A Gift - Bandit - the Cedar Waxwing

Here is the gift that was in my back yard today - a very hungry, very beautiful cedar waxwing. I am so thrilled that I saw him in the nandina bush having quite a new year's feast! He took plenty of time to pose for me but I won't bother you with all 100 pictures...I remember when Kathy and I would ride around in her old Volvo following flocks of cedar waxwings as they flew from holly to holly around Newnan. It was usually in February that we caught up with them. I know Kathy was smiling down from heaven as I took these pictures of this wonderful little bird today! By the way, Kathy, I named him Bandit.

Life Changes - Passages - Should I Write a Book?

• OK - It's already been written.

• Anyway, I love this picture for so many reasons. First of all, I am the adorable young child looking at the camera. The other child is my much older sister. We are standing over with my aunt who prepared this lovely dinner. (Notice there is no place for us children at the table. I'm guessing we had already eaten or were being sent to eat in the kitchen.) My mother is the one looking at the camera and Dad is beside her. Across the table are my cousin and his girlfriend. My uncle took the picture. I remember eating with Mom's or Dad's family all the time. We didn't have to have a holiday or special occasion, we just did it.

• The china on the table belonged to my paternal grandmother - more about her later - maybe next post. I digress... Back to passages - my sister is now packing this very china up to be handed down to my great niece, her granddaughter, who is now the age my sister was in this picture. I love the way we do that here in the South.. My great niece already needs a china cabinet and she's not even ten years old yet. What a very lucky little girl! (This china came from her great, great grandmother!)

• I love the watch chain you see on Dad's pants. His pocket watches are very special to us!

• I love the color of the walls in my Aunt's dining room. I love the drapes. Note the battenburg table cloth - I must have inherited that gene from her. I remember that house and all the good times I had there. This was a cooking Auntie. She would let us watch and help and I know I learned a lot from her.

• I love my family. They are rich blessings in my life. So we pack up the china and turn another page in the family history book. I love this story...

Home-Baked Goods - The Fun Starts Today

Back in my old principal-ing days, Coach Kidd would always ask me about bringing in home-baked goods. He seemed to be serious, as if I should be expected to bring in goodies for such a great staff. Didn't he know that I was a busy woman who could not concern herself with such as that? Didn't he know that I didn't even have a cake pan - much less a mixer? Didn't he know I thought he was great even if I never made him a pound cake?

When all my friends were getting married (some of them over and over) and having showers and receiving mixers and cake pans, I was in school and working. (Not that Mom didn't warn me - she asked if I would be happy spending my life with my books - and yes, I am pretty happy with them...)

But I must admit that I have fond "growing-up" memories of home-baked goods. Mom and I would bake - with varying degrees of success. Once we had the GE oven man come check the oven. When it was found to be calibrated exactly right and performing properly, Mom and I had to take a bit of responsibility for a few disasters. But we got quite good with Lemon Supreme and Prune Cake (Yes, you read it right - had a jar of baby-food prunes in it - tasted like spice cake.)

My grandmother and my aunts were/are great cooks. I watched them for years and learned a lot.

Martha's Mom and Dad were pound cake bakers. I loved to show up when the cake was in the oven and the milk glasses were in the freezer! Yummm!

My sister and I would bake and still do, actually. We're still perfecting our cookies with royal icing and she's a pro with the gingerbread house. JM and I made a pecan pie once and left out the sugar. About half way through the baking time, we found the sugar bag still out and added it then. It was perfect, teaching us that all these silly steps in these recipes are not all really necessary. And the carrot cake I made for JM's dad's birthday cracked and fell off the plate - so I delivered it in baggies and he said it was the best cake he had ever eaten. He was a precious, precious soul!

Well, I bought my new mixer today and I'm ready to figure out how to bake. I made my first pound cake tonight and I'm proud to announce that over half of it came out of the pan. I felt compelled to eat all that part that stayed in the pan and I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow.

If you have recipes I must try, send them on - and please don't leave out any key ingredients - I'd never know it!

So, Coach, give me a bit of time to practice and then come on over. The home-baked goods will be waiting!

Mr. Lucious Johnson

I had dinner tonight with a dear friend to celebrate my retirement. We shared many old stories, but one I told that I hadn't thought about for years was the story of Mr. Lucious Johnson. When I hired Lucious he was 64 and I was 35. He was a quiet, gentle black man whom I had hired to be my floor technician at a brand new elementary school. He worked mostly those odd hours when the children weren't there so that he could run the big noisy equipment that kept the floors beautiful, shiny, and new. He did wonderful work and was very proud of his floors. We had many teddy bears around the school and he would tell the children that they ran around the school halls at night, sliding on their fuzzy bottoms, polishing the floors. They would laugh and wonder at his tales. They too loved Lucious. But what I remember most about Lucious were those quiet times when he and I were alone in the building and I would hear his big, deep, beautiful voice singing his church hymns. Sometimes I would quietly sing along and he never knew that. Mostly, however, I would just listen and learn from his heart-felt singing. Sometimes I would come out to check on him and find him on his knees with his small pocket knife scraping up a spot that just wasn't supposed to be there, singing all the while.

Mr. Lucious Johnson is singing in the heavenly choir now. I just hope that he knew that I loved and respected him. We shared so much - similar work ethics and love for the children - and he cared every bit as much about his job as I did about mine. I was so lucky to have known him!