Monthly Archives: April 2011

As I began to think about my writing today, I wondered through the pages of my mind. What story was I going to tell you? I know some of my readers look forward to stories about their ancestors and the generations before them. Some like to look at the old pictures that accompany the writings. Some look forward to the simple reading of short stories. Then I began to think about life in general and the journey that you and I are on….the journey of life.

I began to think about my own life’s journey….where I’ve been….what I’ve done…who I’ve been with….and where I’m going. I was abruptly reminded in my spirit….A journey of a 1,000 miles begins with a first step. Some of you, as I often do, wonder what is the journey? Where are you going? What will you do with your life? Truthfully, those are some challenging questions for a lot of us today. And not just today, but people have been asking those questions for many years. I’m certain my father, my grandparents, aunts, uncles, husband, all of those who have gone before me asked the same questions we ask today.

On days that I am challenged with these type questions as well as the issues of life  that always seem to get in the way, I try to remember and dwell on my life long bible verse, Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” ….and as you read on to verses 12-14a … Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity.  If we just take a moment and think about those verses we will begin to rejoice and see things in a different light. And you know as well as I do …..we have to do this over and over again….Not because we have to remind God, but because we have to keep reminding ourselves….He does have a plan.

This reminds me of a simple story I read one day and I have never forgotten it. Of course there are days that I do forget….but truly it is in the back of my mind. Today I was once again reminded of it and now I want to share it with you.

The Farmer’s Donkey

One day a farmer’s donkey fell into a dry well. The animal cried pitifully for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do for his poor donkey. Finally, he concluded that the well was too deep, and it really needed to be covered up; besides the donkey was old and it would be a lot of trouble to get him out of the deep pit. The farmer decided that it was not worth trying to retrieve the animal so he asked his neighbors to help him fill in the well and bury the donkey.

They all grabbed shovels and began to toss dirt into the well. The donkey immediately realized what was happening and he began to weep horribly. But then all of a sudden he got real quiet…. A few shovel loads of dirt later, the farmer looked down the well, astonished at what he saw. With every shovel of dirt that hit the donkey’s back the donkey would shake it off, and step on top of it.

As the neighbor’s and farmer continued to shovel dirt on top of the donkey, he would continue to shake it off, and take a step up. Pretty soon the donkey shook off the last shovel full of dirt, took a step up, and walked right out of the well.

                                                ….Unknown Author

You see when we are looking for answers… looking for direction, if we just take a step up we may be surprised where we might land.

For me personally there have been many things in my life that have set me back. And I am here to tell you I have not understood most of what has happened to me….sexual child abuse, the loss of my first love because my parents were against it, childhood pregnancy, marriage separation, divorces, the death of my late husband, the death of my father and all my grandparents at an early age….so many heart related things….and the list could go on and on. At the time these things happened to me, I didn’t think I would be able to bear the pain or the loss. But through it all, somehow, I survived. The journey changed! Yet through the pain, some of my greatest weaknesses have become my greatest strength.  I am no longer the same person that I was years ago and I am no longer the same person today that I was yesterday. And, I know I am still not the person God intends for me to be…. I am still under construction!  And you can be sure of one thing…. God doesn’t make junk! We are made in His image!

So now when I stop and ask the question, “Why?”…  “Why me?”…  I hear the words come back to me as….”Why not you?” It’s all part of the plan…. the plan God has for me. Oh I’m sure I have taken some wrong turns, made some wrong decisions and even gone around a few mountains more than once. But I do believe God will get me back on course if I take the step. Sure, I still have many questions….and trust me, I am anxiously waiting for the answers.

Each of us is on a journey… yet a different journey… our own journey.  During the course, we all have our challenges. And I’m sure we even stop and ask our own question, “Why?”  But God has the ultimate plan. So when you are down or uncertain…. take a step up. Remember the farmer’s donkey, he could have stood still in the well and been buried alive….yet the idea came to him to step up…and then he stepped out! The world around him was amazed! Can you see it? The world around him was not interested in his survival. They were to busy filling up the hole….doing only what was asked of them… nothing more… nothing less.

A journey of a 1,000 miles starts with the first step. Think about this….the doors to a grocery store will not open until WE take the first step on to the mat in front of it. We take the step and the door will open! God is there to direct our steps, but we have to be willing to take it…step it out. If we take the wrong step, He will get us back on course… (Jeremiah 29: 11-14a). And as we step out, we will amaze all of those around us!

This article is dedicated to all of those who are struggling with life issues.

 I offer my services to write memoirs and life stories of you and your loved ones. It’s as simple as sitting on a front porch sharing story after story about your life and your loved ones as you relax in a rocking chair, chattering away about what you know best….your loved ones.

