My momma, God love her, was a sane and sensible woman. She had emotional strength and reserve like no other. Being a widow at 34 years of age while tending to a small farm and eight growing children, Momma had to be resourceful, smart, and CALM. Yes, these three attributes described her to a T. The following facts about her attest to her strength and durability as a survivor. God had her back.

Resourceful. Momma always found a way for her kiddos to get out of her hair and keep busy. Something on the farm often needed tending. One memory involved the many buckets of old, useless nails my dad was forever bringing home from auctions. “You kids get outside now and get a bucket of those nails in the tool shed. Find a hammer and straighten out any crooked ones so your dad can use them again.” Great return on that nickel bucket!

Another fond memory was having to run to the garden to fetch an armload of various vegetables and always a head of cabbage. Returning to the house, Momma gathered our gems, rinsed off the dirt, chopped away and put all those vitamins in a huge pot. She added tomato juice and ground beef. With homemade bread, we ate like kings. Best hamburger soup ever!

Lastly, Momma found secondary uses for everything. Not only did hairpins curl, but they also served as great pimple poppers and ear wax removal tools! Just when you thought Momma was going to pin curl your hair for church, a quick check of the face and ears was in order!

Smart. Momma could sew! Every holiday, she made new curtains for the kitchen windows. Always festive, we cheaply celebrated Easter, Halloween and Christmas. Cut from newspaper, she patterned several jumpers, skirts and nighties for the girls. Snip, stitch, and shazam…..we headed for school in style. Halloween costumes were most inventive that she created from scraps and remnants. One such recall, she dyed a few old bath towels brown, made another newspaper pattern, and Presto Chango, brother Frankie had a monkey costume! Thanks Momma!

Calm. Likely her greatest asset, Momma knew how to discipline without popping her cork. Eight kiddos in a nine year span. No room for petty arguments or drama. Her methods resulted in no physical force, no swearing, and genius mentality. One such event I will never forget involved brother Frankie and myself. We were watching cartoons, sharing Daddy’s big overstuffed chair. At commercial break, we began to argue with its untruths. We got the better of Momma who was in the kitchen cutting up a chicken for dinner. With towel over her shoulder and a butcher knife in hand, she silently marched into the living room, retrieved the television cord and cut it from the socket! She unplugged the short end of the cord, placed it in her apron pocket and firmly stated, “There, now you won’t argue. It will be awhile before you watch tv again. Now get outside to play, and don’t come in until I call you for dinner.” Yikes, she meant business! I’m still puzzled why she never was electrocuted.

Another hot, sultry day in summer saw all eight misfits at the kitchen table eating lunch. Spatting back and forth, we denied it was out turn for dishes or cleaning up. Mom quickly intervened and told us not to worry and to get outside to play. We should have known she was up to something greater than us.

Called to dinner, we rushed to the house to wash hands and head for the table. Yum! Goulash, fresh green beans and homemade bread with butter. There were no plates or silverware! Momma had provided a most healthy, lovely dinner on WAX PAPER! “In the name of the Father, Son….Amen” she led us in prayer. Not a giggle or word was heard as we nibbled in silence.

As we continued in the quiet, Momma stood near one of the cupboards, opened the door and pointed. “See this list? It includes all of the jobs that have to be done every day. Each of your names is here with the job you have for the day. It’s how we operate as a family. Are there any questions?”

Silently we nodded in agreement. From that point on, seldom was there a complaint. Oh Momma, you knew how to parent!

Lastly, she always seemed to keep God in our thoughts and actions. After a bickering session with twin sissies Ang and Zen, Momma had had enough. “You three, head upstairs to your bedroom right now. Get out your rosaries, kneel, and start your prayers. Make sure I can hear you and God can too. As you pray, think about your petty actions.”

Once again, few words, big action, peace in the family. No physical force, no belittling, no threats……just common calm and Godly grace. God bless Momma!

Lessons learned: Always trust Momma. She was a survivor and true champion for her children. She gave us more than love. When God’s got your back, anything is possible! Enough said! Thanks for reading!

