My Sister's Great Experience

There were so many children in our family while growing up. Many times family members and others would either jokingly or seriously ask my mother something like, "Can I have that child? I haven't any kids and I think I can give it more than you can". My mother never took anyone to heart about taking her kids away. She just smiled and said something like, " No, I don't want my kids to be separated from one another. I want them to always know that they are brothers and sisters."

One year, however, my father decided to let my youngest sister spend a summer with one of mom's aunts who had never had children. The aunt took my sister to visit relatives in New York; she bought her expensive dolls and other toys, and she was always taking her to dinners, playdates, etc. I'm sure my sister was enjoying herself immensly.

Once when Aunt came to visit and brought our sister to play with us, my mother was observing our little sister very carefully. Mom realized that our sister didn't want to be touched by us; we weren't dressed as nice as she was. Our hair wasn't in place like hers was. That's when mom spoke up and said that Auntie had to leave our little sister at home with her immediate family. My mom could see divisions starting with her children that she never wanted to happen. Of course, our Aunt was angry for some time before she understood things.

Our little sister, after some time passed, came back down to earth, and once again, fell right in with us, her little ordinary brothers and sisters.

Great-Grandma's 'Black Bag'

In the 1940's, in the rural southern part of the US, my Great-Grandma was the only midwife for many miles around in any given direction. She had close to more births than she could contend with in our neck of the woods. The Coverted 'Black Bag' occupied a sacred place behind the front door. Great-Grandma always told me NEVER to touch or open the 'Black Bag' under any circumstances. I was little more than five years old then, and I really believed my Great-Grandma when she said that the 'babies' were resting in the 'Black Bag'.

One occasion I especially remember is when I was visiting with Great-Grandma and she had a patient to attend to. There were already five children in that precious family and they all were expecting one more addition. I was told to play with the kids as my Great-Grandma rushed in the bedroom with the mother. In a few hours, we heard some small squealing sounds. My Great-Grandma opened the door and said to the children, "You have another beautiful baby sister."

The three girls and two boys wanted to see their sister, but Great-Grandma said she wasn't finished yet. And, indeed, she wasn't. Another hour passed and we heard even louder squealing.

Twins! Even the mother wasn't aware that she was carrying twins. What a wonderful surprise!
The children and I were all jumping up and down. My Great-Grandma was stunned, but very happy. She felt she had had a real interesting and sucessful day. When the children were wondering among themselves where the babies had come from, I felt so superior. For had not my beloved Great-Grandma told me that she took babies with her in the trusty 'Black Bag'? Well, I felt the 'Bag' was two baby girls lighter!"

Allergy -Prone

I seem to be prone to allergies. My nose is always watering, and so are my eyes. When I visit our garden, I'm out of commission for a few days. I adore the summer blossoms; petunias, marigolds, and countless others. But, even a tiny bit of exposure to the blossoms on these plants leave me with excruciating headaches. Even my eyeballs hurt.

I've tried many allergy preparations, but none works for me. I just give my body much needed time and good nourishment. Porch-sitting is one of my favorite things to do. But, if the breezes are blowing in a certain direction, I automatically turn my chair in another direction to avoid allergins that are wind-borne from hitting me directly in the face.

I enjoy residing in the southern part of the US. But, these never-ending allergies will prompt me to consider relocating to another part of our great country. Maybe living in a colder climate will rescue me from some of these allergic reactions, once and for all. What will be lost? Headaches, runny nose and watery eyes

Don't Give In To Loneliness

Lonliness can be a real Monster. It can play tricks on you, and you won't realize it until it's too late. Lonliness must be handled aggresively. Stomp your feet and get busy. There are a multitude of things to do to help combat lonliness. For example, I'm a retired senior, but I manage to stay a few steps ahead of sheer boredom. I care for and play with my really intelligent dogs; I play games on the internet; I perform some household tasks every day. I attend church services. I visit family and neighbors. Hubby and I work in our garden plot a few times a week.

I also listen to lots of music. My musical taste runs the gamut of genres. I do some blogging about three times a week. I do stay in touch with out-of -town family and friends on a regular basis. I do not give lonliness a chance to catch up to me. I enjoy walking around the park a few towns away. At times, I like to cook up something very different from the usual, mundane daily fare.

Due to illness, I haven't been able to travel in several years. That is definitely the best of the best! Traveling. Nothing tops it. Traveling outruns lonliness every time.

