Several times this past week as I passed the Health Department I noticed a sign regarding the H1N1 flu shots were being given today. Not knowing any details I thought I should investigate further. I discovered the shots are given from 4-6 in the evening only and one has to 'qualify' to get one. You are right. I don't qualify! It seems I am 'over the age limit' for those who can get the shot at this time. A person has to have a chronic illness also to be eligible. Well, that I have, but the age factor overrides the chronic illness. I was also told the regular flu shot is no longer being manufactured. What's with that?
All this seems a bit odd to me. First, the 'government' should have NO say whatsoever in whether or not I want to be protected, but they do. That wonderful health care plan that Obama and Pelosi have to offer is not yet in effect, and they are already choosing who can get the shot. I feel if they ever get that through the only people that will 'qualify' for benefits will either be illegals or terrorists. That seems to be the ones Obama caters to now, so why would he not make sure they are the healthy ones. Then there is this. Did you know that those who are incarcerated got their flu shots even before the health care workers! It is important to keep those who break the law alive so we can support them in fine style behind bars. What is wrong with that picture?
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Coffee with Cream
I am enjoying a cup of hot coffee with whipping cream. I remember a taste of coffee when I was a teenager that I have not been able to repeat. I thought something was wrong with the coffee, until I discovered using whipping cream gave me the flavor I had stored in my memory. I recall being at a ball game, in Kentucky, with friends and the chill in the air gave me a need for something warm. I tasted my friend's coffee with cream (at that time I was not a coffee drinker) and that taste lingered over many years. So many things have changed over the years.
First off, these days I would not be tasting things from someone else's cup. The fear of germs does not allow us to be so cavalier in our behavior. Today things are not as simple as back then. When one used cream in their coffee, it was actual cream, the kind that came to the top of the milk when it settled. Watered down was not part of the process then. Today cream is not really cream. It is part cream, part milk - there we get half and half. I don't want watered down; I want the real thing, that taste that has lingered over the ages.
I recall having a cup of hot cocoa. It makes my mouth water just thinking of that pot of hot cocoa simmering on the old wood stove. It was made with real milk, not the watered down, no fat, no taste blue stuff that is supposed to be healthy for you. I query - how EVER did our ancestors live! Why, today it is unthinkable to use what God gave us. We have to doctor it up or tone it down for the sake of our longevity.
One cannot enjoy lard, it is bad for you. One should not eat red meat, it will clog up the veins. One should never use real butter, only margarine will do. It is a wonder I am living. I was watching a TV program about a mother giving birth having had no ultra sound, no prenatal vitamins and without the monthly to weekly visit to the doctor. Well folks. My mother had none of this. I in fact was born in a log cabin, not a hospital, no doctor was present, only a neighbor posing as a midwife.
For just shy of 97 years my mother cooked with pure lard. It was in the beans that were a staple at two meals for as long as I can remember. She actually FRIED potatoes in that same lard, lard that came from frying bacon. O, what a taste! I am beginning to feel hungry. She made biscuits from scratch, using real milk with a bit of cream in it. She greased the pan with pure lard and brushed it over the top of the unbaked biscuits.
Another staple was the twice-a-day cornbread which was generously covered with butter. It too was made with milk - buttermilk which came from churning butter. O, the taste! This too had lard as a lubricant in the bottom of the baking pan. She used a bit extra so the cornbread would yield a crusty brown crust. How dare she feed us all such horrid things. If she was trying to kill us off, it didn't work! Here I am, the younger of the quartet that lived on the farm, age 72, still living as are all but one of my siblings. He died as a result of war, not of bad eating habits.
As for meat, we ate the meat we had available, unaware it might be bad for us. I guess not having a lot of meat is what saved us all from certain premature death. We ate freshly killed chicken that flopped around on the ground without a head as blood came pouring out. Imagine what animal rights people would do with that one! The bunny rabbits that hopped across the fields often lost their life via a gun held by my dad. It was then placed in a pouch on the back of his hutting jacket to be carried home to process it for the skillet. I never watched that as it was a 'man thing' the skinning of wild game. I have eaten squirrel, pheasant, and little birds of some sort. I was never one to dwell on how it came to the table. I was just glad that it did.
On the farm we didn't butcher the cow, we fed it, milked it, and used the milk. Was it pasteurized? I am not sure that word had yet been invented. I spent many evenings carrying a lantern to the barn so mother could see while milking the cow. I wore boots to tromp through whatever gunk was in the area. You can use your imagination there. What we did, was milk the cow, strain the milk to free it from any 'oddities' that may have landed in the bucket when the cow raised her hoof to ward off a fly or something of that nature. When the milk had settled, the cream was skimmed from the top to be used to make butter. What was left from making butter became buttermilk. When the milk was skimmed it became cottage cheese. All of this without government inspectors with lengthy guidelines telling us how things had to be done. How ever did we survive!
I think I should ponder these things while the cornbread bakes, the potatoes brown up in the iron skillet in a sea of real lard and the brown beans simmer on the back burner. I might even say a prayer, thanking Him for the food He has provided. I have more faith in Him than in our elected leaders. Anyone hungry???
First off, these days I would not be tasting things from someone else's cup. The fear of germs does not allow us to be so cavalier in our behavior. Today things are not as simple as back then. When one used cream in their coffee, it was actual cream, the kind that came to the top of the milk when it settled. Watered down was not part of the process then. Today cream is not really cream. It is part cream, part milk - there we get half and half. I don't want watered down; I want the real thing, that taste that has lingered over the ages.
I recall having a cup of hot cocoa. It makes my mouth water just thinking of that pot of hot cocoa simmering on the old wood stove. It was made with real milk, not the watered down, no fat, no taste blue stuff that is supposed to be healthy for you. I query - how EVER did our ancestors live! Why, today it is unthinkable to use what God gave us. We have to doctor it up or tone it down for the sake of our longevity.