Circa, on or about Friday, December 3, 1965.  School had been called off because an intense ice storm had blanketed mid-Michigan.  Glass-like crystals adorned the trees and blades of remaining summer flowers and grasses. The dirt road was an endless path of slippery, sloping shine.

Momma would not have us sleep in any later than 8:00 a.m. Chores were quickly completed, oatmeal consumed, and the day was ours, ALL DAY LONG!

Every December, Pops had always made a special day for tree hunting. He’d gas up his loving Massey Ferguson, loosen the old wooden logging sled from the overgrown grasses, situate his eight younguns in place, and head for the woods. Brrrrrr.  Sweet, smiling memories. This year, however, would be different.

Early the previous August, Daddy suffered a massive stroke. Just like that, he was gone from us forever. We would not and could not forget his love for his farm and family.  As a result of our misfortune, brother Frankie, sister Suzie Q., and I decided this ice-filled day would be spent traversing the woods in search of the perfect holiday tree!  Equipped with a rope, coping saw and our galoshes, we headed for the woods.

Not having Dad’s expertise in proper height or dimensions of the perfect tree, we continued to hunt, and hunt, and hunt. “That one’s too tall!” I barked.

“That one has a hole in the side and we can’t cut it down. It’s got a bird nest in there too,” chirped Suzie Q. Frankie hatched a new plan.

“Since we can’t find one here, how about we sneak down to the Daniels’  farm. They’ve got that big field that they don’t use. I see the perfect tree every time the school bus drives past it.  I’m tellin ya, it’s the perfect size. Old Man Daniels won’t care. No one will see us!”

I should have known not to trust Frankie. He was always getting into trouble for senseless antics.  Today would be no different as Suz and I battled the sleet and maneuvered the glassy road.

This solitary fir was like no other. From the road it appeared the ideal size and shape. Momma would be proud of our efforts and the Christmas spirit was beginning to have a warm feel.

Negotiating a rusty fence, we made way to the perfect find. We quickly worked to cut the tree and return home. As Frankie cut, who should drive by but “the boys”, Tom, Dick, and Harry Harrison. Three brothers out hunting for whatever varmints sat waiting for their untimely death. They slowed the truck as Tom yelled,

“What you kids doin’? Coppin’ a tree? Your place not good enough? Ha, looks like you got a beaut there! Merry Christmas!” Off they slid.

Scared and shaken, I whispered, “Oh geez, now we’re dead! I just knew somebody would see us stealin’. Do you think they’ll call the police?”

Frankie, the confident know all, added, “Nah, they won’t call. Didn’t ya see ‘em laughin’? There’s nothin’ to worry about. Come on, let’s get home. It’s gettin’ dark and this sleet is gettin’ cold.”

Quickly, we roped up the fallen pine and headed back on the ice.  One mile, one hour, one prized tree. We would be heroes to the family.

Slippin’ and slidin’ were challenging enough for us. Half way back, neighbors Bonnie and Ben slowed to a stop to greet us. “You kids got a nice tree there. How about we get that in the trunk and get you in this warm car. We’ll have you home in no time.”

Soaked and shivering, Suzi Q. stood wide-eyed and added, “Ahh, no thank you. We will walk. Momma would be mad if we didn’t get home on our own. Merry Christmas Mr. and Mrs. Gray.”

Darkness had arrived as we made our way up the drive. We leaned the tree against the house and entered jubilantly. “Momma, we got a tree for Christmas. It’s covered with ice, but it’s real nice,” Frankie added.

Dinner, a hot bath, and off to bed. Our day had been successfully completed, until……..

Momma began serving chicken and dumplings as she inquired, “So where did that tree come from? If you say the woods, I know better. The Grays called and said they saw you on the Daniels’ farm with that tree. Is that true?”

Her voice meant only one thing: TROUBLE. Sheepishly I replied, “Yes, Momma that’s true. Frankie thought it would be perfect for us. Anyway, it stood all alone in the field, right Frankie?”

Momma was never more serious.  “You know what you did was wrong. Trespassing, and stealing a tree. Well, now you need to make things right with the Danielses. You all need to gather whatever monies you have, march yourselves back down to the neighbors, apologize and give the money you have for that crazy tree. Since it’s dark, you will complete the deed early tomorrow morning. Is that clear?”  All nodding in agreement, we three felons sat glassy eyed and pathetic.

