and “uncle love”.  We so appreciate your dedication to our Lord and to our family.  You have been our spiritual physician.  Your wonderful smile and calming words have been a gift to all of us.  Uncle Gomery, thank you for serving in the United States Navy for 10 years.  We admire you for helping our country become a safer place to live.  Your sacrifice and willingness to serve will be remembered!

The entire family sends their condolences for the recent loss of the love of your life.  Though our love can never replace the love of Willie Etta, we send our heartfelt love to you now across the miles.

During Montie and Willie Etta’s journey of life, they too buried a dear and precious son, Montgomery Delmar Jr. at the age of three months.  They reared two more sons and a daughter.  “Montie” and Willie Etta served for a time in Manila as missionaries working to transmit Christ’s message to a lost world.  Through all the years since returning to the states they have helped with financial support.  Montgomery worked with electronics in Manila as well as in the professional world.  He worked for Lockheed and Sylvania.  He served on the staff of First Assembly of God Church in Fremont California and later went back into electronics and worked for Singer Link.

Montgomery, your gifts have been many.  You have given to others the gift of hope. Your continued visitation to those in the hospital has brought much joy to many.  Your gifts of mercy and generosity have been given freely, as well as your gifts of help and encouragement.  And you have been the gate keeper of words, as God has bestowed you with a gift of writing, which you have shared to touch the hearts of many.  Thank you for all the kind words you have written and spoken over the years. 

The words of your children are such a tribute to you.  You are remembered for your unwavering kindness, the love you have always had for your family, including your brothers and sisters, and for the many hours of being a prayer warrior.  You have been an example of Godliness to your children as well as to the rest of the family.  To know you is to know more how to be like Jesus.”

 

So what do I know about Uncle “Gomery”?  (Gomery is what we called him as kids.)  As we grew up a bit he was sometimes referred to as Uncle Monty.  He said, “You can call me anything you like as long as you don’t call me late for dinner”.   And boy, did Montgomery like to eat.  Especially the sweets!  He was a bit spoiled too because he married a good cook and she could really make some great desserts.  Both of them were slim and trim.  And I also want to say that his wife was dedicated to her husband.  She was quiet, stayed behind the scenes, and always willing to help do the work it took to feed and clean up after a big family gathering.  They are both enjoying their heavenly reward.  “No more dishes to wash Aunt Willie Etta!  I always loved you too!”  They both have joined their firstborn son who died of crib death when just a few months old.

Monty was a small, slight boy.  His sister Annie remembers the boys at school taunting him with the words, “You’re no taller than a cat’s ankle.”  He would get furious and lay into these great big boys with his metal lunch bucket.  His bucket was always dented and battered because of how many bigger boys he would haul off and hit with it.  Annie said he never laid a finger on a girl however, except once.  And it was Annie herself.  She was taunting him with a note she had received from another girl who was sweet on him and Annie would not let him have it.  He finally got the note and then took Annie (they were teenagers at the time) over his knees and gave her a thorough whipping.   Annie also said that he was ALWAYS a true gentleman with the ladies, even as a young boy.  I guess that was true, EXCEPT to her!

The true gentleman is the uncle I remember.  He was always sweet and kind to all of us nieces and nephews.  Even his voice was gentle.  As a child of 7 or 8 years old he had a hankering to get up on the bed of the truck and “preach” to his brother’s and sister and would not allow them to leave.  He later grew up, attended Bethany Bible College, graduated and became a minister.  He was the first child of the clan to attend and graduate from college.  So we had a “family minister”.  Later his sister Annie, whom he put in her place as a teenager, graduated with a nursing degree and became our “family nurse”.

As a young person I thought it was only Uncle Gomery that knew how to “marry people” and knew how to “do funerals”.  He was the go-to guy.  I believe he was the one to console, comfort, and counsel many in our clan.  He never did grow to be what is called a “big man”, but in my eyes he was one of the biggest.  Never did I hear anyone in our family speak critically of “the little guy who was no taller that a cat’s ankle” after he was grown.  He was always looked up to and respected.  And like the rest of us, he wasn’t perfect, just almost.  He was truly a man of God.

I had only three blood uncles and each and everyone one of them was my favorite; each one for different reasons.  I was so fortunate to have the connection with these three abused boys who grew up to be awesome.  Yes, some had some rough bumps, along the way, but ultimately were able to overcome those obstacles, and each walked tall in my eyes.

When I look back over some of the things I found out about how Montgomery was as a kid, it makes me chuckle.  Most of William and Gracie’s children were born with an inner spunk.  I don’t believe they could have survived without it.  All I know is that each one is special in my heart and as a family we sure laughed a lot.

One final interesting fact about Uncle Montie, he wrote beautiful poetry!  I truly believe we were kindred spirits.

Below is the poem I wrote for the 2011 reunion regarding Montgomery Delmar:

 

Montgomery Delmar

1929 – 2013

 

You Are a True Man of God

Kathleen Martens

April 2, 2011

 

So many girls – finally another son!

And for this family, just the right one.

With a twinkle in his eyes and a heart of gold,

He was a gift to this family fold.

 

With a heart for God; a man now stood

As he worked for the Lord, did all he could.

Such comforting words have come from his heart,

His blessing on marriage – new couples to start.

 

In time of grief – he was always there,

Helping wounded hearts, by words he shared.

“We love you Uncle Gomrey, you’ve helped us through life,

And we send our love at the loss of Your wife.

 

You’ve given such joy to so many others.

You’ve loved unconditionally your sisters and brothers.

Your gift of encouragement has helped us all,

And in our eyes you’re ten feet tall.”

 

Montgomery’s FIRST PLACE AWARD from his children is for:

“PRAYER WARRIOR”.

“ WE ALSO REMEMBER YOU FOR YOUR OUTREACH TO OUR FAMILY IN SO MANY WAYS AND YOUR UNENDING LOVE FOR YOUR FAMILY.”

“YOU ARE A TRUE MAN OF GOD”

A pretty good first award certificate I would say.

 

TO PAINT A WORD MOSAIC

By Kathleen Martens

August 13, 2016

 

How am I so blessed

To be part of such a clan,

With every single uncle

Such an outstanding man?

 

Little boys and little girls

Who battled years of toil,

Working harder than a grownup

Never time to be spoiled

 

Growing up to be so giving,

So helpful to each other,

Looking out for brothers and sisters

As well as for their mother.

 

It is a world that now is gone

And their history left behind.

But a mama’s love and prayers

To each other helped them bind.

 

And every single child

Born into this large brood,

At one time or another,

For each other they have stood.

 

Through all the struggles experienced

A better life one day found.

Each helping the next

Because through love they were bound.

 

And I am so thankful

For all the bits and pieces

That I am now discovering

Of uncles, aunts, nephews, and nieces.

 

Little bits of stories

Written to hopefully last,

To paint a word mosaic

OF A PICTURE INTO THE PAST.

 

Thank You God for all my cousins.

Thank You Lord for our children and all my cousin’s children.

And thank You too for our grandsons.

Thank You for smiles.

Thank You for quiet moments by myself.

Today I thank You especially for Aunt Annie.

Thank You for the love You grow in my heart for my family.

Thank You for grapes. 

 

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU!

 

IMPORTANT NOTICE

P.S.  I will be discontinuing Sunday blogs so as to take a little time off from writing.  Still have work to do on a book I am compiling and editing for publication.  Lord willing I will resume this series on Monday.  And…it is about Aunt Annie!  She was (and still is) the “pistol of the family”.  And you know what, this could be made into a long series if I started a round on the cousins.  Oh my, what I could tell you!  But I don’t think I will because there are a few things they could tell about me as well.

 

 

Friday August 12 2016  A PICTURE INTO THE PAST: Esther Ruth 

Following is the biography I wrote about Aunt Esther in 2011 for our family reunion.  I will close my blog telling a bit more about her.

