Can I eat this?

Several days before The Little Princesses’ first birthday she caught a small cold and suffered her very first illness of her first year of life. Not even so much as a cold up until this point. Of course, Mommy was cautious and carried her immediately to the doctor. She was afraid she might have an ear infection or something horrible, but that’s another story…

The Little Princess decided to share her cold with her mommy and daddy, and Granddaddy and I were called into duty to keep The Princess while her mommy was recuperating from her cold.

To get her out of the house, away from her mother to keep from spreading the germs back to Little Princess and also just to give mommy a much-needed break, Granddaddy and I took The Little Princess to the local cafeteria for lunch. She had been very good and mostly kept her food on the plate during her meal. (Grandmomma was a bit disorganized and not having been responsible for packing for a little one had managed to walk off without a bib or the little plastic table protector that we always use when we carry her out for a meal. We must use sanitized spaces for The Little Princess. No germs are allowed around The Little Princess if Mommy can help it. At least one thing we did remember to take was her oversized chair cover we must have to cover her high chair or buggy if we’re out shopping. We did have to make a trip back for that because we had taken her shopping at Sam’s earlier to entertain her before her naptime, and it was still in the car. Granddaddy had just forgotten to remind me of the little table cover and yep, you guessed it, her bib!)

After our meal Granddaddy went to the take-out order section to get some lunch for Mommy, The Little Princess got tired of sitting in her car seat and began to whimper and fuss a bit. What to do, what to do with a fussy baby?

Thinking I might need to fix some lunch at home for The Little Princess, I had stashed a sweet potato in the back pouch behind my car seat. I pulled it out and handed it to The Little Princess and told her that was her Sweet Potato Baby. She smiled the biggest smile and looked at it, feeling its smoothness and checking out its bright orange color. In her mind it really did become her Sweet Potato Baby. She would hand it back to me, and I would hold it in my hands and rock it like it was a baby. She would hold it for a while, then back to me. This entertained her until Granddaddy came back. The man parked in the car next to us must have thought somebody in that car had lost her mind.

Sometimes a little creativity and a few memories from your childhood goes a long way in keeping you from losing your mind. And it helps keep a modern baby happy. Who wants to argue with success?

Exploring her world

Saturday, November 24, 2007
An incident I remembered about The Little Princess that happened on Thanksgiving Day. After The Little Princesses’ Great Aunt and Great Uncle left, I was attempting to help her Mommy do a few little odds and ends so they could get out the door without too much more delay. I volunteered to fill the the kitty cats’ bowls of water and food. They might need extra nourishment and water while their master and mistress were away.

I heard The Little Princesses’ mommy call. I went to see what was so urgent. There sitting on the floor in front of the kitties’ food bowl was my sweet little Princess. One by one, piece by piece she was transferring the little bits of dry cat food from one bowl to the other. She wasn't interested in eating any of it; she just wanted to put it into the other bowl, piece by tiny piece.

I made a mad dash to find my camera. I made it back just in time to disrupt her fun. I think I missed the good pictures, but I followed her around to try to get some follow up ones. Just as I was snapping away The Little Princess picks up the bowl with the most food in it
and…there it goes…she tips it up, cat food scattering all over the floor! Camera was placed securely out of reach and Grandmomma proceeds to clean up the mess. After all, I was on duty at the time the mess was made.

The Little Princess walked all over it…with her little bare feet.
It didn’t seem to bother her at all until I mentioned it to her and sympathized with her. Then she felt it crunching and realized it was attached to her feet, and then she became a bit upset. Stop and clean the cat food from her sweet little feet and then it was back to following her around to see what she gets into next.

That’s one thing I love about her mommy. As long as it isn’t harmful , she lets her explore. So it takes a few more minutes of her day (more like hours when the time is all calculated), but The Little Princess is given the opportunity to discover the world around her. In my opinion, that’s very important for a child development. That’s the way she feels her world, sees her world, learns the world around her enjoys and progresses through her little life. Picking up cat food is a small task in comparison to the lessons The Little Princess is learning. Thank you Mommy, for realizing this and for being such a wonderful Mommy.

Pass the Pumpkin Pie, please...

Friday, November 23, 2007
The day after Thanksgiving Day. A few hours spent yesterday on Thanksgiving with The Little Princess, her Mommy, Daddy, my sister, her husband and my husband. It was a good day. A good meal, and fun fellowship. A time to watch The Little Princess try out new table food, such as cranberry sauce…umm didn’t like it too much. Must have been too tart for her little developing taste buds. She liked the turkey, but,that’s not really a new food for her. Grandmomma’s dressing wasn’t too tasty to her either. There was no special seasoning, so I can’t imagine what caused the dislike of my dressing. Oh well, maybe another year. She loved the sweet potato casserole; she’s accustomed to eating plain sweet potatoes, so that was no big surprise, either. Green bean casserole was accepted as just that…acceptable. Macaroni and cheese, nothing new to her either. Don’t know if she had a chance to eat any of the yummy Pineapple Casserole, but everybody else liked it. The bowl was almost clean when it was removed from the table. Mommy may have deemed that too sweet considering all we had. Well, the rest of us enjoyed all of the food from the looks of our plates. And we still had plenty to divide among us so that we all got at least another meal from it. Very good indeed.

We let the lunch settle a bit while Mommy and Daddy worked on packing their clothes for the trip to The Litte Princesses’ Great Granny’s house not far from an adjoining state. They were hoping to get on the road before The Little Princess had to take her afternoon nap because she had only slept 37 minutes to be exact in the morning. Mommy counts minutes, exactly, when it comes to naptime or lack thereof.

Then it was time for the Pumpkin Pie. A dessert that my kids wouldn’t have considering it Thanksgiving had we not had it each year. That and my homemade cornbread dressing. Sorry sweet Little Princess, you didn’t like my dressing. We’ll work on that.

As for the Pumpkin Pie, Granddaddy offered The Little Princess just a tiny smidgeon of his pie before he started eating his own. She wanted more…then more…then more… until Granddaddy had very little left on his plate. The Little Princess must have remembered the Pumpkin Patch we went to earlier. Now she knows how they good they taste.