One cannot enjoy lard, it is bad for you. One should not eat red meat, it will clog up the veins. One should never use real butter, only margarine will do. It is a wonder I am living. I was watching a TV program about a mother giving birth having had no ultra sound, no prenatal vitamins and without the monthly to weekly visit to the doctor. Well folks. My mother had none of this. I in fact was born in a log cabin, not a hospital, no doctor was present, only a neighbor posing as a midwife.
For just shy of 97 years my mother cooked with pure lard. It was in the beans that were a staple at two meals for as long as I can remember. She actually FRIED potatoes in that same lard, lard that came from frying bacon. O, what a taste! I am beginning to feel hungry. She made biscuits from scratch, using real milk with a bit of cream in it. She greased the pan with pure lard and brushed it over the top of the unbaked biscuits.
Another staple was the twice-a-day cornbread which was generously covered with butter. It too was made with milk - buttermilk which came from churning butter. O, the taste! This too had lard as a lubricant in the bottom of the baking pan. She used a bit extra so the cornbread would yield a crusty brown crust. How dare she feed us all such horrid things. If she was trying to kill us off, it didn't work! Here I am, the younger of the quartet that lived on the farm, age 72, still living as are all but one of my siblings. He died as a result of war, not of bad eating habits.
As for meat, we ate the meat we had available, unaware it might be bad for us. I guess not having a lot of meat is what saved us all from certain premature death. We ate freshly killed chicken that flopped around on the ground without a head as blood came pouring out. Imagine what animal rights people would do with that one! The bunny rabbits that hopped across the fields often lost their life via a gun held by my dad. It was then placed in a pouch on the back of his hutting jacket to be carried home to process it for the skillet. I never watched that as it was a 'man thing' the skinning of wild game. I have eaten squirrel, pheasant, and little birds of some sort. I was never one to dwell on how it came to the table. I was just glad that it did.
On the farm we didn't butcher the cow, we fed it, milked it, and used the milk. Was it pasteurized? I am not sure that word had yet been invented. I spent many evenings carrying a lantern to the barn so mother could see while milking the cow. I wore boots to tromp through whatever gunk was in the area. You can use your imagination there. What we did, was milk the cow, strain the milk to free it from any 'oddities' that may have landed in the bucket when the cow raised her hoof to ward off a fly or something of that nature. When the milk had settled, the cream was skimmed from the top to be used to make butter. What was left from making butter became buttermilk. When the milk was skimmed it became cottage cheese. All of this without government inspectors with lengthy guidelines telling us how things had to be done. How ever did we survive!
I think I should ponder these things while the cornbread bakes, the potatoes brown up in the iron skillet in a sea of real lard and the brown beans simmer on the back burner. I might even say a prayer, thanking Him for the food He has provided. I have more faith in Him than in our elected leaders. Anyone hungry???
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Another speech, but not in my hometown
Another speech, another wasted day. That is what I think about Obama coming to Cincinnati on Labor Day. Tuesday! What is he thinking? Does he really think he can keep the attention of a young child for half an hour? O, if only our teachers had that knack. I am sure they will agree, trying to keep a kindergartner focused on ANYTHING for half an hour is quite impossible. Most of them can't even sit watching a cartoon which is more interesting to them than a man talking with a teleprompter. I can see where high school students might listen. I feel sure even some of them would not be interested other than figuring it is a good way to get out of class. What IS the President thinking?
What is with all the speeches? That is not what people expected when the voted for him. The speeches were appropriate during the campaign. Now he should be putting those 'promises' into actions. Where are the answers people are needing concerning the economy? Where are the jobs he promised were forthcoming? What good has the infamous stimulus created? I see nothing positive in either of those things.
I am a grandmother, just a modicum of education, no great mind, just an ordinary human being with nothing more to offer than common sense. Now that I have. Common sense tells you this constant talking by the President is not fixing any of the problems. Common sense certainly lets one know a young child will get nothing substantial from a half hour speech. Obama says education is important, and that is very true. So, let the teachers use that half hour to TEACH. Yes, I believe in freedom of speech. I am not seeing a two-way freedom here. The teachers are not given the freedom to decline. They are being told this is to be part of their day. How free is that?
I don't have children in school. I do have grandchildren that attend. When I look at each one of them I can only see one that might be interested in listening to this mandatory speech. When I was a child I would have been more in the ' who is Obama' category. My parents did not try to push politics to me as a child. Why should they? Children are not even allowed to vote. In time, when my age was appropriate, they informed me, let me make up my own mind. They did not insist I follow their path. That is the American way. To see America getting into pushing political ideas down to their children just because Obama thinks it is right makes no sense to me. I feel a twinge of concern. Is this how the destructive leaders in other countries behave? How about Kim Jong Il? How did he gain control of the Korean people? Is this what was done by Saddam Huissan when he gained control of the Iraqi people? I see pictures of children being told that killing the infidel will gain them great favor in the hereafter at a very early age. I am sure the indoctrination of these countries didn't happen suddenly. I am sure the common folk felt at ease with these men in the beginning. How does a whole country wind up being controlled by one person with off the wall ideas? I feel sure it began by controlling the minds of the younger children.
I pray America regains her common sense. Stop these ideas before they are entrenched into our country. I already see too many young people who think 'getting things for nothing' is a good thing. It is NOT. What one does not work to attain is wasted. I plead with parents. Insist that your child earns what he has. Instill good work ethics in your child. Don't leave it to a teleprompter to teach them right from wrong. It is the duty of a parent to shape a child, not someone residing in Washington D. C. Stand up for freedom.
There is hope for the weary. You will be pleased to know ... here in London, the 'speech' was not be aired. How blessed we are in this community to have leaders with common sense. I praise you who made this decision.
What is with all the speeches? That is not what people expected when the voted for him. The speeches were appropriate during the campaign. Now he should be putting those 'promises' into actions. Where are the answers people are needing concerning the economy? Where are the jobs he promised were forthcoming? What good has the infamous stimulus created? I see nothing positive in either of those things.