“ESTHER RUTH CARTER

Born 1928

Married three times

Outlived each husband

 

Willard

Joe

Conrad

 

Children:

George Edward

Shirley Karen

Dale Hallman

Janey Beth

Bill

Bob

 

My precious Aunt Esther!  I suppose I must share her with some other cousins but when I am with her she is all mine.  At least that is how she makes me feel.  From my earliest memory of her, she has been an angel in the disguise of my aunt.  God graced her with a spirit of refined beauty.  Well, she is not quite perfect but her spirit is one that is only given out to humans occasionally.  As her daughter so eloquently stated, “her love language is through acts of service for others.”  And I know Janey is right.

*Esther has survived three husbands and has experienced the death of three children.  Her first two children died within weeks of birth.  She reared 4 children and lost one as an adult due to a tornado accident.  She has not been spared pain.  Somehow, the Lord’s peace and comfort have enabled her to endure one moment at a time and her gentle kind spirit has never faltered. 

Esther was proprietor of Carter’s Grocery for many years.

The world is more beautiful because Aunt Esther lives in it.  Her gifts are varied but she has been especially blessed with the gift of hospitality, always giving to others the comfort of bed, food, love, and care.   When you leave Aunt Esther’s presence, you know you have experienced a little more of God’s love.  She reflects that love.  She has truly been God’s hand extended.

Quilt making, sewing, gardening, cooking, and biscuit perfection, are just some of her many talents.  She is always cooking up something and it’s usually for the company that’s coming. 

She enjoys reading her Bible and talking on the phone to her sisters.  She loves to sing and a favorite song she sings around the house is “IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL”.  Her family is a great joy to her and she is an active grandmother to all her grandchildren.  How fortunate they are to have a grandmother named Esther Ruth.

Aunt Esther, words cannot express how much I love you and probably speak for all who are here tonight.  We want you to know how much we love and appreciate you!  We remember you for your generosity, for reaching out to others, making great meals for all of us and taking food to those who need your care.  The sharing of your garden has been such a blessing to family, friends, and church body.  Your freezer is always full of the morsels from your summer labor and you are so quick to share what you have.  We are so blessed to have you in our family.

GOD BLESSED THE EARTH THE DAY YOU WERE BORN!”

 *Since the biography above was written Esther has since experienced the death of her beloved daughter Janey Beth in 2015 due to cancer.  Janey’s spirit was every bit as beautiful as her mother’s.  Though they are separated now, it is just for awhile.  I truly believe that each time one of our clan enters the gates of heaven there is an entire host of our family members waiting to greet him/her!

Esther’s CERTIFICATE OF HONOR, FIRST PLACE AWARD IS FOR  “#1 MOTHER AND ANGEL IN DISGUISE.”  Her children are quoted as saying, “We will always remember you for opening your heart and home to family, never asking anything in return.”  Esther is remembered as “A woman of substance blessed with strong faith and strong love.”

God truly blessed our entire family through Esther.  She is an amazing woman.  She is currently 88 years old and still as sweet and gentle as ever.  I believe she just brims over with the love of God.  From my earliest recollection she always seemed to have a love and closeness with the Lord like none other I have known.  That is what I strive to have.  I have no memory of Esther ever being other than her sweet self.  Now don’t believe for a moment that she withholds what she wants to say, regardless of what it might be, the difference is, she says EVERYTHING with such a sweet demeanor and gentle voice that at first you don’t realize you are being chastised. I have never heard her raise her voice.  That wasn’t quite the atmosphere in my own home.  Both my mama and Esther were strong, capable and resourceful women, Esther just had a gentler approach when she meted out the discipline.

Looking back over the years I realize that Esther is a woman of great fortitude and strength.  I just called her and asked her where strength comes from?  She simply said, “It is help from the Lord”.   

When I questioned Esther a few moments ago I asked her what caused her first two full term babies to die so quickly after birth.  They each lived a few days.  She gave me an answer I have never heard before but I will share her memories, not what someone else told me.  Esther said she didn’t have enough food to eat while she was pregnant and couldn’t make enough milk for her babies and because of their weakened condition at birth they could not survive. 

Esther later gave birth to another son who was born two weeks before I was born.  Dale survived and still lives today.  He is a man of few words so I don’t believe he necessarily appreciates all my chatter when we are together but he is always so sweet, polite, and kind.  I love him and his wife dearly.  His wife is just as sweet as he is.  Because we have always lived so far apart we have never truly become acquainted. 

When Dale was a bit shy of his second birthday his father was involved in a farm tractor accident.  His legs were cut off below his torso and he died a few hours after he was flown to Little Rock Arkansas.  He had lost too much blood and could not survive.  So there was Esther, one surviving son and no husband.  It should be understood that these were difficult and scarce times.  Food was scarce, there was no such thing as social help for the needy in the way of food stamps or housing.  Her mother and father still had many children at home and could barely feed them.  And, so widow and widower unite to become a new family.  I don’t know how soon after her husband died but she married husband Joe.  Joe had two young boys whose mother had also died recently.  Each parent adopted the other’s children and Esther accepted and loved those two boys as if they were her own.  Their son Bill was killed several years ago when a tornado  hit his home in Arkansas while he was in bed.  His wife was severely injured.  She and Joe had a daughter who was a great Joy to Esther.  But life still wasn’t easy for her.

Esther worked like a man to help support the family.  She invested in a wayside gas station and general store that became their greatest source of income.  There was a house on the property and from the time she moved in it became a welcoming beacon to any and all family members who passed through Arkansas.  It is still one of my favorite places to go.  It is like walking into the pages of the past; a screened in front porch with a porch swing, a beautiful garden surrounding both sides of the house, and a treasure trove of retro furniture and décor.  It feels like home when we drive down for a visit. 

Over the years things changed.  The old store and gas station was torn down and she relocated the gas station and store across the highway from her home.  She eventually sold the gas station and store.  Unknown to her, about a year later the the highway department exercised imminent domain in order to widen the highway and new owners lost the gas station and she lost most of her front yard.  The highway is very close to her porch swing and it is difficult to talk and be heard on the screened in porch.  She lost much of her garden area but many flowers were salvaged and planted further back before the bulldozers came through.  And Esther survived.  Joe died and she survived once again.

Later in life Esther married again but they each kept their own homes because at their age they knew that it was inevitable that one would probably outlive the other.  And Esther moved back into her home after husband number three died.  She is a strong woman; a woman of fortitude and strength.  She has been an unbelievable role model for me all these years.  Even as I aged I never stopped learning from her. 

God gave special talents and blessings to each one born to William and Gracie.  Each one has passed on special memories, traits, and knowledge to me.  The generation I am from were taught to respect and honor their elders and so we did.  But it also seemed as if our aunts and uncles honored their nieces and nephews as well. 

Yes, times were rough and tough and sometimes hungry for some, but the experience of coming from a networking family such as my mom was born into is such a blessing.  It is lacking in today’s world.  Just to honor a parent seems to be lacking in most families.  What a shame that values such as fortitude and endurance seem to be out of vogue.  It sometimes seems that those who have the least are the ones that reach out in compassion and give the most when others are in need.  And when it was family, you didn’t even have to ask.  I thank God for all the help along the way that we received as kids growing up in a family with eleven aunts and uncles, and dozens of cousins.  Our family reunions are always a lot of fun!

AND YOU HAVE NEVER HEARD A FAMILY OF MORE TALKATIVE WOMEN!  YOU CAN’T GET A WORD IN EDGEWISE.

 

EVERY ONE OF THEM GAVE ME A JEWEL

By Kathleen Martens

August 12, 2016

 

No matter how life can overwhelm

Or when the sky seems bleak and grey.

When you are part of family such as ours

You are offered food and a place to stay.

 

Someone always comes to bat

To help out in a pinch.

Even though it may mean sacrifice

And life won’t be a cinch.

 

Never have I seen another family

Who has cared for one another

Such as the siblings of my mama,

Nine girls and three brothers.

 

They weathered storms as little ones,

Big brother standing up for the tots,

He seemed to ire his father’s fury.

And it happened quite a lot.

 

Twelve survived from thirteen,

Little Helen went to heaven too soon.

Broken spirits of little kids,

As adults sing another tune.