How can you love spicy Pumpkin Pie and despise good ole cranberry sauce and that scrumptious cornbread dressing so much? I’m beginning to wonder who this child belongs to. Was she swapped at the hospital? I suppose half a battle won is better than a full loss, or maybe that’s a third of the battle won….Just keep passing that pumpkin pie!

Thanksgiving 2007

Today is Thanksgiving. Seems like time passes so fast lately. It was only yesterday we were celebrating Thanksgiving and now it’s here again.

I have so many things to be thankful for everyday, but since today was a day set aside for us to specifically stop to reflect on giving thanks, here are a few of mine. Certainly not covering everything, but just a few.

1. For my sweet hubby, who lets me think I’m getting my way most of the time. He’s the best husband one could hope for, and the best Daddy two kids could ever dream of having. He's always led by example in everything he's done. The kids learned many of their values by watching him go to work every day, faithfully providing for his family, and in his honesty and his caring for people. He’s been my support and teacher while I struggled to learn Photoshop Elements so I could make digital scrapbook pages remembering fun times with our four grandchildren. I’m always amazed at his ability to conquer the technical world. He can do anything he wants to do. Computers and technology were never a part of his livelihood; it was simply a hobby he taught himself years ago when the kids were little, and he’s continued throughout the years. Many times I would have thrown the computer out the window, but he’s always managed to fix my problems and get me back on track.

2. For my son who has also become the best Daddy to my three little grandsons. Even though his job has been taxing at times, he spends as much good quality time with his boys as possible. He’s a good husband, a good provider, and a good support system for my daughter-in-law and grandsons. He’s what the world needs more of…a good man to raise future good men. I'm convinced that is the reason God blessed him with three boys. He will do the best job any man can. I’m proud of him in everything he does.

3. For my daughter-in-law…She’s a loving mother to my grandsons. She keeps them in line in a firm, but caring way. Little boys need that. No, little boys have to have that. She and my son are both good moral compasses for their little ones. She’s been most supportive in my son’s transfer out of state to a more challenging job. Without her help and support, it would never have been possible. I give her lots of credit. She forfeited a lot so he could go forward with his dreams. She assumed a lot more responsibility for his goals to be accomplished. I’m glad you’re my daughter-in-law.

4. For my three precious grandsons. I miss them horribly, but life changes sometimes, and it was always my goal in life to see my children and grandchildren happy in marriage, life and career. About the move, the decision was not mine, nor should it have been. Their happiness is all that matters. I miss those sweet boys and all the funny things they said and did when we had time together. I’m thankful for at least those memories and look forward to many more in the future, even if they are so far away. I’m thankful also to see they have made the change with few complications. They’ve adjusted nicely to having their little worlds turned upside down, at least for the moment it happened. To The Analyzer, I'm thankful for your intelligence, your attention to the slightest detail, your common sense and your love for your brothers (most of the time); to Little Free Spirit, I'm thankful for your kind-hearted side, your love for your big brother and tolerance of your little brother, for your bright little sayings; and to Beautiful Blue Eyes, for your impish ways of teasing your big brothers, holding your own with them, your sweet spirit and just for being you and for being a member of our family of denim. I have so much to be thankful for.

5. For my daughter who is without a doubt one of the most patient mothers I know.I am amazed at how much patience and stamina she has with my granddaughter. I'm thankful for her love for her daughter. I’m thankful she’s able to stay home with The Little Princess, and that she and her husband recognized the importance of giving up monetary pleasures at least for the moment in return for the benefits Little Princess will receive. Also, because it gives her Daddy and me a chance to spend good quality fun time with both her and our granddaughter. Never question your choices or your abilities, my daughter. You deserve more credit than you give yourself.

6. For our son-in-law who has helped make it possible financially for our daughter to stay home with our granddaughter. For all his support of her efforts in raising The Little Princess. For being the wonderful husband he is to my daughter, and the caring Daddy he is to our granddaughter. For his gentle side that will teach our granddaughter how she should expect to be treated by men in her future. For his loving side which will teach her how to love. I can’t say for the discipline side because he will never be able to be the disciplinarian, no matter how much he thinks he will. He's already putty in her tiny little hands. She melts his heart right now, and it won’t change the older she gets. And, I’m glad you chose our daughter. You may just be a 'keeper'!

7. For The Little Princess. I’m thankful for being able to watch her as she grows and changes from one phase of her life to another. Seeing her as she becomes more and more of a challenge to her mommy in the little things. For wobbly little legs that get her into so much trouble. For sweet babbles from her precious mouth. For little displays of attitude she gives her Mom and Dad, just to show she's her own little being. For someday being my partner in crime as together we take on her mommy and teach her a few of life’s little lessons. For that beautiful, dimpled smile that is displayed on that sweet face most of the time. And for adding a bit of lace to my life already wonderfully blessed with beautiful, but tough denim.

8. For siblings and the chance to spend time remembering the old days, and what a pain in the neck they used to be. They’ve gotten a little better over the years!

9. For something we haven’t heard in a long time…the pounding of rain on the rooftop. Thank you Lord for a nice hard soaking rain.

10. For the chance to spend this Thanksgiving Day with at least a part of our family, though the other part remains out of state. They are remembered and loved. And we had loads of good times before they left.

11.These are just a few of my 'thankful fors' which of course, I didn’t include the food, and other things we take for granted. Too many other things, and I’m too long winded, so suffice it to say, I just did a few of the extra special ones off the top of my head.

Have a glorious and Happy Thanksgiving Day. I plan to. Playing with the Little Princess and maybe even finding time to visit a few minutes with her parents and my sister and brother-in-law for a few hours! And then maybe home again to do nothing more than enjoy the nice brisk, crisp fall day we've been waiting for so long.

“What does it mean, Grandmomma….

when someone says you’re hyper-active?” Out of the blue, this was the question posed to me by my then just turned five-year old grandson, Little Free Spirit. I stumbled through the words in my vocabulary trying to find just the perfect word a little boy his age could comprehend. I offered this word. I threw out that word. I suggested still another, and yet nothing erased that confused and total lack of understanding look from that sweet little face.

