Sing God's Praises

Sunday night was another wonderful experience in my new life here in Virginia.  When I was a girl, all-night gospel sings were popular, and many times we went to hear the gospel quartets sing.  They didn't quite last all night, but they did go on for a long time.  And then, in our town churches used to get together on a fifth Sunday for a hymn sing after church on Sunday night.  I remember how I always loved going to those.

Last night there was an evening sing at one of the local Mennonite churches.  Several churches gathered together to sing and to listen to groups from the different churches.  One of my early memories of Mennonites was that they used no instruments in their churches, and all the singing was a capella.  In some churches, that may still be the case, but last evening there were lots of instruments.

Bluegrass music is popular here.  I don't know if it is because of the part of the country we are in, or just what the reason, but it is popular.  One family sang and accompanied themselves on banjos, guitars, bass fiddles, and I believe I saw a mandolin.

Since it was Palm Sunday, a lot of the music centered around the resurrection.  The group above sang "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?"

The group from our church sang an Easter canon and a number about the price He paid on the cross.

We did do some a capella singing.  At a couple of spots a lady came up with her pitch pipe and led in a couple of songs.  I think that was my favorite part.  When she introduced one of the songs, she said that it was one that "we had all learned in school." When she blew the pitch, you could hear all the parts coming on right on pitch, and then it started.  I loved it!  I love it at church when the accompaniment drops out and all you hear are the voices.

I looked for it on the internet, and I found a video of it being sung by a men's chorus in India.  You have to listen hard to hear all the words, but you certainly can hear all the parts.  I'll be singing it in my head for a while, and I hope our church sings it so that I can learn it better.  Click on the link to watch and listen.

The photos used in this blog were used with permission of Ginny from Let Your Light Shine.

An afternoon at an auction

Earlier in the week, my friends told me about an auction that would be taking place on Thursday afternoon at the home of one of the ladies in the church.  She has sold her home and is moving into a retirement center in the area and had an auction at her house to sell all the "stuff."

The auction was to start at four in the afternoon.  Even though we had arrived a bit early, there were already a lot of cars there, and with them a lot of people who were milling around, looking at all the treasures to be sold.

Do you see the telephone on the table?  I remember my aunt's having one on the wall of her home in Florida many years ago.  I would have loved to have it on my wall, but I resisted.  The bell still worked when you cranked it.  Remember the party lines?

The accordian was another treasure that was there.  Everyone looked at it with interest.  The case was old and worn, like the accordian, but I know it became  someone's special purchase.  Seeing it reminded me of my cousin, Mary Ann, who was a serious accordian player in her day.

Not something that would be useful in Florida, I'm sure someone will know just what to do with these.

Jars, jars, jars.  I can just imagine that these were a hot commodity.  My mother would put these to good use.  When she died, there was a wall of food that she had "put up."

 There were lots of books there, but this one in particular caught my eye.  I would be interested  in reading this one since Mennonites are pacifists, and I wonder what role they played.  Perhaps they were in a support role.  I'll have to find out.

There were quite a few folks from the church there that I'm attending, so it gave me an opportunity to get to know them all a little bit better.  Names, names, names, I'm trying to learn names.  And so far, I'm not doing too badly.

A simpler way of life

On Monday, I went a few miles north of where I am now living to visit the Shenandoah Market. After we had finished looking around there, my friends took me to see some of the surrounding area.  Phil said, "I want to show you a church that is quite unusual."  When he drove up to the church ( and for some reason, I didn't take a photo of the church,) I saw that there were no parking spaces for cars.  The entire area around the church was filled with places to hitch one's horse and buggy

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 This particular church was of the old order of Mennonite.  There are no tire tracks, only the marks of the buggy wheels.  The parking lot, or hitching lot, is very organized.

 There are posts to hitch the horse and a concrete slab at each spot to put the feed for the animals.

Next to the church, as is seen in many areas, is the cemetary for the members who have gone on.  

 On the way back, we stopped by the lake where we saw these lovely swans.

In several yards I saw something that one hardly sees any more.  I remember we always hung our clothes out to dry.  I remember one time my mother got so upset because someone had come along and stolen some of the clothes from the line.  I don't imagine that would happen in a community like this.

