Thursday, March 19, 2015

Repotting a Memory...My Last Month with Daddy...


The bamboo plant, the red planter and the two Chinese figurines were purchased the month I spent with Daddy in Kentucky. It was just the two of us, together for a month and I was worried and scared. Several years have passed. Daddy died and the bamboo plant has doubled in size. Today I repotted the plant and made a new garden out of it. Playing in the dirt made me remember Kentucky in the spring.

Daddy and I always had a love/hate relationship at best. In hindsight, I am thankful I was forced to spend that month with him. We needed to be alone...together. We needed to talk, we needed to listen to each other.  He told me his story, answering any questions I had. And I had a million questions. I doubt if I know the truth but I know more than I did. I can pick my parables.  What I learned helped to fill in some blanks.  It also left a lot of open ended stories. I listened to him and took notes so I could keep the story straight. He never asked me about my life and I didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. I should have told him how I felt. I needed to say those words aloud. I was too afraid and that was my mistake...my regret.

I learned that Daddy really didn't hate me. My existence just happened to be the one thing he could not control and it drove him nuts. My mother always picked my well being over him and he hated that fact. Thank God she did.  I only lived with Daddy for nine years.  If I had been raised by him I would be in a mental institution or a grave. He was not a 'kid friendly' man in the long run.  I don't think he ever wanted children.  Children are needy and that was one thing he could not handle.

When I went to Kentucky with Melodi, it was for the weekend. I packed just enough for two days and that was it.  Normally, when I went home I packed enough for a month. However, Mama was dead and I knew I would not stay beyond Sunday. Once again I was so wrong. Daddy was waiting for a room in ICF and it was not ready yet. He needed me to stay with him for a few days. The days turned into a month.

I had to buy clothes, medicine, books, a new journal, pens and I needed something live to take care of...other than Daddy. So I bought the bamboo plant.  I can hear him now as I came home with the plant and all its contraptions, "Daughter, what the Hell did you buy that for?" He laughed as I began to assemble my project on the patio out back. We talked a lot while I was repotting the plant. He even gave me a few suggestions. It was warm so we kept the plant outside. I think he enjoyed it. We would sit outside every morning and drink coffee together, waiting for the sun to come up. He would fiddle with the plant and move it so it wouldn't 'sunburn' later in the day.

It was a good month. Daddy got saved and that was amazing.  I heard him pray for me to be 'happy' one night while I was up reading. I never thought I would hear those words...but I did and I treasure them.

I cooked all his favorite foods.  He told me I "cooked like my Mama".  We took long drives out in the country where he used to live.  He told story after story and I soaked them up much like water in the desert heat.  Everything changed and nothing changed between Daddy and me.  When he died, he died alone refusing to allow family to be with him. He was a strange man. A man of violence, lies, discontent, love and humor.  Everyone who knew him, had their own version of John O.  I doubt if anyone had the full story. I know something was broken inside him. I hope whatever was broken is fixed now. I hope he is at peace. I loved him with all my heart but I was so afraid of him...something is wrong when a daughter feels this way about her father...very, very wrong.  Some things just can not be fixed.


Monday, March 16, 2015

Once Again Spring is in the Air...



 Once again it is getting close to one of my favorite times of the year...Spring. The smell of the new season  has seeped in during the past two weeks. Winter has shed its heavy coat and cast it aside. We will probably have more cold weather, maybe some snow,  but right now it  looks and sounds like Spring. I enjoy all the noises this time of year. Spring leapers are vocal and horny as ever.  If they were as big as they sound we could send them to fight ISIS and not have a worry in the world. Those toads could get it done in a big way!  Unfortunately, they are tiny frogs with gigantic imaginations and a wicked song to go with it.  It is their mating time of  the year...let them sing as loud as they can.

I spotted a bumble bee last week. I was thrilled to see the bee. In Missouri bees are in a decline and we need these characters  to fertilize flowers and plants.

While raking my yard, I unearthed a few March flowers trying to push through the ground.  There are patches of grass turning green and of course weeds are the first to arrive and the last to leave. I tried to kill those suckers last year,  evidently I did not succeed.

The snow geese are traveling North.  Every day we see line after line of silver birds, miles high in the atmosphere, flying back home in the North.  I enjoy watching these birds change formations in the sky. First one group will lead, all the other geese will follow. In a few minutes a lone goose breaks out and takes over the lead. Part of the pack will follow the new leader. This goes on the entire trip. Zigzagging back and forth as they fly closer to their home.