I was ready to run for the dictionary….or to the car, and leave those little smarty pants to babysit themselves… Then from over in the corner of the room, all curled up in a chair, focused on pushing buttons on one of those little hand-held-game-machine-thingies-that-I-don’t- know-the-name-of-nor how-they-work-nor-do-I-care-to-know, came the voice of Big Brother, The Analyzer. “Little Free Spirit” he says in his wise little way, “It just means you’re WILD!”

“Ohhh! , said Little Free Spirit,nodding with complete understanding and relieved that the heavens had opened and wisdom had at last poured forth. Finally he could settle down again and go about his play. It was a simple question, after all. All it had required was a simple answer!

Now why couldn’t I have come up with those simple words?!!

I‘m not sure who was more relieved to hear the answer to his question: Little Free Spirit or me.

Well, at least he didn’t ask me any more big questions that day. I probably couldn’t have answered them anyway.

I suspect he was saving them up for The Analyzer.

She’s a mess!

I knew better than sit next to The Little Princess in the restaurant. I should have made Granddaddy take that seat, but it was one of my weaker moments, and I sidled down right next to her. The first part of the meal was OK until she finally grew tired of sitting in that high chair surrounded by Mommy’s choice of vegetables…those yucky green collards; sweet potatoes that had already been chopped up so fine she could hardly find them to pick them up with her little fingers; corn; okra; butterbeans; a tad of this; and a bit of that consisting of other foods Mommy had decided the Little Princess should try.

She had finished her meal. She transmits those unspoken words by “that look” she’s so famous for, “I'm bored...Wanna play a game, Grandmomma? Let’s check out your reflexes. These are the rules, Grandmomma. You hold out your hand, and I’ll drop my vegetables into it, or not! If you catch them before they hit the floor, you get a point. If I drop them onto the floor before you can catch them, one point for me. Doesn’t that sound like fun, Grandmomma?”

What choice did I have? She’s got the most beautiful little grin, and when she flashes that single little dimple on the left-hand side of her face, I’ll do anything she wants. Those little blue eyes just twinkle when she smiles.

And besides she was becoming quite vocal. People were staring, almost begging us to leave.

So the game began. Hand stretched out ready to receive the offerings of green beans, okra, butterbeans, ham. Dump that hand full of food before I catch you, Grandmomma. Fill again, dump. Fill again, dump. "Hey, you're pretty good at this, Grandmomma, have you been practicing?"

Over and over until Grandmomma got tired. Not good. The screaming and the squirming started again.

She’s a mess that little sweetheart of mine, and so was I after sitting next to her. I think I’ll pick my seat more carefully next time.

Maybe I'll sit at another table.

She’s always on the go…she wears me out…

She removes the diapers from the end of her dressing table one by one and scatters them over her floor. She will pull out the drawer under her crib, then all the neatly folded blankets, sheets and everything else that was packed away so carefully by her finicky mommy instantly becomes a heap of wrinkled mass before she can be stopped. She moves on to the CD player to remove a disc before your hands can grab hers.

Every book within her reach on the family bookshelf finds its way off the shelf or in complete disarray. She’s still practicing removing her Daddy’s prized record collection. They’re too tightly packed for her tiny hands to pull them out right now, but with a little more practice, they’ll come down, too. Their time is limited.

No kitty cat escapes the busy little hands of The Little Princess as she stops to pet and love her.

Not even the tiniest speck of trash on the floor gets past The Little Princess. It immediately becomes part of her snack for the day. And speaking of snacks, the top of a favorite cardboard story book becomes an ooey-gooey mess as she tries to absorb its contents. Her toy basket must be emptied with the speed of lightening. Then she moves on.

On to the bathroom and a full roll of toilet paper that will become an empty roll of wet soggy cardboard as soon as it touches her precious hands. And she loves cleaning the toilets. With her bare little hands.

Neatly folded towels and laundry finds itself pulled down onto the floor, before Mommy can put it away. Any magazines and newspapers are crumpled on the spot, just in case Mommy needs them to wash the windows.


She keeps check on the contents of mommy’s purse, removing any necessary and unnecessary items. Then there’s Mommy’s cell phone that needs to be checked for messages she may have missed. After all Grandmomma may have called while she was busy doing everything else. While we’re at it, let’s just call Grandmomma…in case the phone wasn't working or we missed her call. She loves hearing from The Little Princess.

On to another interesting bag. Her diaper bag. She unpacks and repacks it, just in case there’s a tasty snack of Cheerios or Puffs lurking inside.

No kitchen cabinet or drawer is safe from The Little Princess. She must empty them all. At least all that Mommy hasn't designated as absolutely off limits. If she finds a special spoon or plastic container she's really fond of, she will add it to her personal collection. That’s another task completed in her busy day. Make sure mommy has some more dishes to wash and pack up again.

Oh yes, Teddy must be fed, cuddled, patted and at last comforted with The Little Princesses’ pacifier. Then laid to rest on the spot where The Little Princess found him, until later he needed more loving time.

Teddy doesn’t like to sleep much, but neither does The Little Princess. She finds naptime a frivolous waste of time. You can’t learn when you’re sleeping, and she has much to learn, many things in her world to conquer, many mountains to climb, or at least a few chairs, sofas and Kitty cat furniture. She was put here to live, and live she will. To the absolute fullest.

You completely leave me exhausted, Little Princess. Just watching you wears me out. And following you completely exhausts me. I'm glad Mommy is young eough to handle you.

But I can’t think of a better way to spend my day, my life. I love you Little Princess. Keep exploring, keep moving, keep learning. Just lighten up a little the days we’re together, ok? Remember those are Mommy moments to share with her.

Happy birthday Little Princess…

Oh, I know. We celebrated your first birthday today was a month ago. So, today we celebrate your thirteenth month in the world. We’ll probably celebrate your monthly birthday until you reach your two-year mark. Then it’ll become more difficult to count up the months. We may have to stop at 18 months, so you'd better enjoy it while you can. I’ve never been too good in math, and that might get in the way of my counting your month-days.

Today you will be returning from a week end that I hope has been fun for you. You, Mommy and Daddy met some friends in Tennessee Friday so your Daddy could go back to his Alma Mater, The University of Tennessee, and watch them play football again. Tennessee won in the last few seconds of the game. Yea! I sure hope he doesn’t get any crazy ideas about moving there again. I miss you when you’re gone for just a few days. It would be so miserable not to be able to see you at least as often as I do now.

