Happy Halloween from Ella

 

Hi, from Ella,
I'm so glad so many of you like the picture of my aunt Sarah's cat Tucker. He is a furry nice cat. You can be sure that my aunt Sarah makes sure that he is safe on Halloween night. He's always safe inside her house along with Samson. 

My grammy found a couple of jokes about black cats.

Q: What do people in England call little black cats?
A: Kittens!

Q: When is it unlucky to have a black cat cross your path?
A: When you're a mouse!

I hope you all have a safe Halloween, and don't eat too much of your kid's candy.

Love,
Ella

Boo Y'all

  

Behold Tucker, Sarah's cat. Her friend, Sandra, whose work I've posted here before, sent this to Sarah a few days ago. When she e-mailed it to me, I told her that surely Tucker would be on my blog on Halloween.

I leave you with some great literature to ponder on Halloween.

Oh, Lovely, Lovely, Lovely

The witch flew out on Hallowe'en,
Her hair was blue, her nose was green,
Her teeth the longest ever seen,
Oh, she was lovely, lovely, lovely!

Her cat was black and fit and fat,
He lashed his tail and humped his back,
He scritched and scratched and hissed and spat,
Oh, he was lovely, lovely, lovely!

They rode a cleaner, not a broom.
"Go left!" screeched Puss and spoke their doom.
She turned right-they hit the moon.
Oh, it was lovely, lovely, lovely.

Anonymous

Back in Florida

I left Waynesboro Saturday morning and drove as far as Savannah, Georgia Saturday afternoon. Sunday morning I got up and drove until I arrived safely at home around 2 in the afternoon. I listened to the Bucs getting beat on the radio and finished watching some of it. They're pathetic this year.

Back in Florida the sun is shining, and it isn't nearly as hot as it was when I left at the end of September. It's good to be home, but I surely left my heart in Virginia with Ella and her parents. Hopefully, I'll get back up there soon. I have lots of things on my plate at the beginning of November. And then the holidays come. Our church choir is doing a cantata this year. We haven't for a couple of years. Sweet Adelines is doing a couple of Christmas shows, so I have to get busy on that music.

The first thing on my calendar tomorrow is to get my hair cut. When you wear it short, five or six weeks between cuts is a l-o-ong time. And the color begins to fade...

Until tomorrow.

Are You Renewing Your Dream?

This article rang a bell with me this morning when I read it, and I think that it follows well on "The Land of Sandra Dee." I think until about the age of 50 I kept thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up. After a while, the feeling passed, thinking it was probably too late to start on something else. These days I spend time keeping my heart beating, and my eyes seeing. I do keep a rather busy schedule, but sometimes I feel like I'm spinning my wheels. My month of taking care of my granddaughter has nearly come to an end. My, how I have loved being with this little baby and thinking of all the future holds for her. I sit back and admire my son and his wife how they have taken hold of the situation with her health and are doing everything in their power to see that she is as healthy as she can be and realizing that the rest is up to God.

Enjoy this post received once again from www.lifesupportsystem.com.

"Grandpa," a young girl asked, "were you in the ark with Noah?"

"Certainly not, my dear," Grandpa replied in astonishment.

"Then," the puzzled child continued, "why weren't you drowned?"

Maybe he seemed older than Noah to her, but seniors may be finally
getting respect they rightfully deserve. Hugh Downs reported that
when senior adults are properly motivated, their intelligence does
not wane. In fact, the ability to organize thinking may increase as
folks age. Many people in their 50's, 60's and even 70's can go
through college with greater efficiency than at 18.

Adults over 70 years of age have contributed richly and in varied
ways.

- Emmanuel Kant wrote his finest philosophical works at age 74.
- Verdi at 80 produced "Falstaff" and at 85, "Ave Maria."
- Goethe was 80 when he completed "Faust."
- Tennyson was 80 when he wrote "Crossing the Bar."
- Michelangelo completed his greatest work at 87.
- At 90, Justice Holmes was still writing brilliant American
Supreme Court opinions.

And then there's George Dawson. George learned to read at age 98. (He
was forced to quit school when he was a small child in order to help
support his family.) "I got tired of writing my name with an 'X,'" he
said. Four years later, at age 102, he wrote his autobiography, LIFE
IS SO GOOD (2001, Penguin Group).

Dreams are renewable. They need not expire like an over-due library
book. No matter our age, we can breathe new life into old dreams.
I believe that the best age is the age you are, but something even
better awaits just ahead for those with the courage to dream and to
act.