Last night I witnessed something I don't think I have ever seen before. The birth of moths. They have a very short life span and we saw the beginning.  Tommy and I were sitting in the living room watching a movie.  We had a small lamp turned on by our window. Around 9 p.m. something caught my eye.  Little moths newly hatched  were covering my outside window.  I watched as more joined the scene. They were attracted to the only light around.  It was a little bit on the magical side. The next morning as I drank my first cup of coffee, I watched as goldfinches ate the little moths. Nature has its own sense of need and at times a very strange sense of humor.

With each new season, I get energized and ready to change the world. Winter kept me busy as I waited, plotted and planned new gardens and outside decorations. I spent hours searching for the right color of paint, the right flowers and saved every pallet that came my way to create or add to my flower gardens. I am ready to plant the vegetable garden and all that goes with it. However, in the back of my mind I hear my grandmother's voice saying, "Slow down, don't get in such a rush. Easter hasn't passed and Blackberry winter doesn't arrive until May. You will probably have another snow that will not last long but could kill any petunias you plant now. Take your time and enjoy where you are in life. Don't always be in a rush.  Everything will fall into place when it is time."  As always...Mamamae is right.

What Can We Do With a Sixty Foot Tree???



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Last Fall, Tommy, Jody and I cut down the last tree in our front yard. The hard maple was a fixture in someone's yard for at least sixty years...long before we bought our home this tree existed. 

Unfortunately, the tree began to lean heavily toward our home. It was only a matter of time before a  Missouri wind storm or tornado came through our area, roaring with a vengeance, causing the tree to land on our home, destroying it in the process. Her sister tree had to be removed several years earlier. I don't remember the other tree causing as much hard work as this tree has created for Tommy and me. Evidently, ten years or more makes a big difference in tree cutting and removing at the Carter house.

We laughed when we saw the mess in our front yard, made jokes about how we would not be bored this winter. We had hard work to last us until Spring.  On any given day we could walk out our back door and stroll through a downed forest, complete with birds, squirrels and eventually rabbits.  At first we worked fairly steady on the tree with intentions of having the sucker trimmed, cut, chopped and stacked by Christmas.  In reality we had the tree trimmed...almost by Christmas.  There were dozens of two to three foot round blocks of wood cut, laying all over the front yard.  Very little splitting was done for the next few months. A tree has to be "worked up" to remove it from the area where it fell.  The weather was getting nasty, cold with the occasional snow. I could think of forty million reasons to not go outside and work on that mammoth in the front yard. After all, it wasn't going anywhere.

 We did manage to burn several loads of tree toppings; branches too green to burn in the wood stove and too small  for kindling.  The trailer we hauled our toppings on was soon bogged down in the mud and mire.  We waited for the ground to freeze before we could remove the trailer. Finally, the trailer and tree were reconnected.  They spent the winter together in our front yard. Over the course of winter,  the trailer slowly slipped deeper and deeper into the ground. Once again, finding itself stuck.


Tommy and I built the trailer about seven, if not more, years ago.  We were having Jacy and Melodi's birthday party on October 30th at our home.  We needed a trailer for a hayride. We worked on that trailer all week. It was worth it. We had a fun night with a bonfire, cookout and hayride. No one fell off the straw bales as we drove up and down and around
 Atterberry Hill. Sometime this Spring, the cart needs new lumber and another coat of paint.
 


                                                        
By the side of our house is another load of split wood about this size. We could not come up with a plan during the winter on where to put all of this wood. The main focus was to make sure we only had to move the wood once.  Stacking wood is hard work. The fewer times the wood has to be touched the better I like it. The only trouble was in the middle of winter we had no where to store the split wood...now we do!  We have a huge concrete laundry room made so we can store our winter wood in there. It is empty and as soon as our backs loosen up, we will begin filling that room with next winters wood. Hopefully, in another month the front yard will be cleaned up, the flower beds will be blooming, the hummingbirds will have returned and we can start painting our house for the last time!  Hmmmm...
 

Monday, March 9, 2015

I Think They are Snake Eggs....

I hate snakes!!  I hate them just as much when they are dead as I do when they are alive.  If I never, ever saw another snake I would be delighted!! However, we live in the country.  There is no way this will ever happen.

This is the reason Tommy and I are having a small nonviolent disagreement over the photo on the left. Yesterday we dumped a huge flower pot made out of a hollowed out piece of wood close to the size of Texas.  I loved that flower pot. For the past four years it has been the home for petunias, geraniums, ferns, and spiked grass.  It sat in the front yard by the swing. I liked the old fashioned look so much,  each year I added another chunk of hollowed out wood to my flower beds in the front yard. They finally began to visibly rot. While we were working in the wood this weekend we dumped the pots and discarded the rotten wood. As I was moving the dirt to new places I turned over the damp earthy smelling soil and out rolled close to a dozen soft broken eggs.  I asked Tommy to come look at these eggs.  It went downhill from there.

