My writer friend, Christy Struben, says that when I write, I somehow go off on little "rabbit trails." I can't dispute that at all. My mind just goes faster than I can manage and I write so many things that have nothing to do with one another. I just have to get everything in before I forget it. Guess that comes with "old age" creeping up on me.
Sewing. That was what I had intended to write about in the blog before this one. My husband had given me four pair of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans for Christmas. Since I am so short, I have to cut off a couple inches and hem them up again. I don't believe I have ever bought but one pair of jeans that fit lengthwise since I began wearing jeans when I was a teenager. I usually go to the petite section of the store but even some of those clothing does not fit well. I am by no means petite in body stature. I'm just shortwaisted and short legged.
I wear a size 6 shoe but I can't find a pair of socks to fit my small "short" foot. The normal size sock for my shoe size is about an inch too long and either the heel comes up to my ankle or I have to turn it under, which makes the toes feel very uncomfortable. My wonderful aunt in Alabama could cut the toe of the sock off and painstakingly sew it up again so it would fit. She had a small foot too. She sent me several pair of socks she had sewn up like that and believe it or not-they fit! I have long since worn them out so I can't use them as a pattern to follow to fix mine. I resorted to buying boys socks and they fit the foot great, but they are very snug around the ankle and lower leg areas. It cuts off the circulation a bit down there so I don't know whether that is good or bad. My dear Aunt Velma has long since passed to her eternal home so I won't be getting any more socks from her. One of her daughters, Christine, I believe, worked in the sock factory in Alabama and she brought some of the imperfect socks home and gave to Aunt Velma. Those are the socks my aunt would fix at the toes. Not to brag for the sake of bragging, but southern people who have lived lives of poverty, learn how to "make-do" with whatever comes their way. I guess I come by that naturally. I've learned a lot in my life so I try to pass on some of the goodies I've learned.
Now, getting back to sewing—again. When my husband was in the army and stationed in Viet Nam, he sent me a box of silk fabric made over there. In the box was three bolts of fabric; turquoise blue, pure white, and gold. When I opened the box I thought I was in heaven. I thought of so many things to make out of that lovely silk. All of the bolts of material had oriental designs all over it. I chose the turquoise first to sew. I bought a lovely dress pattern of a mandarin dress with high collar and those fancy "frogs" for closures. Then I set to work cutting out the dress as well as a lining of the same color that I had bought. I was never so careful of cutting and basting, then sewing slowly so as not to make a mistake. I had never sewn anything so tedious in my all my years of sewing. The silk and the rayon lining was constantly shifting and I'd find myself doing crazy things with my needle and thread to keep the two slippery pieces of material in line with one another. After a few times taking out the same stitches I had just put in, I learned that I really did need the pins as well as the basting to keep the material from shifting and ruining the design of the dress. The finished dress was my triumph once I tacked the frogs to the front opening, just like the oriental tailors did it. When I tried that dress on and it fit like a glove, showing off my curves and bust line, I couldn't have been more pleased with myself. I had my next door neighbor take a picture of me in it and I sent it to my husband. The "Wow!" I got when he saw the picture said volumes! I could almost picture in my mind the way his eyes sparkled when he was pleased.
Next, I bought a pattern for a simple sundress with rounded collar and full back zipper that went below my waist. I chose the gold silk to create this dress. Again, I bought gold rayon for the lining. I worked for days cutting and sewing the dress, lining it completely. When it was done and I had it on, it looked like a cocktail dress. What it needed now was a matching stole for cover up on a cool evening. So, I set to work again, also lining it with the gold rayon material. I really wasn't done though. I thought it needed a matching long coat-jacket. So, again, I bought a pattern and in no time I had a beautiful evening coat to wear in case the weather grew cool when the sun went down.
Looking at my new wardrobe, I couldn't have been more pleased with myself. I showed it to several friends and they oohed and aahed over the dresses and stole, plus the evening coat. Now, where would I wear something so simple and yet elegant? I bought wardrobe "closets" to hang everything in so they wouldn't need pressing after hanging in my closet.
I wrote my husband about my accomplishments with the material he sent me and my trusty sewing machine that was just a few years old then. (It is now almost 60 years old and still running well.) I decided not to use the white silk just yet, but I knew that one day it would get its' turn at becoming something beautiful.
