|
Mamie Lucille Adams 
June 19, 1998 - April 21, 2005
To all who love Mamie, whether you had the joy of meeting her or not:
We thank you so much for your kindness to her and us.
Your support during her fight in this life and after her entry into Heaven has been more than wonderful.
Thanks for the prayers, messages on the guestbook below, flowers, food, cards, gifts, and charitable donations in her honor.
We were blessed by each of you that were able to attend her visitation, funeral, or graveside service.
See the October 14, 2007, journal entry for her story and July 4, 2008, for a recap of her relatives that are frequently mentioned. Also, please consider leaving a message in her guestbook - we still need encouragement.
-- NEWS FLASH --
*** SINGING CHRISTMAS TREE TICKETS CAN NOW BE ORDERED ***
Performances this year are Sunday afternoon, December 7 at 4:00 and Sunday through Tuesday evenings (December 7-9) at 7:00.
Place is First Baptist Church in Arab.
Tickets are free, but you need them to get in, especially for the Sunday matinee which is always "sold" out long before the perfomance.
Journal
Saturday, November 29, 2008 11:31 PM CST Hear, O LORD, and have mercy upon me: LORD, be thou my helper. Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness; To the end that my glory may sing praise to thee, and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever.
Psalms 30:10-12
Thanksgiving Day 2008 is over. The season of thanksgiving continues.
I almost didn't make my traditional Thanksgiving pumpkin pie this year. Last Christmas I picked up a store-bought pie and it was as good as what I make. Now mine are not fancy, but they taste like the ones Grandma made, and I like them. I'm not sure I make them exactly the way she did - I use the recipe on the back of the canned pumpkin label, but with half again as much ground cloves (or crushed-between-two-spoons cloves, depending on what I find in the cabinet) and a sprinkling of nutmeg and allspice.
Why wreck the kitchen if I can get a good pie already fixed? As Tevye would say, "Tradition!" As a stranger in a strange land, I don't have too many traditions to hang onto. A funny thing about traditions is that if you skip them one year, they are at risk of ceasing to be traditions. So I made a mental addition of "pie stuff" to last week's shopping list.
At the end of one aisle there was a seven-foot-tower of pumpkin pie mix. No, thanks. I do the mixing myself. After two complete search patterns of the grocery side of the store and an otherwise satisfied list, I went back to the pie mix display. There I found one can of plain pumpkin. I don't know if it was the only one they had left or if someone had picked it up from the secret canned pumpkin shelf and then did a pack rat thing when they discovered the mix that they really wanted.
At any rate, that can was a large one - the two-pie size. So no question about pumpkin pie for Christmas. We'll have it and it will be baked Christmas Eve. (Someone remind me to set the batter out of the freezer ahead of time.)
In other Thanksgiving Day news, the squirrel hunt was tied for the fewest kills on record (roughly right about zero). Grandmother lamented that she couldn't understand why there are so many of the critters eating her pecans after raiding her garden all summer, but the hunters can't find them. I think the answer lies in the theory that the average squirrel is neither deaf nor blind.
Today was the most important day of the year for lots of folks around here. The in-state football rivalry between Alabama and Auburn is so hyped that even people who didn't attend either school are expected to take sides and be enthusiastic about it. It was probably twenty-three years ago when I turned in my rental car at the Huntsville Airport early Saturday morning. I figure that someone who makes a living renting cars at an airport knows that most of their customers don't live nearby. Nonetheless, the lady asked, "Who are you for?"
"Who am I for?"
"Who do you want to win the game today?"
"What game?"
"The Iron Bowl."
"Must be football. Give me a little more help."
"Alabama and..."
Wait a minute. There's someone at the door. Who could it be at this time of... Well, hang on. I'll be right back...
... OK, I'm back. It was Santa! He brought this year's Christmas poem. Give me a minute to load it on the computer.
In the meantime, if you want to review other years' poems, click on "journal history" then "view older journal entries" and do a "control+f" search on the words "before Christmas". (I know most people say the period should be inside the ending quotation mark, but if you include it in your search you won't find the poems. Yet another way the contemporary language has become less functional. Don't even get me started on abbreviating first and second as "one raised to the 'st' power" and "two raised to the 'nd' power" and so on. At least that one caught Dan Rather in one of his frauds.)
Here's the poem:
'Twas the time before Christmas when, all through the day,
The children were focused on things in the sleigh.
They'd made stacks of checklists of things in demand
And special requests most would not understand.
From workshop to motor pool all of the elves
Dragged boxes and bags quite as big as themselves.
Then loading eventually came to a stop
(The rest on the lists were not made in that shop.)
Some elf engineers re-inspected the sled,
For instrument readings pegged out in the red.
The crew chief told Santa that, if he approved,
The rig was OK and was safe to be moved.
He'd have to sign there and initial right here
To waive the weight limit (again one more year).
He signed and he sighed with a soft "Ho, ho, ho -
I've got to get thin so more presents can go."
The loadmaster elf was all dripping with sweat -
The pressure was great, but he'd never failed yet.
He filled out a North Pole Form Six-Seven-Two
("List of Items for Christmas that Elves Cannot Do").
Then told his elf runner, "Go find the Old Man
And give him this paper as fast as you can!"
That form got to Santa with near-record speed -
Saint Nick bit his lip, for he knew what he'd read:
"My uncle is frightened and lonely tonight.
Please bring a new day with no bad guys to fight."
"My friend needs new drugs, and she needs them real quick -
The old ones stopped working and she's really sick."
“Sweet dreams for my Mommy and Daddy tonight.
They’ve been so sad lately. It doesn’t seem right.”
He folded the paper and fought back a tear,
Then climbed in the sleigh and called out to the deer.
"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Rudolph and all!
We've got to look sharp and we've got to stand tall."
And soon to the children the sleigh did appear.
They started to giggle, then let out a cheer.
They swarmed all around and they handled the toys,
The games, books, and clothes for the good girls and boys.
At last they had finished inspecting the load,
And shouted to Santa, "It's great! Hit the road!"
He straightened his hat, brushed the snow off one boot,
Then turned and gave Jesus a snappy salute.
The team dashed away on a heading for Earth
While the children lit candles to mark Jesus’ birth.
And we heard Him exclaim as He blew them all out,
“I wish my world knew what this season’s about!”
Read Journal History
Links: http://www.stjude.org/waystohelp St. Jude
http://www.campsam.org Camp Smile-a-Mile
http://www.curingchildhoodcancer.org/aboutus.shtml Janie Sims Foundation
|
|