 

Bits and pieces shattered amidst

Those formative early years.

And sorrow left in broken hearts

That had cried a lot of tears.

 

Each one grew wings as they healed.

Their talents blossomed and grew.

These are the aunts and uncles I love

And our hours together too few.

 

And every one of them gave me a jewel

That I saved upon my shelf,

It was their fortitude, strength, and resilience,

Of how, they reinvented themselves.

 

Lord, thank You that my mother survived that I might have life.

Thank You Lord for the life You have given me.

Thank You for the knowledge of who You are!

Thank You for all my aunts and uncles.

Thank You for their influence and love they have showered upon me.

Thank You for my sister’s photo collection that prompted me to write this series.

Thank You for all that I am learning through this endeavor.

Thank You for the beautiful spirit in the man I married!

Thank You for telephones.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU!

 

I LOVE YOU AUNT ESTHER.  IT WAS SO GOOD TO TALK TO YOU TODAY.

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday August 11 2016  A PICTURE INTO THE PAST: ARVIL EDWARD “BUDDY”

Not only am I giving my readers a glimpse into the past, but I am gaining new insights into the past.  My Aunt Annie has been so helpful in answering questions and sharing her memories of times before I was born, or too young to remember.  It has helped me see a more complete picture of who my aunts and uncles were way back then.

My Aunt is a retired nurse and published author, lives in a retirement center, and is usually too busy to talk on the phone.  I guess retirement isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.  I thought retirement would be a time of leisure and relaxation.  Now that I’ve had a taste of retirement I find that most retirees are even busier than they were before they retired.   I know for a fact that I have never been busier in my life and it still seems like I am treading water when I see what I have accomplished thus far.  Oh well, that’s life!

Today I am going to look back into the pictures of the past and introduce my readers to the first born son in my mother’s family.  His name is Arvil Edward and all the cousins always knew him as Uncle Buddy.  Uncle Buddy is now 91 years old, of sound mind, but hard of hearing.  He too was raised in cruel circumstances just as his siblings were.  According to his younger sister Annie, he has always been kind at heart, sensitive, compassionate, and caring; especially toward his siblings who were so cruelly treated.  She told me stories where Buddy stuck up for his little sisters and brothers and on one occasion had to pretty much run for his life.  After that incident grandma took their rifle off the premise and had someone else house it for them.  It was a frightening time for the little children. 

Some may wonder why I am sharing these stories about my grandfather.  I know he was the father of my mother and all her siblings, and the children were taught to honor their father and mother.  Like I said before many will not speak about his behavior.  If we are to understand who and why our aunts and uncles are who they are, it is necessary to know about their past.  Often times abusive behavior is passed down from one generation to the next.  To my knowledge I don’t believe any of my grandfather’s offspring were physically cruel to their children.  I believe they knew instead how they would not parent.  It wasn’t to say that my siblings and I didn’t get spankings with a switch from my mom, but I don’t ever remember seeing my mom or any of her siblings in a rage.  When I look back now I realize mama didn’t have all the sophisticated knowledge that is at our finger tips in this “modern day era”, but rather the instinctual behavior mothers have with their offspring.  She loved her children.  She did the best she knew how with her limited scope of knowledge and understanding.  Times were hard.  Food was scarce.  Time was so limited that to even spend “quality” time with your children was unheard of. When my parents lived in Arkansas mothers often picked cotton in the fields, grew food for the family, canned and preserved what they grew, fixed all the meals, cut wood for the woodstove, did laundry on a scrub board and had three or four babies underfoot at any one time and probably pregnant.

And for the three sons in my mother’s family, who was their role model?  What were they being taught?  How would they be ready to meet the world head on?

Uncle Buddy was taken out of school after the fifth grade in order to work on the farm.  Even with his limited education he later became an avid reader, devouring book after book.  My heart smiled when I realized that little nugget of gold in him.  The desire for learning and experiences never died in that little boy; instead he waited until the time was right to enjoy what he missed so many years before.

The biography synopsis I wrote for him in 2011 covers some of the pertinent facts in his life and I won’t repeat them here.  Rather I want to tell you how I viewed Uncle Buddy.  He was different to me.  He was like a gentle giant.  He seemed so tall and straight.  He always looked nice when I saw him and I noticed a gentleness in him that was different from the other men in my life.  Yes, he was a hard worker, had grease under his fingernails at times, and might have even needed deodorant a time or two, but he was special in my heart.  Actually I was a little afraid of him.  I thought he was rich.  After all he and his wife had a beautiful home and beautiful furniture and his wife was pretty and always dressed so nice.  I admired that.  It was certainly more than we were accustomed to since we lived in the projects and had bare bone necessities.

The thing that amazed me most about him was that he was the first man I was ever around that picked up his newborn baby and held him so tenderly.  I had never seen a man do that.  And Uncle Buddy, in my eyes, was tall and stately and commanding.  After all he had served in World War II.  I now realize that he carried himself like a military man.  But even as a big strong man, the love that shined in his eyes as he looked at his baby son caught me off guard.  He had only one child and the love for his son never once waned.  I do not know how he treated his son when other people were not around but I do know that his son grew up to be a man of integrity just like his father.  Uncle Buddy seemed to know how he didn’t want to parent.  I would venture to say that he never beat his child.

As I aged I realized that Uncle Buddy was a man of integrity.  He was the backbone of the family. He dearly loved his wife. He loved his son and was so good to all of the extended family.   All the siblings who lived in close proximity were always very close and supportive of each other.  It is truly amazing to see how the network of a family came together during the hard times in which so many lived.  The story of each sibling is so different, yet so connected.  And through it all, none turned their back on their father as he aged and became vulnerable.  And all had a great unending love for their mama.  And like grandma said, God was so good to her to let her outlive her husband so she could have some good years.  She had 14 good years!  And she deserved every one of them. 

I will share a story that Annie told me tonight about what happened at the end of World War II that may be unknown to the family.  When Buddy was coming home from the service he worked for the motor pool.  The atomic bomb had just been dropped a few days earlier.  Buddy was put on duty to change the huge tires of vehicles with his bare hands that had just driven through all the atomic fallout from the bomb dropped on Nagasaki on August 9, 1945.  The dust and dirt he handled affected him for the rest of his life.  His hands were never the same after that and continually chaffed and cracked terribly from that time on.  He was never compensated by the government for the damage done to his hands which causes him so much pain and distress.

When Buddy left for the war Grandpa made him sign a paper so that a stipend from Buddy’s check would be sent to the family.  Annie thought it was $37.50 per month.  Annie told me that because of that money they were able to feed the children those years Buddy was gone.  And I believe it was Buddy who came home and then helped out financially to buy a farm for his parents.  Grandma and Grandpa lived on that farm until they died. What a son!

“BIOGRAPHY BELOW WRITTEN IN 2011

Arvil Edward “Buddy”  Born 1925

Wife:  Wilma Sue

Son: Nathan Edward

Finally, after 4 daughters a son was born; Buddy, the first born son of William Ellis and Gracie Rittie .  And creativity did not stop with the daughters.  Before retirement Buddy was a self employed mechanic that worked on appliances as well as other motors.  He was innovative and creative when it came to figuring out how to make something work.  He was also very analytical, according to his son Nathan.

Uncle Buddy you have been the dependable backbone in this family, available to your sisters and brothers when it came to helping out and “fixing” anything from cars, appliances, plumbing, you name it, we could depend on you for rescue.  Your strong family ties and strong work ethic is to be admired.   In addition to being dependable, words used to describe you are hardworking, frugal, analytical and creative.

Uncle Buddy served in the US Navy for two tours.  These dates are approximate but thought to be from July 1943 through December 1945. He served in 1^st Seabees of U.S. Navy Construction Battalion.  His second tour was from 1948 through 1953, also in the US Navy, serving on the USS Valley Forge Air Craft Carrier during the Korean War.

Buddy has a great love for books and he is constantly reading.  We must be related!  He also enjoys woodworking.