Apologies made. Total paid, $3.82. And that tree? It leaned, it was too tall, it was UGLY!  Momma managed to make it work as she secured it to the wall with baling twine and nails! Thanks for reading and Merry Christmas!

Lessons learned:  “Life” is not always greener on the other side of the fence.  Be happy and satisfied where you are. If you think something is wrong, it probably is! One way or the other, make good choices. Paybacks can be miserable.

Welcome to my blog of lightheartedness, life lessons, and maybe a little advice.  These three facets have helped to contribute to my sanity or otherwise during my 60+years on this earth. If you find worth in reading, I’m in love. If you find less I will be in like!  Feel free to advise me regarding improvements etcetera. Here goes………

Where to start, how about my meager beginnings?  I was raised with seven brothers and sisters on a small farm in the Midwest. According to parental facts, there was no television, little money, country living, and lots of love. As a result, Mom and Pops were blessed with eight lively lovebugs in nine years! I fell in at #2, with twin sisters arriving just 9 months later!  Overwhelmed and diaper laden, Momma and Pops had some decisions to make regarding feedings, sleeping arrangements and raising four girls all under the age of two!

Those twin girls, Angela and Zenia, surpassed me in so many ways. They walked before I did, wore a bra first, had boyfriends, and celebrated womanhood just to name a few. My devoted nickname became “Puny.” My defenses were few and I had to think fast if I was going to make it with my seven competitors.  HUMOR and SMARTS! If I couldn’t join them, I had to fight them. Humor and bookishness became my strengths.

Braless and flat chested, I entered junior high with these sure assets and a small dose of nerdiness. My grades were above average, and I often giggled with many friends from various circles.

Seventh grade was rather uneventful. Eighth grade began with heightened excitement. I was still braless and could only hope the two fried eggs on my chest would begin to surface. As I walked in to the first day of World Geography, I took a seat at the front circle of desks.  Who should appear but three of the most popular pubescent, studs. They took their seats and my heart just fluttered. OMGoodness, how did I get so lucky to have them sit so near? Had I gotten cuter over the summer? Must be my new outfit. Must be the tan. Had my time come?

Michael, the most handsome in my opinion, placed his arm around me, rubbing my back and inquired about my summer. OMGosh, HE’S TALKING TO ME!  Paul, the dreamboat, added that I did look a little different as he flipped my curly locks. Brian just smiled his lazy, crazy self and I was thrice in like!

All of a sudden, as Michael continued to rub my back, he cockingly declared, “Nope, guys, nothing has changed. She still doesn’t. Not a bra yet.”  The chuckles ensued.

Not to be embarrassed or outdone, I quickly fibbed, “Well guys, if you must know, the bra is in my locker. A snap broke in gym class and I can’t wear it right now. I hope you’re done touching me, because I’m done enjoying it.”

Again, chuckles surrounded us and I was a part of the laughter. It became my saving grace from that point.

Whether I needed to or not, from that day forward, I began wearing a bra.  It did not fit correctly until after I got to school. How’s that, you say?

Momma always made us wear white JCPenney anklets. When I arrived to school, my empty bra was quickly filled with those lovely foot covers. I had only to remember two things: a) not to forward run into anyone, and b) dress fast for gym class so no one would take notice! In my own mind, I became the best looking 32AA in eighth grade!

Lessons learned:  Think quick and laugh! Keep one step ahead of anyone who thinks you can be outsmarted.

Laugh and the world laughs with you. A good sense of humor goes a long way.  The ability to laugh at my social awkwardness and essentially all fumbles throughout life have endeared me to others.

Thanks for chuckling with me!

Welcome to this blog of lightheartedness, learning, and love.  Story-telling and writing have long been passions of mine. Being reared in a large family on a small farm provided plenty of subject matter.  Regardless of the situation, regardless of the sibling competition, God has been a main dish for my 60+ years of strength and positive memories. His endless patience and love continue to sustain me.

My outlook on life has always been on the positive swing, hence, you are cordially invited to partake and share in the many “foods” that have been on my life’s table!

Cheers and Bon Appetit’!