Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Laundry in Olden Days
From the e-mail bag:
Years ago an Alabama grandmother gave the new bride the following recipe:
This is an exact copy as written and found in an old scrapbook - with spelling errors and all.
WASHING CLOTHES
Build fire in backyard to heat kettle of rain water.
Set tubs so smoke wont blow in eyes if wind is pert.
Shave one hole cake of lie soap in boilin water.
Sort things, make 3 piles
1 pile white,
1 pile colored,
1 pile work britches and rags.
To make starch, stir flour in cool water to smooth, then thin down with boiling water.
Take white things, rub dirty spots on board, scrub hard,
and boil, then rub colored don't boil just wrench and starch.
Take things out of kettle with broom stick handle, then wrench, and starch.
Hang old rags on fence.
Spread tea towels on grass.
Pore wrench water in flower bed. Scrub porch with hot soapy water. Turn tubs upside down.
Go put on clean dress, smooth hair with hair combs.
Brew cup of tea, sit and rock a spell and count your blessings.
Years ago an Alabama grandmother gave the new bride the following recipe:
This is an exact copy as written and found in an old scrapbook - with spelling errors and all.
WASHING CLOTHES
Build fire in backyard to heat kettle of rain water.
Set tubs so smoke wont blow in eyes if wind is pert.
Shave one hole cake of lie soap in boilin water.
Sort things, make 3 piles
1 pile white,
1 pile colored,
1 pile work britches and rags.
To make starch, stir flour in cool water to smooth, then thin down with boiling water.
Take white things, rub dirty spots on board, scrub hard,
and boil, then rub colored don't boil just wrench and starch.
Take things out of kettle with broom stick handle, then wrench, and starch.
Hang old rags on fence.
Spread tea towels on grass.
Pore wrench water in flower bed. Scrub porch with hot soapy water. Turn tubs upside down.
Go put on clean dress, smooth hair with hair combs.
Brew cup of tea, sit and rock a spell and count your blessings.
* * *
That may sound pretty far-fetched to you young-uns, but I’ve “been there–done that”, and have a love affair going with my washer and dryer. Here are my memories in rhyme on the subject:Woman’s Work
The gasoline powered washing machine
has just laid down and died.
We’ve gone back to the rub-board,
scraping knuckles, losing hide.
Use the barb-wire fence for clothesline,
socks and undies on the tree.
If the mule eats Daddy’s long-johns off the fence,
y’all don’t blame me!
Sprinkle down a stack of ironing
for tomorrow’s scheduled day.
Clean the lamp globe, fill the oil can,
say your prayers and hit the hay.
Rise and shine, daylight’s a-wasting,
prunes and oatmeal down the hatch.
Turn the coal oil on beforehand,
light the burner with a match.
Heat the iron til spit will sizzle,
wipe the soot on paper brown,
smooth the wrinkles quick and sure,
‘cause time will cool the metal down.
Feet and legs are tired and aching
standing too long in one spot.
Attitude’s becoming testy,
cheerfulness has long been shot.
Have you ever wished to go back
to those good old days of yore?
I remember them with love but
hope they’re gone forevermore.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
The gasoline powered washing machine
has just laid down and died.
We’ve gone back to the rub-board,
scraping knuckles, losing hide.
Use the barb-wire fence for clothesline,
socks and undies on the tree.
If the mule eats Daddy’s long-johns off the fence,
y’all don’t blame me!
Sprinkle down a stack of ironing
for tomorrow’s scheduled day.
Clean the lamp globe, fill the oil can,
say your prayers and hit the hay.
Rise and shine, daylight’s a-wasting,
prunes and oatmeal down the hatch.
Turn the coal oil on beforehand,
light the burner with a match.
Heat the iron til spit will sizzle,
wipe the soot on paper brown,
smooth the wrinkles quick and sure,
‘cause time will cool the metal down.
Feet and legs are tired and aching
standing too long in one spot.