Uncle Buddy we salute your valor for serving our Country.  Thank you for fighting for our freedom with your life.  We honor you for your righteous living and setting a Godly example for our family.  We love you!

You are remembered for your amazing love of your country, your family, and God.  You are a man of integrity.”

 

POEM WRITTEN FOR UNCLE BUDDY:

Just One Word

Kathleen Martens

September 9, 2010

 

An unimpaired condition,

Complete & whole.

Strength & Soundness.

Is it a chair or a soul?

When you add honesty

Responsibility and sincerity,

You now have

A definition of clarity

That you speak of a man

With Character unending

Who shows fairness & justice

All without rending.

He is genuine, honest,

Fair and upright.

A man of scruples,

Not many in sight.

He is sincere and natural,

Shows truth and worth.

He has straight forwardness and candor

Sprinkled with mirth.

 

A man with self respect

Who holds fidelity high,

For he values moral strength

And he does not lie.

He is strong in his faith,

Does what is right.

He is principled and true

And keeps virtue insight.

He owns confidence and soundness,

Trustworthiness and morality,

 

And his faithfulness

He displays with probity.

He shows frankness and openness

And speaks no wrath.

He has reliability

And finishes his task.

 

He has respectability

With a conscience to guide,

And to God Almighty

He daily confides.

He is conscientious,

Leaves no stone unturned.

All his values,

Through the “Good Book” learned.

He has courage to stand

For what he believes,

And all of his character

Others perceive.

 

What best describes him?

Is just one word…

 

“INTEGRITY”

 

Is how his actions are heard.

 

INTEGRITY—what you do

When no one else sees,

And when you live like this man,

Your soul is free.

 

Uncle Buddy’s FIRST PLACE AWARD CERTIFICATE SAYS:

“WE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU FOR YOUR LOVE FOR YOUR FAMILY AS WELL AS YOUR DEPENDABILITY AND STRONG WORK ETHIC.  YOU ARE A MAN OF INTEGRITY.”

 

I LOVE YOU UNCLE BUDDY!  YOU WILL ALWAYS HAVE A PLACE IN MY HEART.

THANK YOU UNCLE BUDDY FOR ALWAYS BEING SO KIND TO ME.

THANK YOU TOO FOR THE OLD WINDOWS FROM THE OLD FARMSTEAD.  I CHERISH THEM BECAUSE THEY WERE GIVEN TO ME BY YOU.

Lord, thank You for Uncle Buddy.

Thank You Lord for showing me how a family can love each other so deeply when they didn’t know how to speak the words “I love you”.

Thank You Father that You placed me in our family.

Thank You Lord for your protection this day.

Thank You that my spleen is not fractured.

Thank You for Tylenol.

All of the above was written and/or compiled yesterday August 10^th.  Now it is the 11^th and the day once again escaped me.  I was busy all day doing that which needed to be done earlier this week after returning home from a trip.  I had appointments to attend, food shopping to do, a toenail removal (pre-scheduled weeks ago), and a food box to disperse and care for.  And the day sneaked away again.  It was a long, arduous, 90 degree day.  Left by 8:00 a.m. this morning and other than dropping by the house to drop off food products, I did not arrive home to stay until after 5:00 p.m.  That is when I was finally able to take care of all the farm produce that was delivered today.

 

THANK YOU SO MUCH

By Kathleen Martens

August 11, 2016

 

Thank You so much

For reading these words.

Some may seem familiar

Some never heard.

 

My purpose and intent

Is to share with the young,

Who may someday be interested

To understand whom they’re from.

 

The good and the bad

And the ugly too,

Facts should be known,

For the true story to come through.

 

Just do your best

With what you have to work

And listen to the aged,

From their words do not shirk.

 

For much wisdom will come

When you follow God’s path,

As you walk in God’s way

Your legacy will last.

 

So that your children too

Will share love joy and peace

That will extend to the future

As a legacy, that does not cease.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND MAY MANY BLESSINGS BE YOURS!

 

 

Wednesday August 10 2016  A PICTURE OF TODAY

Well, guess what.  I have written Uncle Buddy’s biography and have all the writing accomplished but it is too late to proof.  So…I will give you a picture of my day and you will see why I must go to bed.  Tomorrow I will proof, and today you will have a short reprieve.

Today was set aside to have the septic tank pumped.  It must be done every three years or we will be fined.  So I set the appointment way ahead, planned my day so I could be home all day as it was my Wednesday off from the gym.  The time for the pumping is never scheduled, just the date.

Since I was gone for a week I decided to work out a bit today to make up for time loss.  Dave and I had it worked out to cover the day.  Well, I woke up in such pain that I again called the doctor and He wanted me to come in.   After the examination the doctor suspected I might have a bleeding spleen from my fall last week.  Between blood work, x-rays of my ribs (which confirmed three very broken ribs), urine testing and a thorough investigation of the rest of my bruises and painful areas, I was set up to have an MRI done across town.  Dave rescheduled his day so he could take me and off we went.  That took up most of our afternoon.  Then I had to prepare, and eat a late lunch and did not have enough time to both write and proof a blog. 

Rather than send you a rough draft I think it is best to put some time into Uncle Buddy’s story and present something I won’t be embarrassed publishing. 

 

ANOTHER DAY UNPLANNED

By Kathleen Martens

August 10, 2016

 

So that is the day

Of my best laid plans,

To do absolutely nothing

Except to write about a man.

 

It is always so fun

To write the stories I write,

But I don’t always get done

Because the clock I fight.

 

The hands just keep ticking

And my fingers scurry

Across the keyboard licking

To type in a hurry.

 

And there is always a bit more

Of which I think to impart,

And proofing is a bore

From which I’d like to depart.

 

So perhaps tomorrow night

Will go as planned

And I will be able to write

As the day expands.

 

So good night dear friends.

I do hope you return,

Because a new story I’ll send

To make your ears burn.

 

Thank You Lord that my spleen is intact.

Thank You for people who are willing to pump septic tanks!

And thanks again for flushing toilets.

Thanks for insurance and even Medicare.

THANK YOU GOD FOR WHO YOU ARE!

Thanks for Kale.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU

 

 

Tuesday August 9 2016  A PICTURE INTO THE PAST: MARY HATTIE BELL

There is sort of a ring (no pun intended) to the name MARY HATTIE BELL.  I wish I knew its full origin.  There is usually a story of some kind when we tag our children with their names.  I suppose “Mary” may have been named after her grandmother, Mary Edith.  I do not know the derivative of Hattie, nor the Bell.  I do know that Bell was and still is a popular name in the south. 

“Hattie”, the name I knew her as, was four months shy of her second birthday when Helen died so I doubt if Hattie had any memory of Helen.  So many questions I wish I could go back and ask my departed aunts and uncles.  I know many stories of their growing up years have long been left unsung.  I believe that life must have been so difficult living with their father that many buried the pain with their tucked away memories.  Only a few of my 8 aunts ever discussed their childhood with me.  For some it was just too difficult to bring up.

The first recollection I have of Aunt Hattie was when she was already “very old”, she must have been at least 34 years old, and that was ancient to me.  The timeline of my early years is blurry to me but I do remember when my cousins lived across the street from us.  During this time we lived in an old drafty house that seemed menacingly large to me.  Aunt Hattie and Uncle Floyd and all their children lived across the street in the projects.  These projects were in Richmond, California instead of in Rodeo, California.  After World War II the military workers moved back to home towns and the plethora of government housing became available as low-cost housing.  During these years my Uncle Harce and Aunt Estell came to California with their two children in tow following the end of the war.  My sister informed me that Harce and Estell lived in the San Joquine valley for a period and then moved up north to Richmond, California which is in the San Francisco Bay Area. I think they too, lived in one of the apartments by the time we migrated there and had one more daughter by that time.  A couple of years later they had another daughter.

