Thursday, October 11, 2018

A Pine Torch Tale



When I see an old kerosene lantern it brings back lots of memories and takes me back to a place when folks didn’t know what a flashlight was or ever heard of one.
Times were so much different back then that most people wouldn’t even recognize some of the ways people did to get by. Everybody used a pine torch or a kerosene lantern. We never had but one lantern that I recall. Daddy kept it hanging on the wall of the old smokehouse. He used it back in his Fox Hunting Days. It seemed the pine torch became more and more popular for lack of kerosene I suppose.

I remember many a night walking beside my daddy, mama or grandma by the light of a pine torch. Daddy always kept plenty of pine in the wood box to start fires in the cook stove or heater. He’d go upon the hill with his axe and find a big black pine and come back with a bucket full. He had a certain wood box he kept the pine in.
My grandma was the world’s worst to grab a piece out of the wood box and light it up when she needed to go somewhere after dark. We called her little ma cause she was skinny as a rail. We called our other grandma big ma cause she had more meat on her bones.

My little ma lived with us till she died. She was a Christian woman and really believed in the power of prayer. She could pray some of the most humbling, heartfelt prayers that I’ve ever heard. I know cause when something got to bothering her she’d go up on the mountain above where we built our playhouses to pray and I either followed or listened in. I remember her lifting up many prayers for her two sons.

My daddy and my uncle did worry her quite a bit, especially when they both decided to take a little nip or maybe several when the mood hit em. Now don’t get me wrong, they were good, hard working men and believed in keeping their families fed and looked after but they had their short comings just like everybody else. But when they both quit, they quit fast as they started.

When dark thirty came and they weren’t home little ma would start walking the floors and asking mama, “ye reckon where them boys are.” Mama would say, “don’t fret so they’ll be in after while.” They both knew why they were out late, but just didn’t know the where. After a while little ma would grab a stick of pine from the wood box and tell mama, “let’s go see if we can find em, they may have drowned in that there creek.”
There wasn’t but four of us six young’uns by that time, me being the oldest. The others hadn’t come along yet. Little ma would walk out in the yard and light up that pine torch and mama would put the baby on her hip and here we’d all go out that dark road towards the creek.

There was always a little foot log we walked across to get to the other side of the creek. Little ma always worried that someone would set em out and they’d get drowned in the creek trying to crawl on all fours. The creek wasn’t deep at all and flowed down kinda like a wide branch of water.

One night in particular stands out in my memory, more so. We were all walking out that little road and us young’uns were hanging on to mama and little ma’s legs like always when we heard something that gave us quite a scare. Little ma and mama heard it first and told us to be quiet a minute. We all listened close and heard it again. By that time we were really hanging to mama and little ma’s legs. Mama said, “here take this baby ma and I’ll go in front.” Ma still had the pine torch and she handed it to mama and we followed behind. The strange noise continued the closer we got to the creek. Us young’uns were absolutely scared to death but mama assured us it’d be alright cause she knew what it was. She said, “uns hush young’uns, it’s just your daddy and uncle.”

When we walked down the little hill and closer to the creek there they were. Daddy was on all fours trying to crawl across the foot log and our uncle was in the middle of that creek trying to crawl across it. They both were hollering, “Help us mommy, come get us”.
While little ma was Thanking God that her boys were safe, mama spoke up and said, “here take this pine torch, I’m gonna break em once and for all.” Mama reached up and broke a big limb off the bank of the road. She left the leaves on it and didn’t take the time to strip em off like she did lots of times with us. She walked up to that foot log and started on daddy first. She whupped him with that limb till he managed to get up on his feet and she made him walk off of that foot log and told him he’d better get towards that house or else. He was hollering, “Oh, Oh, Stop You’re Gonna Kill Me.” Then when she seen him staggering on towards home she walked straight into that little creek and done the same to my uncle. She kept whupping him with that limb till he was crying and hollering, “Stop Her Mommy She’s Gonna Kill Me.” Little ma started in the water with the baby on her hip but mama pointed at her and told her to stay right where she was and to hold that pine torch up a little higher.