Attitude’s becoming testy,
cheerfulness has long been shot.
Have you ever wished to go back
to those good old days of yore?
I remember them with love but
hope they’re gone forevermore.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Friday, August 25, 2006
Hope for Emancipation
Hope for Emancipation
Kids wait these days for summer with great anticipation:
three months of resting in the shade or going on "vacation".
When I was young, that dandy word was subject to translation.
In olden times, our summers held few pleasant expectations,
just scorching days of hoeing weeds, the slowest cultivation,
down long rows far from water, to the point of dehydration.
The sweat and toil we all endured, like slaves on old plantations,
was seldom cause for great concern of likely heat prostration.
The lips and tongue grew parched and dry for lack of salivation
and the dirty canvas water bag earned much appreciation.
When hoeing for the neighbors, a part-time occupation,
we earned our spending money, a spark of motivation.
As days crept toward September, with cause for exultation,
we gladly laid our hoes aside for formal education.
About our future plans and dreams, we had no reservations;
we'd make tracks far from this old farm right after graduation.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Kids wait these days for summer with great anticipation:
three months of resting in the shade or going on "vacation".
When I was young, that dandy word was subject to translation.
In olden times, our summers held few pleasant expectations,
just scorching days of hoeing weeds, the slowest cultivation,
down long rows far from water, to the point of dehydration.
The sweat and toil we all endured, like slaves on old plantations,
was seldom cause for great concern of likely heat prostration.
The lips and tongue grew parched and dry for lack of salivation
and the dirty canvas water bag earned much appreciation.
When hoeing for the neighbors, a part-time occupation,
we earned our spending money, a spark of motivation.
As days crept toward September, with cause for exultation,
we gladly laid our hoes aside for formal education.
About our future plans and dreams, we had no reservations;
we'd make tracks far from this old farm right after graduation.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Weird Weather
Since moving to the foothills of the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico almost seven years ago, I had been hearing of the “monsoon season” in July and August, but a lingering drought seemed to hold it at bay. With the average rainfall somewhere around nine inches, this was indeed the High Desert. Last winter’s snow was almost non-existent, not enough spring rain to sprout thistle seeds.
Then in the last two months, about 15 inches of rain has greened up our desert paradise. A local church sign says, “Welcome to Seattle NM.” Longtime residents say they have never seen so much green. Sounds of mowers and weed eaters compete with busy hummingbirds as neighbors try to keep the vegetation from getting out of hand. Friend Red, next door, says it smells like Hawaii.
Pecos, Texas, another desert, is also receiving large amounts of rain. But the eastern part of the state-- usually wet-- is now arid, with many wells drying up.
Maybe this is God’s way of reminding us that he is still the one in control.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Then in the last two months, about 15 inches of rain has greened up our desert paradise. A local church sign says, “Welcome to Seattle NM.” Longtime residents say they have never seen so much green. Sounds of mowers and weed eaters compete with busy hummingbirds as neighbors try to keep the vegetation from getting out of hand. Friend Red, next door, says it smells like Hawaii.
Pecos, Texas, another desert, is also receiving large amounts of rain. But the eastern part of the state-- usually wet-- is now arid, with many wells drying up.
Maybe this is God’s way of reminding us that he is still the one in control.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Thursday, August 17, 2006
A Life of Innocence
A Life of Innocence
1944
No pickets framed a graceful lawn on that low budget farm.
The yard was stickers, gravel, dirt and rocks.
Our toes were stubbed and bleeding, our foot soles tough as leather.
For "everyday" we wore no shoes or socks.
Two old mesquites stood out in front, affording small protection
from mid-day sun that wore our spirits thin.
'Twas there we placed our summer beds to catch the evening breezes
and escape the heat and swelter from within.
There oft I tried to count the stars that twinkled in the heavens
and slept the carefree sleep of innocence.