In this area of Virginia where I have moved, there are a lot of Mennonites, and there are several different kinds, just like the Baptists and the Presbyterians, and other denominations.  When I got home, I googled "Old Order Mennonites" and found a very interesting article that was published a few years ago in a Virginia magazine.  I think you would find it interesting too.  You can read it here.

It's a Small World, After All

It's a small world, after all.  No, I haven't been to Disney, but I'll bet you'll be humming that song all day.  I've been in Virginia for two weeks now.  When I arrived, it was very, very cold...at least very cold for this Floridian.  Snow was on the ground, and there was more to follow.  Temperatures hovered around zero for a couple of nights, but two weeks later, spring is definitely in the air.  Right now at 11:30, it's 62 with a high expected of 72 today.  It isn't going to stay quite that way all week, but it's getting there.  Crocuses are popping up .around the city  I understand they are the first flowers of spring.  At least, they are the first I have seen.

My daughter, Sarah, has been helping me get settled in by unpacking boxes and moving some things to the basement that I won't be using for a while.  She has broken down boxes to make them easier to take to the recycling center.  I hope I can find someone who might need them before I take them.  David has been a great help too.  He did all the legwork in my buying this house.  In fact, he found it for me.  It is a perfect fit.  I really like being on one level, but this means I have to do more exercising since I don't have stairs to contend with.

I was at a dinner the other night at David's church, and I sat at a table with a couple who have ties with Haiti.  As we were talking, the gentleman said that his wife's parents had been missionaries in Trinidad, so I asked him if they knew one of the missionaries who had been with the board I was with.  It turns out that the ladies were best friends.

This morning I had occasion to go to the post office, and when the clerk saw the package I was mailing, she said, "Oh, I used to live there."   She graduated from Riverview High School in Sarasota, was in the band, and later lived in Bradenton.

There is another couple here in Waynesboro whose daughter graduated from BCS with my son.  I found out about that when I mentioned Waynesboro to a friend at home before I moved.  He said, "Oh, I'm going to be going there for a family reunion next summer.  My brother and his wife moved there to be near the grandkids."

So, it is a small world, isn't it.

Spring is on its way

The snow has melted.  At least the snow that had accumulated on lawns.  There are still piles of snow in parking lots, and it will probably be there a while.  The photos in this post are from years past.  Looking at them has made me want to get my camera out and start taking photos.  Nothing is budding yet, but it will come!

 In my old age, I'm experiencing some things I haven't before.  Someone asked me in church yesterday how long it had been since I had seen snow, or if I had ever seen it.  When I lived in Cincinnati back in the late 60's, there was some snow, although it wasn't the norm.  I've been here in Virginia a few times in the last few years when there has been some, but I haven't lived here during the winter.

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 I did have a frosty welcome.  Friends in Florida had asked me if I was sure I wanted to come when I did.  My response was "If winter come, can spring be far behind."  In Florida one of the signs of spring is spring training for baseball, and I must say I am enjoying the posts on Facebook that show the Pirates and the Rays getting ready for opening day

 I am quickly becoming a fan of UVA sports.  The basketball team has been ranked #2 for most of the season, having lost only 2 games.  It will be fun to see what they do in the post-season.  The baseball team does well too...if they can just get the football team up there, we'll be all set.

 

 Back to the snow...the other evening I made the mistake of getting a caramel mocha about 9 o'clock and found myself awake most of the night.  As I was lying in bed, the light was so bright outside, and as I looked out, I was in awe of the light of the full moon on the snow.  That was a first, and one that I hope I will see again, just not this year.  In the morning when I got up and looked out, I saw the hoof prints of deer in the snow, some large and some small...perhaps a mother and her fawn.

David said, "Mom, you might see some on your street at night. Be careful when you're driving home."  Sure enough, last evening when I came near my house, there was a large deer in the middle of the street, and when I turned to go into the driveway, I saw a small one run toward the back of the house.

Now back to unpacking....stay tuned.