I am a grandmother, just a modicum of education, no great mind, just an ordinary human being with nothing more to offer than common sense. Now that I have. Common sense tells you this constant talking by the President is not fixing any of the problems. Common sense certainly lets one know a young child will get nothing substantial from a half hour speech. Obama says education is important, and that is very true. So, let the teachers use that half hour to TEACH. Yes, I believe in freedom of speech. I am not seeing a two-way freedom here. The teachers are not given the freedom to decline. They are being told this is to be part of their day. How free is that?
I don't have children in school. I do have grandchildren that attend. When I look at each one of them I can only see one that might be interested in listening to this mandatory speech. When I was a child I would have been more in the ' who is Obama' category. My parents did not try to push politics to me as a child. Why should they? Children are not even allowed to vote. In time, when my age was appropriate, they informed me, let me make up my own mind. They did not insist I follow their path. That is the American way. To see America getting into pushing political ideas down to their children just because Obama thinks it is right makes no sense to me. I feel a twinge of concern. Is this how the destructive leaders in other countries behave? How about Kim Jong Il? How did he gain control of the Korean people? Is this what was done by Saddam Huissan when he gained control of the Iraqi people? I see pictures of children being told that killing the infidel will gain them great favor in the hereafter at a very early age. I am sure the indoctrination of these countries didn't happen suddenly. I am sure the common folk felt at ease with these men in the beginning. How does a whole country wind up being controlled by one person with off the wall ideas? I feel sure it began by controlling the minds of the younger children.
I pray America regains her common sense. Stop these ideas before they are entrenched into our country. I already see too many young people who think 'getting things for nothing' is a good thing. It is NOT. What one does not work to attain is wasted. I plead with parents. Insist that your child earns what he has. Instill good work ethics in your child. Don't leave it to a teleprompter to teach them right from wrong. It is the duty of a parent to shape a child, not someone residing in Washington D. C. Stand up for freedom.
There is hope for the weary. You will be pleased to know ... here in London, the 'speech' was not be aired. How blessed we are in this community to have leaders with common sense. I praise you who made this decision.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Meeting of the mindless
I sent this to my sister-in-law. She said; : "Hip! Hip! Hoorah! Glenn Beck could be your brother!" Is that a good thing?
Below is the article I sent to our local paper.
I just returned from a meeting with a representative from Senator Voinovich's office. You can imagine the crowd that attended. Why it was almost impossible to get a parking space close enough to walk -NOT! Once inside the Madison County Courthouse getting close enough to hear what the lady had to say was nearly impossible. NOT! Everyone that attended were very calm and quiet. NOT!
Yes, I was there by chance. There was an article in this morning's paper stating someone would be at the courthouse to hear concerns. I had not read the morning paper, but a friend of mine did. She called to ask if I would like to attend. Of course I wanted to attend since I had not been told of the Town Hall meetings that were held in Columbus a while back. Those things seem to be kept under wrap in the local papers. I wonder why. Are we the people supposed to be interested in what is going on with our national, state and local representatives? I certain hope that is the case. As far as I know the United States, by the grace of God, is STILL governed for the people and by the people? I know from watching the news things are about to change - in some instances already have changed.
I am asking myself why our local paper, which also should be for the people as the people are paying their salary by reading it, did not announce this meeting until hours before it was to happen. Is it that the local paper is well aware of the mind set of the people who vote? I think not.
My friend and I were two of the four who first to arrive. We had to ask where this meeting was to take place. Soon a diminutive, well coifed, well-dressed lady arrived. She sat at a desk placed in the halls of the building. I was thankful we were not standing outside in the hot sun.
The questioning began. The lady said she would like to take those who had 'personal' concerns first. She would take those into another office to talk. I asked what she considered as personal. She informed me it was for a concern interested only to one party. I asked if she could take our concerns first as we each had lives beyond this hour. Others agreed with me on that the concerns of the entire group should be addressed first.
You know how it is when you ask a question and when the answer comes you have no idea what good the asking could have been? Well, we sure got a lot of that. We do know for a fact that the lady 'would take our concerns back to the office". We asked point blank questions. She could, or would not give us a solid answer. The questions ranged from our concerns about our rights being taken away by the present government to how all of this affected the lady. It seems she has a 'government healthcare' program, so of course she was not concerned any of this would affect her. When asked how Voinovich felt about any subject she said she could not speak for him but would take our concerns back to him. How convenient. We even asked why Voinovich himself could not come and was he planning on any town hall meetings. Of course she did not know where he was but did know he was not planning to have town hall meetings. One gentleman felt the reason she was sent in his stead was because he did not want to face his constituents. After all, he will not be running for office next year, already has his health care system in place with the government. He will retire with a tidy sum of money which amounts to more than he makes as our voice.
Folks, we have no voice! We the people are being lead like sheep to the slaughter. Wake up America! Fight for what is your rights. Don't let some intimidate you to accept what is going on because you are only one voice. That is NOT true! There are many others who feel the same as you do regarding the takeover of the banks, the car companies, Cap and Trade, health care and A.C.O.R.N. Rise up! Make your voice heard. I know today the crowd was small only because no one knew it was happening. By chance those in attendance showed up. Our local paper sure did not give us a heads up. So, what do we do about the fact our local paper prints only what they want you to know? Is there an answer? I think there is. If the paper cannot be nonpartisan then let them go out of business. The same should be true with the banks, the car companies and anyone else who has spent more money than they make expecting to be bailed out by the government. It is NOT the job of the government to make your living or mine. The government has absolutely NO right to take over the healthcare in this country. What this administration is trying to do is to turn us into robots that do the will of someone who has no more ability to lead than I do. But, believe it or not, there are those out there that still think this administration is working FOR us. For those who do, I would suggest you get a bit more insight on what is happening in Washington with Pelosi, Reed, Obama and their cronies. They are ALL working for themselves, not you.