You were to meet their friends'little son for the first time this week end. He was born a week or two before you, and I’m sure he’s probably about as rotten as you are, if that’s at all possible. I wonder how you reacted to him, and he to you.
I hope you had lots of fun. Hurry home, Little Princess. Grandmomma loves you. Ok, Granddaddy does, too!

Grandmomma heard that, Mommy…

As I wrote about earlier, The Little Princess is becoming quite skilled at climbing…she would climb a wall all the way to the ceiling if it had steps. She will not be deterred by the loss of the little white chair she came to love so much. Anything and everything is fair game with her. As long as her chubby little short legs can reach it, her mind will find a way.

Just the other day The Little Princess was under the usual very careful watch of Queen Mommy. Queen Mommy was determined The Little Princess would not get into any trouble. The Little Princess decided Mommy needed a challenge.

We had spent the day enjoying the beautiful colors of the nearby mountains. We had gone by a pumpkin farm hoping to take some more post-Halloween pictures of The Little Princess. After all, you can never get too many pictures of a Little Princess. Since the farm had already sold most of the pumpkins for Halloween and were getting ready to close up for the season, we were only able to get 300+ pictures of the little sweetheart.

It was getting late when we got back to The Little Princesses’ house and she was getting a bit grumpy because she had been strapped into her car seat for what she considered way too long and a hungry lion had taken its' place inside her little tummy, and was roaring loudly, ‘Feed me, feed me, feed me, now!’

Her sweet temperament almost returned after dinner when she was finally able to run around the house and play once again. First into this, then into that. As soon as Grandmomma picked up one thing, another hit the floor. By the time Queen Mommy finished vacuuming, it looked as though a tornado had hit the room once again. The Little Princess apparently doesn’t like the look of order in her little life. Besides what would Mommy do all day if The Little Princess didn’t create a job for her? Sit home eating bon bons and watch soaps all day? Isn’t that all she does anyway?

Granddaddy had downloaded the pictures we had made of our favorite subject, and the three of us were looking at them. I say three of us, because The Little Princess had seen enough of that little kid on the screen and decided to find something else to occupy herself.

In just a split second she had toddled her way into the other room, (still under the very watchful eye of her mommy, and no, I’m not exaggerating, it was a very watchful eye). Her mission was to climb on top of the kitty playground/also known as kitty’s scratch toy. It was for climbing, right? The kitties had used it for climbing and she could, too.

Her Tarzan act had already been perfected with the little white chair. Now It was time for her to transform into her “Superman” character. She’s multi-talented and quite creative, my little granddaughter, she is. And she believes in the adage ‘practice makes perfect’. Superman needed practice.

Just before she could pull herself up into a straight position and launch herself for flight into the air, there was Mommy scooping her up and spoiling all her fun! The Little Princess was not happy. After all, it was only a hard slate floor she would have hit. What’s the big deal? A few tears, a small concussion, maybe a few stitches, and she would be on her merry way again. Toughen up, Mommy!

Funny thing is, I’m pretty sure I heard her mommy mutter under her breath, “I’m going back to work so I can get some rest!”

Never fear Little Princess. My money’s on you. You will teach Mommy a few things. And, Mommy’s stuck with you, Sweetie. I'm pretty sure there isn't a daycare center around that will enroll you once they’ve spent an hour with you. And when you’re ready for big school, Mom will probably be the only mommy in history who is forced to home-school her little darling. All fourteen years! Aren’t you a lucky little girl? You get to drive Mommy crazy a few more years!

Those were the days of honor and honesty…

Every Wednesday and every Saturday my Daddy would make his usual run into town to do what he called “peddling the milk and butter”. I don't know how many gallons of milk he took in to town each trip, but since we had quite a few cows and that meant excess milk, something had to be done with that milk. We had a refrigerator that stored as much as possible,considering we had a family of four children and our parents.

Daddy had his usual customers on his milk route, and I’m sure there were many more who would loved to have bought milk and butter from him had they had the opportunity. Very rarely did he sell what we called “sweet milk”. That’s what Northerners call “white milk”. Pretty much all his customer data base included buttermilk customers. The milk wasn’t pasteurized because it came straight from the farm and to make sure he didn’t sell something to someone and make them sick, he had very, very limited “sweet milk” customers. That was kept for family consumption.

Sometimes a few gallons of the milk would be stored in the spring down below the big house. That spring would keep the milk ice cold. I don’t remember a lot of that, just some, but I do remember the days of modern things happening at our house when Daddy bought his first Coca Cola machine to store that milk in. Eventually we had two of them.

How does one store milk in a Coca Cola machine, you ask? No, it wasn’t the kind where the little hole twirls around and dispenses your iced cold drink to you. This was a box made for Coca Cola before those fancy individual drink dispensers came along. It was a big rectangle-shaped box that held water. They were usually found in the little country stores.

You filled it half way with water, plugged it in, and eventually the water became ice cold and after a few hours of storing your gallons of milk in it, you would have the most delicious glass of buttermilk in the whole wide world. Add a chunk off a pone of cornbread, and you were doing some fine dining. Better than at the best restaurant in town.

There was no comparing sweet milk to that tart, ice-cold glass of buttermilk, with tiny chunks of real, homemade churned butter still floating in it.

In my opinion the only thing sweet milk was good for was making homemade ice cream. Well, maybe once the heavy cream was whipped it did taste pretty good. But my favorites were the pans of homemade chocolate and vanilla ice cream that awaited us when we arrived home from school.

Back to Daddy’s milk route…he loaded up the car with his gallons of milk and pounds of butter and headed for an all-day trip to town. Occasionally one of us kids would have the opportunity to spend the day with Daddy as he peddled his milk. I like to think of him as starting the modern version of "Take your kid to work Day", although that was everyday of our lives. They always carried us to work with them...straight to the fields.

On Daddy's 'milk days', Mama was left holding down the household chores and field work at home...unless Daddy took one with him. I always looked at these as Daddy’s days of vacation. Mama didn’t have any. The closest thing she could call a vacation was Sundays. That was't much of a vacation. Still the usual morning chores of milking, washing churns and jugs, churning, putting up the milk, cooking etc.,had to be done because cows and kids don’t take a day off. Mama just didn’t have to work in the fields because it was the Sabbath.