The apartments, if I remember them correctly, were quite cramped and small, even to a child.  The apartments provided a roof overhead and that was what counted!  Estell and Harce had 2 children when they migrated from Arkansas, we had 5 kids at that time and from what I’ve been told, we all lived together in one of those small apartments.  Later, our family settled in an old house on Steege Street.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Hattie, Floyd and their five children also lived with Harce and Estell at one time or another.  Harce and Estell’s open door generosity was usually the first stomping ground of all the family members who migrated from Arkansas to California looking for a better life.   It was the GRAPES OF WRATH in motion; my family being one that came, uneducated, barefoot, and with a passel of young’uns hanging onto their mama’s apron strings, hoping for a better life.   I was totally oblivious to the hardships endured.  And it was me, the baby at that time that probably made it even more difficult to live in such cramped quarters.

I don’t know who migrated first, our family or Hattie’s family.  Eventually they lived across the street from us and I had a best friend in my cousin Paul Michael.  We were both preschool age and spent many hours together under the back porch digging to China.  My earliest memory of Hattie’s clan has more to do with the kids than with knowing who Hattie was in relationship to me.  She was just “another” aunt and I was discovering that I had a lot of aunts.  Paul Michael’s brother Steven was born about that time and I am sure Hattie had her hands full.

Over the years I became better and better acquainted with Aunt Hattie and always perceived her as being quite bossy, having control of what was going on around her, and always, always, working so hard.  She worked as hard as any man I ever saw.  And the other thing I remember about her was regardless of how little she had, she was always willing to share it with others.  She had a brusque demeanor to us little kids, but we knew she loved us.  I pretty much stayed away from Uncle Floyd however, because I knew he gave his kids some good lick’ins.  Hattie had a few high spirited kids in her mix and of course I was always aghast at the things I overheard while playing under the quilt frame as our mama’s quilted.  You bet your bottom dollar that if you are talking and your little ones are present (especially when you are NOT talking to them) they have antenna ears.  We even had supersonic hearing back then and we knew how to be real quiet all at once so we could hear their hushed tones through the thickness of the quilt above our heads as we sat on the floor amongst several pairs of legs hanging beneath their long dresses. 

Though I seemed to get along with all my aunts, I sometimes didn’t see eye to eye with my cousins.  And it was always fun to hear the juicy gossip.  Aunt Hattie was always kind and I knew she loved me in her own matter of fact, bossy way.  And boy, did she know how to get things done!

As I became an adult and had opportunities to be around Aunt Hattie she became one of my favorite aunts.  I think every aunt became a favorite aunt as I grew up.  Our relationships changed and I loved any and all history they could give me about our family.  My interest in the genealogy of our family grew as I matured and some Aunts were very helpful by telling me stories of the past and others were closed mouthed about their childhood.  I am still gleaning information from them even after all these years.

I saw in Hattie a spark of life that I believe had never been allowed to surface until it finally spilled over as she aged.  I saw an excitement and exuberance come alive in her.  She seemed to have the spunk of a young woman and she shared her joy in so many ways with others.  I still have a beautiful set of Monkey Sock Dolls that she made for me many years ago.  She was an avid gardener, cook, canner, and talker.  I think she could out-talk me!  I loved her spirit.

She also weathered many hardships.  Her son, my favorite boy cousin who helped me dig to China under the back porch, eventually became a Vietnam War Veteran.  He had a great loss of love in his life and took his own life right after Mother’s day one year.  I know that was extremely difficult for Hattie.  It was a sad time for our entire family.  We all loved Paul Michael so much.  Paul had a gentle soul and a sweet demeanor.

So, as you can see, life wasn’t easy for Mary Hattie Bell, third daughter born to William Ellis.  I will now share the short biography I wrote for her for that I shared at the 2011 Family Reunion.  I asked her children to tell me what Hattie should be best remembered for.  Her FIRST PLACE AWARD CERTIFICATE SAYS:  “for BIGGEST HEART!  We also remember her for her strength and determination.  She never looked at the bad side of life.  She fought a good fight!”  And I agree with every word!  Aunt Hattie was truly one of a kind!

BIOGRAPHY BELOW WRITTEN IN 2011 (With one correction as to the cause of her death)

MARY HATTIE BELL  1922-1988

Children:

Joyce

Linda

Jimmy

Mary

Paul

Steven

“Hattie was a strong character in her roll of life.  She too weathered some storms and worked hard to help her family through some lean times.  She was devoted to her family.   She was a woman of strength and determination.  She fought a good fight!  She was always able to put food on the table and she could make a feast with very little makings.  She was strong and enduring and never looked at the bad side of life.

Hattie was loving and caring to siblings and generous with the fruits of her labor that came from her garden.  She would send her kids to a neighbor’s house with a cardboard box full of garden produce and have them knock on the door and then run away so the family would not know where the food had come from.  She did not want to hurt their dignity.  She could always find someone that had less than her family and made certain they had food to eat if she was able to provide it.

At times she worked outside the home.  She was employed by Mount Diablo Hospital.

Hattie had the creativity that runs in this family.  She gardened, sewed everything her family needed, cooked, and she created ribbon roses.  She was an avid quilter and received great satisfaction when she completed her creation.  Best of all, her son stated, “she could stretch a dollar farther than anybody until you could hear it snap”.  She will lovingly be remembered for her Monkey stocking dolls.  

Hattie went home to be with the Lord in 1988 after a long illness *due to an inherited genetic blood disorder.  We still miss you Aunt Hattie after all these years of being without you.  You were always so full of life and vitality!”   

*Originally the text stated that the blood disease was caused by a blood transfusion.  I was informed on Sunday by her daughter Joyce that it was actually caused from an inherited genetic blood disorder.

 

SHE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT

Mary “Hattie” Bell

Kathleen Martens

April 2, 2011

 

An Amazing woman, strong and bold.

She battled some hardships, so I’m told.

So full of life, and energy galore.

She worked like a man, and talked even more.

 

Excitement in her eyes telling her story,

I imagine that God is now listening in glory.

Always so busy with children and home,

Or out in her garden working in loam.

 

Her garden gave life; food for so many.

She was so giving yet frugal with a penny.

Her kids never hungry, she worked hard to provide,

And with generosity she’d always divide.

 

She quilted and sewed and made monkey faces.

And two of those critters, my home still graces.

She had such zest just for living,

And suffered decline when bad diagnosis was given.

 

And through her illness she cherished each hour,

A hard journey to heaven but God gave her power.

We miss you Aunt Hattie; your personality with zest!

No matter what you did, You gave it your best!

 

Today’s poem:

 

LONG AGO MEMORIES

By Kathleen Martens

August 9, 2016

 

What glimpses of time

In memory confined?

Memories of past

Seem better to last.

 

Yesterday is gone

As if scattered on lawn

Thoughts come and go

But where, I don’t know.

 

Reminiscing brings pleasure

In unending measure.

And my joy is to share

So others can care.

 

Long ago days

In languid thought,

No need to hurry

Worry or scurry.

 

Little smiles tucked here and there

And so easy they are to share.

When I bring them to mind

They are easy to find.

 

Like little jewels

Of handy tools,

When they are needed

My bidding is heeded.

 

And so I cherish

Before I perish

To give without cost

Before memories are lost.

 

Lord, thank You that I can still recall some memories of the past.

Lord, thank You for the amazing brain which you created.

Thank You God for Your concern for each person in our vast family.

Thank You for all the people You put in my life to make it so rich.

Thank You for each aunt, each uncle, each cousin, and all the in-laws.

Thank You for this very moment in which I live.

Thank You for plumbers.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU.

 

Monday August 8 2016  THE SECOND MONDAY

I am back on the keyboard writing my blog.  Following is the saga of this past week.  Dave and I skipped town and I did not take the necessary equipment to publish my blog.  I wanted to be footloose and fancy free.  But could I actually get away from writing?  No I could not.  The hotel had a computer so I wrote my sister an email each day and I have included them here.  It is the story of our week from my perspective.  Tomorrow I will return to the series A PICTURE INTO THE PAST.

I warn you that it is long.  I hope it will be interesting to you.  Please let me know if you make it to the end.