Changes

Over the last year, I pondered making a move to Virginia to be near my children.  All my life, except for college years and ten years after that, were spent in Florida.  I'm one of those rare Florida natives that one runs into occasionally, and I've always been very proud of that fact.  I love looking at sites, like Old Florida on Facebo*k and seeing photos of cracker houses and sugar cane mills that remind me so much of my grandparents' home in north Florida.

Whenever I'm out with friends, I invariably run into someone I've known, either from high school, from church, from work, from Sweet Adelines.  I've always loved that...that feeling of familiarity with everything around me.

Well, at my ripe old age, I've moved from Florida to Virginia, to the Shenandoah Valley, to new surroundings, where I will find I have to find my new normal.  I've been coming to Virginia for the last eight years, spending lots of time here with my granddaughter and my son.  Five years ago, my daughter moved here so that she could be closer to Ella and David.  The only time she would see Ella was when they might come to Florida, and she said to me, "Mom, I want to see Ella grow up." So she moved.

So I've moved.  They are the only family I have.  I've bought a home here, and I am in the middle of boxes being unpacked and things put away.  I'm waiting for the delivery of bedroom furniture tomorrow...hopefully, but it is supposed to snow, so I don't imagine it will make it tomorrow.  It will be over a week before I get internet and TV, so I'm spending time during the day at David's using his internet.   It's amazing how unnecessary TV becomes when you don't have it.

I hope to blog more.  I'm looking forward to a trip out west in May, and then I hope to get really settled in and get to know this area more.

So...while they're singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" in Florida, folks here are singing "Let it Snow" or, maybe I should say, "Snow, Snow, Go Away.  Come again another day."

I Can See Clearly Now

A few weeks ago, I posted on Facebook, asking friends to tell me their experience with cataract surgery and which doctor had done their surgery and the results.  I got many responses and recommendations

This photo has nothing whatsoever to do with this post.  I just like it.

In 1999, I had a hemorrhage in my right eye which took my central vision.  Most of you will recognize it as "wet macular degeneration."  That was quite a blow to me, but I carried on.  It was obvious that I could still see well with my left eye and had good peripheral vision in the right eye.  Doctors did tell me that when I developed cataracts, they would be very hesitant to do surgery on them, for fear of something going wrong.  Listening to the folks who posted on Facebook, there were some who did experience difficulties.

I had consulted with a doctor about six months ago, asking about cataract surgery, and he assured me that if I had the surgery, I should not expect great results because of my problems.  I drove to Virginia in August, and when I got on the road, I realized I was not seeing nearly as well as I should.  When I got home, I began pursuing surgery.

To make a long story short, I had both eyes done.  The doctor assured me that in my good eye, where the cataract had really taken over, he could bring the vision back to 98% of what it should be.  I had that eye done first, and, oh my, the difference the next day was just incredible.  I had heard people talk about the brightness of colors.  They were right.  I found myself just looking and looking and soaking in the wonderful colors and sharpness of vision.  My right eye was done the next week, and while the central vision was not improved, the peripheral vision is good.

I just read a post on Facebook from Humans of New York.  He interviewed a young woman who is losing her eyesight due to retinosa pigmentosa.  That is a condition where the peripheral vision narrows until the vision is totally diminished.  She said that she is looking at everything...the clouds, the sky, the green grass, knowing that one day she will not be seeing them at all.

That's a bit how I feel.  I'm loving every day of seeing well.  And if the day comes, or when the day comes that my vision is diminished because of dry macular degeneration, I will have had this gift for this time.

Don and I used to sing a song in church that had the words "Heav'n above is softer blue, earth below is sweeter green."  It's true.

And I guess the moral of the story is...if you are 50 or over, have a thorough eye exam by an ophthalmologist, not an optometrist.  An optometrist is great for prescribing glasses and should be able to catch problems, but they don't always.  Mine didn't.  I am thankful, however, for the technology and knowledge that is available today at our disposal!

Past Halloweens with Ella

Looking back through my files, I decided to post some photos of Ella in past Hallowe'ens.  She was just three months old when her first Hallowe'en came around.

 By the time the next year came, she was ready for trick or treating, pretty little flower.

 Then along came Little Red Riding Hood, her basket all ready to receive treats.

By the time she was three, her love for elephants began to develop.  Here she was a Heffalump.  I'm waiting to see what she will be this year.

