Old Photo's, Good Times and Laughter

The good looking guy in the photograph is my dad. He went to war and didn't come back. The things I know about him come from other people not from firsthand experience and that just blows. A daughter should not have to rely on distant memories from her father's childhood friends just to know her father. Thanks a lot, Vietnam. You can KMA!

I'm told he had a "different" sense of humour.....me, too. It is so hard to find people who share this kind of humour. I am fortunate to have two people in my life who get me, my daughter and my friend, Deb. I hope daddy had someone who got him. I can't imagine not having Rachael or Deb to laugh with over something totally inappropriate. Laughing is like eating for me, I can do it almost anytime and I'll bet daddy could, too.


One of his friends told me that daddy enjoyed a good time, a little too much (if you know what I mean). Any of my friends from days gone by would tell you the same thing about me. There was a time in my life when I didn't understand why anyone wouldn't want to party (if you know what I mean).....now I don't understand why anyone would want to. Thankfully, I outgrew all of that and I imagine that daddy would have, too.

I've also been told he was a bit of a ladies man. I'm not into girls, being one myself, but I can honestly say that a boyfriend (or husband) like mascara, is something I have not been without since I was 14 years old. I hope daddy had better luck with the opposite sex than I did as a young woman.

Just as I wanted to know how daddy lived, I wanted to know how he died. Mortally wounded in combat, as listed on the certificate of death just didn't cut it for me. I started asking questions. I was excited to learn there were a few books written with detailed accounts of the battle that took my daddy. One of them was made into a movie, "We Were Soldiers Once...And Young".

Daddy died in the Ia Drang Valley in Vietnam. I hope he died the minute the bullet hit him. The thought of him or any other young man lying on foreign soil slowly bleeding to death is too sad to think about. It's hard to make sense of it all so I don't even try. I just look at old photos and think of a smiling young man who liked to laugh while having a good time with the young ladies.

The Search for Sunday

Has anyone seen Sunday? I ain't seen a proper Sunday in so long that I am seriously considering filing a missing day report.

I was thinking about the happy Sunday's from my childhood and I can't remember anyone rushing off for a Sunday afternoon shopping trip as soon as the last AMEN was said. In fact it was just the opposite, we couldn't have shopped if we wanted to....stores were closed on Sundays. Nope, we didn't shop on Sundays. We visited with family or took naps after church.

To the best of my knowledge, nobody in the family worked on Sunday's either. Sunday was a day when things came to a temporary halt. Kinda like Christmas day is now but without the quik marts open on every corner. People didn't work because there weren't many jobs needing to be done that couldn't wait until Monday.

We didn't go to restaurants for a Sunday lunch. We ate at Grandmother and Granddaddy Holden's house with the rest of the family. If there was ever a time that grandmother decided to load everybody up and head to a restaurant instead of cooking Sunday lunch....I surely do not remember it. The women cooked, the men talked and the kids played and we all ate lunch together.

I've been trying to figure out how it happened. Sunday didn't just up and disappear all of a sudden. Had that been the case, I feel certain that an immediate search would have been launched resulting in Sunday being returned to it's rightful position asap. No, that's not how it happened. Sunday's disapearance was so gradual that folks just failed to take notice.

I guess how it happened isn't really that important. The concern now is whether or not Sunday will ever be found. I hope you will join me in the search for Sunday and if you happen to find him before I do, please let him know I miss him....... almost as much as I miss grandmother and granddaddy.

Play That Pomp and Circumstance

I need to take a break from writing about my family and the silly things that pop into my head and appear on this blog to write about something that is very important to me, children and education.


I think my desire to see kids be all that they can be, comes from getting older and realizing that I will never be what I could have been. There is one very simple reason for that and it is the lack of a good education. The opportunities were there I just lacked the motivation. I know motivation comes from within but nothing fuels motivation more than encouragement or incentive. Those are also two things that were missing in my early years.


I'm a firm believer that every child is gifted with a specific talent from birth. The trick is determining what that talent is, nurturing it and watching it flourish. Too bad our kids aren't born with labels, "future accountant or scientist in the making". Can you imagine the proud momma standing outside the nursery window, peering at her baby exclaiming, "See, that one, TOMORROW'S CELEBRITY, she's mine! How easy it would be to offer up a little encouragement if we knew the outcome would produce a superstar, a doctor or a famous writer. Guess what? It can. Encouragement and sincere praise are high grade fuel for motivating a child. Fill their think tanks with a generous dose of each one and watch them go, go, go!


I know a lot of people would disagree with me on this one but, I see nothing wrong with offering a little incentive in the form of a special treat or small amounts of cash to encourage good grades or extra effort on projects. It's just my opinion but I think it's good for kids to realize early in life that hard work has a pay day. They will realize the value of brain power and momma gets bragging rights when report cards are sent home.



It's going to be difficult to encourage your child if you don't know what's going on behind those classroom doors. I ask three questions almost everyday. "How was your day?". "Did anything happen I need to know about?" "Did you get back any test grades I should know about? (for us that's anything below an 85)".


