Friday, May 16, 2014

Olio

I've never seen or heard the word "olio" used in any context other than a crossword puzzle. Because it's a short word that's rich in vowels, puzzle writers tend to overuse it in the same way they do a few other words having those same characteristics: aloe, alee, alias, etui and that well-known cookie, Oreo. Anyway, I'm glad that crossword clues have taught me that "olio" is a synonym for "mixture" or "jumble" or "hodgepodge," because that's what today's post is.

*****

I never announce that I'm going to take a brief blogging hiatus because I never intend to do so. It would be more accurate to say I just fizzle out now and then and, in that vulnerable state, allow a brief blogging hiatus to overtake me. One day piles on top of another until I know it's been too long since I last posted, but by then I can't think of a single thing to write about. (The strict grammarian in my head keeps nudging me to change the last sentence to read "...a single thing about which to write." Sometimes I hate that prissy old biddy.)

Anyway, I'm back. I think.

*****


Mother's Day was wonderful. We had our traditional celebration with a crawfish boil at my daughter Kelli's house, but with one major difference from past years: a raging thunderstorm that kept everybody under the carport instead of scattered around the swimming pool. We had to speak loudly to hear one another over the rain on the tin roof, but we had some of the best group conversations we've had in a long time, and I loved every minute of it.

*****

On Kelli's refrigerator, held by a magnet, was a letter-sized sheet of white paper on which four-year-old Owen, my great-grandson, had used a blue marker to draw a line that looped and swirled all around the edges and connected to itself in one corner. It was, he had told her, a map of the world.

I was standing near that refrigerator when I spotted an opportunity to compliment Owen on the drawing. "I like your map of the world," I said. Indicating a spot on the paper, I asked, "Where's Louisiana? Here?"

Owen raised his eyes from the hot dog on his plate to glance at me for about two seconds. His mouth said, "It's not a real map." His face said, quite clearly, "How stupid are you?"

*****

There are two dog beds in my bedroom: Levi's on the right side of my bed, Gimpy's on the left side. The dog beds are identical except that Levi's blanket is brown and Gimpy's is tan. This sleeping arrangement seemed to be fine with everybody for months and months until Gimpy decided a few weeks ago that he prefers Levi's bed to his own. He's slept there ever since. So has Levi, who must not have wanted to swap.

I sleep on the right side of the bed, too. This new arrangement makes navigation a little bit tricky when I need to get up in the middle of the night.

Spooners: Gimpy on Levi's bed and Levi with his head under my bed.

*****

Speaking of sleep, the upper respiratory virus I had for so long (still coughing) seems to have put me in the habit of taking a long nap every day--a bad habit I'm only now beginning to break. I love the fact that retirement gives me the freedom to take a 20-minute, pick-me-up nap when I need one, but a long nap in the daytime makes me groggy and keeps me from sleeping well at night. It also eats a big hole in my (semi) productive daytime hours, leaving me depressed about the lack of accomplishment. 

So. Today I've written a blog post. Now I think I'll go unclutter some surfaces. That'll be two accomplishments. That isn't many, I know, but it's an improvement.

Tuesday, May 06, 2014

What's Not to "Like"?

Some days my Facebook news feed is made up almost entirely of photographs and status posts of people I don't know. Granted, some of them are lovely photos, but because I don't know those folks, I could live quite happily without seeing them. Imagine if you were in an office, working at your desk, and all through the day your coworkers approached and interrupted you, one after another, each wanting to show you a picture of his or her friends. Now, truthfully, wouldn't that annoy the heck out of you?

The reason I'm seeing each of these photos is that one or another of my Facebook friends (who actually knows the people in the photo) clicked the "like" button on it, and Facebook, in its infinite quest to link us all together, has decided that each of us needs to know what our friends "like." Against my will--and probably yours--if you're my Facebook friend, my nose is all up in your business.