Are you renewing your dreams?

The Land of Sandra Dee

I received this from a couple of different people in e-mails recently. Not all of you can identify with all of this, but I surely can.

Long ago and far away,
In a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan
Or the dawn of Camelot.

There lived a race of innocents,
And they were you and me,
Long ago and far away
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Oh, there was truth and goodness
In that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges,
And Peyton Place was porn.

For Ike was in the White House,
And Hoss was on TV,
And God was in his heaven
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We learned to gut a muffler,
We washed our hair at dawn,
We spread our crinolines to dry
In circles on the lawn.

And they could hear us coming
All the way to Tennessee,
All starched and sprayed and rumbling
in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We longed for love and romance,
And waited for the prince,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz,
And no one's seen him since.

We danced to "Little Darlin'",
And Sang to "Stagger Lee"
And cried for Buddy Holly
In the Land of Sandra Lee.

Only girls wore earrings then,
And three was one to many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts,
Except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams
Did we expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We fell for Frankie Avalon,
Annette was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie,
They never made it twice.

We didn't have a Star Trek Five,
Or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold,
And Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat
Whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr. Wizard,
But not a Mr. T,
And Oprah couldn't talk yet
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We had our share of heroes,
We never thought they'd go,
At least not Bobby Darin, Or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal,
And life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever,
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We'd never seen the rock band
That was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson,
And Zeppelins weren't Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then,
And Monkees in a tree,
Madonna was a virgin
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We'd never heard of Microwaves,
Or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed,
But they weren't grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out,
And "gay" meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never coed
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We hadn't seen enough of jets
To talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at
The bottom of the bag.

And Hardware was a box of nails,
And bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Buicks came with portholes,
And side show came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough
To cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles,
And skirts came to the knee,
And Castro came to power
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We ! had no Crest with Fluoride,
We had no Hill Street Blues,
We all wore superstructure bras
Designed by Howard Hughes.

We had no patterned pantyhose
Or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for condoms
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

There were no golden arches,
No Perriers to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda,
And cats were not called Bill.

And middle-aged was thirty-five
And old was forty-three,
And ancient were our parents
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

But all things have a season,
Or so we've heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline
We swear by Retin-A.

And they send us invitations
To join AARP,
We've come a long way, baby,
From the Land of Sandra Dee.

So now we face a brave new world
In slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they're using
Smaller print in magazines.


And we tell our children's children
of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

What a kitty!

The smallest feline is a masterpiece. - Leonardo da Vinci

Saturday afternoon Sabrina and I drove out into the country to a baby shower. We were a little late getting there, and when we entered the home, there were about a dozen ladies gathered oohing and aahing over all the neat baby things.

As I sat there, I noticed a lady holding this kitten. I couldn't believe that a kitten was actually being calm among a group of women and girls.
After the gifts were opened, we were invited to go into the kitchen area for refreshments. I lingered behind to visit with the kitten. She was sleeping on the back of the sofa as you see here. When I picked her up, she made no effort to get out of my arms.

One of the ladies said that the lady of the house had found her out in the barn with the other cats, full of fleas and needing attention. She brought her in, worked on ridding her of fleas and bottlefed her until she was better.

I cannot imagine that there is nothing wrong with her. She is just so calm. I've never seen a cat quite like that. One of the ladies there said that she looks like a Himalayan kitten. I would have loved to have put her in my pocket and brought her home with me.

Cats are connoisseurs of comfort. - James Herriott

More fall photos

I love the sun shining through the colored leaves. This photo was taken as Sabrina and I were going to a baby shower Saturday afternoon.
While driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway, we stopped at a welcome center. A pioneer village has been recreated here.
Authentic cabins have been relocated here. They reminded me of my cousin's cabin in north Florida, although these are just as they were...no electricity, no running water, no plumbing.
For a better view, click on the photos. 

Fall Foliage

Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn.
- Elizabeth Lawrence

Come for a ride along the Blue Ridge Parkway. We left a little after noon for a ride to see the fall colors. We first of all started to the Skyline Drive, but the line was long waiting to pay to go into the park, so we decided to turn around and go south along the Blue Ridge ParkwayWaynesboro is at the juncture of the parkway and the Skyline Drive. The Appalachian Trail also runs parallel to the drive for a while. I don't know exactly how long...David could tell you all about that.
When tourists come to Florida, they're always in awe of the beaches and beauty of the state. I'm in awe of fall. I lived in Ohio for five years when I was out of college, but that was SO LONG AGO that I had forgotten how beautiful fall is. Last year, when I came to visit David and Sabrina, the leaves had not even begun to change, even though it was late in October. The day was cool; the air, crisp...a perfect day for being out and enjoying the wonder of God's creation.