Remember an election is coming up. If these same leaches are in office the next time, blame yourself. We can choose who we want to sit in Washington making rules they have no right to make. That is what happened this last election. There were too many people sitting on their hands looking for a handout. There were too many people who chose not to work to make their own way. That is NOT the American way. From the time this country was formed people worked for what they had. Down through time people have had to work for the things they want. Handing free this and that to those who do not have a good work ethic is not the answer. Even the Bible says (paraphrase) you don't work, you don't eat! Just look around. Because of the unrealistic spending by the government and people who spent more than they can afford, America is close to a deep depression. Don't let the powers kid you, it is still possible even if you hear them say we are coming out of the bad times. Hogwash!
I want the government to give me back the inalienable rights given to me by the Constitution that was put into practice many years ago. Don't tell me I can't speak the name of God. Don't tell me I can't pray. Don't tell me it is my job to give folks money I have worked hard to earn. That is NOT what the Constitution says. As well it is not what it intended. I have no intention of disowning the God of Creation. If you want to, hey, fine with me, but don't you DARE tell me I have to. I don't tell you that you have to share my view. I am telling you that you will never take away what our forefathers set forth as how America should be governed. There is nothing in the Constitution that gives government the right to take over ANYTHING! They are there to work in my best interest under the guides of the rules put in place when we were just a young country. Why does America exist? Has anyone ever thought about that? Well, it is in part because the people were tired of being told what they HAD to do according to someone in government. The ACLU says it is for the 'rights of the people'. I beg to differ with that. They are a group of people trying to make us think like they do. It is just NOT going to happen folks. After a while - and I am thinking that time is now here - the people will rise. We the people will shout you down if necessary to get our point across. If loud talk is all you understand, they so be it. We will shout. That does not make us a radical fringe group.
God Bless America!
Hazel Williams-Jann
email: Hwjann@aol.com
Below is the article I sent to our local paper.
I just returned from a meeting with a representative from Senator Voinovich's office. You can imagine the crowd that attended. Why it was almost impossible to get a parking space close enough to walk -NOT! Once inside the Madison County Courthouse getting close enough to hear what the lady had to say was nearly impossible. NOT! Everyone that attended were very calm and quiet. NOT!
Yes, I was there by chance. There was an article in this morning's paper stating someone would be at the courthouse to hear concerns. I had not read the morning paper, but a friend of mine did. She called to ask if I would like to attend. Of course I wanted to attend since I had not been told of the Town Hall meetings that were held in Columbus a while back. Those things seem to be kept under wrap in the local papers. I wonder why. Are we the people supposed to be interested in what is going on with our national, state and local representatives? I certain hope that is the case. As far as I know the United States, by the grace of God, is STILL governed for the people and by the people? I know from watching the news things are about to change - in some instances already have changed.
I am asking myself why our local paper, which also should be for the people as the people are paying their salary by reading it, did not announce this meeting until hours before it was to happen. Is it that the local paper is well aware of the mind set of the people who vote? I think not.
My friend and I were two of the four who first to arrive. We had to ask where this meeting was to take place. Soon a diminutive, well coifed, well-dressed lady arrived. She sat at a desk placed in the halls of the building. I was thankful we were not standing outside in the hot sun.
The questioning began. The lady said she would like to take those who had 'personal' concerns first. She would take those into another office to talk. I asked what she considered as personal. She informed me it was for a concern interested only to one party. I asked if she could take our concerns first as we each had lives beyond this hour. Others agreed with me on that the concerns of the entire group should be addressed first.
You know how it is when you ask a question and when the answer comes you have no idea what good the asking could have been? Well, we sure got a lot of that. We do know for a fact that the lady 'would take our concerns back to the office". We asked point blank questions. She could, or would not give us a solid answer. The questions ranged from our concerns about our rights being taken away by the present government to how all of this affected the lady. It seems she has a 'government healthcare' program, so of course she was not concerned any of this would affect her. When asked how Voinovich felt about any subject she said she could not speak for him but would take our concerns back to him. How convenient. We even asked why Voinovich himself could not come and was he planning on any town hall meetings. Of course she did not know where he was but did know he was not planning to have town hall meetings. One gentleman felt the reason she was sent in his stead was because he did not want to face his constituents. After all, he will not be running for office next year, already has his health care system in place with the government. He will retire with a tidy sum of money which amounts to more than he makes as our voice.
Folks, we have no voice! We the people are being lead like sheep to the slaughter. Wake up America! Fight for what is your rights. Don't let some intimidate you to accept what is going on because you are only one voice. That is NOT true! There are many others who feel the same as you do regarding the takeover of the banks, the car companies, Cap and Trade, health care and A.C.O.R.N. Rise up! Make your voice heard. I know today the crowd was small only because no one knew it was happening. By chance those in attendance showed up. Our local paper sure did not give us a heads up. So, what do we do about the fact our local paper prints only what they want you to know? Is there an answer? I think there is. If the paper cannot be nonpartisan then let them go out of business. The same should be true with the banks, the car companies and anyone else who has spent more money than they make expecting to be bailed out by the government. It is NOT the job of the government to make your living or mine. The government has absolutely NO right to take over the healthcare in this country. What this administration is trying to do is to turn us into robots that do the will of someone who has no more ability to lead than I do. But, believe it or not, there are those out there that still think this administration is working FOR us. For those who do, I would suggest you get a bit more insight on what is happening in Washington with Pelosi, Reed, Obama and their cronies. They are ALL working for themselves, not you.
Remember an election is coming up. If these same leaches are in office the next time, blame yourself. We can choose who we want to sit in Washington making rules they have no right to make. That is what happened this last election. There were too many people sitting on their hands looking for a handout. There were too many people who chose not to work to make their own way. That is NOT the American way. From the time this country was formed people worked for what they had. Down through time people have had to work for the things they want. Handing free this and that to those who do not have a good work ethic is not the answer. Even the Bible says (paraphrase) you don't work, you don't eat! Just look around. Because of the unrealistic spending by the government and people who spent more than they can afford, America is close to a deep depression. Don't let the powers kid you, it is still possible even if you hear them say we are coming out of the bad times. Hogwash!