I'm not talking about status posts that friends wrote or photos they posted. I want to see those. Those are the reason I signed up for Facebook in the first place. Nor am I speaking of things friends decided to "share." If it meant enough to them that they wanted to call attention to it, then, by golly, I'll give it a look. I just don't want to have to search through a page full of random posts my friends have "liked" in order to find the things they intended for me to see.

Facebook shows those "liked" posts anyway. There is currently no way to opt out of seeing all the "likes" while leaving the status posts and "shares" intact.

Why is this a problem? Well, for example, one friend really likes cat pictures. I don't mind one or two cat pictures, but a news feed full of them is way too many. A male friend "likes" photos of swimsuit models, so those show up in my news feed, too, even though swimsuit models are definitely not my thing. Some of my friends are talented artists and craftspeople, and I enjoy seeing photos of their work. Those friends, of course, "like" the images that their friends who share the same interests post of their own work, so I see those photos, too. Another friend (bless her heart) recently experienced a betrayal. When she sees a pre-made graphic or slogan related in any way to broken trust, it resonates with her, she clicks the "like" button, and voila! There it is on my news feed. Sometimes there's a long string of slogans and images on that topic, and, frankly, that's kind of a bummer. All those "liked" posts add up, and it takes a lot of time to filter through them. But wasted time isn't the biggest problem. It's the photos of "friends of friends" that bother me most. I feel as if I'm invading people's privacy when I see those pictures, yet there isn't a doggone thing I can do about it.

The flip side of this hasn't escaped me: I realize that posts I've "liked" (mostly because I really did like them but occasionally just to be polite) must have contributed to the clutter on my friends' news feeds, too. I sincerely apologize for that, but this time the buck stops with Facebook.

Saturday, May 03, 2014

Love in the Air

On this most gorgeous Saturday in recent history, when spring is in the air and so are the lovebugs, making their first appearance of the year here in Southeast Louisiana, it seems only fitting to make today's Saturday Song Selection a love song. And so it is. If you're not feeling the romance after listening to these lyrics, go take your temperature. Something might be wrong with you.


The song is "A Night in Summer Long Ago" by Mark Knopfler.
Thanks to amindenandel for posting the video and lyrics on YouTube.

Friday, May 02, 2014

What i've Been Reading

Looking over the covers of the most recent books I've read, I realize they look like I might have ordered them at a donut shop:  "A dozen assorted, please." That analogy continues to the contents: some are filled with flavor and richness and some are just sweet, light and fluffy, but there isn't one among them that I wish I'd left in the box.

Second Hand Heart
by Catherine Ryan Hyde

http://www.amazon.com/Second-Hand-Heart-Catherine-Ryan-ebook/dp/B0055WY7O8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1399039652&sr=1-1&keywords=second+hand+heart+by+catherine+ryan+hyde


The Midwife of Hope River
by Patricia Harman

http://www.amazon.com/Midwife-Hope-River-Novel-American-ebook/dp/B007HC3TT8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1399040650&sr=1-1&keywords=the+midwife+of+hope+river+by+patricia+harman


The Cutting Season
by Attica Locke



The Rosie Project
by Graeme Simsion



Honey on Your Mind
by Maria Murnane

http://www.amazon.com/Honey-Your-Mind-Maria-Murnane-ebook/dp/B007FGO7NS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1399040833&sr=1-1&keywords=honey+on+your+mind+by+maria+murnane


The Baker's Daughter
by Sarah McCoy

http://www.amazon.com/Bakers-Daughter-Novel-Sarah-Mccoy-ebook/dp/B004W3IEI6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1399040908&sr=1-1&keywords=the+baker%27s+daughter+by+sarah+mccoy


The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man
by James Weldon Johnson

http://www.amazon.com/Autobiography-Ex-Colored-James-Weldon-Johnson-ebook/dp/B0082UYCHM/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1399041047&sr=1-2&keywords=the+autobiography+of+an+ex-colored+man


Opal Fire
by Barbra Annino

http://www.amazon.com/Opal-Fire-Stacy-Justice-Mystery-ebook/dp/B008BU6YBK/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1399041122&sr=1-1&keywords=opal+fire+by+barbra+annino