Tuesday August 2 2016  ON A JOURNEY

Here I sit at the computer at the Holiday Inn in Covington Kentucky.  I know I promised that I would not write a blog for a few days.  My “blog vacation” is to be until Monday of next week.  We have been planning this trip for the past several months and it is our first bus tour outing.  WE HAVE ARRIVED!  We are finally old enough that we understand the joys of being with other “like-minded” retirees as well as not having to experience long tedious hours behind the wheel.  The hours are never tedious to me, but for some I can understand how they would be.

Every day is a new adventure for me.  No matter how mundane, how monotonous repetition can become, or how tired I get; to live another day is a gift I receive with gratitude.  And sometimes the days can seem quite long.

Yesterday was Monday, the day before we were to leave.  I had finished packing my suitcase by 11:00 a.m.,  my ironing was finished (yes, I iron my clothes before I pack them), and I had made good inroads on preparing the food I wanted to take with me.  Soon it was time to prepare for lunch, go to the store for grapes, go to the gym for a couple of hours and then come home and finish up the trip preparations, shower and get to bed by 9:00. 

Remember my question, “Does anything ever go as planned?”   Dave had a sprinkler rotating around the yard most of the day to prepare for our absence.  Later he did a couple of loads of laundry, and then, before I got in the shower we decided to run the dishwasher.  Well, after I was soaped up I could tell the water pressure was dropping.  I quickly rinsed off and turned the shower off.  My shower hadn’t even begun until after 10:00 p.m. so you can tell I was already off schedule.  I told Dave about the low water pressure and suggested he wait until morning for his shower.  He went right to bed and was asleep in minutes.  The dishwasher had not finished.  Since we never go anywhere, including to bed, until the cycle is over I volunteered to stay up and take care of it.

When I have a few spare moments I always find something to do.  I worked a bit more doing final prepping for our 3:30 a.m. wake up.  About 11:30 p.m. I was pretty much finished so I turned on the faucet to wash my hands only to find out that we had NO WATER.  Only air came out.  Uh Oh!  I didn’t like the thought of that.  I had a hunch that something was not working with our well pump.  I found a phone number on the pump control cover and gave the number a call at about 11:45 P.M.  And believe it or not, someone answered.  I followed his instructions to restart the well but did not work.  So…you guessed it, they couldn’t do anything for me until morning.  One slight problem, we wouldn’t be here in the morning.  And of course the clock was ticking.  It took awhile for the plumber to return my emergency call (he was in bed sleeping), and then it took time for us to do some sleuth work about restarting the pump, and then it took more time for in conversation.  We were cut off at one point and he called me back.  After I answered I heard Dave coming into the basement concerned about hearing the phone ring.

One look at Dave peering into the laundry room and I knew he was about dead to the world standing there in his skivvies.  He asked what was going on and I told him the pump was out, to go back to bed, and I would take care of it.  He said Okay, no questions asked, no explanations given.  It was almost comical.  I checked on him a few minutes later and he was sound asleep.  After all was said and done I was told nothing more could be done until the next day.  I retired to bed at almost 1:00 a.m. and was then wide awake.  I did get about 90 minutes of sleep before the alarm went off.  When we drove out of the driveway we were only 4 minutes behind.  Dave never did get a shower.

After the plumber came today and looked things over we received the report that we will need to have a new well pump installed.  The plumber was finally able to get the well started but it went off again.  He started it again.  This time it stayed on for awhile. We will wait until we get home to decide when to have it replaced.  If it stops again it will be replaced immediately, but if possible we would like to wait until mid September so the perennials can go dormant and have less damage and stress involved as the heavy machinery rolls over our flowerbed and lawns.  Dave has worked so long and diligent on creating border edgings between lawn and ornamental plants.  We last had the pump replaced in 1995 so it is not surprising that it is time to do so again.  Phone calls, reports, and conversations with the plumber peppered our first day on the road.  I’m just glad I wasn’t driving.

We had a bus with more seats than passengers so I chose to go crawl into the last two seats on the bus; most people were closer to the front.  I borrowed a pillow from another lady, wrapped myself up in the full sized blanket I had toted along, and fell asleep.  I almost missed the rest stop interlude because I didn’t even know the bus had stopped.  I felt great the rest of the day following that 90 minute nap.  My body needed it.  And you know what; I never did get upset, frustrated, or a “woe is me” attitude.  Instead I was so thankful that we were home when the pump failed.  I was thankful that it didn’t cause an electrical fire.  Just another day that didn’t go as planned.  It was still marvelous to be alive because I always remember that it is God who holds my hand.

Cincinnati, Ohio is a beautiful city.  Our Hotel is across the Ohio River, adjacent to the downtown area.  The fellow passengers on the bus are delightful and I thoroughly look forward to becoming acquainted with more of them over the next several days.  We arrived safely on a beautiful day of sunshine.  The outlying country is as beautiful as Wisconsin, lush green fields, corn waving in the breeze, and grains flourishing by the acres.  And lots, and lots, of trees.  We will be transported to Williamstown Kentucky tomorrow to view the new exhibition of the life-sized replica of Noah’s Ark, which is a wooden structure built on land with the same dimensions as described in the Bible.  I shall write more tomorrow, but if these emails to myself are ever published it will be quite a time after the event took place.  I did not bring my computer, or my camera.  I did not want to lug them around so I could lie back and smell the roses.  AND NO BLOG WRITING!  Well, technically I am not writing a blog, I am writing myself an email.  And maybe I’ll send it to my sister as well.

 

ALL IN A DAY

By Kathleen Martens

August 2, 2016

 

A day goes

Like the wind blows,

Willy and nilly

And sometimes silly.

 

Another day may contrive

Twist and turns to make you thrive.

And so many unknowns

Some days are shown.

 

But it matters not

You receive the unsought,

What comes, comes,

So no need to run.

 

Stand up and face

Whatever the race,

And be content

With circumstances sent.

 

Do what you must do

To make it through,

And you will find

Each day a gold mine,

 

Thank You God for a safe trip today.

Thank You for an awesome bus driver.

Thank You for the people you are allowing me to get to know.

And thank You Lord that You have given me strength so I can do all things through you.

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU

 

Wednesday August 3 2016  YOU MUST SEE IT TO BELIEVE IT!

What an absolutely amazing day!  Sunup to sunset has been full to overflowing with new experiences, sights, sounds, and awesomeness.  Dave and I are so glad that we participated in this Prime Time Excursion to take part in our first Senior Citizen bus tour.  Even though my years and wrinkles speak loud and clear and I am a card carrying, Medicare senior citizen, my heart tells me differently.  Not only is it fun to be part of the graying crowd, it is also a delight to get to know the other “Prime Timers”.  After a couple of days in the confines of traveling together our guards come down, and we all realize, we are who we are, and no pretense needed.  To tell you the truth I have never truly believed that I have been taken seriously as an adult.  I remember turning 50 years old and wondering if I was now grown up.  I have come to the conclusion, no, I am not grown up, never have been, and at this late date, I don’t think I ever shall be.  I’ll just let other people think I am already entering my “second childhood” when the truth is, I never left my first.  It’s a fun place to be.

Our first stop was to visit Noah’s Ark built in the dimensions stated in the Bible.  It is beyond breathtaking, even at first glimpse from a distance.  The closer we got the more impressive it became, And then to walk up next to it and look up, that was simply staggering.  The rendition of Noah’s Ark is amazing from the outside but the outside doesn’t hold a candle stick to what was inside.  The magnitude of the support beams, the massive timbers, the roominess, and the 3.1 million board feet of lumber that was used to build it, staggers the visual senses.  As I walked up floor after floor of layout designs of cages, and storage, living quarters, and internal water ballast system, I was awe struck to think that Noah, along with his three sons could even build such a structure such as the ark in 120 years.

As the Bible describes the years it took to build such a design I never imagined the detail of the hand work that would be involved.  So much attention was given to detail.  I even wondered how it was even possible to build such a ship with our modern day accessories, tools, and computer sciences.  It is past phenomenal.  You would need to see it to believe!