I want the government to give me back the inalienable rights given to me by the Constitution that was put into practice many years ago. Don't tell me I can't speak the name of God. Don't tell me I can't pray. Don't tell me it is my job to give folks money I have worked hard to earn. That is NOT what the Constitution says. As well it is not what it intended. I have no intention of disowning the God of Creation. If you want to, hey, fine with me, but don't you DARE tell me I have to. I don't tell you that you have to share my view. I am telling you that you will never take away what our forefathers set forth as how America should be governed. There is nothing in the Constitution that gives government the right to take over ANYTHING! They are there to work in my best interest under the guides of the rules put in place when we were just a young country. Why does America exist? Has anyone ever thought about that? Well, it is in part because the people were tired of being told what they HAD to do according to someone in government. The ACLU says it is for the 'rights of the people'. I beg to differ with that. They are a group of people trying to make us think like they do. It is just NOT going to happen folks. After a while - and I am thinking that time is now here - the people will rise. We the people will shout you down if necessary to get our point across. If loud talk is all you understand, they so be it. We will shout. That does not make us a radical fringe group.
God Bless America!
Hazel Williams-Jann
email: Hwjann@aol.com
Sunday, June 28, 2009
"Ella Dines with the Prince
Anticipation is a wonderful thing. When faced with the unknown all manner of feelings come to light. There were so many what if’s running through my mind I had trouble falling asleep. For days I pondered: will I go, what should I wear. Being only a peasant I have nothing glamorous to impress the prince. Will the Prince be nice, will I make a fool of myself at the dinner table. How will I know which fork to use, will I know where to place the knife, is there a chance I will drop something on my sweater that will leave a bold, ugly stain. Will I know proper etiquette. O, so many what if’s to mar the wonder of the invitation. I just knew I could never be comfortable, I would not fit into the setting. There might be other illuminati from the kingdom in the vicinity. Would they be watching? O! What trauma. I knew I was doomed. I began to wonder whether I should decline the invitation. I thought - that is not possible. One does not turn down an invitation to have dinner with the prince. Doing that might cause me to be banished to the hill country never to be heard of again. Yes, intimidated or not, I had to have dinner with the prince.
Quickly the day approached. Early in the day, I laid out the clothes that I thought I should wear. Elegant they were not. Had I searched every nook and cranny I would not have found anything remotely resembling a ball gown. I remembered it was only a dinner. Possibly I could make do. I mused how thankful I was that I would not be forced onto a dance floor for everyone to see. I would remain less conspicuous seated at the table.
I busied myself all day doing mundane things that all peasants are forced to do. I did the laundry, cleaned the floors, made the hut presentable thinking ahead to the evening which kept creeping closer. It helped to fill the day with chores. There was less time to fret over things to which I had no control. The evening had been set. A driver had been contacted to pick me up. I was to meet the prince at the location which had been chosen earlier. I was thankful I did not have to drive.
I noticed my fingernails needed new polish. I could not go meet the prince with chipped polish. I was sure he would be well manicured. To show respect I stripped the polish, applying a fresh coat. Now if he noticed my hands shaking the nails would look better. Sitting still while the paint was drying was traumatic. I knew if I inadvertently scraped the new polish I would not have time to redo everything. It was almost time to dress. I nervously applied some makeup. Everything had to be perfect for the prince. Smudging the mascara was a no-no. Nervous or not, my hand had to be steady for this. I reminded myself I should have forgone the last cup of coffee. No need to add to the jitters with caffeine.
The phone rang. It was my driver saying the estimated time of arrival was in twenty minutes. I had waited for that call to slip into my chosen outfit. I had to make sure it stayed neat and clean. When the driver showed up, some scattered bits of threads were noticed on my clothing. I often have that problem. I had, just the day before ,fixed an outfit for the brother of the prince. My abilities lie in the transforming of clothing to make others look good. I am comfortable creating clothing for others to wear. I am not so comfortable being the one wearing the finery.
The evening was warm. I was thankful for the air conditioning in the vehicle. The car arrived at our destination in plenty of time to get settled before the prince arrived. We stopped at tables set up to show pictures of the prince. There was even a helmet he had worn in battle. There was a replica of the building which was to be built in his honor. His name was inscribed across the top. There were several weapons he had used in battle. He was victorious in battle. He has won the acclaim of the entire kingdom.
The dining hall was huge. Many tables were covered with white damask clothe. There in front of me was the place settings, which sported several forks, spoons, and a knife. Water glasses were placed just so and a napkin was folded in a festive manner atop a plate. The setting was a far cry from my setup on the deck in my back yard. My fears of knowing which utensil was proper to use surfaced once again. I thought I could just wait to see how the prince chose then follow suit.
Another of my fears was realized. There were crowds of people there. How would I ever survive this? Each person wanted a glimpse of the prince. As he came into the room people were yelling, clapping, moving en masse closer and closer. At this point the prince did not even know I had arrived. He went from table to table appeasing his adoring public. I was spared for the moment. He just passed by where I was seated. Dinner was being served. The salad was placed in front of me. The prince was no where to be seen as the crowd was still seeking his favor. I was thankful the driver had stayed by my side. I could take cues as to my next move. I was more comfortable in the presence of the driver. Over the microphone an announcement was made. Dinner was being served. I wondered; where was the prince? Again I was put at ease by the driver who told me the prince would not be seated at our table. I thought this a bit strange, but what do I know about prince protocol. I felt honored that I was there in close proximity. What more could a peasant girl want.
