The Klutz Sisters

Road trip!  Road trip!!  Don't you just love a road trip?  My best friend, Kathy, and I went on a road trip to the Biltmore House in Asheville, North Carolina.  The Biltmore House was decorated for Christmas and we couldn't wait to see it.  Kathy had been before, but this was my first trip.  I was so excited.

We had absolutely no problems getting to the Biltmore Estates.  The Christmas snow was still on the ground and it looked like they had seen over 8 inches.  The roads were fairly clear, but the parking lots were slush with ice.  We walked very carefully.  The Klutz Sisters had arrived!

We got our name the old fashion way--we earned it!  Every bruise, stitch, and broken bone had come with a price.  We even laugh our pains away, but today we were concerned that the Klutz Sisters were in for a two-fer.  You know a two-fer-the price of one deal.  We were trying to help each other over the ice and snow by choosing our steps very carefully.  Each had a hold of the other.  Instead of taking a shuttle like sensible, over-the-hill ladies; we decided to walk and enjoy the snow and view.  This is where you are sure that we fell, or slid on our "embarrassments" right?  Wrong!  We made it!  Very confident in our accomplishments, the Klutz Sisters had arrived at the Biltmore House unscathed.

I will admit to stepping on my coat a few times as we climbed the steps from one floor to the other in the Biltmore House.  Kathy reminded me that she couldn't believe she had depended on me, the Klutz Sister with the most stitches and the recently mended broken wrist, to help her over the snow and icy slush.

We may be the Klutz Sisters, who trip over their own feet, but we made this delightful and memorable road trip without a stitch.

It is me again Lord thanking you for a best friend who shares laughter and tears and who makes life a little easier when the road gets bumpy.

A little bit of Georgia Wisdom:  Enjoy your friends, and if you don't have a "best" friend, make one.

Granny's Legacy

Christmas is over.  The pretty paper is in strips and shreds in plastic garbage bags and forgotten boxes.  The family has been here and gone.  It is over until next year.

A life's lesson is found in Christmas gifts.  It is the one time when all the presents are under the tree at the same time.  As we call each name, one at a time, we enjoy  the excitement in the eyes of the children, and then it happens.  One child got a present or two more than another. It doesn't matter how much their presents cost; it is the "quantity" of presents under the tree that counts.

In our lifetime we search for "quantity" sometimes and forget about "quality."  I saw this first hand when my grandmother fought so hard with cancer.  The doctor asked her if she wanted a "quality" life or to take treatments that would give her "quantity" of life.  She chose "quantity."  Sometimes she was so sick she could barely sit up.  She knew that there was no chance of recovery at her age of 84 and the severity of the cancer, but she decided to fight it as long as she could. It did give her, at age 84, a few more months.

Even though she suffered with sickness and pain, she got to see her first two great-great grandchildren.  I have the treasured picture of five generations together.  She may have missed them had she chosen quality.

Only our Lord knows what our future holds.  It is like the brightly wrapped presents under the tree; the person who gives it knows what it is and how much it is worth.  It is only when it is opened that the receiver can decide what it is worth to him or her.

Thinking about my grandmother as the anniversary of her death, January 1, approaches.  She was a brave woman who loved her children and grandchildren and fought a brave battle to stay with them as long as possible.

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for a wonderful legacy of a strong grandmother.

A little bit of Georgia Wisdom: Enjoy the moments you do have and search for the "quality" of life you want. It could be your "quality" of life is hidden in the "quantity" of life God gives you.

Putting out the shoes...

"It's the most wonderful time of the year."  I am reminded of Christmas when I was a little girl.  The house was dark and I just couldn't wait until morning!  I would sneak into the living room, with a flashlight in hand, while trying to be as quiet as possible. The toy I had asked for would be there.  It was a wonderful feeling!

We didn't have a fireplace to hang our stockings, but we did put our shoes under the tree.  The shoes would be filled with an assortment of nuts just waiting for us to crack open and dig the sweet meats from each shell.  Our shoes would be topped off with an apple on one shoe and an orange on the other.  Santa was a wonderful man.

It didn't matter how much we believed in Santa Claus, We always knew the reason for Christmas.  It was the birthday of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.  I can't remember a time that I didn't know about Jesus; my mother made sure we knew the real reason for Christmas.  My prayer for you is to know the real reason we celebrate this wonderful time of the year and share Jesus with your children.

It's me again Lord, thanking you for the memories of Christmas.

A little Georgia Wisdom saying make memories with your children and grandchildren and celebrate the birth of our Saviour.

Everyday's a Picnic

Growing up in the '50s was an adventure.  My cousins, Bruce and Earl, lived across the dirt road from us.  Bruce and I spent many hours roaming the pastures, woods, and fields.  We walked barefoot and didn't seem to notice the rocks, hot red Georgia clay, and thorns.  Strange that today a trip across the grassy yard without shoes is a major ordeal.

Near Bruce's house was a deep ditch.  We loved that ditch.  Many days were spent sliding down the banks of the ditch; walking on a board bridge across the ditch; and hiding from attacking forces in the ditch.  This ditch was a fortress that could not be penetrated. We were a strong force against evil!  When we were covered with the red dust from the ditch, we would find other adventures to keep two children occupied for the rest of a hot summer day. These adventures would last well into the evening when the lightening bugs made their appearance and taunted us to catch them.  Mason jar in hand, we filled our tiny world with light and then released them to catch another night.

