Oak Trees

There was an oak tree here in the back yard when Mother started building this house.  Daddy said it was about 6 inches in diameter when he was doing some clearing and fence work for his Grandfather back in the 40s.  Grandpa Hamm told him to leave it for shade.  It was in the middle of a fence line then. 

It grew to a monstrous size over the years, but developed a hollow all through the main trunk.  Hurricane Rita shredded every leaf and she was never the same after.  Finally, she was bare and dying.  Rock had a fellow with a big enough chainsaw come cut her down.  Laying on her side she was seven or eight feet in diameter where the branches started. 

There were many fish fries and barbecues under that old tree.  There was a swing that soothed me through many an anxious childhood trial.  The photo with this letter shows three of the four daughters left behind by her.  The cows enjoy the shade and acorns now.  There is one nearest the house he is planning to move the fence behind so we will have a shade tree in the back yard to gather around again. 

There is one memory that has come to the front for me lately.  Our central air conditioner has had a couple of problems this summer.  Made me think of how we used to live.  We had a window unit in the living room and one in Mother’s bedroom.  We have an attic fan that still works.  The window unit is mounted in the wall in the living room since Mother added on to the house in ’86. We added the central air when we moved in here in ’04.  I’m not even sure if the window unit still works. 

Nevertheless, my memory turned back to the summer of ’77.  At least, I think it was that summer. Might have been the one before or one after.  Mother wanted to redo the kitchen.  She wanted to rearrange the cabinets and hired a carpenter to come in and do it.  What to do for cooking while the kitchen was out of commission? 

In those days, eating out was a very rare occasion.  We usually only ate out when we went to see Daddy when he came in port or on one of the rare shopping trips to Beaumont.  Luby’s and later, Piccadilly cafeterias were Mother’s favorites.  The Monterey House or The Schooner were also occasional choices.  Locally, there was a Dairy Queen and a Pizza Hut.  There was a place in Spurger that made great hamburgers.  That was it. Convenience foods found in the freezer were Banquet TV dinners and frozen pizzas.  If there were microwaves then, only rich people had them.  Folks bought groceries and grew gardens and cooked from scratch in this part of the woods. 

What about not having a kitchen to do all that?  Mother set up a screen house and a canopy right under that old oak tree.  She set up a long folding table and a card table and the lawn chairs and what have you.  A cook stove and the water hose and the refrigerator moved out of the way in the dining area next to the kitchen along with the deep freezer and she never missed a beat.  We stayed out there all the time it seems.  Of course, I was a kid and that was a long time ago.  My brother could probably fill in more details and we have a couple of friends who were always there.  He is gone now, but she could provide some details, too, no doubt. 

Growing up, we lived closer to nature than we do now.  The windows were open unless it was blowing rain or too cold.  The attic fan drew in the air. Sometimes it was hot air, but moving over perspiring skin was cooling.   Even in winter, we slept without heat.  The propane heater was lit each morning. I don’t know of a time it was left on during the night.  We all had electric blankets. That helped a lot.  There are many days in winter no heat is even needed.  The days are mild and pleasant.  The windows would have been open back then.

If it was just me, I would run the central air and heat less often.  I would get rid of all the carpet in the back half of the house and situate more of the furniture away from the windows. Except the beds.  The beds are best left in front of the windows to catch the draft from the attic fan pulling the cool night air through the house.  The night sounds are soothing to the soul and the gentle light from the moon is magical. 

One fall he and I turned the central unit off and lived with the attic fan until it was too cold to have the windows open.  I have clear memories of lying there next to him in the moonlight with the draft passing over us.  There was something magical about those quiet moments with him I pray remember when the days of my life are closing. 

There are so many treasures in my memory of our loving each other these many years.  I continue to work toward creating more treasured memories with him all the time.  What would I have done without him always being my champion and hero?  His courage and stubborn will have saved us more times from more enemies than I can ever enumerate.  But He keeps track and rewards him with His mercy and grace.  His faith in our Lord is an anchor I hold on to through the rough times.  I am grateful beyond words for him.