Years later, when our third child, a girl we named Evelyn Marie, was six years old, was going to make her first holy communion. We were living in Germany at the time. I took the bus and went into Hanau, a lovely town that had a big department store called the Kaufhoff, much like Target is today. There I found a few yards of German white lace for the overlay skirt and bodice. Afterward, I went to our Post Exchange (the PX) and I found some white organdy material to make an underskirt. I found a pattern for the dress I wanted to make and promptly set to work on it. Marie's first holy communion was only a few weeks off. She had to look as pretty, or prettier than the rest of the girls. I cut and basted and sewed until I was almost blind but I finished the dress on time. My husband and I couldn't have been prouder if I had made a dress for a princess. Well, let's face it—she was our princess! I took lots of pictures of her in her beautiful white dress, white veil and flower tiarra and white baby doll shoes.
Now, our three children are all grown up; our two boys into fine young men and our daughter into a beautiful, successful woman. My dresses are still in the zippered bags to keep them clean, and Marie's dress is in the closet. She is married now for twenty six years and as Fate would have it, she has no children, no little girl of her own to wear her communion dress. I'll just keep it and remember when I sewed it with Viet Nam silk, German lace and American organdy. (I thought of it as a real international dress.)
Enough about sewing now. God bless you who will read this labor of love. Evelyn.
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Monday, January 16, 2017
SEWING
A couple months ago, after a trip to the doctor, I learned that I have shrunk another 3/4th of an inch. Now I am four feet, ten and one quarter inch. Rats! The tallest I have ever been was four feet, eleven and three quarter inches high. I wanted so badly to reach a full five feet tall. It never happened. But because of the small spaces on my drivers license, I just put five feet tall so I wouldn't have to go into full detail about my height. Now I am the smallest of my mother's four girls. My youngest sister, Leasa, is a little bit taller than I am, but she is no giant either. I believe she's under five feet, but not as "under" as I am. I believe all of us girls and our mother have shrunk some in our senior years.
And just think—I drove a big school bus for thirty years! At first I drove it with my big toe on the accelerator, but after cramps began plaguing the calf of my right leg, I asked my boss to do something with the peddles on the bus, if he wanted me to continue to drive. I told him about the leg cramps and that I couldn't continue to drive if my leg began cramping every time during my runs. Well, he hummed and hawed about the bus not passing inspections if the transportation officers saw the blocks on the peddles. And, he wasn't too sure how safe they would be for me either. "So, paint them black like the rest of the floor so they won't be seen," I said. After a few seconds thought, he agreed that maybe it could be done. The next morning I could actually reach the peddles comfortably. And, everything was black so the changes couldn't be seen unless one got on hands and knees to see them.
There was one man who drove for our company that must have been close to seven feet tall. I know that my head just came up to the middle of his chest. His belt buckle hit just below my chin. We had to go on a trip to Longwood Gardens one day, a surprise to me, but I agreed to go. When Andy (the tall man) came out to talk to me about the trip, I told him in plain terms, shaking my finger up, up, up in his face at the same time, "If you lose me on this trip, when I find you again, I'm going to break your knees!" Of course, that made him laugh. I may not be able to reach his arm pits, but I definitely could reach his knees. The trip went well and Andy only had to pull over on the side of the road to wait for me to get through the red light one time. Boy! did I thank him for that! Sitting at that light waiting for it to change so I could catch up to him was pure anxiety for me. He only had to do that once. I tail-gated him from then on. When we got back to the parking lot he said to me, "When I looked back I thought I was towing your bus, you were that close." I had to keep up with him, didn't I?
Well, enough about my height. I can do anything anyone else who's taller than me can do, within reason, that is. But I'm proud to say that I was the only lady bus driver in our family up until two years ago. My niece, Melody, quit her high paying job with Rite Aid (she was manager) and got a job driving a school bus in Delaware because she needed to spend more time at home with her two children. I am proud to say that I influenced her and told her many stories to help her get a CDL license. She lined up her first bus drivers job before she even knew how to drive a bus. She studied hard and passed her tests, got her CDL and went to work the next week. Hooray! for Melody!
Well, enough about bus driving. I retired after thirty years, when I was sixty five years old. I didn't grow tired of the job but I thought it was time to stay home and take care of my husband and my mother. And, that's just what I did.
On my last day of driving, when school ended that year, one of my students parents through a big block party for me. Heidi knew I wanted to become a published writer and she told all the parents that what I needed in lieu of gifts was enough money to self-publish a book of poems. When I said a tearful farewell to all my wonderful students and their generous parents, I had collected a whopping $530.00 and a lovely pink flowered tote bag. With this money collecting a little interest in the bank, I contacted a publisher and before long I had my first book of poems, entitled God's Potpourri of love in my hands. What a spiritual high I was on. I walked around on a cloud for quite a while, proud as a peacock. My friend, Heidi, had drawn the cover of the book and it was gorgeous! It has a pine tree reaching to the sky (depicting God), a set of angel wings surrounding the tree (God's spirit), and a rainbow covering the top of the tree (God's promise to mankind). Topping the tree is a gold cross, a reminder that Jesus died for all mankind so that we could have a relationship of love with His Father. It is my hope that this spiritual poetry book will sell well, eventually. So far, more money has gone out with the publishing of this book than has been realized from it's meager sales. But, the real wealth in this book is how much everyone who has purchased it has liked it. I know of three persons who has read it more than two times. That means a lot to me.