I was sitting at a table with other dignitaries in their own right. The owner of a firm, his field managers, those who did his bidding were all seated around my driver and me. I felt a bit intimidated only not as much as if I had been seated beside the prince. My nerves began to relax. So far all was going well. Only once did I notice an article of food had dropped on me. I quickly removed it hoping no one else noticed. This was a show-stopper of a gathering. It was all in honor of the prince.
I looked at the food placed before me. It surely didn't resemble the cornbread with soup beans I was used to eating. The food was served in sections which they called courses. At home we just put it on the table, everyone for themselves . There is no special person to serve or clean off the table. It was indeed a different kind of meal. Had the food tasted like paste, it would still have been worth eating. I told the driver I thought the chef had been watching too much TV. Iron Chef is judged on how the food appears on the plate. The evening fare would have judged well. I think I managed to eat all but two bites before the server removed my plate to make room for a dessert almost too pretty to eat. I forced myself, gobbling up every bite. I knew it might be a long time before I was blessed to be in a gathering so elegant. By this time I had purposed to chuck all my reserve choosing just enjoy the whole occasion.
I braced myself. Leaving my seat I headed to another table. I wanted to greet the queen. What a gracious lady she is. I introduced myself. She acknowledged that she was happy to finally meet the one that tailors her son’s clothing. Wow! What a rush. She made me feel comfortable, as did the others sitting around her. This table was not where the prince sat. He was at a different table altogether with many warriors of whom he had battled. Even those he conquered paid tribute.
My night was perfect. I was blessed to have an invitation to dine with the prince. It did not matter that I was not at his table. In fact I felt much relief. I did not have to watch my manners for fear I would not show favor to the prince in a proper manner. I could see him from where I was seated. I could not tell if he was actually looking at me or if he even knew I was there. It did not matter. I knew I was there. I knew why I had accepted the invitation. I knew I was blessed to even be seated in the room for many others could not be there. They missed a lot.
Too soon the prince had to say his goodbyes to his adoring public. Some had come from far off kingdoms just to get a glimpse of the prince. Flash bulbs were going off all over the room. I was glad to be in another location. At one time, I was standing beside the prince when I noticed a camera pointed in our direction. I quickly ducked behind him. I was glad his 6 foot 1 inch frame towered over my 5 foot 2 inch stature. Publicity is something of which I am not comfortable. I do much better sitting in my little corner with needle and thread making others look presentable. I don't think that has changed since I was a child on the farm. I can write much better than I can speak one on one. The words flow when I am alone with no celebrity.
Yes, I was blessed to be invited to dinner with the prince. I will live on the memories for many a day. Someday, somewhere, we might just meet again. I will welcome the opportunity. For now, it is back to the corner. The prince has gone on to conquer other kingdoms. I just hope he remembers the night we dined together.
O, the prince? You want to know his name? I guess I forgot to mention that. I also forgot to mention there were five hundred other people invited to the same dinner. It is true. Dick LeBeau has found favor in the eyes of many. He was honored with a dinner celebrating the fifty years he has been prince (actually more than that, we won't count them). Now his name will be repeated by generations to come. Maybe in years to come there will be grandchildren who say, who is Dick LeBeau. There will be many grandparents telling of this man while relating how the new LeBeau Field House got its name. As for me, I will keep this memory in my heart, remembering the anticipation I felt that was totally unfounded. Again, I have to say thanks to Dick LeBeau for a wonderful evening. I actually had a great time. I did not make a fool of myself trying to have a one on one conversation. O, I suppose I should remember the fact the prince gave me a hug, smiled at me and said he was glad I could come. What a prince.
Quickly the day approached. Early in the day, I laid out the clothes that I thought I should wear. Elegant they were not. Had I searched every nook and cranny I would not have found anything remotely resembling a ball gown. I remembered it was only a dinner. Possibly I could make do. I mused how thankful I was that I would not be forced onto a dance floor for everyone to see. I would remain less conspicuous seated at the table.
I busied myself all day doing mundane things that all peasants are forced to do. I did the laundry, cleaned the floors, made the hut presentable thinking ahead to the evening which kept creeping closer. It helped to fill the day with chores. There was less time to fret over things to which I had no control. The evening had been set. A driver had been contacted to pick me up. I was to meet the prince at the location which had been chosen earlier. I was thankful I did not have to drive.
I noticed my fingernails needed new polish. I could not go meet the prince with chipped polish. I was sure he would be well manicured. To show respect I stripped the polish, applying a fresh coat. Now if he noticed my hands shaking the nails would look better. Sitting still while the paint was drying was traumatic. I knew if I inadvertently scraped the new polish I would not have time to redo everything. It was almost time to dress. I nervously applied some makeup. Everything had to be perfect for the prince. Smudging the mascara was a no-no. Nervous or not, my hand had to be steady for this. I reminded myself I should have forgone the last cup of coffee. No need to add to the jitters with caffeine.
The phone rang. It was my driver saying the estimated time of arrival was in twenty minutes. I had waited for that call to slip into my chosen outfit. I had to make sure it stayed neat and clean. When the driver showed up, some scattered bits of threads were noticed on my clothing. I often have that problem. I had, just the day before ,fixed an outfit for the brother of the prince. My abilities lie in the transforming of clothing to make others look good. I am comfortable creating clothing for others to wear. I am not so comfortable being the one wearing the finery.
The evening was warm. I was thankful for the air conditioning in the vehicle. The car arrived at our destination in plenty of time to get settled before the prince arrived. We stopped at tables set up to show pictures of the prince. There was even a helmet he had worn in battle. There was a replica of the building which was to be built in his honor. His name was inscribed across the top. There were several weapons he had used in battle. He was victorious in battle. He has won the acclaim of the entire kingdom.
The dining hall was huge. Many tables were covered with white damask clothe. There in front of me was the place settings, which sported several forks, spoons, and a knife. Water glasses were placed just so and a napkin was folded in a festive manner atop a plate. The setting was a far cry from my setup on the deck in my back yard. My fears of knowing which utensil was proper to use surfaced once again. I thought I could just wait to see how the prince chose then follow suit.