Although the preacher talked of sin, I hardly knew its meaning
and felt no grown-up need for penitence.
Those were the "good old days" for us because we had no worries.
For kids, no budget problems yet were known.
We always had some grub to eat, although it wasn't fancy,
with energy enough to see us grown.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
1944
No pickets framed a graceful lawn on that low budget farm.
The yard was stickers, gravel, dirt and rocks.
Our toes were stubbed and bleeding, our foot soles tough as leather.
For "everyday" we wore no shoes or socks.
Two old mesquites stood out in front, affording small protection
from mid-day sun that wore our spirits thin.
'Twas there we placed our summer beds to catch the evening breezes
and escape the heat and swelter from within.
There oft I tried to count the stars that twinkled in the heavens
and slept the carefree sleep of innocence.
Although the preacher talked of sin, I hardly knew its meaning
and felt no grown-up need for penitence.
Those were the "good old days" for us because we had no worries.
For kids, no budget problems yet were known.
We always had some grub to eat, although it wasn't fancy,
with energy enough to see us grown.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Going to the Dickens
Driving through a blinding rainstorm this week reminded me of the day we “went to the Dickens” during the summer of 1946.
Daddy’s brother, Charlie Gunn, lived near the little town of Dickens, maybe 60 miles southeast of Flomot, a long trip in the old ‘28 Buick pickup. You’ve never heard of a Buick pickup? Let me fill you in.
When he bought the Buick, it was a convertible, somewhat past its prime. On the farm, he needed a way to haul stuff, so replaced the turtle--or rumble-seat or whatever was on the rear--with a small wooden bed. Then a year or so later, he took the whole body off and installed a pickup cab that was wider than the frame. I have no idea how he made it work, but Daddy was a very inventive guy. He built a larger wooden bed with short sideboards but no fenders, which was where all five kids usually rode.
We spent Father’s Day with Uncle Charlie, Aunt Dove and their family, then started the long trek back home. Nearing Matador, we met a storm that included hail, and Daddy found a service station where he parked until the hail subsided. Then onward to adventure.
The road north to Turkey was paved, but west toward Flomot it was hardly even graveled. For about ten miles, the rear tires without fenders threw mud on the already sodden passengers in the pickup bed. Instead of a disaster, we considered it uproariously funny. Arriving home well after dark, we jumped in the horse tank at the windmill to wash off as much mud as possible, bringing the memorable day to a close–The Day We Went to the Dickens.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Daddy’s brother, Charlie Gunn, lived near the little town of Dickens, maybe 60 miles southeast of Flomot, a long trip in the old ‘28 Buick pickup. You’ve never heard of a Buick pickup? Let me fill you in.
When he bought the Buick, it was a convertible, somewhat past its prime. On the farm, he needed a way to haul stuff, so replaced the turtle--or rumble-seat or whatever was on the rear--with a small wooden bed. Then a year or so later, he took the whole body off and installed a pickup cab that was wider than the frame. I have no idea how he made it work, but Daddy was a very inventive guy. He built a larger wooden bed with short sideboards but no fenders, which was where all five kids usually rode.
We spent Father’s Day with Uncle Charlie, Aunt Dove and their family, then started the long trek back home. Nearing Matador, we met a storm that included hail, and Daddy found a service station where he parked until the hail subsided. Then onward to adventure.
The road north to Turkey was paved, but west toward Flomot it was hardly even graveled. For about ten miles, the rear tires without fenders threw mud on the already sodden passengers in the pickup bed. Instead of a disaster, we considered it uproariously funny. Arriving home well after dark, we jumped in the horse tank at the windmill to wash off as much mud as possible, bringing the memorable day to a close–The Day We Went to the Dickens.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Judgment and Hope
Judgment and Hope
(Isaiah 66)
This is what the Lord says: Heaven is my throne
and earth my footstool — what more do I need?
Where is the house you will build for me and where my resting place?
My hands made all these things without a seed.