I'm proud to admit I'm one of "those moms" that some at school complain about. My son is 17 and I don't hesitate to call the school if I have a concern. Yep, he should be more responsible but sadly, he's not there yet. He's still a work in progress. I don't let opinions of teachers or principals hinder me as I parent my child the best way I know how and neither should you. I'm a momma with a mission. I won't rest until my kids and yours are marching to the beat of "Pomp and Circumstance" and on their way to accept their degree.

The Real Housewives of Lauderdale County

After watching a variety of housewives being real I think it is high time Bravo brought it to my neck of the woods. I have several people in mind to star in the reality based show focusing on housewives in Lauderdale County. The world can get an in depth look at what it takes to be a rural southern woman and a real housewife.


People from all walks of life should know how difficult it is to walk in our house shoes. The camera's can follow us as we cook, clean, grocery shop, go to work,and chauffeur kids here and there. All the while recording a life long struggle with the constant humidity and how it affects our hair. Women outside of Lauderdale county will be appalled to see the steps we Lauderdale gals take to tame the frizzy hair brought on by the humid climate we endure. We don't wear headbands, scarves, hoodies, and caps to be cute. No, we had to find a way to control our hair so we could see to drive.

I definitely have to get my daughter in on this because we must have someone who is beautiful, intelligent and has a passion for shopping. Plus if I get her on the show, I think she might let me borrow one of her Coach purses to throw over my shoulder while I'm parading around in my housecoat and slippers. She will bring some youth and class to the show along with my two adorable granddaughters. She and I might at some point disagree and then we could bring in some family conflict for a couple of episodes before we hug and make up on national television sharing our private moment with the entire audience. Can every one say, "Awwww" while watching us dab at tear stained faces with a soft tissue held in a trembling hand? It's all about the drama and drama requires conflict, tears and finally resolution.

We're going to need an older woman. My Aunt Betty, would be perfect for that role. She can be the hottie over 60 who passes out advice and hugs, while the rest of us fight and back stab. She would be the housewife to run to if another housewife steals your last pink can of Aqua Net or makes a play for your man.

As a former victim of hair spray theft I can testify that it is absolutely devastating and it took me a long time to come to terms with the loss of a perfectly good can of Aqua Net. A support group would have been wonderful. That could be something worth pursuing on the show, a support group for women who are victims of hairspray theft. We could expand the group to support not only those who have been victimized with hair product theft but cosmetics, fragrances, girdles and bras. These types of crimes leave behind shattered lives that are difficult to rebuild without support from a firm foundation. I guess we could also muster up a little support for the housewife whose hubby took up with the twenty something year old waitress from Hooters.

Aunt Betty can cook up some of those delicious recipes we southern girls are famous for. I might come up with a few of my own. We can do lunch, potluck of course. This is Alabama, after all. Aunt Betty is really good at getting people together so she would be great at organizing events for all the housewives to show off their designer sweats and Converse sneakers. The wives could show up with their husbands or boyfriends or both depending on the situation. We'll have a few drinks and get a little rowdy when the sugar high from the sweet tea kicks in and then start slinging some mud.

We're going to need a few more cast members. Let's see so far, we have a classy middle aged woman and a hot young up and coming professional. We've filled the role of the sweet attractive older woman. We need at least 3 more housewives to make a show. I can provide a lot of interesting footage for the Real Housewives of Lauderdale County and will naturally emerge as a fan favorite but I will need to surround myself with other housewives who lead interesting lives.

If you live in Lauderdale County and are interested in appearing on the show please comment or email me and we'll see where it goes. Life here in Lauderdale County can be just as glamorous and dramatic as Beverly Hills if we give it our best shot. How about it ladies? Who's in?

Keep on Breathing

"But life's not the breath you take, the breathing in and out
That gets you through the day, ain't what it's all about
You just might miss the point trying to win the race
Life's not the breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away"


I was driving along this morning as this song was playing on the radio. I do love the way George Strait tells it like it is in this beautiful song. It made me think about my own "take your breath away" moments. I won't bore you with a list of things that my kids have done or been involved in that resulted in a "take my breath away moment. They're my kids, my moments and I don't think anyone is likely to appreciate them as much as I do. I have had a few breathless moments that didn't involve my kids that I want to share with you.


Several years ago my cousin, Kissy, had just been informed by her son, Damien's, doctor that his cancer had returned and that she only had a short time left with him. I cannot imagine the misery that she felt knowing each day was bringing him one day closer to death. I was at work one day shortly before Damien passed away when Kissy called. I'll never forget the anguish and desperation in her voice as she talked. It literally took my breath away when she said to me, "I don't know what I'll do when I can't be a momma anymore". I tried to find the words to comfort her but I could barely breath and those kind of words just don't exist.

A few weeks after Damien died Kissy and I were talking and I asked her if Damien had known that he was dying. She said they talked about paradise and what a wonderful place it would be. It took my breath away when she described a dream she had a few days after Damien passed away where he came to her and said, "It's just like you said it would be, momma". I know he was talking about paradise and he called her momma. Damien's way of letting her know he was in a good place and that even though he was gone, she would always be a momma.