Along the Way

I've recently returned from a trip to Virginia.  One of the pluses of driving is being able to stop along the way to visit friends.  On my way home this time, I went by Raleigh and visited with Mr. and Mrs. Kenju, from Just Ask Judy.  this is the fourth or fifth time that we have gotten together for lunch and lots of talk.  This time was no different.  Mr. and Mrs. Kenju just celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary yesterday, so that occupied some of our conversation.

After I left their house, I drove to a friend's house to visit and spend the night.  It's always a delight to stop there. Even though she lives close to the interstate, when I am at her house, I feel like I am in the country.  As I drove to her house, I saw fields of tobacco growing.  It really is a beautiful crop.  The leaves are full and green, with blossoms at the top.  On either side of her house were fields of soybeans.

Her home is the house that she grew up in.  Her parents have been gone for some time now, and she has remodeled the house to her fancy.  Her dad's old barn is still there, as well as his old pick-up truck.  Beside the house is the old tobacco barn that was used in years past.

One of my favorite things, besides visiting with my friend, is her cat, Fred.  Fred came to live with her after she retired from her main job.  They are quite the pair, and I love petting her.  Fred is being pestered by a mockingbird who has made it his object to pester the life out of her.  

After a good dinner, sitting out on her new patio and a good night's rest, I was on my way home to Florida the next day.  Because I travel a road where there are not a lot of good places to stay, I stop in Kingsland, Georgia for the night instead of driving all the way home.  The last two times I've stopped there, the desk clerks have said to me, "You have stayed here before, haven't you."  I like that.

By the time I got home, I really wasn't all that tired.  I hadn't driven a whole lot any one day, and traffic was light on the interstate coming home this time.  That was a good thing.

Lacoochee Then and Now

I'm going to try really hard to blog more.  When I'm away from home, there seems to be more time. When I'm home sitting with my computer, I see all the things that I should be doing.  When I'm away, I don't see it, so....

I changed my header photo yesterday.  The name of my blog is "Lacoochee Kid."  Lacoochee is a little town in Pasco County in the state of Florida.  I was born there way back when there was lots of activity.  Lacoochee was a "company town."  The Cummer company operated a cypress lumber mill there, and my father was a foreman for the company.  We moved away when I was just turning four, so my memories are a bit dim.  However, I did go back and spend time with my aunt and cousin at various times.

The photos in the collage are some of the remains of Lacoochee.  I do remember my parents saying, "When the war (WWII) is over, we're leaving Lacoochee," and they did.  They moved to Bradenton, and that is where I grew up and where I live today.  The lumber mill closed in the 50's.  Another company came in, but there is nothing there now.  The old mill is there, but the hotel, the commissary, and all the houses are gone.  Lacoochee does have an elementary school, but I have never ventured far enough to find it.

The street markers in the photo are reminders of the past.  Lewis Abraham's father owned and operated a drug store on the main business street (the only business street) of the town.  I think if Lacoochee had had a mayor, Abe would have been it.  His drug store was a favorite meeting place.  I have a picture on my wall at home of him and his wife in the drug store.  I'll post that another day.  Abe came to the States from Syria, established himself, and then went back for his bride, and brought her to begin their lives together in America.  His son, Lewis, is well-remembered in Pasco County for his business acumen.  Abe had a daughter, Lorise, who has written much of the history of Lacoochee.  Someone named her the "Lacoochee Lady."  My first cousin was first cousin with Lewis and Lorise, so I feel connected to them as though they were family.

The last photo of the old house isn't actually in Lacoochee.  It is in the little town of Trilby, just a mile or two away on the other side of Highway 301.  That house belonged to my daddy's parents.  Before my parents were married, he lived there and rode his bike to work at the mill each day.  The house was close to the railroad tracks.  My granddaddy worked for at the train depot there.  Between the house and train depot was a field of phlox.  I loved seeing those flowers, and they always remind me of my grandparents.  I don't know who owns the house now.  The last time I went by, it looked as though someone is using it to store junk in.


Not much remains of Lacoochee now, but much of the town can be seen in the Pioneer Florida Museum in Dade City.  I love to visit there and remember.