I looked at him and said, "They are SNAKE eggs aren't they???"  Tommy looked at me, knowing how scared I am of snakes and LIED!!"

He said, "No those are lizard eggs. You know those little lizards we have here in the summer".  I looked at him.  He kept starring at me. I knew he was lying his wazoo off.

"Tommy, if those are lizard eggs, that lizard would need to be the size of a chicken!!  Those eggs resemble small chicken eggs.  It could not have been laid by a little lizard!"

Still refusing to validate my reasoning, Tommy said and I quote, "Alright they are chicken eggs!!"  That is when I slugged his arm. I told him, "I can Google these eggs and find out exactly what they are."  He was in the process of raking the soft broken eggs into a pile.  I ran to get a WalMart bag.  Later we dumped the eggs in the garbage can to be hauled away to the big trash pile in the sky on Wednesday. 

It gives me the creeps to think a snake crawled in and out of my flower pots.  Pots I took care of daily. Pots I sat near in the late afternoon while I drank coffee and read a book. I shudder to think of this scene. Tommy seems to think this is funny. Not me. I hope they all froze to death this winter. I hope all twelve of those suckers are long gone...long gone.

Hmmmm... chickens my arse!!












Saturday, March 7, 2015

Hobby Number Twenty Something...Creating Dolls...

I can not remember a time when I did not enjoy creating something from nothing. As a little girl, colored ribbon, or a scrap of material became the idea for a Barbie ball gown.  Small pieces of lace turned into a bridal veil for my imaginary bride. Since I was raised on the movie "Gone With the Wind", the wide sweeping gowns from that era,  held a special place in my imagination. They were lush and flowing yards of material, memories and magic.  As I grew older, the compulsion to create images and stories I saw in my mind's eye, carried over into my adult life; words and pictures were reproduced in dolls and stories.

While wandering through the isles of Hobby Lobby one day, I discovered rolls of colored paper ribbon. Immediately my mind began to fantasize about Southern Belle dolls. I collected a roll of every color of the paper ribbon and threw them in my shopping cart...suddenly I was on a mission !! I had a new project to try and create. I could already see the regal ladies in my minds eye as I began to shop for and found packages of doll hair in every shade imaginable. I turned down the next isle, spying small crocheted hats with wide brims just begging to be turned into exotic hats. I collected packages of plumes, lace, beads, and flowers. I purchased a hot glue gun, a tape measure (because I knew I could not find the three I already had at home).  Into the cart I tossed scissors, a sketch book and a pen...always a new pen and a blank page.

On the way home my mind was fixated on my next new hobby. I drove home on autopilot. I hate it when I do that. I receive some of my best ideas while driving. Unfortunately, I never remember the trip home. I come out of the daze when I turn the keys off. That is a little on the scary side but it is true.

I patterned the dolls after a Barbie body. They were 11 inches tall, small waist, big boobs however, my dolls had no actual faces or bodies. I saw in each doll a face, a personality and a story. If anyone asked I was more than ready to tell what I saw in the folds of the dolls face, the tip of her hat or even the boas a few of them wore.  Usually, it would come up in our conversations, soon the customer saw what I saw.  I liked that, when this happened it was a good sale.

                                         


 Soon  I was having as much fun creating the dolls as I did selling them.  I made seasonal dolls for every holiday.  Also for weddings, anniversaries,  baby showers... just about anything.  My favorite were the craft fairs. All those talented, creative people in one room; I always spent more than I made on other artists crafts.  Then friends began to order dolls made to their specifications. I enjoyed making those.


                           


Soon I was making angels, little boys and girls, and  a few wooden dolls. I sold whatever I made;  that was a good feeling.  Once again, it does not take much to make me happy. I made dolls out of Raffia paper also. The photos I have are of the first dolls I made. They became more detailed as I worked. I wish I had photographed more however, at the time I did not think of it.
                          


 
I think this doll was 'quilting'. There is a tape measure thrown across her shoulder.  I also made nurse dolls, and nuns. Name a profession and I probably made a doll somewhere along that line.

                                       

                                      
                                                   
 
The first angel is swinging a smaller angel around. I made many variations of angels. I also made Hispanic and Black dolls. I ended up painting the faces in skin tones. Still no visible faces but they were there just the same.
 


I made dolls for about three years. I don't have any left. I wish I had kept a few because I would like to have given one to Jacy. I am not sure I have enough ribbon to make another doll. I still have a box in my art room for doll making, think I will check out what is hiding in there. As far as I know, the paper ribbon I used to make the dolls has been discontinued.