This is the one whom I esteem: He’s meek, contrite in spirit,
and trembles at my word with humble heart.
The rituals you offer without the due respect
are abominations of the vilest sort.
Hear the word of God, you faithful who tremble at his word,
ignore your brothers who exclude and taunt.
Because you serve me, suffer long this ignorant abuse.
Their hurtful words will soon come back to haunt.
They will be put to shame, will be repaid in kind;
the Lord will punish their unrighteous deeds.
And to the faithful remnant he will give eternal life,
his holy treasure trove will fill their needs.
Isaiah gives a prophecy, the coming of the Christ,
in words that he could not then understand:
Before the pains of labor come, she gives birth to a son,
made possible by God’s own righteous hand.
Who has heard or seen such things except through faith in him?
Can a nation be brought forth in just a day?
Zion gives birth to her children at the onset of her labor,
and the law of Christ gives us the living way.
Three-thousand souls became the church, the new Jerusalem,
on the day of Pentecost, as prophesied.
A remnant of the Jews believed, then followed his example,
and in his blood God’s wrath was satisfied.
Rejoice with new Jerusalem, you who have mourned for her;
nurse at her breasts, drink deeply of her truth.
Delight in her abundance that overflows to others,
as a mother comforts all, both babes and youth.
Your spiritual lives will prosper, a flooding stream of wealth.
Peace like a river floods your banks with joy,
a peace above the understanding of the human mind,
beyond the strength of Satan to destroy.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
(Isaiah 66)
This is what the Lord says: Heaven is my throne
and earth my footstool — what more do I need?
Where is the house you will build for me and where my resting place?
My hands made all these things without a seed.
This is the one whom I esteem: He’s meek, contrite in spirit,
and trembles at my word with humble heart.
The rituals you offer without the due respect
are abominations of the vilest sort.
Hear the word of God, you faithful who tremble at his word,
ignore your brothers who exclude and taunt.
Because you serve me, suffer long this ignorant abuse.
Their hurtful words will soon come back to haunt.
They will be put to shame, will be repaid in kind;
the Lord will punish their unrighteous deeds.
And to the faithful remnant he will give eternal life,
his holy treasure trove will fill their needs.
Isaiah gives a prophecy, the coming of the Christ,
in words that he could not then understand:
Before the pains of labor come, she gives birth to a son,
made possible by God’s own righteous hand.
Who has heard or seen such things except through faith in him?
Can a nation be brought forth in just a day?
Zion gives birth to her children at the onset of her labor,
and the law of Christ gives us the living way.
Three-thousand souls became the church, the new Jerusalem,
on the day of Pentecost, as prophesied.
A remnant of the Jews believed, then followed his example,
and in his blood God’s wrath was satisfied.
Rejoice with new Jerusalem, you who have mourned for her;
nurse at her breasts, drink deeply of her truth.
Delight in her abundance that overflows to others,
as a mother comforts all, both babes and youth.
Your spiritual lives will prosper, a flooding stream of wealth.
Peace like a river floods your banks with joy,
a peace above the understanding of the human mind,
beyond the strength of Satan to destroy.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Writing for Fun
When I first scribbled a few lines of Texas memoirs in rhyme for my kids in about 1990, I could never had guessed it would lead to a writing class for seniors in Albuquerque sixteen years later. Taught by two professional journalists--volunteers at Bear Canyon Senior Center--this is one of the most fun activities I've ever been involved in. (They even taught me it's ok to end a sentence with a preposition!)
At the beginning of each class, Larry and Rob give us a few pointers on various subjects pertaining to writing, and the remaining time is spent reading our own stuff, followed by helpful critiques. What a great way to learn, and also to make new friends! But if I had known how many rules there were about writing, I probably would never have thought about trying to write a book.