Bloodstone
by Barbra Annino

http://www.amazon.com/Bloodstone-Stacy-Justice-Mystery-Book-ebook/dp/B008BU76PS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1399041180&sr=1-1&keywords=bloodstone


Tiger's Eye
by Barbra Annino



Emerald Isle
by Barbra Annino

http://www.amazon.com/Emerald-Isle-Stacy-Justice-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00B1SZ7YY/ref=pd_sim_kstore_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=0GP1HNYFTJ934R5MB1ZS


The Bloodletter's Daughter
by Linda Lafferty

http://www.amazon.com/Bloodletters-Daughter-Novel-Old-Bohemia-ebook/dp/B007R6WCJC/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1399041313&sr=1-1&keywords=the+bloodletter%27s+daughter+a+novel+of+old+bohemia+kindle+edition


To read a description and reviews of any of these books,
click on its image above.

*****


Normally I leave the reviewing to others and ease my conscience about that sort of laziness by turning each book cover pictured into a link to other people's reviews. That's pretty much what I've done this time, too, except that I feel compelled to call your attention to three books that are so good I need to make sure you don't overlook them. In order of their appearance on the list above, they are:
  1. The Midwife of Hope River by Patricia Harman. Excellent writing, a moving story set in Appalachia in the 1930s, and a main character you'll wish you had as a friend.
  2. The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion. This book surprised me by being sheer delight from beginning to end. Set in modern times, it's a love story--sort of--with quirky characters you won't soon forget. It's already been sold to the movies, and I can't wait to see who gets cast to play the parts of Don and Rosie.
  3. The Bloodletter's Daughter by Linda Lafferty. If you like the details found in good historical fiction (facts you can check on the Internet), and if you were one of those kids whose imagination was captured completely by the grimness of a Grimm's fairy tale, then you will love this book. It has it all. I woke up feeling a little sad this morning because I finished the book last night, and I wasn't nearly ready for it to end. 

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

La Cucaracha

Lucy is a small dog, low to the ground, longer than she is tall. The length of her shiny, black coat obscures the upper portion of her legs so that she appears to be moving about on short stubs.

Lucy (at right) with Gimpy

In a house full of soft-cushioned places to nap, Lucy can most often be found in the bathroom, curled up on the cold, hard floor in the narrow space behind the toilet. Back there, in the deep shadow of the porcelain throne, she's barely noticeable unless one is looking specifically for her. She isn't visible at all from the doorway.

I forget that Lucy likes to sleep there--and that she is a sound sleeper. I go in there with one thought in mind, close the door behind me, take three steps, turn around and take a seat. Just as I get down to business, Lucy, suddenly awakened, darts out of her lair, skirts my feet and scurries across the floor like the Godzilla of all cockroaches, her tail waving like an antenna except that it's on the wrong end of her forward motion. She doesn't stop until she reaches the door, where she turns around and looks at me for the first time. Only then does my heart rate begin a slow descent back to normal. I imagine that's when Lucy's does, too.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Stretched Out on a Cold, White, um, Queen-Sized Bed

That upper respiratory thing I mentioned in my last post is tenacious. This is my eighth day with it, and both my daughters still have it, too. According to Mr. Google, a cold "normally lasts from 3 to 7 days," but "many people continue to have symptoms for up to two weeks." 

I don't feel much like doing any of the pastimes I normally enjoy--reading, writing, genealogy, puzzles--and I certainly don't feel like taking care of the household chores those enjoyable pastimes are meant to protect me from. I don't feel like eating, either, although Kim brought in a cake and I'm managing to get down my share of that whether I want it or not. Mostly, between bouts of coughing, I just want to sleep.

"It's just a cold," you say. I know that. I know it isn't serious and it will pass. "Don't be such a ninny," you advise, rolling your eyes. Yeah, right. But I'm old and not as tough as I used to be. Just wait until you've had a week with a theme song like this:


The song is a long-time favorite, "St. James Infirmary," performed by Joe Cocker.
Thanks to Paul GomezPhD for posting the video on YouTube.