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
- Emily Dickinson, Nature 27 - Autumn

Two Eyes, Two Hands

I received this in an e-mail from Steve Goodier. Perhaps you need this today or know someone who does.

An older couple lay in bed one morning, having just awakened from a
good night's sleep. He tenderly took her hand, but she pulled back
responding, "Don't touch me."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because I'm dead."

Her confused husband said, "What are you talking about? We're both
lying here in bed together and talking to one another."

"No," she said, "I'm definitely dead."

He insisted, "You're not dead. What in the world makes you think
you're dead?"

"Because I woke up this morning and nothing hurts."

It is good to be able to laugh when we can, and especially about
daily aches and pains or normal problems. But sometimes our
difficulties and losses are so staggering we wonder how long we can
cope. Lingering and chronic illness, loss of someone we love and
overwhelming worry can devastate us. All of us have known almost
unbearable pain and hardships. Heart-breaking times. We might
think we will never again wake up feeling good.

A wise obstetrician at a university teaching hospital once made a
comment about suffering. Someone asked the doctor what advice he
offered to his students, future doctors and nurses, when caring for
mothers who gave birth to stillborn infants.

The doctor paused for a moment in thought. Then he said this: "I tell
them that they need two eyes. One eye is not enough; they need two
eyes. With one eye they have to check the I.V.; and with the other
eye they have to weep. That's what I tell them," he said. "I tell
them that they need two eyes."

He knows the secret of hard times: we need two eyes. One for seeing,
the other for weeping. And we need two hands. One for holding on, the
other for reaching out.

I don't know all there is to know about suffering. But I do know the
way to survive it. Two eyes; two hands. That's how we get through
this life best.

I don't have a cat, but...

I received this photo in an e-mail today. Since it's still Tuesday, I believe that it qualifies well for Tummy Tuesday.

Another note from Ella

Hi, do I look ready for Halloween? My grandma brought me this black cat cap when she came up from Florida. My mommy got me the orange jacket. We had to go out in the yucky weather today to go visit the specialist to see how I'm doing. My daddy put me in the car, and then my grandma and I drove "over the mountain" from Waynesboro to Charlottesville where my doctor's office is. My mommy called the house to tell us that there was dense fog on the mountain. Well, dense it was. My grandma got a bit scared, but I didn't know the difference because I was asleep in the back seat. SRP, my grandma's blogging friend from Virginia Beach, had told her about driving in the fog on the mountain, but it was my grandma's first time.

We made it safely there. Everyone kept saying how beautiful I am. The nurse and doctor, respiratory therapist, and social worker were all so glad to see me. I'm gaining weight like I should, and I don't have any respiratory problems now.

They're all sort of learning with me because screening for cystic fibrosis was just made mandatory in Virginia in the spring of this year. According to the CF Foundation website, there are 22 states that require this screening. If I have to have this disease, it's sort of good they found out now. That way, maybe the doctors can prevent scarring to my lungs.

There is a 38 year old scientist at Johns Hopkins who has CF, and he is working every day to find a way to fix the gene. I'm counting on him or somebody like him to succeed in his search.

By the way, I like all the nice things you say about my pictures and my last letter. One of these days I'm going to smile really big for a picture, but not yet.

Bye for now.

 

Which do you prefer?

Last weekend I drove across I-64 this past weekend to visit my brother-in-law and his family. While there, we went to B*sch Gardens-Williamsburg. There was quite a crowd there...spooks and goblins aplenty. I had been planning to go the weekend before, but the weather was bad here in Waynesboro and worse in Yorktown, so I stayed in. I'm sure many of the people who had planned to go to Busch Gardens the weekend before decided to take advantage of the nice weather and get their visit in. The first place that the 18 year old nephew headed was for one of the roller coasters. I was happy to watch from a distance. I rode a roller coaster once at Coney Island near Cincinnati, and I promised God that if he would let me get off alive, I'd never ride another one. I don't believe that my heart could stand it.
The eight year old nephew chose the tamer rides and activities. The teacups look familiar. They were always a favorite of ours at W**tDisneyWorld when our children were younger. My daughter, who now can only ride if she is the driver, loved the teacups. One year we went on President's Day. David and Sarah and their dad rode the teacups. Don eneded up in the first aid room. He apparently had some fluid in his ears and ended up dizzy. Later in the day, David crawled up in my lap. He was coming down with something, but he swore that the teacups made him sick.
The fishing game was sort of neat. The nephew got to fish until he caught one and then was able to choose a prize.
I enjoyed worshipping at my brother-in-law's church, where he serves as music minister and Christian Education director and anything else that needs to be done. We worshipped in the gym because the congregation has outgrown the sanctuary. That's a nice problem for a church to have.