If, by chance anyone would like to purchase a copy of this book, it is $18.00 and I will pay for the mailing fees. Just use my e-mail address and let me know by putting "your book" in the subject line of the e-mail, which is eb.ryan@verizon.net.
God bless you all.
Evelyn
And just think—I drove a big school bus for thirty years! At first I drove it with my big toe on the accelerator, but after cramps began plaguing the calf of my right leg, I asked my boss to do something with the peddles on the bus, if he wanted me to continue to drive. I told him about the leg cramps and that I couldn't continue to drive if my leg began cramping every time during my runs. Well, he hummed and hawed about the bus not passing inspections if the transportation officers saw the blocks on the peddles. And, he wasn't too sure how safe they would be for me either. "So, paint them black like the rest of the floor so they won't be seen," I said. After a few seconds thought, he agreed that maybe it could be done. The next morning I could actually reach the peddles comfortably. And, everything was black so the changes couldn't be seen unless one got on hands and knees to see them.
There was one man who drove for our company that must have been close to seven feet tall. I know that my head just came up to the middle of his chest. His belt buckle hit just below my chin. We had to go on a trip to Longwood Gardens one day, a surprise to me, but I agreed to go. When Andy (the tall man) came out to talk to me about the trip, I told him in plain terms, shaking my finger up, up, up in his face at the same time, "If you lose me on this trip, when I find you again, I'm going to break your knees!" Of course, that made him laugh. I may not be able to reach his arm pits, but I definitely could reach his knees. The trip went well and Andy only had to pull over on the side of the road to wait for me to get through the red light one time. Boy! did I thank him for that! Sitting at that light waiting for it to change so I could catch up to him was pure anxiety for me. He only had to do that once. I tail-gated him from then on. When we got back to the parking lot he said to me, "When I looked back I thought I was towing your bus, you were that close." I had to keep up with him, didn't I?
Well, enough about my height. I can do anything anyone else who's taller than me can do, within reason, that is. But I'm proud to say that I was the only lady bus driver in our family up until two years ago. My niece, Melody, quit her high paying job with Rite Aid (she was manager) and got a job driving a school bus in Delaware because she needed to spend more time at home with her two children. I am proud to say that I influenced her and told her many stories to help her get a CDL license. She lined up her first bus drivers job before she even knew how to drive a bus. She studied hard and passed her tests, got her CDL and went to work the next week. Hooray! for Melody!
Well, enough about bus driving. I retired after thirty years, when I was sixty five years old. I didn't grow tired of the job but I thought it was time to stay home and take care of my husband and my mother. And, that's just what I did.
On my last day of driving, when school ended that year, one of my students parents through a big block party for me. Heidi knew I wanted to become a published writer and she told all the parents that what I needed in lieu of gifts was enough money to self-publish a book of poems. When I said a tearful farewell to all my wonderful students and their generous parents, I had collected a whopping $530.00 and a lovely pink flowered tote bag. With this money collecting a little interest in the bank, I contacted a publisher and before long I had my first book of poems, entitled God's Potpourri of love in my hands. What a spiritual high I was on. I walked around on a cloud for quite a while, proud as a peacock. My friend, Heidi, had drawn the cover of the book and it was gorgeous! It has a pine tree reaching to the sky (depicting God), a set of angel wings surrounding the tree (God's spirit), and a rainbow covering the top of the tree (God's promise to mankind). Topping the tree is a gold cross, a reminder that Jesus died for all mankind so that we could have a relationship of love with His Father. It is my hope that this spiritual poetry book will sell well, eventually. So far, more money has gone out with the publishing of this book than has been realized from it's meager sales. But, the real wealth in this book is how much everyone who has purchased it has liked it. I know of three persons who has read it more than two times. That means a lot to me.
If, by chance anyone would like to purchase a copy of this book, it is $18.00 and I will pay for the mailing fees. Just use my e-mail address and let me know by putting "your book" in the subject line of the e-mail, which is eb.ryan@verizon.net.
God bless you all.