When my uncle seen his mama wasn’t gonna help him any and he’d had enough of that bushy limb he straightened up and walked outta that creek and staggered on towards the house. As mama was takin the baby outta little ma’s arms, little ma said, “you shouldn’t have done that, you just about killed em.” Mama said “If I’d wanted em dead they wouldn’t be up walkin right now and I’m sick and tired of them two birds worryin ye to death all the time and if this doesn’t do the trick I’ll give em some more of their medicine till I break em from this stuff.” Mama knew it couldn’t have hurt em to bad cause she didn’t strip the leaves off the limb. She just whupped em good with it.

Little ma didn’t say anymore and we all walked back to the house by the light of the pine torch. Daddy and my uncle managed to stagger on in home without a pine torch cause when we walked in the door there laid my uncle on the couch and daddy had managed to make it to the bed.
Mama put us all to bed and then I heard her tell little ma, “ I hated to do what I did in front of ye and all these young’uns but I’m tired of seein ye worry yourself to death all the time.” Little ma didn’t say anything back, just went on to bed. The only thing I noticed different the next morning was a few scratches on their face, nose and arms and how nice they talked to mama. Sugar wouldn’t melt in their mouth.

I guess, after many nights of an old mother worrying about her boys out karousin and going to that little creek with a pine torch in her hand, it all came to an end that one night, when mama decided to sober em both up really fast. But little ma kept praying for her boys as long as she lived and anybody else that needed it and those pine torches continued to come in handy every step we made.

© Susie Swanson, 2018

Monday, October 1, 2018

My Story



I've posted so many stories and poems over the years on here from my childhood memories that I know you all are shocked to see anything else but I've felt compelled to write and post this for a while and try to explain something that I'd never thought in a million years I'd ever be writing about. This one is not my norm and it's taken a lot out of me to do it and hope you can bare with me and I thank you all in advance for reading it.

I've always heard about Addison's Disease being a Rare disease and very few people would ever have it. I've read about how famous people like President Kennedy had it and that's why he always had that darkness or orange colored skin color but in my experience with it and following so many group pages on Facebook I've come to find out it's more common than I thought.

Like other diseases Addison's can be quite complicated and hard to explain to someone that doesn't have it but I'd like to try to explain it as much as possible since I have become one of its victims.

Many that have followed me over the past several years knows how I've posted updates about my health issues and how hard it's been for me to do the things I once did and live the life I once knew. I've told you all about how I lost my Thyroid in 2014 due to another Auto Immune disease called Hashimoto's. You've followed my journey on how hard it's been to get optimal on any thyroid meds, and how many Endocrinoligists I've seen. The thyroid is a very important gland that keeps our body going and sends out signals to other glands in our body to produce the hormones they have to produce in order to keep every thing in sync. The thyroid is sometimes called the central gear to our body. Some people can have theirs removed due to other causes and live a some what normal life without it but others like myself that has to still deal with Hashimoto's and other auto immune diseases it becomes so hard to do. When this happens it can and does cause the other glands in our body to get out of sync and go down as well. And Hashimoto's being an auto immune disease stays with the body and when we get one auto immune disease they all like to jump in and stir the pot like Auto Immune related adrenal disease.

There's two little glands that sits on top of each kidney called the Adrenal Glands. These two glands produce eight hormones and are all vital to our bodies but one hormone is even more so important and that's called Cortisol which is our stress hormone. We make cortisol in our sleep at night and that gives us the full blown energy we need to get up in the mornings and feel refreshed and ready to take on the world . Around 3pm each evening our cortisol tends to wear down and by bedtime that's why we're tired and ready for bed. If we get in any stressful situation we have the cortisol as a bodily defense. I've read that 80% of people have some kind of adrenal gland insufficency and doesn't even know it till it's to late.

In an Addison Patient's body the adrenal glands have either stopped producing these hormones and any cortisol at all or producing very little and not enough to live on. Therefore the only treatment available is Steroids for life. Primary Addison's means the adrenal glands does not produce at all and Secondary Addison's is where they're still producing small amounts of cortisol but not enough. With either one the only treatment is steroids.

I was diagnosed with Secondary Addison's back in July of this year after a couple of very important tests were run. I knew my adrenal glands were down since I've been even more sick for the past couple of years. The only places I can go is to the doctors, labs, etc and I'm in a wheelchair then. I have a hard time taking care of my needs and therefore have a Home health Aid coming in four hours a day to help me with baths, etc. and help my husband with light housework chores. I now take steroids on a daily basis and like any other Addison's patient I have to find my own dose according to low cortisol symptoms. Some days I take more than others and still feel it's not enough. We can only go on our symptoms of low cortisol and we quickly learn those and how to dose. Mine is extreme weakness, jello type feeling in my arms and legs, anxiety, headaches, brain fog which means can't remember or focus, low or high BP and the list goes on and on.

