Thursday, November 01, 2018

D. Martin Lloyd-Jones says that, "What makes this universe a cosmos, rather than a chaos, is that the Lord Jesus Christ is holding it all together."

Romans: Exposition of Chapter 10 Saving Faith

I guess I can trust Him with my little corner of the world today.

Sunday, September 23, 2018









The other day, I was talking with my friend Yogi, and she mentioned High-Five!
She had played it with her family.  That is only the second family I ever met,
besides our own, that played that game.  I don't think she has played in a long
time, and her family doesn't have the passion for it that our does...but still!
First Drew and Paula Smith, our neighbors for a while, played it, and now
Yogi knows it.

I think maybe it is just a Fernnook Game.  I mean originally.  Now it is played
from Montana to Pennsylvania, but it all started here in little ole' Fernnook.  Or
at least I like to think so.
Kid Vignettes:

The other day I cooked bacon and pancakes for breakfast for Colyn, Peeta,
and Judah.  After eating, Peeta asked if he could have another piece of bacon.
He grabbed one off the plate and held it upright in his little fist.  Judah ran to
him and swiped the bacon, breaking it off where it protruded from Peeta's fist,
and stuffed it into his own mouth before Peeta had any idea what was happening.

He stood there with the most dumbfounded look on his face.  I am not sure he
really ever knew where that bacon disappeared to.





















For as long as she has been able to talk, Elsie has wanted her ears pierced.  Finally
her daddy told her she could when she turned 6.  Well, 6 just came a week or so
ago, and as promised, the ears are pierced.  This is the picture she wanted her
cousin Kathleen to see to prove she had done it.

An interesting conversation happened recently between those two cousins as they
were jumping on the trampoline.  I was near enough to overhear it, and must say,
I went away chuckling.

(Not absolutely word for word...but close)
Kathleen:  I am going to be an eye doctor when I grow up and work in my eye
doctor's office.  Do you want to be an eye doctor when you grow up and work
with me in my office?

Elsie:  Oh, yes! (Don't think she's ever been to an eye doctor.)

Kathleen: Are you going to get married?...Because I am never going to get married.
Being married is icky.

Around that same time the girls were in the climbing tree and one of them yelled at me,
"Grandma, we decided to let the boys be in our gang.  Now it is not just us girls, the
boys can be in it too."

Now that's a much friendlier arrangement, don't you think?  It keeps Colyn, especially,
from being left out.













Bill called the other day to talk with Kent.  As they were chatting, Kent heard the phone
beep and knew someone was trying to get through.  He put Bill on hold and toggled
to the other caller.  It was Opal!  She was calling on her mom's cell while Bill was
on the landline.  Now that 'twas funny!  She wanted to talk to Grandma.  So, I
called her back after Kent and Bill finished their conversation.




















Welcome to the world, Andrew Nashon.  This little guy is 9 days old and I have
not seen him in person yet.  He was whisked up to Children's Hospital in the
Big City due to a blockage in his intestines.  The blockage was due to him
being born with Cystic Fibrosis.  I look so forward to getting him home and
to kissing those adorable cheeks.

"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."  Psalm 139:13,14

Are we all sad?  Yes, we are.  But, why should we not face with confidence the
providence that God has set before us?  Andrew's CF was no surprise to God, and
he is a precious gift to us all.

Grandma Joan and I have been tag-teaming in watching Andrew's siblings.  She
has been doing most of the watching, and Debby and I have been doing most
of the cooking.  However, when she goes to the store and I keep the kids, I say,
"Take your time!"  And she does.  Then afterward she says, "That was lovely!"




Wednesday, August 29, 2018





















We traveled with Peter and Judah to Natalie's brother's wedding last week.
We volunteered to take the boys so that Natalie could stretch her poor legs
out in the back of the van.  It was a lovely wedding, but some funny things
happened along the way.

Peter, on the drive down, kept saying, "I don't see Georgia, I just don't see
Georgia."  We kept assuring him that, indeed, we were headed to Georgia
and would be there soon.  When we finally got to the airbnb place that we
had booked, he got out of the car and said with great distress in his voice,
"This ISN'T Georgia!"

That was when we realized that Grandma Joan and Grandpa Peter's house is
Georgia in that boy's mind.  Of course it is.  Every time they get in the van
and head to Georgia they go straight to the Gagliardi's house.

Peter also told me several times while they were with us that, "I do not like
pertatoes Grandma."





















Judah just said over and over, "Go, go, go, go, et's go!"