Thursday, April 24, 2014

Easter was blissful, but then...

The gifts from Ye Olde Easter Bunny
Were gag gifts, though not at all funny:
A deep cough that's lasted
Five days (furry bastid!)
And a nose that is constantly runny.

Easter itself was a lovely day. Though I didn't feel quite up to par, I took myself, my made-from-scratch cupcakes, my camera, and what I thought were simply allergy symptoms to my younger daughter's house, where I hugged and kissed everybody like Typhoid Mary on a mission of doom. So far since then, this "upper respiratory infection--viral, like a cold" has spread to both my daughters. I don't know whether others in the family have it. If so, I hope they'll forgive me. Or maybe, as I do, they'll assume it's "some bug" they picked up at Walmart.

Back to Easter itself, the family gathered at three in the afternoon, when the day was at its warmest. My daughter and son-in-law had planned a repeat of last year's egg hunt for the young adults in the family, albeit with a change or two. Last year's plastic eggs had cash in them. When some of those eggs went missing for several weeks, it was decided that this year's eggs would contain only slips of paper with dollar amounts written on them. The second change--because the young men were ridiculously aggressive egg-hunters last year--was to make them search in pairs of spouses and/or significant others, relay-race style.

And they're off...

After the eggs were counted and the money divvied up, there was another egg hunt for the two little kids. Their eggs contained tiny toys and small candies, and they knew ahead of time which colored eggs were theirs. Let's just say their egg hunt was a kindler, gentler event.

The young ones had plenty of helpers.

The swing in the photo above was a special Easter surprise for the little ones, built by their grandfather (my son-in-law), who was more than willing to push them. They loved it.

Popee and Olivia


Owen: "I can do it by myself and go high, high, high!"

By late afternoon the very shallow water near the steps of the pool was warm enough for the little ones to take a dip. They didn't need much encouragement. First came the floaties:

Olivia's lips were blue from a lollipop,
not from the water temperature.

Then came the fun:

Cute cousins.

While the kids played in the water, the men fried fish, french fries and hush puppies. I ate too much of all of it. If I'd known then that I was going to need to keep my strength up this week, I'd have eaten even more. As it was, I stopped eating and sat back to ponder the serenity of the outdoor oasis my son-in-law and daughter have created for themselves, their family and friends...



...the glory of the nature that surrounded us...



...and the beautiful faces of the people I love most:



Those loving thoughts would have sustained me all week long had it not been for this blasted cough. 

Saturday, April 19, 2014

"How Sweet the Sound"

I love the song "Amazing Grace" so much that there are four different versions of it on my iTunes list. My favorite of all of them is today's Saturday Song Selection.

Scenes of Appalachia play in my head when I listen to this one: blue-green mountains layered against the distant horizon, small villages clustered in deep valleys, tall timbers shading creeks where water rushes to tumble over rocks strewn carelessly by the hand of Mother Nature. There's a sense of timelessness in Appalachia, much as there is in this 235-year-old song.


The song is "Amazing Grace," performed beautifully by Mark O'Connor.
Thanks to Mark O'Connor for posting this video on YouTube.


Friday, April 18, 2014

Good Friday, Indeed!

I'm not speaking of the religious holiday that falls today, although I know that this day is particularly special for devout Christians and for many not-so-reverent folks who will praise Jesus if only for a day off from work or school. No, I'm just talking about the essential goodness of an ordinary day like today, which happens to be a Friday.

It's warm today, with a gentle breeze, bright blue skies, and puffy white clouds that show no hint of last night's rolling thunder. It's a fine day--a fine spring day--and the weatherman says it'll stay like this through Easter Sunday. It's the kind of day that makes me feel more spiritual than church ever did.