Addison's patients are faced with many things and many questions. Every day or night we ask ourselves do I need to take more steroids, is my BP to low, is my sodium to low (due to salt cravings) is my potassium to low, why is my BP so high and should I go to the ER. With Addison's the electrolytes can get unbalanced or fall fast and we have to stay quite salty. By this I mean drink lots of salt water or take salt pills and we also have to eat potassium filled foods as well.

Addison Patients are usually given an emergency kit that consists of an emergency injection that contains 100mg of Hydrocortisone to inject themselves when they start to go into a crisis and are told to get to the ER fast as possible for more injections and a possible four to five day hospital stay with more Hydrocortisone IV's till the cortisol levels rises above the danger level. A crisis consists of nausea, diarrhea, vomiting, low blood pressure ( it can fall very fast), incoherent, slurring of words, etc. And if not immediate treatment is given with these emergency steroids the organs start shutting down including the brain and it can mean death.

A crisis can be brought on just by a tiny, bit of stress, sickness of any type, underlying issues like a sinus infection, UTI etc. Steroids tend to weaken the immune system more over time and it's hard for the body to fight off anything that comes along . I'll not even go into the many side effects that come with these steroids as some probably already knows that's taken them any length of time. I now wear a Medic Alert Bracelet that can tell emergency personel that I have Addison's and steroid dependent and to give emergency steroids if the occasion rises.

I now take one day at a time just like we all have to do and I put it in God's hands a long time ago. We've all got our own battles to fight and where would we be without him to help us. It's like a baby learning to walk, we can only take one step at a time. I try not to worry about tomorrow because we're not promised tomorrow and I can't afford to stress over things that's beyond my control. Stress is our enemy and to an Addison Patient it can be a killer.

My days are spent in the recliner and some days are worse than others that land me in the bed in a quiet, isolated place where it's dark. Because with Addison's light can make the eyes blurry or not be able to see at all. If I try and watch TV to long or stay on the computer I see blue lights in front of my eyes. That's a sign of low cortisol.

Yes, I miss the life I once knew and I look around at all the things I'd like to still do and it breaks my heart but I have to get used to the new norm. The one thing that hurts me the most is seeing the hurt in my husband's eyes and wanting to do more to make it go away for me. I told him a long time ago it wasn't fair to him but he's never once complained and been by my side through it all. He's never missed a doctor appointment with me and we've cried together, prayed together and come October we've been married 48 years. I tell him every day that he's my biggest Blessing and my best friend. God knows who to put in our lives. He sure has Blessed me in so many ways and I can never thank him enough for what he's done for me and given me.

I just wanted you all to know a little about me since I haven't posted an update lately and I know so many have been praying for me and I'm so grateful for each prayer. My writing has come to a halt for now. I can't focus long enough and get confused at times (brain fog) and forget what I'm trying to do or say. I assume most of you have already recognized some of the posts I've been sharing are older ones. I had planned on doing another book and have some that I wrote back when I was able of short stories and poems but that is not possible now nor will it be anytime soon. I've been trying to write this post for a long time and thought to my soul I'd never get it finished. But as most of you know so well I can get long winded and don't know when to stop.

This December my blog will celebrate it's 8th anniversary and I've enjoyed every minute of it and the many friends I've met on here and each one of you are very dear to my heart. I will continue to post as I'm able and try to keep up as much as possible because I miss your posts so much. Thank you all for your visits to my Blog and your sweet comments. If you don't hear from me from time to time you'll know the reason and God bless you all and thanks for your friendship and your prayers.

© Susie Swanson, 2018

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Old Timey Meetin's




I don’t reckon I’ve ever been in any better church meetings than when I was a young girl and we went to those spirit filled revivals and singings. The whole church house would rock from the preaching, shouting and singing. They were called meetins back then and everybody for miles around packed in those little churches and it was standing room only if one was lucky. A lot of the time most folks would just stand outside and listen.

I’ll never forget the night the Lord spoke to my heart. It was during one of those old, timey meetins that I hit that alter faster than a cat could lick. I was 13 years old and remember it as if it was yesterday. I got baptized in a little swimming hole called the Tadpole Hole.  In that moment in time my life surely changed and it gets sweeter by the day.