Catching up

 It has been a while since I have updated this blog.  I used to write a lot, particularly a lot about Ella.  Time has flown by, and Ella has finished second grade. The photo at the top was taken after her seventh birthday last August.  The day after her party she quickly sat down and wrote thank you notes for all the gifts that she received.  Her parents have taught her well the importance of being grateful and expressing her thanks in a tangible way.

One of Ella's favorite ways to pass her time is to read.  She has a book in her hand almost wherever she goes.  Right now she is reading the series of books, The Diary of a Wimpy Kid and A Series of Unfortunate Events.  She recently read Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. After reading the book, she watched the movie, then at the dinner table discussed the similarities and differences between the movie and the book.

I was sick during March and into April.  David asked me if I could come up and be with Ella during her spring break.  I told him I wasn't sure at all if I  would feel up to it, but I went.  One day, I told Ella that I needed to lie down on the sofa.  She got right up with me and began reading to me.  The tables had turned.

 In Ella's after school program, the opportunity to take violin lessons was given to the children, and so that has been added to her activities.  The Waynesboro Symphony Orchestra has provided the instruments, the teachers, and the lessons without charge to the students.  What a wonderful opportunity is theirs to learn to play.  I'm going to polish my violin, get a new bow and string's and see if I can keep up with her.

This photo was taken by Ginny, one of Ella's former caregivers at a recent program at Ella's school.  I have spent this past week being taxi driver for Ella and her different activities.   I'm spending this next week with Sarah in Charlottesville, and then going home for a little while, and then returning for birthday number 8.

Happy Birthday, Sarah

Happy Birthday, Sarah

The winter of 1977 was a cold one in Florida, and when I mention it to folks from the north, they seem to remember it well too. On the way to the hospital on the morning of January 20, the bank thermometer registered 26 degrees. It was cold. Jimmy Carter was inaugurated that day, and Sarah was born.

The years have gone by quickly. Sarah has grown in to a lovely, young woman. I am so glad that I got to be her mother.

Happy birthday, Aunt Sarah.

The day after

It's the day after Christmas.  Sarah and I enjoyed a quiet day together, waiting for Ella to return with her family from Sabrina's parents' house.  We'll celebrate together in the next day or two.  I hope you all had a good time together with family wherever you found yourselves.

I've neglected this blog for so long, and I sometimes think of taking it down, but I do treasure the friends made through this medium, and I do like to stay connected.

Steve Goodier of Life Support System posted this a few days ago, and it is so fitting for every day, not just Christmas.  You can find Steve's postings here.

An Incredible Feeling

Newscaster Paul Harvey once told about a woman who called the Butterball Turkey Company and said that she had a turkey that had been in her freezer for 23 years. She asked if it was still any good. She was told that if her freezer was at least zero degrees Fahrenheit, then the turkey was probably safe enough to eat. But they wouldn’t recommend that she eat it. The flavor would have deteriorated considerably. She said, “That’s what we thought. I guess we’ll just give it to the church.”
   
I suppose there are many reasons we choose to give. But people who enjoy sharing with others the most do not share simply because they have a need to get rid of something. Those who find the greatest joy from giving have learned to give from a deeper place; they give from their hearts.
   
Santa Claus is becoming a universal symbol of giving. Millions of children write letters to Santa each year in hopes that they won’t be forgotten during his annual giving spree. Did you know that the US Post Office actually found ways to answer those letters to Santa Claus? They used to just stick them in the so-called dead letter box. But now some cities have programs that allow people to sort through these hand-written pleas, hopes and wishes and become “Santas” to others in need. They choose a letter and respond however they can. Most anyone can play Santa.
   
One letter that might have been discarded a few years ago, but was picked up by a volunteer Santa Claus, came from a boy named Donny. He wrote that he wanted a bike for Christmas and “some food and what I really need is love.”
   
Another volunteer Santa latched onto a letter from a young mother who wrote, “I lost my job...and I cannot afford to give my two children the things they need for the winter months.” That generous spirit helped with some necessities for the children.
   
“I like to go to their home on Christmas Eve,” one joyful Santa said. One year he bought presents for four children and a ham for their mother. Then he added this poignant observation: “The feeling you get is just incredible.”
   