All four dogs are sleeping as I write this, Levi and Gimpy sacked out tail to tail on the futon here in the den, Ollie on the sofa in the living room, and Lucy on the floor about three feet away from me, tucked into a narrow space between a wooden file cabinet and a stack of two plastic storage boxes. The house is quiet except for Lucy's rhythmic snores; even those I find peaceful.

I'm in the middle of a good book, and I did the grocery shopping yesterday, so there's plenty of food in the house (including a Cadbury chocolate egg that keeps whispering my name).

On a scale of 1-10, my sense of well-being is pushing toward 11. I hope your Friday is just as good.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

A Little Bit About Not Very Much

For the past week I've been buried up to my eyeballs in genealogy, digging into step-families and in-laws so that even our youngest family members will have histories that go back five generations or more. Only two still have a lot of blanks: a small brother and sister whose paternal grandparents seem to have arrived on this earth fully grown and untraceable. Maybe they were in the witness protection program; I don't know. I like playing detective, putting the clues together to find the information on my own. To have to go to the horse's mouth and ask directly for names, dates and places takes all the fun out of the research, but that'll have to be my next step.

Genealogy is a great way to spend a cold rainy day like the one we had yesterday. While I was searching, finding, cutting, pasting, entering data and labeling files and photos indoors, it was thundering and raining enough outside--so much rain that only a very small patch of the covered garden-shed porch stayed dry:


It was cold, too, down in the mid-thirties this morning. I can't believe I'm still using the electric blanket in the middle of April.

The oak trees are in full flower, although I think it's a big stretch to use the word "flower" to describe those yellow-brown stringy things that first cling to the leaves and the Spanish moss, then drop to cover the driveways. And when hard rains such as yesterday's wash the pollen down into the grass and water standing on the lawn, some of that pollen sticks to the legs of the dogs, who track it into the house. That would explain my itchy eyes, stuffy nose and sinus headache.


The sun came out late this morning, though, so I tore myself away from the computer long enough this afternoon to go get a haircut, play with my grandson's new puppy, and pick up Chinese food for supper. Now I'm stuffed and sleepy, but I'll try to stay awake to watch "Survivor," "American Idol," and "Nashville." Maybe I'd better DVR them all in case my eyes have other ideas.

Tuesday, April 08, 2014

I Need a New Doctor, Stat!

My primary care physician (who happens to bear a remarkable resemblance to the Bitstrip avatar at right) has had my trust for twelve or thirteen years, ever since my first visit to her. In addition to being a highly competent professional, she's a warm, likable human being. I'm about to lose her.

In a recent letter she advised that she'll soon change to a concierge-type practice, primarily to reduce the size of her current practice and increase her availability to the patients who stay with her. The letter went on to outline her reasons for making the change, and I understand all of them. I don't blame her a bit.

I'd love to continue being her patient, but the changes she's making will come at a cost, and I can't afford it. There'll be an upfront fee of $1,650 per person per year. I'm guessing that only two groups of people will be willing to pay a fee like that: 1) people who have plenty of disposable income and don't mind absorbing the cost in exchange for greater access to a physician, and 2) folks whose current health issues cause them to spend a lot of time in the doctor's office and who, as a result, are desperate to maintain that important doctor-patient relationship regardless of personal sacrifice. I don't fall into either category.

Normally, I see this doctor twice a year for routine blood work and prescription renewals. At that rate the new fee would amount to $825 a visit, not including actual per-visit charges for office visits, x-rays, lab work, etc., that will still be billed to insurance carriers under the new plan. To fit the annual fee into my budget I'd need to cancel my cable TV and my Internet service, neither of which is crucial to my existence, I realize, but both of which contribute more to the quality of my life than longer doctor's visits would. (I'm knocking on wood now to cancel out any jinxes created by that last sentence.)

So. I wish her well. I really do. If this will make her workday more pleasant, the work itself more rewarding, she'd be silly not to go for it. But I, for one, will miss her.

In the meantime, it's sinking in that I've been plunged unexpectedly into a doctor-shopping race with other soon-to-be-former patients. Wish me luck.