We had to walk to get to most of em but that didn’t sway anyone from going. Very few people owned a vehicle and there wasn’t many on the roads. 
I started out walking with my grandma when I was very young. There wasn’t any roads that were to long or wide for her to hoof it on. She was a shoutin woman for sure. She’d shout the hills out come Decoration Day and Dinner on the ground, and when we’d get in one of them kind of meetins she never stopped from the time she walked through the door, never knew when to hush. Mama and daddy went when they could but it was hard on em with a whole gang of kids to drag along.

After my grandma passed away things changed. More folks got a vehicle and were able to haul their families to church. My daddy loved a good old, timey spiritual singing better than anything. When he found out where one was gonna be, he’d always ask me if I wanted to go with him. Needless to say, me and daddy went to a lot of singings together.
He’d put on his Sunday go to meetin clothes which always consisted of his best pair of overalls, best shirt and his cap of course and his polished and shiny slippers.

 Daddy loved to run his mouth outside the church and knew everybody there and they knew him but when he entered the door and pulled his cap off he became a different man. I enjoyed those singings but I enjoyed watching daddy’s reactions too. He’d get in such a way and so caught up in that spiritual singing that it touched my heart so much and oh what joy just to see that smile come upon his face and watch him shake his leg , pat his foot or take his old cap and slap it against his legs. He really enjoyed it so much and had his own way of praising the Lord.

We’d go far and near in that old truck of his, didn’t matter what church or affiliation. He didn’t care how big the crowd was or how small, he made himself at home.
My grandma had her way and daddy had his way but I sure did enjoy going to those old timey, meetins and good, spiritual singings with daddy.


A lot of things have changed over the years but there’s still plenty of singings around and every time I go to one I think of daddy and can just see him there with that big smile, pattin his foot and slapping his cap against his legs. I know he’s there in spirit and enjoying it as much as me. I can only imagine the many singings he’s enjoying in heaven each day and mama’s right there beside him and they’ve both got a big smile on their face. I’ll see you both real soon, save a place for me in the front right beside both of you. 

© Susie Swanson, 2018

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Mama's Tiny Treasures





Many years ago mama found some tiny, odd looking seeds in her bird seed when she was feeding her birds one morning. They looked so strange and she was so intrigued by em that she decided to stick em in the ground and see what might come up.

She decided to plant em by the front porch post on the end of the porch in case they had vines so they’d have something to climb on. She kept em watered for a few days and then one morning she walked by the porch and looked down and low and behold there were two or three little green plants that had topped the ground. She kept a watch on them for a while and found out they were a vine of some kind cause they started climbing up that porch post.

 Out of curiosity, we all got in on the mysterious vines and kept an eye on them every day. They climbed really high till they reached the ceiling of the porch and then they started running across what I call the wall plate (mantle) of the porch. They soon began to bloom and the blooms were white. By that time we were so excited and anxious to see what kind of flower they might turn out to be. Mama kept saying they were Morning Glories cause they had the same kind of leaves but we were all still skeptical. 

Daddy fixed it all when he came in the door one day and said, ye better get rid of them vines, they’re them Ole Japaney vines and they’re gonna get in this house and kill us all. We all laughed till we hurt. Anybody and everybody that ever knew daddy knew he made up his own words as he went along and we never knew what was gonna come out of his mouth next. If folks didn’t know what he was talking about they played like they did and tried not to laugh in front of him but sometimes that was hard to do.
 He even called people’s name wrong, like my cousin Keith. He called him Cheith and it wasn’t cause he couldn’t say it, he never had a speech problem in his life, that was just his way. Keith would answer him and go on his way just like everybody else.

Back to the subject at hand, I’ll never forget the day a tiny gourd appeared on those vines and we were in awe. Daddy was the one that noticed it first and said, these are some kind of gourds, maybe they ain’t them Ole Japaney vines after all. Sure enough, as more and more appeared and grew more large they were gourds but each one had its own unique shape and color. Some even turned out to be very multi-colored and they all had different shapes. They grew about three inches and stopped. To say we were amazed is an understatement cause we’d never seen gourds like that. Mama and daddy had planted and grown many gourds before but none like those and the leaves were even different on the vines and that’s what threw us off. They hung down from those vines clear across that porch mantle like some kind of Christmas decorations and were so beautiful.