Another of my fears was realized. There were crowds of people there. How would I ever survive this? Each person wanted a glimpse of the prince. As he came into the room people were yelling, clapping, moving en masse closer and closer. At this point the prince did not even know I had arrived. He went from table to table appeasing his adoring public. I was spared for the moment. He just passed by where I was seated. Dinner was being served. The salad was placed in front of me. The prince was no where to be seen as the crowd was still seeking his favor. I was thankful the driver had stayed by my side. I could take cues as to my next move. I was more comfortable in the presence of the driver. Over the microphone an announcement was made. Dinner was being served. I wondered; where was the prince? Again I was put at ease by the driver who told me the prince would not be seated at our table. I thought this a bit strange, but what do I know about prince protocol. I felt honored that I was there in close proximity. What more could a peasant girl want.
I was sitting at a table with other dignitaries in their own right. The owner of a firm, his field managers, those who did his bidding were all seated around my driver and me. I felt a bit intimidated only not as much as if I had been seated beside the prince. My nerves began to relax. So far all was going well. Only once did I notice an article of food had dropped on me. I quickly removed it hoping no one else noticed. This was a show-stopper of a gathering. It was all in honor of the prince.
I looked at the food placed before me. It surely didn't resemble the cornbread with soup beans I was used to eating. The food was served in sections which they called courses. At home we just put it on the table, everyone for themselves . There is no special person to serve or clean off the table. It was indeed a different kind of meal. Had the food tasted like paste, it would still have been worth eating. I told the driver I thought the chef had been watching too much TV. Iron Chef is judged on how the food appears on the plate. The evening fare would have judged well. I think I managed to eat all but two bites before the server removed my plate to make room for a dessert almost too pretty to eat. I forced myself, gobbling up every bite. I knew it might be a long time before I was blessed to be in a gathering so elegant. By this time I had purposed to chuck all my reserve choosing just enjoy the whole occasion.
I braced myself. Leaving my seat I headed to another table. I wanted to greet the queen. What a gracious lady she is. I introduced myself. She acknowledged that she was happy to finally meet the one that tailors her son’s clothing. Wow! What a rush. She made me feel comfortable, as did the others sitting around her. This table was not where the prince sat. He was at a different table altogether with many warriors of whom he had battled. Even those he conquered paid tribute.
My night was perfect. I was blessed to have an invitation to dine with the prince. It did not matter that I was not at his table. In fact I felt much relief. I did not have to watch my manners for fear I would not show favor to the prince in a proper manner. I could see him from where I was seated. I could not tell if he was actually looking at me or if he even knew I was there. It did not matter. I knew I was there. I knew why I had accepted the invitation. I knew I was blessed to even be seated in the room for many others could not be there. They missed a lot.
Too soon the prince had to say his goodbyes to his adoring public. Some had come from far off kingdoms just to get a glimpse of the prince. Flash bulbs were going off all over the room. I was glad to be in another location. At one time, I was standing beside the prince when I noticed a camera pointed in our direction. I quickly ducked behind him. I was glad his 6 foot 1 inch frame towered over my 5 foot 2 inch stature. Publicity is something of which I am not comfortable. I do much better sitting in my little corner with needle and thread making others look presentable. I don't think that has changed since I was a child on the farm. I can write much better than I can speak one on one. The words flow when I am alone with no celebrity.
Yes, I was blessed to be invited to dinner with the prince. I will live on the memories for many a day. Someday, somewhere, we might just meet again. I will welcome the opportunity. For now, it is back to the corner. The prince has gone on to conquer other kingdoms. I just hope he remembers the night we dined together.
O, the prince? You want to know his name? I guess I forgot to mention that. I also forgot to mention there were five hundred other people invited to the same dinner. It is true. Dick LeBeau has found favor in the eyes of many. He was honored with a dinner celebrating the fifty years he has been prince (actually more than that, we won't count them). Now his name will be repeated by generations to come. Maybe in years to come there will be grandchildren who say, who is Dick LeBeau. There will be many grandparents telling of this man while relating how the new LeBeau Field House got its name. As for me, I will keep this memory in my heart, remembering the anticipation I felt that was totally unfounded. Again, I have to say thanks to Dick LeBeau for a wonderful evening. I actually had a great time. I did not make a fool of myself trying to have a one on one conversation. O, I suppose I should remember the fact the prince gave me a hug, smiled at me and said he was glad I could come. What a prince.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Father's Day
This weekend we celebrate dads. One might think it unimportant to me as my dad has been dead since 1983. That is not the case. I can celebrate yet today because of the things he taught me.
My dad had to become 'the man of the house' at a very young age. His father was killed in a logging accident when my dad was in the third grade. That is when he had to quit school and work to help support the family. He had a very strong work ethic and was an honorable man who did right because it was right to do, not because he was forced to do so. He worked hard and although he had to quit school he had a longing to learn. He read books. In fact, when I was a young girl he went to an auction and bought a complete library of books. It was in an estate sale. Some of those books are still in my possession, not nearly all of them as through the years they were sold or discarded for one reason or another.
Without a formal education my dad continued to learn. At the end of his life he had learned to speak at least two foreign languages. He had a diploma hanging over the fireplace in his study which showed he had finished a fingerprinting course.
He migrated from Kentucky to Ohio in the early 20's to find work to provide for his family, which was now a wife, two children and one on the way. He labored as a tenant farmer during my growing-up years. He was known by everyone as an honest and fair man. He worked as a custodian of a cemetery where he is now buried. He was in the Armed Forces and served as a cook while stationed in Panama. He in fact baked the wedding cake for the Panamanian president while he was there. I still have his cookbook from that time. After leaving the Army he was involved with the National Guard and served with them for several years.
When I was only twelve, he started a new venture. With the help of the entire family he purchased a local restaurant. All of us had some kind of work and put our money in to help pay the down payment. This was the first of five restaurants he owned. In the meantime he was employed at our local police force. He was successful at everything he tried. He worked hard to realize his ambitions.