I have drifted all over the place with my thoughts here.  But, isn’t that the way of memories?  They come trickling in and then they flood through the mind and heart washing us along in the current.  I’ll keep seeking the ones in the past to relate to the little ones and keep creating ones in the present to cherish as time passes. 

A Long Week

This has felt like a long week. I’m very glad for the upcoming three-day weekend and four-day work week to follow.

We have been working on the yard. He and our son cut a large oak down in the front yard several weeks ago.  It was way too close to the house.  It was a risk during storms.  The roots and overhanging limbs were too near the foundation and roof.  We have the debris almost cleaned up from that.

I am developing some more flower beds. I have a spiky yucca at the front of the house.  I decided I don’t like it being reachable by tiny fingers, so I am expanding the bed around it.  I have plenty of things to fill up a large area.  Elephant ears, day lilies, cannas, sago palms.  Although, this plan is subject to change.

There is a large mound of purple jew providing starts along the front of the house. I am trying to decide if I want to run it all the way across the front or stop at the front door where it is now.

He has set up a deck out back. It needs some more work.  I am already enjoying it, though.  I have supplies to transform a table and chairs to use outside under the carport.  I want the barbecue pit easier to use and a spot to camp when I am tending the groceries on the fire.

I love being outside. When we lived at Campers Cove, I set up a space with a glider, throws, pillows, a table.  I surrounded the area with pots of tropical plants.  It was situated so I could leave things out all day and go back and forth to my work and my rest.

The porch here is enclosed with windows. I love having it.  I spend most of my free time out here.  But, there is something about feeling the outdoors that has a healing effect on my soul.

The digging in the dirt I have been doing is also working its magic. Whether pulling weeds, relocating a plant, watering and feeding things, raking and burning, all are helpful.

I made a comment to a co-worker about my future retirement. I indicated certain things would change for me because I would have a different lifestyle.  It would be more like the way I lived before I joined the 9-5 throng.  I decided I don’t want to wait until later to have my chosen lifestyle.  I will do as much as I can in the time I have to create the life I dream about.

He has been helping me get things done I am physically unable to do. I am a middle-aged, fluffy female. My muscle strength is limited.  I have no idea how to make a tractor or chain saw work even if I were strong enough.  Thankfully, he has been spending time out with me doing those sorts of things.

No, I won’t be able to do everything right now. I can do a great deal, though.  So, I have started digging in the dirt with earnest. I have made up my mind to tackle big projects I have been putting off due to lack of time and energy.  At least that was my excuse. I will make the time and the energy will come.

I have made myself let down some barriers and visited face to face with some people. I have stepped out of my comfortable cocoon and connected personally with others. I still have a ways to go with this one.

I read a book that explained human energy. Barring physical illness, human energy is largely emotional.  It certainly is for me.  If I am tired after a long day or long week and he mentions something I really love doing or someplace I love to go, suddenly I have a surge of energy to get going.  If it is someplace or something I would rather not engage, I have even less energy and more fatigue.

I know if I get moving and keep moving, I will get to my goal. My destination, whatever it may be.  Or at least I will travel on the path toward it.  The journey is the thing.  To keep traveling the journey path.  Whatever it is and wherever it goes.

I believe if I keep following not my fickle heart, but the Spirit leading me, I will have contentment and satisfaction when I lay my head on my pillow to sleep. I listen to my gut feeling, my intuition.  That is where I find His answers for me.  I have known Him so long, I recognize His instructions.  A gentle peace or a hard conviction.  Or just a knowing something is right.  I don’t always heed, but He takes care of that, too.

Just a chair in the shade, a glass of iced tea, a flower or two around. Birds, frogs and bugs serenading me.  Pondering whether to move that plant over there or over here.  Plucking a ripe cucumber and a few squash to take in for supper.  Getting my heart ready to love him when he comes in the door.  Pretty good journey path if you ask me.