Daddy always kept a black book with lines drawn down the center, listing each of his customers, how many gallons of milk he had sold them, how many pounds of butter he had sold and whether or not he had been paid (always in cash, of course) or whether they still owed him ‘X’ number of dollars. Every gallon was accounted for. Every pound of butter was accounted for.

Daddy was an honest man. He was a man held accountable by himself, for himself and his family, for his income. There was a giant calendar Daddy kept hanging in their room. It was a giveaway calendar he had received at the end of the old year, advertising a local fertilizer store in town that he did his farm business with. Every Wednesday and every Saturday, without fail, Daddy would come home and record his sales for the day on that calendar.

Every year at tax time, he would pack up his calendar and whatever other receipts for income and expenses he had and take them into town to have his taxes figured by the local accountant.

Sometimes I wonder how it could have even been worth his time to keep track of those few gallons of milk he sold. That butter and milk my Mama had labored so hard over, put so many hours into, and he had sold for fifty cents a gallon. But it was their livelihood, money they had proudly made, paid their tithe from, and he was not above paying his share of taxes on it.

It was their contribution to society as meager as it was,helping the economy stay alive in the years I remember…the years during the late 40’s, 50’s and early 60’s. They were proud people, my Daddy and my Mama. They were the givers, the contributors, albeit in a small way. They were not takers. There were never free lunches at school for us kids because there was always at least a banana and loaf bread available for our school lunches. Taking welfare never entered their minds, though I’m sure they probably could have qualified. You never would have known it because they were too busy making a living and a life for their family.

They didn’t waste valuable time trying to figure out ways to beat the system. They added to the system. They were too busy raising their family. They didn’t have time for pity parties. They had created their children and they would make life happen for them as best they could. They would have been insulted had someone even suggested their children were suffering. Because they weren’t; they were taken care of by their parents. There was always food on our table and clothes on our backs…healthy food and clean clothes…

And as for “paying the IRS”, what did it really accomplish? It instilled a sense of pride in my parents.and it imprinted upon the minds of their little children, consciously or sub-consciously, “You pay your own way in life, you hold yourself accountable, and you are proud of your income, large or small, and it taught over-all honesty.

“Thank you Daddy and Mama for life’s little lessons, whether seen or unseen, appreciated or just taken for granted at the time. You made us who we are.

Put a little hand on Sweet Baby’s Head…

This was one of my Mother’s first and favorite things to teach each of her grandchildren when they were little tiny babies. Over and over she would tell them, “Put a little hand on Sweet Baby’s Head”, until at last they made the connection and put their tiny little hand on their own little head . It’s such a sweet gesture and will melt your heart to watch them.

This was a carry-over tradition for me with The Analyzer, Little Free Spirit and Beautiful Blue Eyes, so it was only natural The Little Princess should learn where Sweet Baby’s Head was.

It has been so much fun watching her over the past months as she’s learned to reach up and pat Sweet Baby’s head. There’s nothing any more fun than teaching a little one (as long as it’s your granddaughter or grandson or niece or nephew,) to put their little hand on their head, especially when it’s a little hand that has just been ground into squished up carrots, mushy green beans, sticky pears, or greasy birthday cake. Hmmm, unless it happens right after Baby has had a bath and is nice and clean from head to toe. Then, the look on mommy’s face is priceless!

Thank you Mama G, for teaching me this form of sweet revenge to use on my wonderful daughter, your granddaughter. It’s so precious and sweet, she won’t complain a bit about it. After all, Queen Mommy’s favorite Grandmother was responsible for starting the tradition, and she could never be mad at her.

I wonder if this tradition will be passed along to another generation by The Little Princess?

I sure hope so. I've been doing my best to carry on some sweet memories for future generations.

After all, it really wasn’t a boulder…

At the Friday photo shoot The Little Princess stopped to gather a few souvenirs of her visit to the Park farm. She found a cute little black bug, examined a few brightly colored fall leaves,and she also collected a beautiful rock which she held onto tightly. She wouldn’t drop it even to hold on to Granddaddy’s and Grandmomma’s hand. It became her prized possession.

Mommy was busy getting some random shots when Grandmomma thought she saw the Little Princess put her hand to her mouth and maybe put something in that didn’t belong there. “Little Princess, did you just put something in your mouth?” And like the little Tar Baby in Brer Rabbit, Little Princess, she don’t say nothing! She just looks at Grandmomma. Ok, check the hand for the rock she picked up earlier. Yep, it’s still clutched tightly in her little hand. The little black bug she had captured got away, didn't it? Just imagining things, Grandmomma. But by this time Mommy had overheard the conversation.

Mommy immediately panics. “She does have something in her mouth, Mother! She does have something in her mouth!” The Little Princess looks from Mommy to Grandmomma, back to Mommy then back to Grandmomma.

There was ‘that look’. “Tell her Grandmomma, I don’t have anything in my mouth. See, I’m not chewing.”

“She doesn’t have anything in her mouth,Mommy, see, she’s not chewing!” says Grandmomma. Still The Little Princess is watching both faces intently and thinking to herself. “Hmmm, who’s gonna win this one? I’m keeping my mouth shut, but I’m pulling for you, Grandmomma! You tell her.”

Well, chalk up a win to your panicked Mommy, Little Princess.

A swift scoop of Mommy’s finger inside the surprised Little Princesses’ mouth produced the small pebble The Little Princess had packed away just in case she needed it. With a look of complete betrayal she once again shoots Grandmomma the look that said, “How could you let her do this to me? I thought you’ve told me all these months that you and I are going to hang together against Mommy, and I put you to your very first test and you failed it! How could you,Grandmomma, how could you? That was one of my very favorite rocks!”

In the meantime Mommy’s doing the guilt trip dance. “She could have choked to death! I’m just standing here trying to get pictures while my daughter could have choked to death! I can’t believe I didn’t see her….blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah, blah.”

Ok, calm down, Mommy, she didn’t crack one of her six little teeth. She didn’t swallow the pebble. She didn’t choke. She’s fine. She’s really just fine. After all, it wasn’t a boulder!

