Cluck

 Recently, a question was posed on Facebook, wanting to know what made your hometown famous? Actually the post was written as "What is your hometown famous for?" But, that wording is worth  a whole other story!

I had the answer immediately......Chicken. Yes, my hometown is famous for its Chicken Restaurants. There are probably more chicken joints, in Southeast Kansas, than any other area of the country. One every few city blocks, I think. However, my hometown is most famous for two particular chicken restaurants, located across a two-lane road from each other. They are both famous for their longevity and widespread  popularity.

Chicken Annie's and Chicken Mary's boast similar menus, basically fried chicken and sides, and the locals always prefer one above the other. Mary's has always served spaghetti with their chicken and Annie's offers potato salad. As I was growing up, your family was either a Mary's fan or an Annie's devotee. Rarely was a family known to dine at both!

My family started eating at Chicken Annie's in the early 1950's. It was always packed, so Dad went in and gave them our name. We waited in the car until our name was called from the loud speaker attached to a pole, in the parking lot. I remember that the whole area smelled like grease and garlic. Waiting made me so hungry! 

Dining was in the Pichler's former family home, and we ate at a table, in one of the rooms. Family photographs were hung on the walls. Mary's, as you can imagine, had a similar set up. My order was always the same. I had the fifty cent (two pieces) dark meat meal, washed down with a Grape Nehi. 

The menu, over the past 75 years or so, has grown a bit larger, but it's still the crispy fried chicken that  most people request. Both restaurants are now housed in modern, accessible buildings. Grandpa Zernghast's picture no longer hangs from a nail on the wall. Yes, my home town is famous for its chicken, and I'm hungry for some, right now.

Dear Lord, we are thankful for our roots. Our past, the joys and the sorrows, is what has made us who we are. Thank you for the memories.

COLORIZED

It took me over a year to finish painting our kitchen walls and cabinets. I know timewise, that seems like an awfully long stretch, but it took me a bit longer, because I decided to paint the inside of the cabinet doors. Look, I'm over 70 years old, and it takes me a long time to do anything! Last fall, we hired a company to paint the outside of our home. The yellow color was dated.

Now, according to the design experts in the daily newspaper, we have a big problem. All of our recent color choices have centered around the color gray. Our house is "elephant ear", with white trim and our kitchen is "soft smoke". Gray, it seems, is out....way out, in decorating. Without knowing it, the Kincaids have committed a fashion faux pas.

We should have known better than to choose a trendy color. Several homes on our street are different shades of gray. But, color pallets are known to come and go. If you are old enough you will remember Avocado Green and Harvest Gold. Were they hot or what? Then, what about Country Blue? The interior of our home could have been mistaken for a robin's egg or an cheerful ocean! I went crazy over blue. 

So, gray is on it's way out. Seriously, so are we all! I'm too darn old to think about doing it any of these major projects again, just to have a trendier color scheme. Now, I am working on painting our front door.  It shouldn't take me over a month, maybe. Over the past 60 years, the door has been painted brown, black, red, green and lastly gray. Now, it's going to be bright yellow.

Lord, we find it hard to embrace changes. But, we know that  change is inevitable, and that it is not our plans that matter, it is Your plan. Teach us acceptance and remind us that we are blessed. 

Time after time.

I have a long time friend. When I say that she has been my friend for a long time, I mean it. Our friendship has been very special. 

We began our friendship, across an alley. Now we live hundreds of miles apart, but each and every phone conversation, we have had since, takes up right where we left off, the last time we talked. 

Once, I walked her home, when she fell and broke her arm in front of my house. We considered ourselves pretty great sidewalk skaters, but those metal wheels weren't very flexible, and the concrete was awfully hard. Friends support each other during the bad times.

She shared with me the first air-conditioning, I had ever experienced, in 100 degree summers. We rode our two-wheelers everywhere. And, those friends are there in the comfortable times.

Each of us had one sister, a mother and a father who made us feel loved and cared for. We have shared many thoughts and concerns, for each other, over many years. We are wives. We are mothers. We are grandmothers. We are friends.

Dear God, Thank you. Life must be very hard, without friends. I am blessed.

That spells MOTHER!

Because I have begun to write my own life story, I've become more than a bit reflective. My three a.m. thoughts, this morning, were of motherhood. 

Folks have written about motherhood, since the beginning of time. Not much was recorded about Eve. Judging from her children, we could say she had a 50% success rate. I've done much better, by that standard. Each of my four children are upstanding citizens and hard workers. They have never been charged with a major crime, or even spent time, in custody of the police. (At least, I am not aware of any such happenings.)

Jo, Beth, Amy and Meg's mother was an admirable role model. Mrs. March held the family together while her husband was off fighting in the American Civil War. In her spare time, she nursed the wounded and sewed for the troops. My accomplishments pale, next to her example. (Of course I had only one girl and three boys. I spent my spare time in the bleachers.)