But, I have to tell a funny on myself also.  When we sat down at the reception, we
were across from Natalie's uncle and his girlfriend, whom we had never met.  They
were lovely people.  We were just getting acquainted when I reached for my cup of
water and took a large swig of Italian dressing instead.  The dressing was in the same
type of cup as the drinks.  My eyes popped wide open, and I quickly set down the
cup of dressing.  Mike (the uncle) out of embarrassment for me picked it up and placed
it in front of his girlfriend, Jennifer.  She obviously didn't want anything to do with it,
after I had taken a swig from it, so she just shoved it aside.  Then we all chuckled and
settled down to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Sunday, August 05, 2018

Apparently Papa taught my brother a secret language that he failed to
teach me.  Maybe Becky remembers it...but I sure don't.  Chinese pig-latin
I know, but not this one.  I am not sure what he called it, but I will call it
One-Up.

The premise is that you take any homonym of a number (when it is used
naturally in a sentence) and you one-up it.

Example:  I went three the store five apples and milk.
So..."three" replaces the word "to" and "five" replaces "for".

Jennifer caught on quite quickly and said, "I've got it...we put eleven on the
roof."  To which Mike replied, "I did three."

No wonder others think us a tad bit odd.




















This past week we had 16 of Papa's 19 great-grandies together in Fernnook.
It was wild, loud, and lots of fun.  Coach, the oldest, is 7, and the rest range
down from that to the 4 newest additions, all of which were added since April.





















We birthday partied (Papa and Becky) and creeked.  We cooked and ate loads
of food (Stacey's Mexican Caviar was such a hit that it was called back for
an encore).  And we just hung out...and that was probably the best of all.













Above are some of the kids hanging out in the toy room.  Gracie and Opal
were also in the room, but were out of camera range.  These 8 oldest played
for a long time with legos and blocks.

We also all learned a new game that Coach taught us.  It is called Animal Tag,
and I am not sure anyone really understands it, not even Coach.  But it made
for a lot of running around and strange animal-like behavior on the part of
the kids (and adults).  One of my special skills was "camouflage".  It was pretty
cool, because whenever I got tired of running, I just threw out my arms and said,
"camouflage", and the person chasing me would turn and run the other way.
Pretty good defense for an old lady who isn't used to running.

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

It was 7 am this morning, I was still in my jammies and the phone rang. 

Laurie, "Hello, neighbor, how are you?"

Neighbor, "Well, I am doing better than you are this morning, because I have
cows today and you don't."

I was a wee bit slow, but then, bingo I got it.  Our cows were at their house.

Kent took off at a quick walk.  I, meanwhile, had to dress first.  One may
chase cows in their jammies in the privacy of their backyard, but not in the
public arena of their neighbor's backyard.

By the time I was dressed and had fast-walked down the road and down the lane,
both Kent and the cows were gone.  In my defense, I have very short legs.  I have
to...they match my short body.

So, I turned around and fast-walked back to the house.  Kent and the cows were
already there, having taken a path through the neighbor's property to the gravel.

It really went fairly smoothly.  The little calf that we were afraid was still missing
was still in her original field.  So we soon had everyone lined up and back in place.

The problem is that it is so dry, there is no grass left for the cows to eat in the fields.

They were just trying to see if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.

Can you  blame them?
Funny how people remember the same thing completely differently.

Mike:  I like my okra the way G'ma Opal used to make it.  Battered and deepfried.




















Uncle Jim:  I like my okra the way Mom used to make it.  Stewed with
tomatoes, and with a little hot pepper added.  Yum!
















Laurie:  I like my okra the way G'ma Opal used to make it.  Pan fried with
cornmeal, flour, salt, and pepper.  (Though I don't turn up my nose at okra
any old way it's cooked.)