Just as God brought the animals to the Ark, God also brought those whom were to be involved in the project to Ken Ham, the man who had the vision to build it.  A Christian designer and builder of Hollywood sets asked to be the designer.  Mr. Ham told him the Ark was already designed but he could be the lead architect.    Later the builders showed up without being asked.  The ark was built by teams of rotating Amish craftsmen who worked with hand tools.  The magnitude of the beams alone is just mind staggering.   The ark’s cost was $100 MILLION DOLLARS. 

Dave and I had lunch on an outside terrace while on the grounds of Noah’s Ark.  We then finished our tour and met back at the bus to go back to the hotel to drop off those who chose not to attend the afternoon festivities.  About 15 people stayed behind and the rest of us went on a tour of Cincinnati.  Cincinnati is a city of bridges.  The bridges crossing the Ohio River have a long, varied history unique to each bridge.  I could go on and on about all I saw but will refrain from doing so since I can’t remember the names of the places and have no time to look them up.  You just need to take my word for it and plan a trip for yourself.  Cincinnati is a beautiful and amazing jewel to discover.

We then went back to the hotel, picked up those we left behind and headed back to the Ohio River to board a large boat for a river cruise.  We were treated to live music, dinner on board, and we had quit a rip roaring time after dinner. 

The hotel computer was already in use when I returned and thus I am writing later than usual.  It is way past my bedtime and another day awaits me tomorrow.  And for some reason my text has a weird red line under about half of the lines and I don’t know if it will send copy the red line in my saved text.  Don’t ask me what it’s for because I do not know.  I may have bumped a button by accident and caused it to happen. 

 

OH MY GOODNESS

By Kathleen Martens

August 3, 2016

 

Oh my goodness

What am I thinking?

I almost closed out

Without even winking.

 

No poem yet written

So I cannot end!

Red line or not

I truly must send.

 

My poem to be short

After such a long day,

And to bed

I must make my way,

 

Tomorrow looms quickly

And the clock will sing

“It’s time to arise

As a new day I bring.”

 

So I bid you farewell

As I trot off to bed,

And will sleep the deep sleep

Of the living dead.

 

Good night sister dear

You’ll be the one tonight

That I send these words,

As cyberspace takes flight.

 

Thank You God for Your protection over our day.

Thank You that my heart is young and I enjoy living every single day.

Thank You for all the wonderful people who I am becoming acquainted with.

Thank You for joy.

Thank You again for prunes.

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU!

 

Thursday August 4 2016  FLAT ON MY FACE

 Anticipating an exciting day ahead I determined that I would not be late for the bus when it left at 8:30 a.m.  But, this old age memory is at fault for a lot of things so I’ll just blame what happened to my brain.

 Dave and I are almost to the foyer of the hotel when I remembered that I didn’t remember to grab my sunglasses.  I gave Dave my bag and took off at a RUN (a literal run) to retrieve my glasses.  My sandal caught on the carpet and I was thrown into a forward propulsion of speed.  My feet were trying to keep up but I guess I was too top heavy and gravity got the best of me.  I went SPLAT, face forward, nose first, right down on the floor.  WHAMO!  CRACK! AND TOTAL QUIET.  Slammed my nose flat out, heard something snap, (thinking it was my glasses), and just lay there as still as a mouse.  A bit stunned but unsure what the damage might be. 

 One old woman prostrate on the floor, face down, not moving, and I hear someone trying to help me up.  I told them I thought I was okay but to give me a moment to access myself.  I was still and quiet until I heard someone holler, “Call 911.”  Still not moving I sternly said “ABSOLUTELY DO NOT CALL 911.  I’m leaving on a bus.  I just need to do an assessment”.  I gingerly turned over.  My neck seemed fine, my nose throbbed, my eye orbits burned from the skid, my left side felt like I had been hit by a bowling ball, and my nose was bleeding.  The left side of my abdomen and stomach had taken the brunt of the fall, landing on my fanny pack with three full bottles of water in it.  Again, someone wanted to pull me up.  “Nope, still doing my assessment,” I said.  When I decided (less than 2 minutes in total) I felt it was okay to get up.  By this time Dave had been summoned from the bus and he and the bus driver helped me stand. Then I ran lickety split back to the room to fetch my sunglasses.  And all that time, my sunglasses were safely stored in my fanny pack, which I had just landed on.

 My nose is bruised, my side a bit sore, and I’ve since discovered that I probably cracked my two ribs loose again on the same side I did three years ago.  However that was accessed later when I tried to lie back in a Star Gazer light show at the Creation Museum so I could watch a production on the ceiling.  Oh well, all said and done, I had a great day at the Creation museum.

 More about the Creation Museum later.

 

ONE OLD MARE

By Kathleen Martens

August 4, 2016

 

Lickety split

My world changed.

All because

My memory refrained

 

From reminding me

What I needed to know,

And that created

A spectacular show.

 

One old mare

Galloping down the hall

And her open shoes

Caused her to fall.

 

All is well

That ends okay.

Maybe tomorrow

Will be an even better day.

 Again Lord, thank You for Your care and concern for me.

Thank You for the experience of the Creation museum

Thank You for life.

Thank You for green apples.

 

VFM (My sister)

 These are your private blogs at present so I can write a note.  I only had 30 minutes to write this.  Bus is leaving again and I must go.  We are going out to dinner and I am never hungry at the right time.

 Love,

Wkm

 

 

Friday August 5 2016  THE JOURNEY HOME

 I was not late for the bus this morning!  There was no way in the world I would risk it.  After three days of busy activity I was ON THE WAY HOME.  I discovered that I enjoy bus travel.  This bus and bus driver may have spoiled me a bit however.  The bus had quite a few vacant seats and we could spread out so we were not so cramped.  Dave and I split up because I wanted to sit in the back of the bus so I could be close to the restroom.  That way I wouldn’t have to walk down the long aisle so many times.  Dave chose to sit toward the middle of the bus.  Thus, we both had two seats.

 My legs are short and often do not reach the floor when I sit down in chairs and seats.  If you have never had this probably then you have no idea how painful it can become behind the knees and in the spine after an extended period of time.  I brought on board an insulated bag with “real” food in it.  My bag was just the right height to prop my feet on.  And the plus side was that I had my food at my “toe tips” instead of at my fingertips!  I could then snack whenever I chose to do so.  It also gave me a world’s eye view because my window was unobstructed and the back seats were higher than all the other seats.  I also enjoyed standing up and walking up and down a few rows of seats that were not occupied and thus not disturb anyone.

 The bus driver was an amazing man.  He turned that long, wide, Badger Bus through perilous mazes, corners, back-ups, curves and rush hour traffic better than I ever thought humanly possible.  He was kind, friendly, helpful, and just an all round nice guy.  His amazing skill put me at ease. 

 

THE BUS DRIVER

By Kathleen Martens

August 5, 2016

 

A comfortable coach

In which to ride,

And a great driver

In whom to confide.

 

Walking into the unknown

Not knowing what to expect,

It was soon apparent to me

Our river was a man to respect.

 

Mr. Sammy Williams

Dressed to the nines,

With everything ready,

And always on time!

 

Extremely efficient

Confident and careful,

He was exemplary,

As well as quite prayerful.

 

He commanded the roads

With carefulness of space.

I knew He was covered

With God’s grace.

 

We thank you kind sir

For the help we received.

You have converted me

To bus tourism I believe.

 

But there is one thing

I’d like you to know,

YOU MUST BE THE DRIVER

WHEREVER I GO!

 

Always a smile

On your wonderful face,

And a confident grasp

As down the steps we raced.

 

All your kind gestures,

Unnoticed they are not.

A man of your talent

Significantly sought.

 

We thank you so much

For all you have done.

You had a great part

Making our week fun.

 We left the hotel at 8:30 a.m. and arrived at the church parking lot to transfer to our cars by 5:30 p.m.  We arrived home by 6:30 p.m.  YEAH!  We had water…FOR ABOUT 10 MINUTES!  And then the well shut off again.  More phone calls and the earliest appointment is for Saturday morning.  So, here we are once again without water.  I went next door to scrub the day’s travel off my hands so I could fix dinner.  No showers available tonight, but I will heat some water so we can soak our eyes and wash our faces before bedtime.