I look back at his life and see the pain he endured. First his father was killed. His little brother fell in an open fireplace and died from the burns. My dad was the one that had to pull his little brother out of that fire. He had one sister who died in childbirth. Another brother was killed in a motor vehicle accident. His mother also died as the result of an automobile accident. That left only one brother, who died later in life, but before my dad. It seemed everybody he loved was taken from him in a violent manner. His oldest son, my brother was killed in the Korean Conflict, on Pork Chop Hill. I do not remember my father shedding a tear, though I am sure he did. It was years later I finally saw my father cry. That was when my husband was killed in a trucking accident. It seemed to be more than he could bear up under. I cried with him.
He was indeed a mighty man. He was proud of his heritage, but did not flaunt it. You see, his mother was a descendant of Francis Scott Key, the writer of our National Anthem. It was not until this past summer than I discovered a handwritten copy of those famous words on a very old parchment paper. It had been hidden away in a box of letters and cards. It was this connection to the history that helped make my father proud to say he was an American. His lineage was immersed in the field of the law. His grandfather was a judge, and others in his ancestry line were lawyers, judges and the most famous of all was the Attorney for the District of Columbia. Many people only know the famous poem he wrote. He was much more than a poet.
Yes, I celebrate Father's Day by remembering what I was taught by my dad. He was and is yet today very special to me.
My dad had to become 'the man of the house' at a very young age. His father was killed in a logging accident when my dad was in the third grade. That is when he had to quit school and work to help support the family. He had a very strong work ethic and was an honorable man who did right because it was right to do, not because he was forced to do so. He worked hard and although he had to quit school he had a longing to learn. He read books. In fact, when I was a young girl he went to an auction and bought a complete library of books. It was in an estate sale. Some of those books are still in my possession, not nearly all of them as through the years they were sold or discarded for one reason or another.
Without a formal education my dad continued to learn. At the end of his life he had learned to speak at least two foreign languages. He had a diploma hanging over the fireplace in his study which showed he had finished a fingerprinting course.
He migrated from Kentucky to Ohio in the early 20's to find work to provide for his family, which was now a wife, two children and one on the way. He labored as a tenant farmer during my growing-up years. He was known by everyone as an honest and fair man. He worked as a custodian of a cemetery where he is now buried. He was in the Armed Forces and served as a cook while stationed in Panama. He in fact baked the wedding cake for the Panamanian president while he was there. I still have his cookbook from that time. After leaving the Army he was involved with the National Guard and served with them for several years.
When I was only twelve, he started a new venture. With the help of the entire family he purchased a local restaurant. All of us had some kind of work and put our money in to help pay the down payment. This was the first of five restaurants he owned. In the meantime he was employed at our local police force. He was successful at everything he tried. He worked hard to realize his ambitions.
I look back at his life and see the pain he endured. First his father was killed. His little brother fell in an open fireplace and died from the burns. My dad was the one that had to pull his little brother out of that fire. He had one sister who died in childbirth. Another brother was killed in a motor vehicle accident. His mother also died as the result of an automobile accident. That left only one brother, who died later in life, but before my dad. It seemed everybody he loved was taken from him in a violent manner. His oldest son, my brother was killed in the Korean Conflict, on Pork Chop Hill. I do not remember my father shedding a tear, though I am sure he did. It was years later I finally saw my father cry. That was when my husband was killed in a trucking accident. It seemed to be more than he could bear up under. I cried with him.
He was indeed a mighty man. He was proud of his heritage, but did not flaunt it. You see, his mother was a descendant of Francis Scott Key, the writer of our National Anthem. It was not until this past summer than I discovered a handwritten copy of those famous words on a very old parchment paper. It had been hidden away in a box of letters and cards. It was this connection to the history that helped make my father proud to say he was an American. His lineage was immersed in the field of the law. His grandfather was a judge, and others in his ancestry line were lawyers, judges and the most famous of all was the Attorney for the District of Columbia. Many people only know the famous poem he wrote. He was much more than a poet.
Yes, I celebrate Father's Day by remembering what I was taught by my dad. He was and is yet today very special to me.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
A MUST read for ALL voters
This is a paragraph from an email I received from an American who is living in a socialized country . Every American voter should read what she has to say.
*********************
Yes, Obama is ruining our country, at the rate of an express train. BUT that is what we voted in, we wanted him to fix our money and said that everything else was unimportant--we got what we paid for (as a country, not as individuals, because I know neither you nor I voted him in!!!) Believe me, I'm living in a country that practices what he is trying to turn our country into and it STINKS, all those people who voted him in should live in a socialist practicing country for awhile and see how it Really is, NOTHING gets done and NOBODY is happy. In America when you walk down the street you make eye contact and smile or say hi or tip your hat or Something--that NEVER happens here, nobody laughs, nobody smiles at anyone, nobody chats with a stranger--it's very depressing. Being nice is seen as a weakness and the only "important" people are yourself and your family/friends, everyone else is considered fair game. It's very sad and its where we are headed. *sigh* enough of that. :-)
*********************
Yes, Obama is ruining our country, at the rate of an express train. BUT that is what we voted in, we wanted him to fix our money and said that everything else was unimportant--we got what we paid for (as a country, not as individuals, because I know neither you nor I voted him in!!!) Believe me, I'm living in a country that practices what he is trying to turn our country into and it STINKS, all those people who voted him in should live in a socialist practicing country for awhile and see how it Really is, NOTHING gets done and NOBODY is happy. In America when you walk down the street you make eye contact and smile or say hi or tip your hat or Something--that NEVER happens here, nobody laughs, nobody smiles at anyone, nobody chats with a stranger--it's very depressing. Being nice is seen as a weakness and the only "important" people are yourself and your family/friends, everyone else is considered fair game. It's very sad and its where we are headed. *sigh* enough of that. :-)
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