KEEP WALKING

March 29, 2016

By Olivene Godfrey

Most young, healthy people take "walking" for granted.  As I have aged, I first began using a cane.  Then, it progressed until I needed a "walker", to get around.  Now, I use a Rollator most of the time in our house.  I have two standard walkers for small, confined spaces.  Sometimes, I "fuss" at Barry and Tam because they make me use the walker and walk instead of pushing me in my wheelchair.  They tell me if I stop walking with the walker, I'll soon not be able to walk at all.  That usually stops my "fussing" as I don't want to be confined to the wheelchair.

I have had several sessions over the years with the Home Health therapists and more recently, sessions with a therapist at a gym.  I'll continue following the advice of Barry and Tam.  I certainly don't want to be unable to walk at all.  Since I'm 87, I presume I'm pretty healthy.  I guess I'm like many oldsters, I rise early and spend some of my time "dozing" in my recliner.  I read or write and watch a little TV.

In a week or so, I have a three month recheck with my primary care doctor.  I have a list of subjects to discuss with her.  The most pressing subject at the present is that I am extremely nervous for no apparent reason.  Maybe we'll find the answer at the doctor visit.

See you next time.  Comments welcome.  (Edited and typed by Tam.)

HAPPY EASTER

March 23, 2016

By Olivene Godfrey

As I've grown older, I think often of my childhood.  This Easter week, I've recalled memories of early years of my family and I.  My folks bought four acres of land in what later became East Ridge, Tennessee.  The young families that were settling in the area decided they needed a church.  My parents were part of the group who started meeting on Sunday's in a frame building that I was told had been the young neighborhood's town hall.

I remember going to Sunday School classes at the church.  The pastor was a man I remember only as Brother Jones.  Quite soon, the membership grew and eventually became known as Jones Memorial Church.  My parents came from a long line of Methodist.  My maternal granddad was a Methodist preacher.  A few years later my daddy was called to preach while teaching a young mens Sunday School class.

My daddy continued to work for awhile at his job while he and my late mother were active members of Jones Memorial Church.  I remember when my mother would make my sister's and I pretty dresses to wear to church at Easter.  We always had new white shoes.  (Fashion etiquette said no white shoes before Easter.  I hear that is still the fashion rule.)

Now that I'm no longer physically able to attend church service, I watch a televised Sunday service of the United Centenary First Methodist Church.  The church sanctuary is beautiful with stain glass windows and pipe organs.  The sermons are just as inspiring as the ones were in the old frame church where my daddy preached during my early years.

I wish for each of you to have a Happy Easter and all good things.

See you next time.  Comments welcome.  (Edited and typed by Tam.)

IN NEED OF A SCARECROW

March 17, 2016

By Olivene Godfrey

Here in Georgia's high country, spring is busting out all over.  Our crooked pear tree is covered with pretty white blossoms, promising another crop of delicious pears, if the crows don't devour them first.  We need one or more scarecrow to scare the troublesome crows away.

A few years ago I tried to make pear preserves which was a huge mistake.  I mentioned my attempt one spring and our friend, Kym and her mother, made some delicious preserves.  After several hours of preparing and cooking the preserves, Kym said, "no way" she'd ever make them again.

We recently had our favorite landscaper come out to clean the yard and prune the shrubbery along with our large crepe myrtle.  So, now we are ready for Mother Nature to take over, Lord willing, and we don't have more frosty weather.

Barry keeps the lawn looking pretty with his riding lawnmower.  He enjoys using the lawnmower, not so much the weed eating, but he does it anyway.

News from our kitchen and dining room - We are enjoying eating Lays baked potato chips which have less fat than the traditional potato chips.  Barry and I think the baked ones taste more like potatoes.

See you next time.  Comments welcome.  (Edited and typed by Tam.)

MY CONFESSION

March 11, 2016

By Olivene Godfrey

I have a confession to make.  I have became a chocolate chip cookie addict.  For sometime, Barry and Tam have suspected this and if they ask what I would do if I didn't have a cookie for a lunch or supper dessert, my reply is that they don't want to know, as it would not be a pretty sight!

For most of my life, I was a lover of rich desserts.  I was always a tiny person and never gained an ounce of weight.  To shorten the confession, I will sum it up by telling you as I aged I was diagnosed with diabetes type II and had become over weight.  I could no longer eat my luscious desserts.

Then, sometime ago, I discovered Ingle's bakery's chocolate chip cookies.  Later, Barry started doing the shopping and discovered toll house frozen cookies to bake at home.  So, I started eating a cookie after lunch and another one after supper.  My blood sugar remained good so I felt free to indulge myself.  Then Barry would bake the frozen cookies when we were low on Ingle's cookies.

A few times, like Friday, we ran out of the bakery cookies.  Fortunately, Tam baked a pan of the frozen cookies just before lunch, or I'm afraid I would have pitched a fit.

I've read that chocolate chip cookies are the favorite cookie of America.

Sometimes, Barry, who inherited my love for rich desserts, will eat one of them.  As I eat my cookie, I am content and satisfied.

See you next time.  Comments welcome.  (Edited and typed by Tam.)

MORE MEMORIES

March 7, 2016

By Olivene Godfrey

"It's crying time again...."  I can feel the familiar pollen invasion in my sinus.  One recent day the tree pollen count was over 2,000.  The urge to sneeze or blow your nose no matter where you are is not pleasant.  For instance, while Tam's daughter, Carrie was cutting my hair last week, I had a strong urge to blow my nose.  Carrie had to step out of the room and I asked Tam for a kleenex which took care of the problem temporarily.

I dreamed last night of the days long ago when young people would "drag main" in Dalton, Georgia and girls would stroll along the sidewalks.  When the young men came home after World War II had ended they joined the game, too.  Back then people of all ages would stroll and window shop on Saturday.  I remember those days well, when I would see old friends.

Then, the malls were built and downtown became a ghost town.  In recent years downtown has opened specialty shops and has special events.  So now the downtown area is once again a place to shop and socialize.

Incidentally, during World War II and for several years after the war, taxi-cabs charged .15 cents to take you anywhere you needed to go in town.  We didn't have a car during those years, so we either walked or called a cab to take us where we needed to go.

See you next time.  Comments welcome.  (Edited and typed by Tam.)