Mrs. Bennett, the mom in Pride and Prejudice, raised five daughters. But, I'd only give her a C minus in my motherhood rating. Two of her daughters were downright goofy and one behaved very strangely. The two most successful girls, totally disregarded her advice. Her husband never came out of his study and she complained about her "nerves" incessantly. Talk about dysfunction! ( Well, I have other quirks, and thank goodness, my children ignored me, too.)

Looking back, could I have been a better mother? Certainly. If given a "do over", I would change many things. Hindsight keeps me up at night. However, this is fact, not fiction. My daughter is a model mother and my sons are exemplary fathers. I couldn't ask for anything more.

Dear Lord. Thank You for our many blessings. Life is not a destination. We are all on one long road trip. Guide us on our travels and help us to enjoy the journey. We praise Your Holy Name.

"I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a ..........."

 If you are reading this, you know that I enjoy writing. But, I am also a reader. Fiction is my favorite, but I also enjoy history and biographies. My last read was historical fiction. And, it was so interesting, I read it, cover to cover, in one delightful afternoon. (Yes, I am enjoying retirement.)

My current read, is an autobiography of an ordinary guy, a casual friend I have known for seven years. And, for an normally calm and personable fellow, I am finding his life story fascinating. Apparently, you can talk to someone. almost daily, and never really know what they have done, seen or believe. Who knew? 

So, this got me to thinking. Remember those "stories" we were required to write, every September, when we started a new year of school? The title was always, "What I Did Over Summer Vacation." Well, here's a thought. We should all write "What I Did In My Life" stories..........our autobiographies. 

All of us leave behind a paper trail of documents, census records, photographs and junk. And, your descendants can amass a ton of this stuff, and still know nothing about you. When most of us depart this world, we do not leave a true record of who we actually were. Writing your own story, would furnish , those who are interested, with a more accurate record of your life. Just give my idea a thought or two, then pick up a pencil or start typing.

I'll look forward to reading your story.

Good Lord. We are all on a journey and You are our Guide. Sometimes the travel is easy, but often we stumble. Our paths are varied and sometimes treacherous. You are our constant.
We praise your Holy Name.

If Houses Could Talk

 We had quite a scare yesterday. Scott announced at breakfast that the fridge was squeaking. This might seem odd, but I took it in stride. You see, about a year ago, our kitchen stove began intermittently squeaking, upon reaching it's programmed temperature setting. At that time, we called our trusty appliance repair man, Steve. He came out and turned the stove on. Then, he took a seat and waited until it started squeaking. Right on cue, it started squeaking. Apparently, a squeaking stove is normal, because Steve saw no reason to make any repairs. He charged us for a house call and went on his way. BTW, the stove is still squeaking.

So now it appeared as if the refrigerator had the same malady, so we made an appointment with Steve. Early this morning we were awakened by a much louder squeak. I recognized that noise as a bad battery on one of our alarms. So, I pulled the ladder from the garage and yanked down the smoke alarm and the carbon monoxide alarm. Both are located in the hallway, and by the time I got the ladder set up, the two of them were squeaking. Mission accomplished. No more squeaking.

But, later, I continued to hear the squeak from the fridge. Or did I? On closer review, the squeak was coming from the pantry, next to the fridge. A spare alarm, purchased at the same time as the hall alarms, (Scott buys by the bulk) was being stored in that cabinet. I removed that battery. The problem will be solved, after a trip to the home supply store, to purchase batteries, later this morning.

However, Steve is still scheduled to make an appearance today, at our home. The dishwasher is growling!

Did God. We are blessed to have so many modern conveniences. And, we are blessed to know someone who can repair them. Remind us to be thankful.

 

Konphuzdnanzi

Being an experienced senior citizen, I tend to watch a lot of "old folks" TV. My favorites include the Hallmark channels, some news/opinion shows and PBS. I call my preferences "old folks" TV, because almost all of the commercials are geared to my age group. (PBS theoretically has no commercials....only about 5 minutes at the end or beginning of the show, telling what companies are "bringing" the show to you. And, those aren't commercials? Go figure!)

Anyway, the commercials on the other channels are often for drugs. Now, I don't know about you, but I have always assumed that the my doctors know a lot more about medicine, than I will ever understand. I trust them. They went to Medical School. It wouldn't be my place, to suggest, that I be prescribed one of the medicines advertised on the latest Hallmark show. Not only would I not do such a thing, I couldn't. I'm at a loss to remember the names of these new wonder drugs, from commercial to commercial. The names of these new drugs make no sense and are unpronounceable. No lay person could repeat their names and benefits to their doctors. 

I love words and I am interested in their spellings, their definitions and their origins. So where are these drug peddlers coming up with these names? Even if I could remember Skirizi and Ubrelvy, there is no way to identify what they cure or what symptom they alleviate. 

Maybe someone out there could explain this new mystery to me? Should I be taking Apoquel or Tremfyant.

Precious Lord, we are blessed to be living in this enlightened era. Watch over us and guide us, as we negotiate what we do not understand. You are our constant and our hope.