Babies From The 'Black Bag'

In the late '40's in rural South Carolina, my Great-Grandmother was the only midwife living in our neck of the woods. I would spend lots of time with her, especially during the summer months. Her black midwives' bag was always in its place behind the front door. Whenever
Great-Grandma had a visitor and he asked her for her services, she would grab the black bag.

One day I asked Great-Grandma what were the contents of her bag. Of course, she said the babies lived in the black bag and for me never to tamper with it in any way. I was four or five years old at the time, and boy! was I ever afraid to encounter a live baby in a black bag! No one could pay me to touch that bag.

On one memorable occasion, Great-Grandma took her black bag to a family' home. She told me to play with the other children while she assisted the mother. After about three hours, we heard a small squealing. Great-Grandma stuck her head out the bedroom door and announced that it was a girl. The five brothers and sisters and I wanted to see the baby. But they weren't done yet. Another hour passed before we heard more squealing. The second baby had made her presence known. Twins! Identical, except for the lungs. Baby number two had more power. She could squeal much louder than her sister.

When it was time for us kids to come into the bedroom to see the two new additions to that precious family, we were in awe. Where did the two babies come from? The three brothers and two older sisters were whispering among themselves. Suddenly, I felt so superior, for I knew they had previously resided in the 'black bag' until they decided which family they wanted to be a part of!

Great-Grandma looked very pleased at her satifying work. She would come back the next week to finish the paperwork and turn it in. All in all, Great-Grandma and I had a really productive day.

Quaint Times

I'm reminiscing about the times in my early childhood when I spent nights in Grandma's house and she was called to go to a neighbor's home to bring a child into the world. Grandma was the only midwife in that rural part of the country for many miles around. Sometimes two or more families would be needing her services in the same day. Getting around was no easy task. Mule and wagon was the mode of transportation.

One particular day Grandma grabbed her trusty black bag with one hand and she grabbed my hand with her other hand. Off we went to the home of the expectant mother. When we finally arrived, Grandma rushed in the room with the mother. She asked me to play with the other children. Just as we were really getting into the game of hide and seek, we heard a small squeaking sound. Grandma stuck her head out the bedroom door and announced that a little girl had made her way into this world. Her sisters and brothers wanted to see her right away, but Grandma said that she and the Mother wasn't finished yet. After about fifteen minutes more, we heard more squealing; another little girl had burst upon the scene.

Twins! They seemed to be healthy enough. This being the Mom's sixth and seventh children, respectively, she knew how to care for herself to ensure the health and wellbeing of her babies.

My Grandma was thrilled beyond herself. She did not anticipate twins.Identical ones, at that. The only noticeable difference was the second one seemed to have a stronger pair of lungs. She really could put up some wailing!

Grandma asked me to help her to tidy up a bit; then we were on our way home. Grandma said her day was very productive and sucessful. She had to return to that family' home later in the week to record the names for the birth record. The mother wanted to talk things over with her husband before names were chosen.

Getting Back On Track! (Doggy Daze)

I'm back! Back to my self after an extended illness due to a serious fall. I'm trying different ways to get back on track. My favorite little doggy, Nassau, died last winter. We mourned his loss for a time: I then decided to get another dog. I believe Nassau would have been pleased to have 'Slick' as his friend. Then my spouse, Joseph, decided that Slick needed a companion, so along came Choca. Is he a character or what? Although Choca is a few months younger than Slick, due to his breed, he is much larger. Of course, Choca is the Alpha Male in the yard. Slick doesn't dare challenge him under no circumstances. As long as Slick follows the established 'rules' that seemed to have been thought up by Choca, they can do very well, thank you.

Slick is a really smart little dog, and sometimes he just want to follow his own thoughts. But, that's when the trouble starts. Choca isn't having any of Slick's ideas getting in the way of his own. Slick very easily goes back to being very compliant to keep in good stead with Choca. They both seem to be quite content in their world. They eat, play,and sleep together with hardly a ruffle as long as each of them obey the 'rules' established by Choca.

I'm sure that having had to care for, and interact with, those dogs were a therapeutic time for me. As I said at the start of this post, I had fallen and banged my head rather badly. The neurosurgeon said I was in a 'clinical depression'. For a time I couldn't concentrate on anything; but when Slick was given to me as a pup, I knew I had to care for him. Him being a Jack Russel Terrier, he never stayed still. I didn't have time to think of myself. I had to be consistent in caring for him.
He certainly helped me, along with Choca, to come back to myself. Needless to say, they are my
special 'wee furry children'!













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