Lunch was always the main meal of the day.  We referred to lunch as dinner; the evening meal was supper. Mama would have fresh vegetables from the garden; fried potatoes; cornbread; and tea.  Bruce and I would make our plates and carry our food outside to eat.  We had a picnic every day!  We just didn't realize how lucky we were growing up in small community of relatives where there were no fears and small children roamed freely to explore God's world as only children can see it.  Our imaginations had no limits.

It's me again Lord, thanking you for childhood friends who made growing up an adventure.

Just a little Georgia Wisdom reminds you to call up a childhood friend and reminisce about old times.

"Where Everybody Knows Your Name"

Help me!  What in the world was I thinking!  Entertaining three kids, who had been sentenced the day before to a day indoors because of rain, is a challenge.  This morning was shrouded in fog, but became an invitation to a typical fall day.  You know the one, warm, clear, and just right for a trip to town.  We started off with breakfast at Burger King.

 "I don't want to go." whined Will.  In an upbeat voice, I politely told him he was outnumbered.  We met my friend Kathy for breakfast.  There is nothing like a road trip to the bathroom (with all three children in Burger King crowns in tow talking in a loud whisper, "We're going to the bathroom.").  Our breakfast ended after two more trips to the bathroom, three falls from the Burger King booth seat, and sticky pancake syrup on pants. (My friend Kathy thinks I will be honored with Sainthood.)

Aha, you would think that would have been enough! But wait!  This story gets better.  Not wanting to end my joyous trip with three wonderful children, we go to the Dollar Tree.  Yes, another store now knows that I am known as "Nanny."  Oh, I am enjoying this.  I have become a celebrity.  I am in a place where everybody knows my name!  Let's not stop here!  No!  We need to go to the bathroom!  On to Wal-Mart!

The bathroom was empty, thank goodness, when we invaded.  Each to his/her own stall, I shouted and called each one by name.  We have the bathroom road trip over, and it is on to the toy section.  The mission:  Show Nanny what you would like for Papa and her to buy them for Christmas.  This took awhile and was interrupted only by trips to (yes, you guessed it) to the bathroom.  Wally World is another place that now knows my name.  I'm going to have my name in lights and sign Nanny autographs.

We ended our journey with a picnic in the park.  Will is a sheriff with a gun and handcuffs.  Julia is sporting a hair piece, and Gracie has cups for her baby.  All three have silly bands.  It has been an awesome day and the best part:  I am their Nanny and everybody knows my name.

It's me again, Lord thanking you for wonderful grandchildren that show you the world through innocent eyes.

A little Georgia Wisdom: Enjoy the moments, even the embarrassing ones, for they make memories.

Precious Memories

Yesterday was the an end of a very long journey.  It was the end of an era in which there were good times on a swing built by the hands of a loving father; a cute little dress made from the talented hands of a loving mother; and the fun times of a family as they enjoyed homemade meals together on Sundays;  last minute Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve; and laughter. Those days are gone forever; now it is time to move forward. We tried to hold on as long as we could, but it is gone.  Only memories remain. No, it was not the date of the passing of our parents, but the realization. The time one knows it will never be the same.

One Christmas morning when I was about four years old (we were staying at my grandparents) there was a tricycle under the tree.  What a wonderful gift from Santa!  I knew it was Santa because there was his foot print in the ashes of the fireplace.  That was all the proof  needed of a visit from Ole St. Nick. This wonderful memory can't be erased.  It is 58 years old and it is as clear today as it was when it was the twinkle in the eyes of a young child.

When Mama passed away, she left me her love for reading, writing and learning..  At an early age she read to us.  Later I will tell you about a school teacher she, my brothers, Dwayne and Eddie, and I had the honor of having at Demorest Elementary. Mrs. Turner loved reading and passed this on to her students. That's a story for another day.

Daddy left a legacy of work ethics and a sense of acceptance. He was orphaned at an early age and family was so important to him.  Everyone who came to our house became a member of our family.

My children and grandchildren will have their own memories, and they will be good ones too.

It's me again, Lord thanking you for your grace that sustains us through grief.

A little Georgia Wisdom reminding you to save your precious memories.

Purging the Old

One day we wake up and realize that we are hanging on to the past.  We hold on to unwanted memories, unwanted reminders of mistakes we have made; and we realize that we are wasting our energy on moments in time we can't change. Have you ever thought perhaps no one remembers those events but you?  It is time to purge those thoughts from the depths of our brain and begin living.

How many times have you  found yourself asking forgiveness for the same sins?  Jesus forgives the first time we sincerely ask.  Then why do we insist on hanging on to forgiven sins?  Forgive yourself, purge the old thoughts and unwanted memories, and let God wash the dust and dirt of those long forgiven sins away from your heart forever.

It's me again, Lord.  I want to begin purging the old from my heart and replace it with the freshness of a new beginning.

Just a little big of Georgia Wisdom based on the experience of a Georgia girl.