That whole summer everybody that visited was so amazed by those little gourds and even more amazed by how mama came by the seeds. She told everyone that was her lucky find. We’d always been amazed at her cause she could walk through the yard and look down and pick up a four leaf clover and I’ve never found one in my life.

When fall came in and it came time to harvest the tiny gourds mama gathered every one and put them in a big bowl. She said she was gonna let em dry out over the winter and keep a few seeds from some of em. 

When spring time rolled around she planted those little seeds in the ground, nary a one came up. We were all as disappointed as mama even daddy, especially after he’d found out for himself they weren’t Ole Japaney Vines. We were looking forward to another summer of watching those gourds come up and grow. 

Mama kept her little gourds for years cause they last a long time and they were her pride and joy. Mama is gone now and her little gourds too, and I only wish I could turn back time and watch her stick stuff in the ground and the enjoyment on her face when it came up. But that one particular summer it didn’t matter how many flowers or how big the gardens were she took the most pride in her little treasures.
She had a green thumb and everything she planted came up in one fashion or another. I know heaven is so much more beautiful with mama there cause she’s planted everything she can get her hands on. I can’t help but wonder how many tiny gourds are growing and hanging from the vines making more beautiful decorations in heaven.

                                            © Susie Swanson, 2018

Sunday, September 2, 2018

Not A Care In The World




Every year when fall starts coming in with that little,cool nip in the air and the skies are crystal, clear and blue as far as the eye can see, it takes me back to some good memories of those long ago falls, when we didn’t have a care in the world.

Having to hit the ole school bus after tromping through the thickets all summer wasn’t something we looked forward to but after we got back into the groove of things we found it wasn’t so bad after all, till we got the yellow bus fever. We found out the hard way after crying wolf a few times, it doesn’t work.
Mama used to say she wished school went the whole year round. But that was because we worried the daylights out of her.
I asked her one time what worrying the daylights out of her meant and she told me it meant driving her crazy as a bess bug and since we were always into one thing after the other, it was no wonders she had so many gray hairs in her head. I never did ask her what a bess bug was.

They had some funny, ole sayin’s back then but we grew up listening to em so much we took em at what they meant, not what they said.

Every year when the remnants of the garden were gone and mama had canned everything she could including the leftovers from which she made the chow chow, ( man was that stuff good with a big pot of pinto beans ) the whole family pitched in and took up all the taters and carried em to the tater hole. Daddy and the boys would get busy clearing off the patches before cold weather set in. They’d be nice and clean come spring when garden planting time came in.

They’d pile all the corn stalks, bean vines, etc. in a big pile in the middle of the patch. Sometimes they’d have to make two or three piles. Us young’uns could hardly wait till daddy decided to burn em. That’d usually come on a nice calm night or late evening when the wind was still. He always said it was better to wait till after a good rain and the ground was kinda damp. He worried about catching the woods on fire. He’d only burn one brush pile at a time and let the others go till later on.
If we were lucky we’d manage to save a little money and have some marshmallows to roast. We sure did look forward to playing in that fire and roasting marshmallows.
Mama would scold us by sayin, “every one of ye is gonna wet the bed tonight, playin in that fire.” I don’t remember any of us ever wetting the bed but it sure got me to thinking sometimes. Just another ole sayin to get us out of the fire .
We loved to poke at it with sticks and throw a little kindling on it as we called it. The longer that fire burned and the higher the flames, the more we liked it.
It’d smolder all night even after daddy got it burnt down enough to risk leaving it till morning.

Before we had to leave to catch the school bus come morning we’d run back out to the smoldering fire, grab a stick and poke some more till mama’d put us down the road before we missed the bus. She said, “uns are gonna ruin your clothes and they’ll smell like smoke all day long.” We were used to that since we had wood heat in the winter we smelled of smoke anyways, didn’t bother us none.

All the brush piles would be burnt by frost and we had to figure out other ways to have fun. We never did have to look far. We made up our own fun as we went along.

We always had to walk out to the main road a purty good ways to catch the school bus. We’d dare one another to stick their tongue to the mailbox on a frosty morning. It’d freeze our tongue to it and it was hard to get lose without pulling the skin off. One morning my youngest brother stuck his to it just about the time the bus came and he tried to get it lose and finally had to jerk it off. When we all got on the bus I looked at him and he was close to tears but wouldn’t let on. I knew he was hurting something fierce.
After that happened and mama and daddy found out about it they put a stop to it in a big way, or so they thought.