About three months after I quit making dolls,  I picked up a book (once again at Hobby Lobby)  and saw all the things I could make with gourds...You should have seen my next garden...filled with gourds!!

Now I have discovered 'pallets'. I have so many ideas for summer projects. I am waiting on the weather to improve so I can get started. The imagination is a wonderful place to live.
 
 
 


Right now, I am knee deep in potting my plants and making 'memory gardens'. I worked on a  couple this morning and have about a million ideas for more. Creating is a never ending lifestyle with me...just the way I like it and I hope it always will be.
 

 

 
 
 


 
 

About That Tire in the Front Yard...



See that old tire in the front yard?  That  'thing' has been an eyesore to me for years.  It came with the house. It was securely placed in the ground fifteen years earlier, during a time when decorations like that were popular, and every front yard had a huge tractor tire for a flower bed.  By the time we bought the house, I decided I wanted the tire removed, it was a lost cause.  The tire had become attached to the surrounding ground. It was happy where it sat and had no intention of being moved anywhere.  I know this to be a fact because I tried everything I could to drag that tire out of the yard for years.

First I tried to dig it up.  I spent at least two weeks on this project before I caved. The first summer I ended up painting the tire white and planting red, white and purple petunias in it. The next summer I attached it to a riding mower and tried to drag it out. It wouldn't budge,  the rope broke flew back and slapped me up beside my head.  I repainted the tire and added a flag pole... more petunias and a few mums for the fall. The tire was starting to grow on me. I almost liked it. 


I tried to burn it out...that was a total failure... not to mention it was and is illegal to burn tires.  Tommy was quick to bring that to my attention.  So I was back to square one. I decided, somewhat reluctantly, to learn to live with this tire. I found my sketch pad and tried to come up with a plan.  I would enlarge the area around the tire.  Paint the tire yellow, add ferns, hostas, day lilies, and throw in a bird feeder for good luck. It began to look different.  I could live with this creation.  Like the house it has had many faces, I think it became prettier with each passing year...so did the house...at least to us.

Eventually, I started enjoying the chance to play in the dirt each Spring.  The old tire has at one time or another been a fairy garden, hosted a red frog band assembled and placed among the flowers and anything else that caught my eye.  I have had a good time playing with something years ago I called  my nemesis.

                                         


Over the years the trees grew tall and provided shade for many an afternoon when we would go outside, sit in the swing, drink coffee or ice tea and wait for the first star of the evening to appear. That appearance meant the first person to see the star could make a wish. Some wishes came true, others did not and some I am still waiting on to arrive.  It has been fun playing with nature.
 
 Now I have a new project to work on this summer. We have no trees left for shade but we have a patio cover for a new swing set I have yet to buy. The flowers need an update and I have three military statues that should arrive any day. It will be a whole new look and theme for the yard. I can't wait to get started. In my minds eye I already see that garden and it is lovely.














                                 



Friday, March 6, 2015

We Bought a House...We Built a Home


 This is the only photo I can find of our original house. It is also the only photo where it is completely painted the same color.  We bought this fixer upper in late October, 1978.  We have been in the process of 'fixing her up' for the past 37 years.  Personally, I do not think we will ever be done with the 'fixing up process'. Our home has become our hobby.

When Tommy and I die, I have no clue what the girls will do with this place. I doubt if anyone except Tommy and me could or would live here. I don't think the house would want anyone else to move in here...neither the house nor the people would be happy. This house and the Carter's have a history together. We built each other. We grew up and old together.  It has been a long on going process.

The house was fifteen years old when we bought her; a mere teenager with an itch to grow up.  She sat on six acres of land; she had a pond, a stable for horses and no existing neighbors.  The house was too small from the beginning. That fact was fine with us.  We had all sorts of ideas concerning how we were going to remake this home. We began our construction the following year. 

The first thing we had to do was enlarge the living room. We had all winter to make plans for this. In February of 1979 we found out we were pregnant.  We had two bedrooms for four existing people and soon a new person was moving in...so we knew sooner  or later we would have to build a third bedroom. Our main plan was to do all the construction ourselves. We had great friends and they were more than willing to help create our home. We all helped each other for years.

Bill and Joann Richardson gave us a huge, almost new, wood stove. Bill even helped us remove the porch and extend the living room out ten feet. That made our living room 16x16. We built a chimney for the wood stove and placed the 'picture window' back in the north facing wall. During that project we learned how to work with cement, lay concrete blocks and add a floor to an existing structure.  It was a first for both of us. It was almost level...it is still 'almost level'!  No one but us and now you could tell the difference.  It is just a 'tad' bit off.  It suits us fine.