And as for you Little Princess, we’ll still be partners in crime along the way, I promise. We'll just have to find things that won’t send Mommy over the edge next time. She’s kinda funny about finding rocks in her baby’s mouth.…and while we’re chatting, there are better ways to add fiber to your diet.

What my blog banner represents

The lace represents our precious little granddaughter. At times it looks doubtful lace will be her choice of wear once she can make the choice. I fully expect her to take her spot in life living up to the ability to handle hard times, if necessary, just like her great grandmother, my mother. There was no time for frilly lace in her day. I pray the baby's life won't be as difficult, but that she will be able to continue on through any tough times as well as the easy times.

The denim represents our wonderful three little grandsons who need heavy denim to withstand the rough and tough lives they lead. Each one can demonstrate a sweet, kind and compassionate side, but they each are 100% boy in every way. You never know what will come out of their mouths next. I've loved writing down their little expressions through the years, and I miss them so much since they moved away from us!

I love them all. We have been more than blessed with our four grandchildren and their parents.

The house and buildings in the center of my banner is a picture taken of the view from the kitchen window in the house across the road. It was a Norman Rockwell view from the house we almost bought several years ago. The deal fell through at the last minute because it was tied up in an estate and for reasons too complicated to explain here, the house was simply not meant to be ours. We enjoyed the dream while it was there, though.

I have mourned the loss of that house for four years now and mostly because I loved that view. It was not meant to be ours for reasons unknown to us, but we just have to trust the Lord that it was in our best interest, overall. I still have my memories from the pictures we made and this will always be one of my very favorite pictures. It reminds me so much of my humble beginnings.

When I see an old house, run down or still in tact, one of my very favorite expressions is, "That house has character." Either of my kids can see a house and instantly know if their Mother would like it. I love a house with character. I wouldn't swap my humble beginnings for the castles of any of the richest person around. I'm not ashamed of where I came from.

A special thanks to...

my dear sweet hubby who spent many hours trying to design my blog banner to suit me. This was your very first blog banner challenge, and I love what you did with it. I confess, I can be a hard taskmaster. Thanks for the many hours you spent on it. I'm so very proud of it. What would I do without my own personal technician to figure out all those things I don't want to learn? When I make my millions from my book sales, I'll be sure to give you at least a pittance for all you do.

To Susan at http://www.raspberryroaddesigns.blogspot.com my thanks to you for all the wonderful pages and elements you've designed and so graciously shared with everyone over the past months, some of which are included in my banner.

I hope you think we've done at least a tiny bit of justice to your work. Just remember we're only beginners, but your work is fantastic all the time. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

There she sat near the road…

beckoning to me to pick her up and give her a new home. She caught my eye as we drove by the house. She was the sweetest little white chair, and she really needed a new home. I could tell. She was tired of being packed up in a hot attic or a cold basement. She longed to once again feel the warmth and the love of a little girl as she snuggled deep inside the little chairs arms. It would feel, oh so good, once again to experience the rough and tough clumsiness of a little tyke’s feet as she patiently practiced her climbing skills first onto the rounds of the chair and then up into a standing position in the middle of its' paint-chipped seat, while The Little Princess demonstrated her "Look Mommy, Me Tarzan!" stance. It might be fun, maybe just a little bit of fun,anyway to once again see the complete look of horror on the young, first-time mother’s face as she makes the mad dash across the floor in an atttempt to catch her little acrobat before she tumbles to the floor.

She missed those days. They lent an air of excitement to an otherwise dull day. She really did miss those days,and some of those little shenanigans were possibly some of the very reasons the little chair had found herself locked in the attic or basement in the first place. But,honestly, it was through no fault of her own. She had just been innocently sitting there all pretty, in her coat of white, silently observing all the antics of a little child.

That little white chair, with her now cracking paint, was what had originally attracted me to the yard sale. But after having hubby stop, I became interested in other things and completely forgot about the little chair. Just after we pulled away from the curb, I remembered her. I had forgotten to ask the price so hubby turned the car around, and we headed back. (After all, I only needed to mention it was for The Little Princess. He would do anything for The Little Princess.)

“How much is the little white chair?” I asked.

“How about $2.00?” was the reply.

“Do I really need that little chair? It will just be in my way for the next few months until The Little Princess is old enough to sit in it.” “But just imagine how cute she will look sitting in it at a photo shoot!” My mind and I engaged ourselves in quite an argument. I decided I would make my final decision by the answer I got from the seller.

“Will you take a dollar for it?” I asked, knowing she would refuse my ridiculous offer because it was such an adorable little chair and well worth much more than the $2.00 she was asking. But at least my decision would be made for me, and I wouldn’t feel quite so guilty because I hadn’t tried. And, I had to justify making Granddaddy turn around and go back, didn't I?

“Sure,” she says, and that’s how the little white captain’s chair made her way to her new home at Grandmomma's house, only to be put aside for the day months later, when The Little Princesses’ mommy and daddy would rent some expensive photo equipment to take of their one-year-old- turned-twelve-and-a-half-going-on-thirteen-month-old daughter's pictures. After all, who can afford to pay a professional for between 2000 and 2500 pictures when the King is quite good at making pictures?

The little white chair finally became a part of the backdrop for some extremely beautiful pictures. It was well worth the dollar she had cost. The Little Princess really loved that little white chair, and she kept loving that little white chair, so much so that anytime she saw it she wanted to play in it. It didn’t matter that the little white chair was no longer being used for making pictures, and she was much too little to be playing in it.

The Little Princess has become quite the little climber since her days of walking began, and quite frankly the little chair has become a bit of a nuisance to the Queen Mommy. It became more and more difficult to distract Little Tarzan, I mean, The Little Princess once she saw it. And there’s really no place to store it at her house either.

It was time to make a decision. Queen Mommy kindly suggested Grandmomma might want to take it back home with her, and after chasing The Little Princess all day, I decided she was probably right. Did I really want to deal with The Little Princess and that chair the next time I babysat? I don't think so. I would put it out onto the front porch until one of us made a trip to the car, then we would pack it up to take it back home to our house.