    We decided to wait until Monday to have our new pump installed because it will be so much more expensive if it is scheduled on a weekend.  We were not given a confirmation for a Monday appointment because there could possibly be another emergency call at that time.  I was baffled.  I asked him if ours was not already an emergency.  We went ahead and made an appointment to have the plumber come tomorrow to see if he could get the well started again as a stop-gap until Monday.  Oh well, life is life.  Even when he comes out it won’t guarantee that our pump will last longer than 15 minutes or that we’ll even have it installed by Monday.

 So, I went to bed.

Lord, thank You for our safe return. 

Thank You God for running water.

Thank You for the energy to last through this day.

Thank You for toilets that will flush again.

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU!

 

 Saturday August 6 2016  BLOSSOMING PAIN

 So I am told that the third day is the worst.  That is, the third day after my fall I will feel the full brunt of my injuries.  And they grow. The day I fell I actually felt okay once I conquered the internal swelling of my nose.  Cold water bottles held on it for a while following the fall help a lot to keep the swelling and bruising down.  I must admit, I do have a beautiful blue nose bridge that brightens up my face but the swelling has gone down considerably.

 The bruises on the rest of my body have blossomed in the interim of the past three day.  My knees are decorated, my abdomen is quite festive, my rib area is bruised with dots, my arms are spotted with circles of discoloration, and almost every part my body hurts.  I am extremely sore, throbbing pain in some areas, dull aches in others, and sharp shooting stabs of discomfort when I move a bit in the wrong direction. 

 After unpacking I collapsed into bed last night by 11:00 p.m.  I slept deeply until 3:00 p.m.  I was unable to go back to sleep due to severe pain in my knee.  Worse than the pain in my knee was the pain in my ribs when I tried to turn over. 

 Before I went to sleep I called the nurse on call for a consultation.  She instructed me to go to the Emergency Room.  I refused.  She then instructed me to go into urgent care on Saturday morning.  Again I said no.  Urgent care has made too many incorrect diagnoses on our family members.  So the nurse on call checked to see if there were any doctors who had an appointment still available for Saturday.  She found one last appointment and set it up for me.  I promised to go the next morning.  And so I did.

 I have separated two or three floating ribs from the cartilage (a repeat injury).  I have soreness and contusions from the fall, my nose is probably not broken as it looks good from the inside, I am bruised and contused, and stiff, and sore, and the doctor recommend pain relievers.  The strongest I will take is Tylenol.  So when I arrived home I did just that.  I actually even rested for a half hour.  The verdict is; I survived the fall and must now limit my exercise to doing only that which doesn’t exacerbate my pain.  Maybe I’ll just have to go to the gym and sit.  That is, as long as my feet will touch the floor.

 Now, let’s go back to the saga of the well.  We spoke with our son early this morning and he suggested rather than hiring the same company who put our last pump in 21 years ago we should get some additional bids.  So bright and early I called several other places.  Found a reputable, family run business in a little town about 40 minutes away.  Dave and I both liked what he had to say.  He (the owner) would come out today, as he was the one on call, and replace the well pump.  His company was much larger than the one we originally planned to go with.  AND WE WERE THE EMERGENCY!  I called the other business, told the man not to come and explained that we had another bid and it could be done today without costing time and a half.  We don’t have the bill yet but the total will probably amount to about half, or perhaps even less, than the first business I called.  Smaller town businesses almost always have better prices.  In our panic and need to leave town we didn’t have much time to do much calling at midnight last Monday night.

 While I went to the doctor’s office Dave waited for the plumber to come.  It took about four hours to install the pump.  His demeanor was great, he exuded confidence in what he was doing and explained everything he did.  He instructed us on how to operate the new pump, and told us how to determine by certain sounds and clicks if our pump was performing efficiently.  He also said our electricity bill should drop by about $30 dollars or more a month.  That is a great side benefit.  He will send someone out next week to make certain everything is working efficiently.  He will also collect a water sample for testing.  The water sample is required by law.  We do not drink or cook with well water because of living in the middle of farm country.  We are surrounded by crops.  And unfortunately pesticides are used.

 WE CAN NOW TAKE A SHOWER!  And the best part is we do not have to wait until Monday to find out if the other business has another emergency call before they can come out to service us.  

 

NEVER TAKE IT FOR GRANTED

By Kathleen Martens

August 6, 2016

 

Thank You God for running water

Let us never take it for granted.

How quickly messes accumulate

And my environment becomes so slanted.

 

And Thank You Lord that You have taught

Me how to not worry.

Such a gift to live in the moment

Without always needing to hurry.

 

And thank You Lord for the lesson taught,

That worry helps not one little bit!

And You always provide the solutions

That always seems to fit.

 

Thank You for the lessons learned

Of how difficult it must be,

To live in a country that is so poor

Running water they never see.

 

Teach me not to complain or fret

For the inconvenience of just a few days,

While so many in the world toil

Without running water EVER coming their way.

 

Thank You God for your provision.

Thank You for the opportunities of living in The United States.

Thank You also that we were able to find the right person to do our job.

Thank You for dishwashers.

Thank You for Cascade.

Thank You for toilets that flush.

Thank You that I survived my fall.

Thank You for a wise son.

 

 Sunday August 8 2016  A DAY OF REST (actually written Monday August 9, 2016)

 I was able to go to church yesterday.  Hopefully the soreness and pain is reaching its climatic proportions because yesterday was quite a rough day.  After lunch I slept for over three hours.  I then spent most of the afternoon lying prone on my back and it was lovely.  I received phone calls from some very close friends and thoroughly enjoyed my time down to talk on the phone.  Television and phone calls are very low on my average day’s agenda due to my schedule so it was such a pleasure to indulge.

 I snacked for dinner, put my eye paste in my eyes and climbed back into bed.  AND THEN I REMEMBERED!  I had not written a poem for the day.  Now that is something that is near and dear to my heart.  So I put my glasses back on (little could I see), retrieved my journal and sat down and scribbled out a quick poem.  Here it is:

 

MY PROMISE TO THE LORD

By Kathleen Martens

August 7, 2016

 

Time to retire.

My sleep has come.

My eyes are blurry

But I can still see some.

 

So I write to my Lord

With thanks in my heart

For this restful day,

And tomorrow’s new start.

 

Thanks you Lord for the reminder

That I not forget to give

My poem of love and sacrifice

To my Savior who lives.

 

Though my body is weary

From all my pain,

I know the lessons I learn

Will be for my gain.

 

I’ll gain knowledge and wisdom

As You reveal Your plan,

And with humbleness I come

To obey your commands.

 

As long as it is possible

I pray to remember my word

To write my promise to You

So Your voice will be heard.

 

 

After I finished the poem I made my way back to bed and slept over nine hours.  I am feeling better today.

 

 MY GIFT TO THE LORD TODAY

By Kathleen Martens

August 8, 2016

 

I close this long saga

With a poem of thanks

To the King of kings

Of the highest rank!

 

My Savior and Redeemer,

My provider and Friend.

He is always with me,

And His love He sends.

 

There aren’t enough words

That can speak my heart

In describing the glory of God,

And His magnificent art.

 

The amazing universe

In its infinite design

Speaks so perfectly

Of God’s timeline.

 

There is only one God

And He is the creator of all

And He planned a perfect world

Until sin caused the fall.

 

And though we now suffer

The consequences of sin,

Because of His Son’s death on the cross

Heaven’s gates open in.

 

He bids us to come

And to sit by His side

And when we leave this world

With Him we’ll abide.

 

Thank You Lord for your omnipotence.

Thank You Lord that Your creation is not a “THEORY”.

Thank You Father that your brought someone here to my house so I could give to someone today.

Thank You this time together with You.

Thank You again for watermelon!

 GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU.

 I HOPE SOMEONE MAKES IT THROUGH THIS “BOOK” BLOG TODAY.   At least if all goes well in publishing it I will have it for my record.