Saturday, April 05, 2014

Moving Beyond Lukewarm

Morning is not my best time of the day. I enjoy a good night's sleep so much that I'm reluctant to wake up and leave that dream space; thus I'm a bit zombie-like in the early morning hours. On days like today, when I have things to do and places to go and need to ease gently but quickly into a state of higher energy--and be happy about it--this song always does the trick:


The song is "Man on Fire" by Edwin Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.
Thanks to the Magnetic Zeros for posting this video on YouTube. 
Click here to read the lyrics.

Friday, April 04, 2014

Wishful Photography

You wouldn't know it by this particular day--it's gray and raining again--but we've had a brief patch of really nice weather lately: warm, sunny days when I could wear shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt and eat lunch outdoors on the patio. On one such day I took my camera when I drove into town to run errands.

I like to hold the camera up to the windshield and let it watch the scenery while I watch the road, snapping photos at random as I go along, wondering what kind of surprises will be in store when I upload the images. When I do that, almost all the images turn out looking like some version of this:


Sometimes, in between the deep-blue tint at the top of the windshield, the vent reflections on the bottom of it, and the smeary part at the side where the wipers don't reach, there's something that's lovely. It's up to me to find it, straighten it up, crop it out, and adjust the lighting and color to make up for what the thick glass has washed out. In the photo above, for example, I found this:


If you click on the images to enlarge and compare them, you'll notice that I digitally erased a telephone pole and the wires attached to it. When I take a ride on a pretty day, it's the beautiful things that catch my attention; my brain barely registers the ugly, manmade blemishes on Mother Nature's work until they show up in a photo and spoil the scene that was in my mind's eye. So I erase a telephone pole here, a road sign there, occasionally even a car if I can, and show you what I thought I saw.

Here are a few more images from my drive along New River Canal the other day. Aren't the wildflowers beautiful? And the clouds? And the live oak trees?










I greatly appreciate technology except when it's strung all across the sky.

Tuesday, April 01, 2014

Lola's Journey

Yesterday was the final session in my third course of Life Writing classes. We'd been assigned to select an ancestor who had influenced us or in some other way (by immigrating to America, for example) changed the direction of our lives, then research that person and write about him or her. We were also supposed to include in the report some facts about what was going on in the world during that person's lifetime, but I forgot that part. (We all forgot that part.)

There are many people in my family history who were the first of their line to come to America. When I couldn't decide between them, I switched to focus on who had influenced me most. It didn't take long to narrow it down to three ancestors who had most affected how I turned out: my mother, her mother and my father (by virtue of his absence). Wanting to write a positive piece, I chose Mammaw, my maternal grandmother; any shred of positivity in my genetic or environmental makeup came directly from her.

It would be easier--and a much better story--to copy and paste here what I read aloud in yesterday's class, but privacy concerns tell me that's not a good idea. What I think I'll do instead is omit the warm and fuzzy story part of the homework piece and concentrate on the research part, information gleaned from family documents, genealogy websites and Internet maps, and tell how Mammaw got from where she was born to where she died. That means there will be approximately, oh, one person, my sister Judy, who will be interested. Maybe not even Judy. The rest of you have probably read as far as you'll want to, although you might enjoy the cool pictures, and you might learn something about the process of genealogical research.

*****

First of all, here's a little map I've put together of where Mammaw lived over the course of her life. She started in Southeast Kansas and ended up in Southeast Texas:


Mammaw was born Lola Fern Elliott on July 8, 1896 in Scammon, Cherokee County, Kansas (the uppermost red star on the map above). She was the first child of the marriage between William Joseph Elliott and Dora Belle Hetherington.


William Joseph "Joe" Elliott and Dora Belle Hetherington Elliott
Wedding Day - July 18, 1895


Lola Fern Elliott - Age 2

By the time of the 1900 United States Census the small family had moved about 35 miles away to Shoal Creek Township in Newton County, Missouri, where they lived in a house next to Dora's parents, Anna and Alvin Hetherington. Joe Elliott was farming, probably on Hetherington land. This is where they lived when Lola's baby sister, Cleda Opal, was born in October of that year.