It was a good weekend, but a tiring one. My stamina is not really good at best, and I'm used to flat terrain. So after an afternoon and evening of tramping around the park, I was ready for a comfortable bed. 

Ella Marie

When Sarah and I came up over Labor Day weekend to visit with Ella and her parents, I brought along some clothes that I had kept from my children. On Sunday, when we were getting ready for church, Sabrina brought Ella out in a dress that Sarah had worn when she was a baby twenty-nine years ago.

I'm amazed at the generosity of friends who have given clothes to Ella...hand-me-downs maybe, but they are worn so little before they grow out of them that they look new. I don't think that they will need to buy any clothes in the next two years.

Ella and I went to Charlottesville today to have lunch with her mommy. Of course, everyone oohed and aahed over the pretty baby. We're not at all proud
We're ready for Halloween already. Before I came up I say the CUTEST costumes at Cracker Barrel. The smallest size was 9 months, so I didn't buy anything, but I was surely tempted. I went to K-Mart after I got here to get some things, and I found this bib. It works perfectly for this year. The fun begins.

Gas is 1.79 in Staunton, Virginia. How about that. 

Monday musings, or something like that

I read an interesting quote this morning that came in my e-mail from Steve Goodier.

The only thing that separates any one of us from excellence is fear,
and the opposite of fear is faith. I am careful not to confuse
excellence with perfection. Excellence I can reach for; perfection
is God's business. -- Michael J. Fox

I particularly like the last sentence. Perfection is God's business. Isn't that a wonderful thought. We'll certainly never attain perfection on our own. But Paul wrote in Philippians, "Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ."
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Bet, at Dappled Things refers to an interesting article in Business Week that addresses the freshness of items in our pantries. According to this article, I should probably throw out all my cake mixes and some of my canned goods. Since I live alone now, I don't cook like I used to, but when I go to the store, sometimes I just can't pass up a bargain. If I buy it and don't use it, it really isn't a bargain is it.
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My friend Tammy, Kentucky Gal finds herself in a tough spot. Her husband's plant voted to go on strike, and they are crushed. This morning in her blog she said that the two of them would be out job hunting today. Stop by and leave a thought of encouragement for her.
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Melangehas a beautiful post today - a photo of a rose in sepia tones. It is lovely as is the writing.
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Yesterday Ella wore a dress to church that belonged to my daughter Sarah when she was an infant. I haven't uploaded it to my computer yet, but I'll post it when I do. She hasn't quite got the idea of smiling when she sees the camera yet.

Later...

The many faces of Samson

Oh, it has been a cold and rainy day here in Virginia. I had planned to drive from Waynesboro to Yorktown today to visit my brother and sister-in-law and their sons. I started out, but before I got to the interstate, I turned around and came back home.

I've watched a lot of football today and read lots of blogs, and I didn't think that I'd post anything today, but I remembered a photo that my daughter sent me in e-mail yesterday. I've posted photos of Tucker and Samson before on this blog, but this one of Samson is exceptional.


Sarah works at a large human resourse company here, and one of her managers picked up a camera one day and started taking photos. She realized that she loved photography and has done some lovely work. She has just retired from her job and is hoping to do more and more photography.

One Saturday she went to Sarah's house to photograph Tucker and Samson. Samson turned out to be the ham, and this is one of the pieces that she did for Sarah. To see more of her work, go here.