When the weather came in even more cold and daddy was home and not off working he’d walk out with us to the road and build us a fire so we could get warm. He’d tote a little kindling out and just enough wood to get it going good so we could warm our hands and when the bus run he’d be the one to put it out before he went back to the house.
My oldest brother kept on till he talked daddy into letting him build it and it’d save him walking out with us. Daddy didn’t take much to that idea at first but he finally gave in. I’m sure he came along behind us and checked on it after we caught the bus.

My brother was always good at building fires in the wood heater and cook stove and he could build a nice little fire, if I say so myself. The only problem was, when the bus came one or two of the other boys like to kick it and send that fire sailing.
After a couple times of doing this, it all came to a kietis and we had to do without a fire. It’s a thousand wonders it hadn’t caught the woods on fire or worse.

When the first snowflakes started falling we jumped for joy. We loved the big snows that came in knee deep. We’d get outta school quite a while. One time I remember schools shutting down for two weeks. It was all we could do to plow through it to get to the barn to feed the cow or to milk, but that didn’t stop us.
All we had to put on our hands was an ole pair of worn out socks. We were in one door and out the other. We’d throw snowballs at one another, make snowmen and slide down the hill in the cow pasture on anything we could find. Sometimes it’d be an ole piece of cardboard or if we were lucky an ole car hood. It’s a wonders we didn’t all get killed with all the chances we took.
We’d run inside long enough to warm up and eat a bite and back out we’d go. We’d eat enough snow cream to get the sore throat but as for playing outside in the cold it never hurt us none. We were used to it come spring, summer, fall or winter.

Some of the stuff we got into and done may not seem like much fun to some but we were just a bunch of young’uns having the best of times and enjoying the simple pleasures in life and putting more and more gray hairs on our mama’s head.
There was always plenty to do and we never had a care in the world.

© Susie Swanson, 2018

Monday, August 20, 2018

Making Do




My mama came from a family of ten kids, two girls and eight boys. She grew up in a close, knit family that believed in working for ye keep and learning early on how to survive and get by. Many times she told how they survived the depression and made do with whatever they had.

Back then everybody grew their own food but the basics were hard to come by. During the depression they gave out coupons and they’d pick em up at the little local store. The storekeeper would hand em out each month according to how many was in a family. He always had to keep records of what he handed out for the government. He helped people out a lot too. They’d bring their canned goods in and exchange em for something they needed. There was always someone in need and he knew he would be able to get rid of it all.

Mama said most of the time they’d just get a couple pounds of coffee to do a month or five or ten pounds of flour, and a bucket of lard with their coupons. If they were lucky to get an extra coupon they’d get a small bag of sugar or an extra five pounds of flour. The flour came in cloth sacks and their mother saved them up and sewed them into dresses and shirts.

Mama said that grandma would boil the same coffee grounds over and over till that coffee was so thin ye could see through it. Even after the depression started easing up and grandpa went to work for the WPA and they had a little more to live on grandma was still in the saving mode and kept boiling the coffee grounds over and over. My grandpa got tired of it and told her one day, now Sarie (Sarah) stop boiling them coffee grounds over so much. What ye doing, straining it through a white rag, you can stop now I want some real coffee not stained water. It was hard for grandma to change. She’d been in the saving business to long.

They always had plenty of cornmeal for bread since they grew the corn and grandpa carried big toe sacks to my other grandpa’s old grist mill every week. She said they only used the flour for breakfast cause they sure did love them cathead biscuits and gravy. There was many a morning they had to eat cornbread with their gravy cause they didn’t have any flour. Of course, cornmeal gravy and cornbread is the best eating around.

She and her brothers used to trap rabbits and take them to the little country store in exchange for some of the basics they needed. This was after they cleaned the rabbits up good and the head had to stay on them. My grandma knew exactly what the rabbits were worth by how many they had caught. He paid by the pound and she knew it. She’d make out a list of what she needed and send them to the store to fill it.

One time she and one of her brother’s that was the closest to her in age caught ten rabbits and took off towards the store with the rabbits on a stick and grandma’s list. On the way to the store her brother told her we’re gonna get us somethin good today. Mama told him, no we can’t cause mommy knows exactly how many rabbits we got, she’s made her list. He stuck his hand up under his coat and pulled out another rabbit. He said, I told you we’re gonna get us somethin good today. The only problem was the rabbit didn’t have a head. Apparently, while they were cleaning them one lost its head someway and he’d stuck it under his coat. The storekeeper always wanted them with their heads intact. He had a little shed over to the side of the store building that people hung their rabbits in.