Mammaw spoke several times about her experiences while traveling with her family in a covered wagon when she was five. That would have been in the latter part of 1901 or the early part of 1902, when the family moved from Shoal Creek to Maryville, Nodaway County, Missouri. She told us her parents owned a store in Maryville. Two more children were born to Joe and Dora while they lived there:  a girl, Ruth Irene, in April of 1903 and a boy, Loren Lester, in December of 1905.

Dora Elliott with Cleda and Ruth at their home in Maryville, MO - May 1905.
(If you click to enlarge the photo, you can see that Dora was pregnant with Loren.)


Sometime between the end of 1905 and 1910 the family made another long distance move. The 1910 U.S. Census shows them living in Cullen Township on the edge of Waynesville in Pulaski County, Missouri. I don't know the means or logistics of that move, but I'm sure Mammaw would have mentioned it if there'd been a second covered-wagon trip.

Ruth and Loren Elliott - circa 1910

Mammaw completed two years of high school (according to the 1940 census) and reached maturity in Pulaski County. We know from a notation on the back of the next photo that she worked as a telephone operator in Waynesville in 1917:


Lola Elliott - Waynesville, MO - 1917

Two years later Lola was in Springfield, Greene County, Missouri, attending business college. She wrote about that in a letter to my daughter Kim in 1984, adding, "...a girlfriend ask[ed] me to doubledate with a boy just home from the army (WWI) and we went to a show, that was on the 10th of July and the 1st of Oct. we were married... ." That "boy" was my grandfather, Lewis Ames Saunders. They married in Ozark, Christian County, Missouri, on October 1, 1919, when he was weeks short of being 31 years old and Lola was 23. Lewis's sister Evelyn and her husband, John Barkman, were their witnesses.

Photo of Lewis and Lola's original marriage certificate,
which I'm fortunate enough to have in my possession.

Lewis and Lola Saunders - circa 1920

The 1920 U.S. Census shows Lola and Lewis living on Mt. Vernon Street in Springfield and lists Lewis's occupation as stock clerk in the retail furniture industry. Lola was not working outside the home. In November of that year she gave birth to their first child, a son they named Neale. Their second child, Wanda, my mother, was born in Springfield in August of 1923.

Neale and Wanda Saunders - about 1927

By 1930 the Saunders family had moved to a rented house on West Madison Street in Springfield and Lewis was a shipping clerk, still in the furniture business. According to census data collected that year, the family did not yet own a radio set.

A 1932 Springfield, Missouri City Directory shows the family living at 427 Ildereen Drive and Lewis working as a warehouseman at Turner Department Store. (Judy, remember? Ildereen is the street Mother asked us to look for when we visited Springfield in 1996.) Neale was 15 and Wanda was 12 when Lola learned she was pregnant again. The new baby boy, named Joe (after Lola's father) was born in January of 1936. Judging by the house number in the photo below, the family still lived on Ildereen as late as 1937 or '38.


Joe, Wanda and Neale - abt. 1937

By the time of the 1940 U.S. Census they had moved about 15 miles to the small community of Center, Missouri, still in Greene County, where they lived in a rented house and Lewis worked as a sharecropper on a nearby farm. (The community identified as Center in census records seems to have disappeared--or at least to have been renamed. There's another town in Missouri named Center now, but it's nowhere near Springfield.) Those were lean years. The family took in a lodger, a female abstractor named Ruby Reed, to help make ends meet. This is where the family lived when Wanda graduated from nearby Bois D'Arc High School on May 15, 1941.

Wanda's graduation announcement.

The facts get a little fuzzy now because the online city directories for Springfield are missing for the early 1940s. It's possible they didn't even print them during WWII. Anyway, I don't know for sure when the family moved back to Springfield. I do know that Neale enlisted in the Army in November of 1941, and Wanda married my father, Paul, in January of 1942. Paul lived in Springfield, but they eloped and married in Marshfield, about 30 miles away in Webster County. I was born in November of 1942, and Paul shipped out with the army three months later. Sometime in the early 1940s Lewis and Lola bought a two-story, five-bedroom house on East Madison Street in Springfield. That's the house I still think of when I hear the word "home."