Moses, Sam, and Butternut

After leaving my cousin's home in north Florida, I drove to north Georgia to stay for a few days with my friend Eunice. Eunice is a friend from Bradenton who five years ago built a home in north Georgia where she spends her summers. I've visited there several times before, but I looked forward to these few days before leaving for Virginia. The sourwood trees had already changed color when I arrived there so I got my first glimpse of fall.I know that Friday is Ark Day for cat bloggers, so I'll add a cat here. Meet Moses. Moses is fourteen years old and came to live with Eunice on Christmas Eve many years ago. She rescued him from being euthanized. He was living his last day on earth unless he was adopted that day. The people at the shelter called him Groucho because of his black "moustache", but Eunice changed his name to Moses since she had rescued him, just as Moses in the Old Testament was rescued from the bullrushes.
Over the past few years Moses has been ill, and it was thought a couple of times that he would need to be put down, but he lives on. He loves the summer home in north Georgia. There is a wonderful screen porch that he can spend his carefree days on, or he has a wonderful comfy spot on Eunice's bed where he spends a lot of his time.
This is Sam. Sam came to live in the neighborhood a couple of years ago. Evidently abused, he would not let anyone touch him. Kathy and Norm, Eunice's neighbors, began feeding him. When they were away, Eunice would take care of him. Her food was better than Kathy and Norm's. She really spoiled him. Last year Kathy and Norm decided to get a dog, and they tried their best to get Sam to come into their house, but nothing doing. They ended up adopting a dog who is their companion inside. Sam moved to Eunice's and there he stays. She spoils him rotten. The closest she can get to touching him is when Sam nuzzles her hand whenever she's giving him a treat.
Just down the road lives Butternut. At least he eats there in the morning and night. He lives with a young man and his daughter. The young man's wife died in an accident some time ago, and the dad is trying his best to work and raise his daughter. The dog doesn't receive much attention there, so guess where he has ended up. You guessed it...on Eunice's front porch. Sam and Butternut spend their time there, waiting for the magic hour when Eunice walks out the front door to give them a treat. She feeds Sam regularly too. When Eunice comes back to Bradenton later in October, the rest of the neighborhood will take care of the dogs. They're good that way.
Moses will make another trip to Florida where he will spend the winter and spring with Eunice, waiting for the next trip to Georgia where he'll be able to enjoy that wonderful screen porch with his wonderful mom.

Meanwhile, back at the cabin

I thought I'd bring you back for one more look at my cousin's cabin. I hope there aren't any P*TA people out there viewing this who will find it objectionable. Those deer do have beautiful eyes, though, don't they. It's getting to be that season, isn't it. These heads are mounted near the front door as you enter.In the kitchen above the window these tins can be seen. I love those Cracker Jacks.
They've carefully constructed a split-rail fence along the property. These aren't seen too much any more.
After an hour or so of visiting with my cousin and walking around her property, I made my way down the road on my way to Georgia. I love coming to this spot to see what's new (or old) at the cabin, but most of all, to visit my cousin. She and her husband have done so much to preserve a little bit of the past in her county.
If you ever drive down I-75, take the first exit, go to Jennings. The city hall is on the left just after you cross U.S. 41. Stop in and ask for Sharon. Tell her Beverly sent you. She'll give you a warm southern welcome. She might even leave the office and take you for a tour of her place. 

Hi, from Virginia

Hi, my name is Ella. My grandma came all the way from Florida to take care of me this month. My mommy went back to work on Monday, and I'm all alone with my grandma during the day. I take a nice long nap in the morning, but after I eat lunch at noon, we go for a walk down the street where I live.My grandma is so excited to see the leaves that are changing colors and falling to the ground. She came to Virginia last year in October, but it was hot and the leaves would not change their colors for her. So, while we're out walking, she stops and looks and takes pictures of the pretty leaves.
She even takes pictures of the leaves that fall to the ground. She's just glad that she doesn't have to rake them up. My daddy raked three big bags full last Saturday. When we got back to the house, my grandma laid me on the changing table and took off my clothes because it was hot outside. I love to lie on the changing table and look outside and all around.
. Today is my two month birthday On Friday my grandma will take me to the pediatrician for my two month checkup, and you know what that means...shots. I have to get a shot for RSV every month during the fall and winter to help me not get sick.

Every morning and every evening my mommy and daddy have to do physical therapy on me. They thump my chest and my back to try to keep my lungs clear. Every time that I eat I have to take enzymes to help my food digest. My daddy prays every day that the scientists will find a way to fix my gene that caused me to have cystic fibrosis.

On the 17th, I get to go with my grandma to meet my mommy for an appointment with the CF specialist in Charlottesville at the university hospital. They will poke and prod and x-ray to see how I'm doing. I'll be sure to let you know.

My grandma is tired at night after she has taken care of me all day. She says that she should have gone to the gym to build up her muscles before she came up here.

She's going to show you some pictures from Georgia, but she wanted you to see how much I've grown. I'll come back another time and see you again. 

Do you have an anchor?

I received this in an e-mail this morning from Steve Goodier.