Rob and Larry also do most of the work that constitutes the Southwest Writers organization, taking turns each year as president and vice-president. Besides two very interesting meetings each month with various knowledgeable speakers, there are also workshops of all sorts to help people learn to write and sell their work, critique groups and writing contests.
Southwest Writers info is available to anyone worldwide through its web page, www.southwestwriters.com. Check it out!
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
At the beginning of each class, Larry and Rob give us a few pointers on various subjects pertaining to writing, and the remaining time is spent reading our own stuff, followed by helpful critiques. What a great way to learn, and also to make new friends! But if I had known how many rules there were about writing, I probably would never have thought about trying to write a book.
Rob and Larry also do most of the work that constitutes the Southwest Writers organization, taking turns each year as president and vice-president. Besides two very interesting meetings each month with various knowledgeable speakers, there are also workshops of all sorts to help people learn to write and sell their work, critique groups and writing contests.
Southwest Writers info is available to anyone worldwide through its web page, www.southwestwriters.com. Check it out!
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Three Days of Joy
For the last three days, I have tried to think how I would have felt at age nine with no mother, my dad out of town on business, and staying with an almost total stranger. I would have been a basket case.
Julia, on the other hand, has been a delight. Every activity was an adventure. She wanted to help me clean Molly and Tony’s house, learn to play piano, climb the tallest tree, catch a bunny rabbit, cook spaghetti and whoopie pies.
Helping me move dirt, she found “cute” worms to play with and build new homes for. Using a sewing machine to make herself a grasshopper skirt from old blue jeans was a new, unexpected experience that seemed to elevate her to adult status, at least for awhile. She even got excited about winning a loaf of bread in the drawing at a writers’ meeting. She reminds me of my youngest granddaughter, Rachel, so full of life and love.
Julia is one tough little gal. On the first night, she cried a bit for her dad, but when it came time to sleep all alone in the king-size bed, she found it luxurious as wonderland. She found delight in tending a small fire in Red’s tepee next door, picking veggies from her garden and romping with the dog, chasing butterflies and crickets, beating me at card games.
But the biggest thrill of all was when her dad’s pickup came into view. Thank you, Frank, for a special three days with a special little girl.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Julia, on the other hand, has been a delight. Every activity was an adventure. She wanted to help me clean Molly and Tony’s house, learn to play piano, climb the tallest tree, catch a bunny rabbit, cook spaghetti and whoopie pies.
Helping me move dirt, she found “cute” worms to play with and build new homes for. Using a sewing machine to make herself a grasshopper skirt from old blue jeans was a new, unexpected experience that seemed to elevate her to adult status, at least for awhile. She even got excited about winning a loaf of bread in the drawing at a writers’ meeting. She reminds me of my youngest granddaughter, Rachel, so full of life and love.
Julia is one tough little gal. On the first night, she cried a bit for her dad, but when it came time to sleep all alone in the king-size bed, she found it luxurious as wonderland. She found delight in tending a small fire in Red’s tepee next door, picking veggies from her garden and romping with the dog, chasing butterflies and crickets, beating me at card games.
But the biggest thrill of all was when her dad’s pickup came into view. Thank you, Frank, for a special three days with a special little girl.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Prostate Surgery
A recent e-mail about erectile disfunction got me to thinking about how many men are afraid to have prostate cancer surgery they need for fear of becoming impotent. Rest easy--there's nothing to fear. In recent years, urologists have learned that all the nerves controlling erection are located in the covering of the prostate, which can be peeled back for removal of the problem area, then re-attached. This procedure takes a little more time, involves more blood loss, but is well worth the effort.
Surgery for a simple enlarged prostate usually is not removal of the gland, but reeming out some of the unneeded contents without disturbing the nerves. If you live long enough, it may eventually enlarge again and the procedure can be repeated.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Surgery for a simple enlarged prostate usually is not removal of the gland, but reeming out some of the unneeded contents without disturbing the nerves. If you live long enough, it may eventually enlarge again and the procedure can be repeated.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