I admit it – I don't always get that feeling when I give. But then I don't always give out of untainted motivations. Sometimes I give from other places. Sometimes I give out of social obligation or out of guilt. Or I give with an expectation for receiving back. But I give best when I give from that deeper place; when I give simply, freely and generously, and sometimes for no particular reason. I give best when I give from my heart.

At the orchard

During my visit to California, we visited the Otow Orchard.  This sign greeted us as we drove down the driveway to the house and barn of the orchard.

The orchard has several varieties of fruit, but our attention that day was drawn to the persimmons and the preservation of the fruit.

The following is a quote from the orchard's website.  Please be sure to click on the link to read further about the hosigaki method of treating the fruit. There is a slideshow there that shows step by step the process. The following is a quote from the website.

"Otow Orchard is renowned for preserving the Japanese art of hoshigaki -- hoshi means dried and gaki is from kaki, the Japanese word for persimmon.

Our fresh persimmons are dried each fall in a slow, patient, hands-on process that usually takes three to six weeks...per persimmon. Each persimmon is hand-peeled, strung onto a rack, and massaged every 3 to 5 days for several weeks. Weather conditions are watched carefully. The result is a transformation into a sugary delicacy that is tender and moist with concentrated persimmon flavor.

Harvest season begins in October and the process is completed by January. "

After the fruit is picked, each persimmon is peeled and a string is tied around the stem.  It is then tied to another persimmon and hung on a rack to begin the drying process.  During the drying period, the fruit is massaged to bring out the sweetness."

This photo shows the final product.  It looks moldy, doesn't it.  It isn't mold; it's sugar.  My question was, "What do you do with it?"  The young man said that it can be cut up and put in salads much like dried cranberries or other dried fruits.  One of the ladies at the farm gave us a sample of the confection.  It was very good.

The thing that impressed me most about this orchard and its owners is that they give regularly to the local food bank.  Angela, the lady who was talking to us, said that they don't give seconds, they give the best that they have.  They truly are giving of the firstfruits of their labor.  Angela also told us that they make sure some of the fruit is soft, so that those who come for food and have few teeth or none at all can enjoy the fruit.
I thought of my giving.  Do I give my best, my firstfruits?  Proverbs 3:9 tells us to honor the Lord with our wealth, with the firstfruits of all our crops.  The Message puts it like this: Honor God with everything you own; give him the first and the best.                                                                                                                  
  I believe the folks at the Otow Orchard are truly doing that, and they are blessed.  I'm so glad I was able to visit their farm and see their faith and good works in action.

Pumpkins, Pomegranates, and Persimmons

Having finally accumulated enough air miles, I flew to California last week for a visit with my "axe-murder" friends, friends I met a few years ago through blogging.  When I first went to California to meet them, I had some friends here in Florida who wondered about my sanity.  It all turned out for the good.  We have become the best of friends.

Three years ago, when I first met  them, they showed me San Francisco and Lake Tahoe.  It was a wonderful week of seeing things I had only read about or seen pictures of.  This time the trip was much more low key.  When my friends moved to the Sacramento area, they bought a home that had several fruit trees in the back yard, one of which was a pomegranate tree.  The only other time I had seen such a tree was in my grandpa's back yard in north Florida.  I remember eating the fruit and liking it very much.  I came home with some of them in my suitcase.

On Sunday afternoon we visited the Otow Orchard, where we saw lots of persimmon trees.  Again, I knew of persimmons, mainly my mother having said that if you ate one before it was ripe, it would make your mouth pucker.  I remember one time being in line at the grocery store, and someone had one with his groceries.  He must not have known what it was, and the cashier didn't know either.  They asked me if I knew what it was, and I said I think it is a persimmon.  The cashier looked up the code for it, and it went through, so I guess I was right.  I will write more about this orchard in another blog post, because there is so much to tell about these fine folks.  Be sure to click the link and read about their farm.

And what would a fall day be without pumpkins.  On the day before I left we visited Apple Hill, an area with many apple orchards...lots to write about there too.  Being fall, there were pumpkins, and that is where I will leave you today.