Monday, July 23, 2018















From Uncle Jimmy:
FERNNOOK NEWS July 23, 2018
Volume 1, Issue 1
News not found elsewhere
This was told to me by my mother and is her best recollection of the events of July 22nd and 23rd of 1930.
Following is some information that helps put into perspective the situation at that time.
Art and Iva Crow were neighbors who lived about a mile from the old Simon home place.
Art was 37 and Iva was 21 that year. Iva had her own baby Mildred who was less than three years old.
John and Hattie Simon had been married 48 years and were 76 and 56 years old respectively.
Opal’s brother Paul was 27 and John was 21 and Opal's sister
Hazel children were living with John and Hattie. Gilbert was 6 and Helen was 4
John J. Simon would have less than two years left to live in July 1930 and Hattie would live for 18 and 1/2 more years.
A story as told to Jimmy L. Fleetwood by Opal Fleetwood in 2002
How Bob lost his Petey but found a name.
It was a very hot and dry summer that year, the corn had twisted and withered in the field.
Art Crow, a neighbor, had been sent for to help cut and shock the corn so there would be some fodder for the animals. The day before, July 22nd had been a hot and hazy day. Paul and John Simon had been in the hay fields along with Marion Fleetwood their brother-in-law. They were preparing to put hay into the barn.
Inside the house, Opal was getting ready to give birth to her first child. Opal’s Mother, Hattie was there to comfort her daughter as she experienced the pangs of childbirth. As the day wore on and evening came, Opal’s brother Paul was sent to Doniphan to fetch Dr. Carter Proctor. Paul and the doctor got back just as it was getting dark. The old Model T truck rattled and sputtered its way down the dirt road that stopped in front of the house. The doctor went into the bedroom where Opal was waiting. He examined her quickly and then gave her two capsules from his bag.
He then made his way out onto the porch where a bed had been prepared for him and tried to get some rest. The drugs soon took effect on Opal and she went to sleep. As the night wore on, the doctor sleeping on the porch and Opal dozing fitfully in her bed, the time was quickly approaching for the baby to come. Opal awakened with a start at 2 A.M. She knew the time was close. The pain was intense, sweeping in waves over her body. Hattie roused the doctor from his sleep. Opal fought with the doctor as he applied chloroform. She fought to stay awake. She hated the smell and the way it made her feel but the drug won the battle and when she awakened there was a new baby boy in the world. He was born about 8 A.M. that 23rd day of July 1930. He had big blue eyes and lots of dark brown hair. When Opal awoke her new son’s hair had already been combed maybe by Iva Crow or his Grandma Hattie.
He was a healthy baby boy about 8 lbs 4 ounces and 19 inches long. Paul Marion Fleetwood that’s what he was named. He was named for his Uncle Paul Simon and for his father Marion. It was his Aunt Jewel who gave him the name that we know him by today. She called him “Petey Bob”. Somewhere along the way, the “Petey” was dropped and he became known simply as Bob. His father Marion once explained to a merchant in Naylor when she inquired about his name, “We just cut off the Petey and called him Bob”. As he grew older and someone would call him Paul, he would say “No! Bobby!!
Grandma Hattie went into the garden and gathered vegetables to make a pot of homemade soup to help Opal feel better. The aroma of the soup simmering on the wood stove was soothing to everyone. Opal ate the soup with great satisfaction. In fact, vegetable soup had never tasted so good. The new mother and baby rested from the ordeal of birth.
It was Wednesday, July 23rd, 1930. There was a new life in Jordan Township, Ripley County Missouri.
I want to wish that baby a Very Happy 88th Birthday.
Happy Birthday, Bobby!!!

Sunday, July 01, 2018

Some strange happenings have been going on up and down the gravel,
or at least they have on our little plot of the gravel.

Several months ago, maybe around the time Chappell was born, Kent
and I returned from a trip (probably to help with the grandies in St. Charles.
When Kent went to check on the cows, he stepped out on the porch to put
on his boots...but there were no boots there.  We looked in the house, in
Hattie's room, in the shed, on the carport, but they just weren't anywhere.

We asked the boys (Joel and Tyler) and Hattie, but no, they hadn't used them.

They just walked away, seemingly, into never-never land.

Then we left town again.  I think it was to Arkansas to spend a few days
with Oma and Opa at Horseshoe Bend.  We stopped on the way home, by
the mailbox to check for mail before we turned into the driveway and it
(the mailbox) was all wonky.  It was wobbly and wouldn't close right.

I just put it down to being 25 or so years old and figured it was time to buy
a new one.

Then a few days later in church Debby made a true confession.  She said that
Mike had a long something or other in the back of the truck and he hit our
mailbox with it while driving down the gravel.  Well, now that explained a
lot!  No wonder our box was wobbly and wonky.  Anyway it was old, I figured
it was time to buy a new one.  But, a few days later, Mike worked on the old
box and now it is unwobbly and unwonky.

A week or two later, Mike mentioned to Kent, during one of our gravel-road
dinners, that he had borrowed Kent's boots at some time or another and still
had them.

AHA!  Another true confession.  And with that, the mystery of the missing
boots was cleared up.  However, cleared up or no, they still haven't showed up.

Today, during Fellowship Dinner at church, 6 year old Paxton, who was sitting
across from me, said, "There's a spider on you."

And, boy howdy, there was one.  It was big and brown with a huge creamy
abdomen.  I am not afraid of spiders, but he (or she) was really quite large.
So, I stood up and shook my top and it fell, but they I couldn't see it.  I
am not afraid of spiders, but I didn't want it crawling around on me unchecked.
So I shook my skirts and got down on the floor and finally found it.  Really,
I am not afraid of spiders, but I did send it to a squishy death.