When they got to the store and hung their rabbits they went in and told him how many they had and gave him their list. He walked outside and went in and looked at the rabbits from the door and counted them. He said, somebody’s counted wrong this time, you’ve got eleven instead of ten.
Mama said her brother spoke up and said alrighty, we got enough to get us somethin good this time. The storekeeper told him ye sure do, so pick out what ye want. Her brother pointed to a big jar of candy sitting on the counter and said we want a whole, paper bag of that candy. He filled their list and the bag of candy and they headed home. The candy was chocolate drops and can still be bought today, especially around Christmas time and they’re rich as can be.

On the way home they eat the whole bag of chocolate drops and by the time they got home they were sicker than a buzzard. They started puking and they puked all night. My grandma didn’t know what in the world to think. She was up with em all night trying to clean up the messes and do what she could for em.
The next morning they felt and looked like death warmed over. When grandma seen they were on the mend she asked em what did they eat to get so sick. They’d been taught all of their life not to lie and knew if they did they’d be in worse shape than they already were so they told her the truth. She marched them back over the road to the store and made em tell the storekeeper what they’d done. He just stood there and looked at em for a bit and then he spoke up and said, well I guess they’ve been punished enough this time but it better not happen again.
From that day forward they didn’t take another rabbit without its head and they never eat another chocolate drop as long as they lived.

To say times were rough is an understatement but they survived the best way they knew how and mama said they never went to bed hungry a night in their life. They always had something to eat even if it was an old possum baked in the oven. I guess that’s why she hated the sight of an ole possum. Back then times were so hard they had to make do.


                                                    © Susie Swanson, 2018

The above pic is one of my mom and her dad and mom (my grandparents) back when she was a young woman. ~Susie~

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Memories Never Age




From the time she was a little sprout
She walked with a happy song
Old dirt roads were the common route
Where so many feet traveled upon

Walking hand and hand together
Her little grandma by her side
Eight short years seemed forever
A happy little girl with joy and pride

She came to learn so much more
As she listened along the way
Visiting many, walking to the store
Was the usual routine each day

Or sitting upon an old fence rail
Eating an apple under the tree
Grandma gathering apples in her apron tail
The taste of that apple, what a memory

Skipping along, looking for a pretty rock
Running through the creek, busting it wide
Hardly a shoe, never a sock
Stumping her toes, she never cried

Her mouth running ninety miles an hour
Asking questions, curious as could be
Grabbing a crabapple, oh how sour
Her grandma warned her aimlessly

Walking to church many a time
Decoration day was an annual event
Dinner on the ground, a sure fire sign
The whole day they rejoiced and spent

So proud of her pretty, little, church dress
Her mama made, especially for the day
And those pretty roses, were the best
Sitting on the graves in a big bouquet

Carrying that little doll her grandma gave
With piercing eyes, blue as the sky
The smallest things are worth the save
Worth more than money can buy

So many memories for a small girl
Tucked away of a few short years
Her grandma was short for this world
Golden memories wipe away the tears

In her mind, she’ll never lose sight
Of her grandma on that distant shore
Her voice she still hears each night
Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll do even more

Today she smiles with a happy heart
Turning back time and each cherished page
She and her grandma will never part
Although she’s grown, memories never age



© Susie Swanson, 2018

Just a little update. Please continue to keep me in your prayers. I'm having a very hard time and trying to get the right dose of steroids daily in me. They may have to change them to another kind since these are not picking me up at all. This is the life of an Addison's Disease Patient. They're also running other tests to try and find out about my other glands also. I'm waiting on the results of a CT Scan to come back to see if my pituitary gland is damaged or if I might have Hypoptituitaryism which means my gland is not working at all. I'm trying to keep my spirits up and leaning more on God every day. I get out of breath easily when I walk to the restroom and very weak. God has a plan and I'm clinging to his promises. What I'd give to be able to go back to that little girl again that I've wrote about for so long but I cling to my memories more each day. Thanks so much for the prayers and I'm praying for you all as well. I miss visiting with you all and hopefully soon I can more often. May God Bless each one of you.