City directories were back by 1947, and the one for that year shows that Lewis was working as a warehouseman for Martin Bros. Piano Co. My sister was born in January of 1947 and our parents divorced in July of that year. We moved in with Lewis and Lola, as did Lola's mother, Dora Elliott, who'd been widowed since her husband Joe died in 1933. Young Joe Saunders was still at home, of course. That left one upstairs bedroom available to rent to students attending nearby Southwest Missouri State Teachers College.

When 1957 rolled around, Lewis, Lola, Wanda, Judy and I still lived in that house. Dora had passed away in 1953, and Joe had left home around 1955 or '56 to join the Army. Lewis was retired by then. In the summer of 1957, Mother remarried and moved us to Texas.

I have a copy of a real estate listing showing that Lewis and Lola listed the house on East Madison Street for sale in March of 1960. They sold it about one month later and moved to Texas themselves, where they bought a small, single-story house a few blocks away from us in Orange.

Lewis and Lola Saunders in front of their Orange, Texas home - abt. 1960

Lewis, always known as Packy to us, died in April of 1964 following a series of strokes, but Lola lived in that house for 28 years, longer than anyplace she'd ever lived in her life. In May of 1988 my daughter, granddaughter, and I drove from Louisiana and visited Mammaw in her home. She was as mentally sharp as ever but mentioned that she was losing weight and had begun experiencing some pain in her side. Here's Lola on that visit with my granddaughter, her great-great granddaughter:



Later in 1988, some time after Mammaw had been diagnosed with advanced-stage cancer, she was given hallucination-inducing pain medication, required around-the-clock care that exceeded Mother's capabilities, and eventually entered a nursing facility. She died at the age of 92 on December 4, 1988. She was buried in Orange County--the lowest red star on the map at the beginning of this post. 

*****

I've changed my mind and will add just a couple of paragraphs of personal remembrances from yesterday's Life Writing assignment:

"Lola and Lewis, by then known to me as Mammaw and Packy, made their home ours. I grew up knowing that Packy was considered the head of the household, but it was clear from early on that Mammaw was the one who kept everything going. She was the one who cooked three meals a day, cleaned that five-bedroom house, did the washing on Mondays, the ironing on Tuesdays, shopped for groceries, saw that the bills were paid, tended her flower garden and potted plants, canned home-grown vegetables, made jellies and jams, crocheted and tatted doilies to protect the highly polished surfaces of her furniture, and hummed pleasantly to herself while she did all of it. She went to Sunday school and church every Sunday and took us with her. During the Christmas holiday season, she worked part-time at the Busy Bee Bargain Store to earn extra money.


Lola Saunders, 5th from left


"If she ever met anyone she didn’t like, she certainly didn’t say so. She was friends with all the neighbors and belonged to what she called a club, a group of ladies who took turns hosting lunch once a month in their homes. She was the kindest person I’ve ever known.

"Mammaw was our family’s rock. She was the caretaker of her own confused, elderly mother, the behind-the-ear scrubber of her six-foot-tall teenaged son, the calm after my mother’s temperamental storms, the one who tucked a sick granddaughter into her own downstairs double bed and tended her with hot tea and buttered toast cut into finger-sized strips. In the 1950s, when we teased Mammaw about the lyrics of a popular song, 'Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,' she said, 'I always do get everything I want, but I always know just how much I can want.'”

*****

Digging up old documents and photos of our ancestors helps us piece together the facts and the journeys of their lives. If you didn't already know--and if you've bothered to read this far--I hope this post has given you some ideas about how to put together your own family puzzles. The truth is, though, that facts like these tell only part of the story. The most important part is what the ancestors you knew personally meant to you and why. Write it down, people, while you still remember.