"Though I have never seen it, I'm told that the Niagara River has acouple of interesting signs upstream of the famous falls. There is one by the side of the river visible to daredevil boaters that reads,"Do you have an anchor?" Then just downstream is a second sign tha tsays, "Do you know how to use it?""Do you have an anchor?"

I have found that a solid anchor is indispensable to one who intends to live life fully. To have an anchor is to be centered and well-grounded. It is to have a vitalspiritual base."Do you know how to use it?" For no amount of faith is enough if it is not used. We all come to what has been described as the "Red Sea place" in ourlives. That is the place where there is no way back and no way around. We have to go through.You know the places I mean. We find ourselves up against a critical loss, an irreversible setback or a course of action that cannot be changed. There is no way back and no way around. We have to go through.

Even a small ship can weather major storms if it has an anchor. But it is likely to be tossed about and even capsized if the anchor is not used. What will you do when you get to the next "Red Sea place" in yourlife? Do you have an anchor? Do you know how to use it?"

What or who is your anchor? I find mine in my faith in God and Jesus Christ. The last words from an old gospel song speak what I believe.

Though the angry surges roll
On my tempest driven soul,
I am peaceful, for I know,
Wildly though the winds may blow,
I’ve an anchor safe and sure,
That can evermore endure.

Refrain

And it holds, my anchor holds:
Blow your wildest, then, O gale,
On my bark so small and frail;
By His grace I shall not fail,
For my anchor holds, my anchor holds.

Mighty tides about me sweep,
Perils lurk within the deep,
Angry clouds o’ershade the sky,
And the tempest rises high;
Still I stand the tempest’s shock,
For my anchor grips the rock.

Refrain

I can feel the anchor fast
As I meet each sudden blast,
And the cable, though unseen,
Bears the heavy strain between;
Through the storm I safely ride,
Till the turning of the tide.

Refrain

Troubles almost ’whelm the soul;
Griefs like billows o’er me roll;
Tempters seek to lure astray;
Storms obscure the light of day:
But in Christ I can be bold,
I’ve an anchor that shall hold.

Refrain

A walk around the outside

Come in and sit a spell. Do you remember those days? If you're anywhere near my age, you surely remember having to walk down the path. Whenever we went to my grandma and grandpa's house, we had to take that trip. It was a two-seater, but I don't think anyone ever shared the space. Sharon and her husband built this one out back of the cabin to add to the authenticity. It is NOT a working outhouse, however. I'm sure that there are still some somewhere. When I lived in Haiti, it was common to have to use an outhouse when in the country. It never bothered me, but some of the missionary women who had been raised in the city and then come to Haiti had a bit of a hard time.These kettles and pitchers and whatnot are on the steps going up to the screen porch on the back of the cabin. The screen porch is the latest thing that they've added.
This is the view from the front porch.
And who does not remember all of the buildings and birdhouses that had this famous sign on it? See Rock City. When our children were young, we went to Chattanooga and indeed did see Rock City. In the yard you notice a well. Sharon's husband brought home a piece of drainage pipe from a job and has bricked around it. They have a bucket, but they're looking for a piece of old rope to attach it to.
This is such a delightful place, and my cousin has thoroughly enjoyed the building and furnishing of it. I made the comment to her that her property tax had probably gone up. She said, "Yes, they tried to, but I went to the county and "pitched me a Sharon fit, and they backed down some." She's the city clerk for Jennings, so I guess she has a little clout. Good for her! 

More of the cabin

Yesterday I showed you the kitchen in my cousin's cabin. As we walk around the room, we see this cabinet which contains many of the things that Sharon has collected. Whenever she and her husband go somewhere and see something that suits their fancy, they get it if it is within reason. One of her favorite collections is Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls and paraphernalia. This wall and the adjacent wall contain all sorts of Raggedy's.
As you go from the kitchen into the living room and look toward the stairs, this quilt hangs. There are several quilts in the cabin. When I asked Sharon if she had made this one, she said, "No, I don't like to work on anything that takes too long. I want to do it and get it done." However, when her mother, my aunt, was suffering from cancer, the daughters would gather at her house, and they would spend time quilting.
Once my friend Lorette and I stopped by her house. Lorette had been looking for just the right quilt for her house, thinking she'd have to spend big bucks for one. When she saw all of Sharon's quilts, she said to her, "Where did you get all these quilts? Did you make them?"
"No," my cousin said, "I find some at Big Lots, some at WalMart." Lorette was a bit flabbergasted. She was thinking, I'm sure, that any quilt worth anything would surely cost lots. I think she learned a bit of a lesson that day.