I knew absolutely nothing about building anything.  My building skills were on the job training coupled with an active imagination.  I was in charge of making sure everything was level. That was an adventure in the making.  I didn't know I needed glasses. I soon found out the hard way that I could not see 100% accurately up close.  When Tommy yelled that he wanted the 'bubble in the center of the level'...he was serious about that 'center' part. My bubble tended to move around from time to time. If the phrase 'half a bubble off' had not already been coined...we would have made it up!!   Our house may not be 100% plumb but there is a great story to go with every half inch that is a tad off!



Several years later we decided to square up our home by knocking the kitchen walls out and replacing the carport with a den and a laundry room.  That gave us plenty of space for our growing family and friends. During that time frame, I had to have emergency gall bladder surgery. When I was admitted to the hospital, I told the doctor I couldn't stay long because it was 'supposed to rain and the whole front of the house was open.'  The doctor laughed and told me to get ready because I was having surgery the next day. Tommy filled the space with black visqueen plastic.  AND it did rain for two days. I was miserable!!

                               
 
 

This is how it looked while it rained. I was out of commission for a few weeks so I tried to stay out of everyone's way.  It was a huge cluster smuck. We couldn't find anything. At one point we lost our phone...literally! This was twenty years before cell phones were invented.  Soon everything was filled in and the new rooms were usable.  That is about the time the bathroom and septic tank had to be replaced...again.  We hired someone to replace the septic tank while Tommy and I replaced our bathroom for the second time. We completed that job in a weekend. I hope we never, ever have to do it again.

Tommy wanted a garage for the car, his truck and a place to put all his 'stuff'.  We built a 30x30 garage. The hardest work I have ever done was help lay the concrete floor.  A truck delivered it and we spread it. Rich McClure and his sons helped. Never have I ever worked as hard as I did that day.  My hat is off to anyone who does that work daily. My back went out a couple of days later.
 
                  
                                  
 Tommy and I both worked the 11-7 shift while  most of our construction was being done. We would work each day until around 3 or 4 p.m. People were in and out on the days they could work.  When the guys were putting the roof on, I had already gone to bed. It was Tommy's day off and  I had worked a double that day so I  came home and went to bed.  Tommy told me when I woke up the roof would be on the garage.  I woke up early and peeked out the window and the above photo is what I saw. I knew this was so wrong from so many angles!  I remember I took two Aleve and went back to bed hoping everything would look different when I got up the next time...and it did.                            




                                    Somewhere in the late 90's we built a huge bedroom on the end of the house for Tommy and me. It was 16x26 feet. We had our bedroom and a den for us. We added sliding glass doors to open onto a patio. We continued to work nights and this was our space. It was the bedroom we always wanted...sort of.  After this room was completed we were done building or so we thought.

 About this time all three girls moved back home... at one time...and for various reasons. We put a petition up in our bedroom for Tami to have a room. When the girls all moved out we changed things around and one of them lost a bedroom. Since Tami was the last to move back home, she had to share our bedroom.  We put a wall and door up for her. None of us saw each other. Tami and Lisa worked 3-11 and I think Melodi worked days and Tommy and I worked 11-7.  Soon the girls once again moved out; leaving us with a wall and a door I did not want. Tommy liked the idea.  Our dream bedroom was turned into a hunting room ... and things have never been the same!! To say it is a scary place to walk through is on the polite side. It is still a work in progress. Tarps, tents, deer sheds, guns, knives, and every piece of hunting clothing Tommy has ever purchased is somewhere in this room. I shut my eyes and go to bed . It all seemed like a good idea at  the time...and it was.  We just need to finish the room.  It has been 25 years and it still isn't done.  Which leaves me to believe this is the way it will remain.

Tommy and I enclosed our patio for me two years ago. I love it. It has become my favorite room in the house. It is where I write, daydream and paint. It is filled with all kinds of things I love.

                                   
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We have added all the additions we need to our home. I really think we are through building...not creating but building.  The house will be painted for the last time...all over, one color. Light yellow with green shutters to match the roof and flower boxes under each window.  The flower beds need to be redone and I want a container garden instead of our usual garden. We tossed around  the idea of raising chickens but I think it might cost more to raise chickens than buy eggs and meat. This is debatable...still.
 
Our home will always be a work in progress.  Both of us are beyond the building process.  Now we are down to 'fine tuning' our 37 year old 'project'.  Not a day goes buy that one of us doesn't throw out a new plan... just in case !!!