Evelyn
Sunday, January 15, 2017
TIME FLYS
Time certainly does fly away and before we know it, another year has begun. We are into the middle of January right now. Christmas passed so quickly and soon after the decorations were put away, all except the coffee table spray of greens, pine cones, fancy ribbons and a few shinny balls. It's a beautiful table decoration, made by our daughter-in-law, Betty, Chuck's wife. Betty made several wreaths for our front and side doors. She made table decorations for my mother, Edith, and our daughter, Marie. Now, Betty isn't able to do anything like that any more. She has had alzheimer's disease for about four years. I pray for her and my son every night. Her fate is in God's capable hands.
We had a wonderful Christmas, spent with our two children and their spouses. The amount of gifts were overwhelming this year. I spent three months shopping from warehouse catalogs this year, something I will not do again. I bought so many things that I found it hard to keep track of who I got them for. Two weeks before Christmas I began wrapping them. It took me three days! Nope! Not again.
I really think at almost 77 years old (me) and 82 (my husband), that there really isn't much I need in the way of clothing, shoes, jewelry...wait—I, uh, love looking at jewelry in the lighted cases. The stones shine so pretty and it certainly catches my eye. I stand there and admire those shinny baubles. But, lets face it—I have so much pretty costume jewelry that I will never need another piece of glitter in my life time. Well, maybe a pretty pair of earrings, necklace or attractive ring on a special occasion now and then.
Getting back to Christmas; the best part of the holiday is going to church services and doing the candles in the darkened room at the end of the service. The Hallelujah chore singing their hearts out in harmony, and the joy of it all. My heart almost burst out of my chest with joy and love for Jesus and His Father, Jehovah God.
Having a great dinner together with all my family there, including my younger sister, Leasa, was also a highlight of the day. The only dark spot on the day was the absence of my middle son, Alen. This February 17th he will have been gone from us for three years. He died of a massive heart attack. Such a loss of life. There was an empty place at the table that will never be filled again. Enough sadness. Christmas turned out to be a wonderful day with my family, one that I look forward to every year.
For my writers group I wrote a Christmas poem and posted it on our Mountain Christian Church blog spot. It was called "Happy Birthday, Jesus." I have been writing poems for Thanksgiving and Christmas for several years now. They are always well received, although I do not know what the public thinks of them when they read them on our Portions of Grace blog. I know our writers group loves them.
Well, this is the end to a wonderful Sunday. Church services this morning, a long visit with our daughter after church and then two hours at my writers meeting. I got another devotion critiqued and approved for posting on the 27th of January, a day before my 77th birthday. So, now it is time to close this writing for now. Ten o'clock is my cut-off time for writing. I am tired anyway.
God bless all who are reading this blog. I hope you enjoyed it. Until another time, good night and blessings to you all.
Evelyn
We had a wonderful Christmas, spent with our two children and their spouses. The amount of gifts were overwhelming this year. I spent three months shopping from warehouse catalogs this year, something I will not do again. I bought so many things that I found it hard to keep track of who I got them for. Two weeks before Christmas I began wrapping them. It took me three days! Nope! Not again.
I really think at almost 77 years old (me) and 82 (my husband), that there really isn't much I need in the way of clothing, shoes, jewelry...wait—I, uh, love looking at jewelry in the lighted cases. The stones shine so pretty and it certainly catches my eye. I stand there and admire those shinny baubles. But, lets face it—I have so much pretty costume jewelry that I will never need another piece of glitter in my life time. Well, maybe a pretty pair of earrings, necklace or attractive ring on a special occasion now and then.
Getting back to Christmas; the best part of the holiday is going to church services and doing the candles in the darkened room at the end of the service. The Hallelujah chore singing their hearts out in harmony, and the joy of it all. My heart almost burst out of my chest with joy and love for Jesus and His Father, Jehovah God.
Having a great dinner together with all my family there, including my younger sister, Leasa, was also a highlight of the day. The only dark spot on the day was the absence of my middle son, Alen. This February 17th he will have been gone from us for three years. He died of a massive heart attack. Such a loss of life. There was an empty place at the table that will never be filled again. Enough sadness. Christmas turned out to be a wonderful day with my family, one that I look forward to every year.
For my writers group I wrote a Christmas poem and posted it on our Mountain Christian Church blog spot. It was called "Happy Birthday, Jesus." I have been writing poems for Thanksgiving and Christmas for several years now. They are always well received, although I do not know what the public thinks of them when they read them on our Portions of Grace blog. I know our writers group loves them.