Life is full of breathless moments.
Some moments are full of indescribable joy. You want to hold on for dear life and savour every second. These are the moments that will make you smile when you think of them years later.
Some moments are full of indescribable pain. You want to let go of the unbearable pain but at the same time you have an uncontrollable need to hang on because you know if you made it through the pain you can make it through anything. These are the moments that give you strength when you think of them years later. Both are moments that take your breath away.

Politicians....Try This!

Election day will be here in 2 weeks and I'm still looking for the perfect candidates to spend my vote on. Oh, I know in the big picture my one little vote doesn't amount to much but, I take it seriously.

It's kind of like going to the candy counter when I was little and having only one quarter to spend. I couldn't decide whether to get the hard candy that lasted for a long time or the Mallow cup which was gone in a short time. I liked them both but almost always went for the chocolate covered marshmallow treat which never lasted long enough and left me wishing I had invested in a candy that lasted longer.

I've only got one vote to cast and I want it to be a wise investment. I don't want my vote wasted on a piece of fluff with a good campaign manager and no substance. I'm looking for some old fashioned hard workers who firmly believe that nothing is beyond repair as long as you're in it it for the long haul. Young, old, career politician, farmer turned politician, whatever, I don't care as long as they are willing to work and are honest about their intentions. That's where things get complicated and I don't have to tell you why.

It's too bad candidates can't state their position and honestly intend on seeing it through, shake hands with their opponent and say "may the best man win". Oh no, that would make it too easy for the average voter. They have to muddy up the playing field with accusations, double talking, and other nonsense until we are all so confused that we consider staying home on election day.

Personally, I think our local boys could teach some of the big city politicians how to conduct themselves during a political campaign. The fellows in the Lauderdale County School Board race have tried a unique approach in their attempt to be elected. Would you believe they have had the audacity to be respectful and pleasant toward each other? In today's politcal arena that kind of behavior is unheard of.


The only problem is that out of the 4 only 2 will be elected and with that in mind I offer a unique solution to the dirty politics in other parts of the state. I say we pack up the 2 candidates who don't win a BOE seat and send them down to Montgomery to teach the good ole' boys how it's done.

Trick or Treat .......or Trick?

I remember a time when a Jack O Lantern was a real pumpkin with a face carved with a kitchen knife and a candle inside to make it glow at night. There were no fake pumpkins with hundreds of faces to choose from and a light bulb with a cord attached to light the dark night, beckoning trick or treaters to stop in and grab a Halloween treat.

Costumes were either a plastic mask with an elastic band that fit around the back of your head to hold it in place or some of your momma's make up and old clothes. We never really cared about the costume we just wanted some candy.

Momma would drive us around the area we lived, stopping only at the homes of people she knew. She would pull in the driveway and we would jump out and yell, "trick or treat, score some candy and occasionally a homemade cookie shaped like a pumpkin. That was the plan and we stuck to it faithfully until the year I strayed from our normal routine by reciting a catchy little rhyme I learned at school.

I can't help but laugh when I think about that Halloween night when momma pulled up to Mrs Opal Springer English's beauty shop which was located right behind her home. We jumped out of the car ran up to Ms Opal's back door... knock, knock, knock. Ms Opal opened the door and before I lost my nerve I belted out," Trick or treat, kiss my feet, give me something good to eat". The look on Ms Opal's face was enough to let me know I had picked the wrong person to try out my new found poetry reciting skills on. She was very clearly not impressed. The only thing left to do was get the candy and run.

And run I did back to momma waiting in the car with the windows rolled down where she had overheard every word of my rousing performance. I could tell from the look on here face and the tightly drawn lips that she was even less impressed with my performance than Ms Opal was. That was our last stop for the evening.

Momma never was much of a disciplinarian but Lord, she was a natural born lecturer. I can recall numerous occassions when I would have preferred a good whipping rather than listen to her go on and on and on and on and well,....... you get the picture.

That particular night, I was treated to an hour long lecture about how embarassed she was by my behavior and was repeatedly asked why I chose to do it at Opal's from the beauty shop because now, everybody was going to know all about it. She would ask why and before I could answer she was back to how embarrassed she was. I don't know where her sense of humour was because I thought it was a riot, despite the lecture and the abrupt end to the trick or treating which knocked a huge dent in the Halloween candy stash.

That was over 40 years ago and I've done my share of trick or treating since that night and never, not once have I told someone that was about to give me candy, "to kiss my feet and give me something good to eat". I learned the hard way that some folks just don't find their humour in the same places I find mine.

I don't worry so much about trick or treating etiquette these days. I just go directly to the source and buy my own candy. Cutting out the middle man leaves out the possibility of embarrassing momma. Well, that and the fact that the last time I tried trick or treating somebody called the police, who refused to believe that the house next door was passing out rolls of toilet paper instead of candy.