At last I found a way to distract The Little Princess, and I picked up the little white chair and headed for the front door. Right behind me, toddling just as fast as those little short, chubby legs could carry her, came The Little Princess. Clearly, her one word…”Gan-momma!,” followed by her second unidentified language, “blah, blah, blah,” spurted forth. I only understood the “Gan-momma” part, but she was making it known in her remaining sentences, that was her little white chair, and she wasn’t happy I was taking it away. She wanted it back...NOW.

I had heard her say “Gan-momma” before, and even “Gan-daddy”. But this was the first time Queen Mommy had heard it or at least the first time she had acknowledged it even when I pointed it out to her. Prior to this, Queen Mommy was still in denial.
This time, she was first to point it out. She had heard her daughter say "Gan-momma"

It’s wonderful to at last become a real person to your grandchild, but perhaps the best feeling is when your own child acknowledges you may not have been hearing things after all. And you didn't just make that up.

I might add The Little Princesses’ words are never validated until Queen Mommy has heard them for herself, and she finally heard it. “Gan-momma!” received the stamp of validation, at long last.

Now, if we can just make sure the dollar investment in that little chair doesn’t become major medical bills in the future, we will have spent our money wisely. No, please! Not on my watch. Please! Don't get hurt on my watch, Little Tarzan, I mean Little Princess!

One lesson I’ve learned from that little chair and all the climbing and gymnastics The Little Princess is learning to perform on it, the lace I had envisioned adorning her sweet little body may eventually turn into only a teensy tad of lace sewn onto a mighty big swatch of denim. If I’m lucky enough to get even that much lace at all! Someday she may become our little Denim Princess sans the lace altogether.

But in the meantime we’ll keep working on it. All too soon she can toughen up and become the first woman Princess President of this country. Later. Let’s don't talk about that right now. I'm not ready.

Right now, I’ll dream my dreams about the two of us baking our cookies and decorating our pretty cakes, having our dainty little tea parties and playing with and nurturing our baby dolls and all the many other fun things we,little girls, are supposed to do. Like taking sides against Queen Mommy.

After all, it’s important to keep some lace in my life, even if it’s just a teeny tiny little bit. I love you Little Princess!

The Little Princess visits the farm...

Last Friday seemed to be the perfect day for a photo shoot of The Little Princess. It was a nice, crisp Autumn day and we had our beautiful little Princess as the focal point.

Sometimes it’s difficult finding time to work in a photo shoot when just general everyday living gets in the way. There are meals to prepare and eat and clean up after. There are naps The Little Princesses’ mommy dreams she will take, though you’re pretty sure you know who will win this battle. After all, she is The Princess, and she who wears the crown, rules the kingdom. Most days “Mommy to The Little Princess” wins the “first nap” battle. The afternoon nap battle is usually won by The Little Princess.

So you find yourself trying to find a time for that photo shoot in between eating, cleaning and the battles before “not” taking a nap. Before you know it, the day is over. You try anyway.

You will enjoy making some more happy memories. If not for the Little Princess, then certainly for yourself. And you know that she will thoroughly enjoy traipsing through the area trying to outrun, and outwit her mommy and grandparents as they struggle to keep up with her, trying to catch her just before she tumbles to the ground.

The backdrop for our pictures was a park farm which included some of the original owner’s farm buildings, an old homestead with an old well, and numerous other buildings of interest. Nice choice for pictures. The Little Princess looked so very, very cute in the long green dress with smocking that her mommy had chosen for her. Her mommy commented she could have been another little Laura Ingalls from The Little House on the Prairie days.

When The Analyzer and Little Free Spirit lived in the area we took them to visit the farm, but Beautiful Blue Eyes hasn’t been there yet, and this was the first time for The Little Princess and her mother. It was a beautiful place to turn a little one loose and let her wander for an hour or more. Nothing could have made The Little Princess happier.

As we were getting photo shots by the farm house well, something caught the attention of The Little Princess. She kept mumbling something and pointing behind her. It sounded an awful lot like the first parts of the word “Pumpkin”. I turned and looked. That’s exactly what she was trying to say. On the porch behind her were several pumpkins stacked neatly. They had caught her eye, and she wanted somebody to acknowledge she knew what she had seen.

I keep telling the Queen Mommy, The Little Princess carefully chooses her words she wants to use, and when she uses them you just aren’t listening to them. She’s really using them, King and Queen. Listen! She doesn’t waste a lot of time on frivolous words. She’s really telling you things.

The Little Princess has no concept of a porches’ beginning or end. Now that she’s learned she can run she doesn’t slow down for old people to catch up with her.
That was her fun thing for the day. She would head for the end of the porch. We always managed to get there before she did, but one day she may find the porch does have an end because we may not be fast enough to catch her. And kerplunk, the body will meet the ground. Tough lesson to have to learn, and I sure hope it isn’t anytime soon, if ever.

For the first few hundred pictures The Little Princess will give you her very best photo smile. Then she gets very tired of that camera in her face, and listening to people call from every direction, “Little Princess, Little Princess, look this way, look this way,” and then her demeanor changes to either her phase out…”Can’t you see I’m ignoring you now” stage, or her “This is enough, folks, you’re really making a sweet baby cry” look.

But the day wasn’t a total washout. Out of the 500+ shots there were some really cute ones, but then again, all 500+ would have been cute had the sun not cast its
shadows all over our beautiful subject.

Those sweet baby sounds…

I recently listened over the baby monitor as my daughter attempted to conquer my granddaughter, The Little Princess and make her take that much despised afternoon nap. All those consistent, rhythmic and patient sounds of shhh…shhh…shhh…shhh, over and over and over trying to put The Little Princess into a sleep stupor made Grandmomma wish she could curl up on the sofa for a nice long nap. Just as predictable as those quiet shhhs, were the sounds from a sweet baby’s mouth… babbling, singing, louder and louder, trying so hard to tune out her mommy’s shhh… shhh…shhh.

After thirty minutes or more of this babbling and shushing, her mommy finally puts her down, still wide awake. All those sweet baby babblings instantly turned into wailing and gnashing of teeth, until finally mommy gives it up and checks on The Little Princess once again.

Score another win for The Little Princess. If you want to skip your afternoon nap, schedule your poopy time right after mommy puts you down. That’ll do it every time!

There’s a ghost in this house...