Well, this is the end to a wonderful Sunday. Church services this morning, a long visit with our daughter after church and then two hours at my writers meeting. I got another devotion critiqued and approved for posting on the 27th of January, a day before my 77th birthday. So, now it is time to close this writing for now. Ten o'clock is my cut-off time for writing. I am tired anyway.
God bless all who are reading this blog. I hope you enjoyed it. Until another time, good night and blessings to you all.
Evelyn
Friday, November 25, 2016
THANKSGIVING
My husband, Charles and I went to Marie and Tom's house for our Thanksgiving dinner. Tom put the big 14 pound bird in his "air cooker" and in no time at all it came out brown and beautiful. It was so delicious! Marie had made some special potatoes from a recipe she got off the computer. She gets a lot of good recipes that way and tries them all. She's a great cook, I'm proud to say. As she grew up, I taught her all I knew about cooking and after she married Tom, she went on from there. She cooks healthy, stick-to-the-ribs food. Tom's physic is proof positive. Besides the turkey and potatoes, she made another computer recipe, sweet potato casserole which was out of this world good. Marie also made sauerkraut and kielbassa (spelled wrong, I know), string bean casserole (yummy), and gravy and oven rolls. Believe me, we ate hearty, some going back for seconds. I also brought over a new recipe that Marie had sent me called Cranberry Fluff. It was different, but delicious.
After dinner, we all sat around and talked for a while. My nephew, Andrew, came to dinner for the first time since his spouse passed away. He enjoyed the home-cooked meal since he admits he is no cook. I imagine he eats many prepared meals from the store. He looked healthy though. Marie and Andrew and I talked of many things, all positive. Charles and Tom preferred to watch the football game in the basement but they did come back up after the game was over and all five of us talked together in the living room.
Marie's "babies" made a few trips up and down the stairs to see who was doing all the talking. It was a delight to see Charlie and Rosalee, Marie's cats. Charlie is a long haired white with silver markings furry "baby" while Rosalee is white and black short-haired, marked very beautifully. She is more timid than Charlie. He is a lover of being held and petted by Marie. She has been a cat lover for most of her life since about five years old. She, like her Aunt Leasa, cannot do without a cat in the house. When she lost her last cat to renal failure last year, it was no time until she located Charlie and then a month later she got Rosalee. It took about a month for the two cats to get used to one another. Charlie chased Rosalee, who was younger than he, and they made the house a race course for their antics. Now, a year later, the two of them love one another and romp all over the house. Both of them love sleeping with Marie and Tom, either on the bed under the covers or under the bed. Two cats make for a happy home. Marie has photographed both her cats and they are the stars of her Facebook account. Just about anyone you ask on the Facebook pages knows the cats by name from their pictures.
Well, this is Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, 2016. It's been a quiet day and I have enjoyed my time on my blog. If you go to www.Portionsofgrace.blogspot.com, you can read my poem called THANKSGIVING that I posted there. I hope you will enjoy it. Until another time, may the Great God of Love, Jehovah, bless you all richly. Love, Evelyn
After dinner, we all sat around and talked for a while. My nephew, Andrew, came to dinner for the first time since his spouse passed away. He enjoyed the home-cooked meal since he admits he is no cook. I imagine he eats many prepared meals from the store. He looked healthy though. Marie and Andrew and I talked of many things, all positive. Charles and Tom preferred to watch the football game in the basement but they did come back up after the game was over and all five of us talked together in the living room.
Marie's "babies" made a few trips up and down the stairs to see who was doing all the talking. It was a delight to see Charlie and Rosalee, Marie's cats. Charlie is a long haired white with silver markings furry "baby" while Rosalee is white and black short-haired, marked very beautifully. She is more timid than Charlie. He is a lover of being held and petted by Marie. She has been a cat lover for most of her life since about five years old. She, like her Aunt Leasa, cannot do without a cat in the house. When she lost her last cat to renal failure last year, it was no time until she located Charlie and then a month later she got Rosalee. It took about a month for the two cats to get used to one another. Charlie chased Rosalee, who was younger than he, and they made the house a race course for their antics. Now, a year later, the two of them love one another and romp all over the house. Both of them love sleeping with Marie and Tom, either on the bed under the covers or under the bed. Two cats make for a happy home. Marie has photographed both her cats and they are the stars of her Facebook account. Just about anyone you ask on the Facebook pages knows the cats by name from their pictures.
Well, this is Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, 2016. It's been a quiet day and I have enjoyed my time on my blog. If you go to www.Portionsofgrace.blogspot.com, you can read my poem called THANKSGIVING that I posted there. I hope you will enjoy it. Until another time, may the Great God of Love, Jehovah, bless you all richly. Love, Evelyn
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