As I sit writing this, I am almost convinced there is a ghost in this house. She is reminding me The Little Princess was here yesterday. I just heard voices, and I am the only one awake in this house at 6:50 in the morning.

I hear a faint singing…”The ants go marching one by one, hu-rah, hu-rah. The ants go marching one by one, hu-rah, hu-rah…” From over in the corner of the family room, and out of one of her toy buckets comes the sweet female voice of one of The Little Princesses’ favorite toys. It’s a musical book that has picked this moment to come to life with music. It makes me stop and wonder if The Little Princess is just waking this morning, and maybe that’s her little "Good Morning, Grandmomma" to me. If so, I got your message sweet baby. I can entertain ghosts of this type, any time, any day but greeting the real-life little Princess is always much better. I'll take what I can get! Welcome to another beautiful morning, Little Princess!

Let me introduce you to...

Number 1 Grandson = The Analyst – He earned this name early on in life. Never have I seen a child who would so carefully check each and every detail on everything his little life came in contact with. Before he reached the ripe old age of one, his Mother took what has become one of my favorite pictures of him when they were at the beach. He has a handful of sand running through his tiny little hands, and he appears to be carefully checking out each and every grain as it passes through. I am still trying to hang a title to a scrapbook page for this picture, but because it is so serious, I haven’t captured the perfect title yet.

The Analyst is the type of child who closely examines each and every picture on birthday, Christmas, whatever gift he receives, boxes and could probably tell you exactly how it is made just from the pictures alone. He doesn’t necessarily have to hold the toy in his hand; the box will be just fine.

He’s the dreamer of what his next Lego creation will become with a bit of twisting and twixing. He’s the child who loves the printed word. He’s the one who brings fantasy into the real world for his little brothers by reading to them. No, he’s not a geek, but he definitely shows signs of higher intelligence.

Grandson #2= Little Free Spirit – He has a caring, trusting, loving spirit that runs deep and free without a care in the world as long as he has his big brother by his side. No sweeter child walked this earth than Little Free Spirit. Little Brother, Beautiful Blue Eyes, can be a bit of a nuisance, but Little Free Spirit tries to make the best of it. He is every bit as smart and intelligent as his older brother. He just has less time in his life to spend caring about the life of perfection. Life is for living and it's way too short for frivilous things for Little Free Spirit.

This one can leech his way into your heart with simple little statements such as “How’s your art work going, Grandmomma?” He’s referring, of course, not to some great masterpiece you’ve just created, but to your pitiful little contribution to the art world by stamping images, sometimes crookedly placed on a card, colored with colors that don’t always blend well with other colors on the page. But, nevertheless, to him it’s “your art work”. He’s what keeps you going.


He's the template for the Publix commercial of four -year old soccer players, playing on the field of life. Just melts your heart completely.

Grandson #3 = He is such a combination of so many personalities I haven’t found his “just so” title, yet, but it will be added and you may see him referred to as many different things before I finally capture his true personality. One is influenced by so many things in life by the time he reaches the world as Child #3, that it’s hard to pinpoint a clear title.

Since he drew the #3 spot in life, most likely he will be the most independent one out of the three. A survivor he must become, a tender child he will be, oh at least the majority of the time, and a charmer, most definitely. He he has to learned to use those charms on everyone he comes in contact with. The manipulator he will become because that is another step to becoming a survivor. This one will be carefully watched for many special personality developments.

But for reasons described below, at this time, I will refer to him as Beautiful Baby Blues.

At the time of Grandson #2 and Grandson #3’s birth I would never have dreamed they could possibly resemble Grandson #1 so very much. They all seemed so very different physically until years later looking back on each little baby picture one could see so many resemblances that indeed it is very hard to determine just which child’s pictures you are looking at, unless you had the pictures marked on the backs with the dates and/or ages.

Each of the three was blessed with the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve every seen. And eyelashes any girl would die for! All wasted on three little boys who don’t need to be spreading their charms and flashing those precious eyes to pick up girls. They will have plenty of means to stop the ladies in their tracks without those beautiful eyes. This was an added treasured inheritances passed on to them by their father, and grandfather.

These are the blessings passed on to us by our son and daughter-in-law. We couldn't have asked for more.

But receive, we did. From our daughter and son-in-law came Grandchild #4/Granddaughter #1. And how shall I refer to her? Well, none other than “The Little Princess”, of course. That’s a spot and a name reserved for royalty, and royalty she is. She expects and shall receive only the best life has to offer. A lot of this expectancy comes from the spot in our family she drew. You can’t become #1 child in your particular family and #1 granddaughter in the overall family without having certain expectations. “I expect the rest of the world to know I’m as charming and beautiful and special as my family thinks I am”…type of attitude.

I may have to visit a name change later because at this point in her life The Little Princess is showing sure signs I will have to rename her “ Little Renegade.” I can see her rejecting her royal title because she doesn’t have time for following the rules. She is a climber; she is a runner; she is an examiner; she is an explorer; she thirsts for new adventures outside the Castle and away from the King and the Queen…All at the ripe old age of 12 1/2 months. Her life should prove quite interesting…She may be the reason I have to give up the dreams of lace and add her to the world of denim with her little boy cousins. This may become the site of Denim, Denim, Denim and Denim. Lace may slow her down way too much.

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

Tonight my daughter decided to introduce me to the world of technology through blogging. I learned you can act dumb (normal) and your child will set you up and put you on the road to even more total confusion and all you have to remember are your passwords and how to get into your blog.

We shall see if this works for me.

I had to make choices of a name. Cutesy names, serious names, plain names. What would it be. My original choice was alright, but then I decided I needed something more in line with my life.
I have three grandsons and one granddaughter. My second choice was already taken, so I opted for the one above. The lace represents my sweet granddaughter who recently celebrated her first birthday and the denim represents my handsome grandsons who are now (No. 1 Grandson - soon to be eight; No. 2 Grandson few months short of 6; and No. 3 Grandson who just turned two. Grandsons are all sons of my son and his wife; Granddaughter is daughter of my daughter and her husband.

Maybe there will be plenty of lace in my life to help balance the denim. Not that one is more precious than the other. But then again, who knows, the granddaughter may decide she wants to be a little tomboy and wear denim after all. I'll take them all,just the way they are, and be more than glad I've got them. All of them.