Please continue to read my blog  http://rockingchairchatter.com and be sure to keep a watch for my new website  http://www.myfrontporchfriends.com/ as we continue to write our stories.

Enjoyed the chat,

Lorraine

Lorraine McFarland lives in Plant City, Florida. She is a professional writer specializing in memoirs, life story writing, and capturing memories of your loved ones.

Copyright, April 2011 by Lorraine McFarland. The author retains sole copyright to her contributions to this article.

Grandpa Pone with Emma & Bill

As I walked outside early this morning, I looked up at the full moon shining ever so brightly. The ground all around me was lit up as if someone had placed much brighter bulbs in the street lights that line the street in front of my house.  I began to think about my grandpa Pone and the stories I have heard about his morning hunting adventures. How did he see in the darkness so very early in the mornings? Maybe he used a lantern. Surely they didn’t have flashlights back then! How I wished that there was a phone in heaven so I could call and ask him questions about his morning adventures and of course let him know that he was on my mind and always in my heart. Now wouldn’t that be ever so neat? Just think how busy that phone line would be.

I remember my mother telling me that many years ago, when she was a young girl, how he would get up first thing every morning and go hunting. He would always hunt squirrel, rabbit or some other breakfast meat to put on the table for the morning meal. And interesting enough he would always come home with results. He and my grandmother Doris would then clean the game and she would cook it up for the same day’s breakfast meal; without fail they always had meat on the table.  I am told breakfast was their main meal of the day.

So let me ask you, where has life taken us …to boxes of cold cereal, instant microwave meals, snack bars, fast food at a drive thru or some other quick solution for our family’s breakfast meal? Have we lost the art of yesterday? If only we had a time machine that would give us access to the past. How different it would be to see for ourselves what it must have been like….back in the day. The day where everyone had to farm, hunt and supply for there families off of the land. Can you even begin to imagine what a typical day would be like? Can you imagine your man having to get up so very early and go hunting before you could prepare breakfast …before he went off to work? I personally think this generation might have some challenges surviving in such grueling times. And for certain, our children would be late for school! Can you imagine only for a moment?

Well, one of the things I really enjoyed about Pone’s hunting adventures is that he had two pet squirrels. Their names were Emma and Bill. I would say those were two really smart squirrels! Why, because they chose to be at the opposite end of the barrel…if you know what I mean. Actually the squirrels were given to Pone by a neighbor there in Ruskin and he named them after his best friends, Emma and Bill. I am sure that was an honor in those days. I can’t say that I would think it was an honor….but obviously, times were different then. I guess you really had to be there to appreciate such a thing.

Mom tells me that he would take the two pet squirrels hunting with him. There’s probably nothing like having ‘live decoys’ with you when you hunt. Of course I am not a hunter and I can’t say that I have even known any true die hard hunters in my time, but I could imagine using live decoys. No wonder he was so successful at bringing home the game… squirrel that is!

Well I bet if he were alive today he could tell us some real stories (some real doozy’s is what I would call them) of his hunting experiences. You know….like the one that got away. I can just hear him now going on and on with his stories.

So yes I think I have to agree, when I heard my parents talk about…. “back in the day, when times were so tough….I use to….”  I would think, here we go again! Surely you have heard those very words. Maybe you even rolled your eyes back into your head and had the same thoughts…. ‘Here we go again, another hard time story’. Much like me, you may have even thought they were making it up. They were trying to make you feel sorry for them or for some other unknown psychological reason. But truly, we should sit down and ask them about their childhood, about our grandparents, great grandparents, and alike. I am sure you will be amazed at some of their stories; you may even believe some of those stories you rolled your eyes at. You may find even the simplest of stories are interesting and very entertaining.

Gosh how I wish there was a phone in heaven! But at least I have a story and a photo to cherish…. And I can share with you the story about my grandpa Pone and his two pet squirrels, Emma and Bill.

This article is dedicated to: Amos Venson Turner “Pone” (Dec 23, 1908 to June 5, 1967) …my grandpa Pone.

I offer my services to write memoirs and life stories of you and your loved ones. It’s as simple as sitting on a front porch sharing story after story about your life and your loved ones as you relax in a rocking chair, chattering away about what you know best….your loved ones.

Please continue to read my blog  http://rockingchairchatter.com and be sure to keep a watch for my new website  http://www.myfrontporchfriends.com/ as we continue to write our stories.

Enjoyed the chat,

Lorraine

Lorraine McFarland lives in Plant City, Florida. She is a professional writer specializing in memoirs, life story writing, and capturing memories of your loved ones.

Copyright, April 2011 by Lorraine McFarland. The author retains sole copyright to her contributions to this article.

There I was sitting in the old wooden swing that hung so gracefully from a rusty red and white candy stripped metal frame. It was the frame from an old swing set my twin bothers, Ronnie and Donnie, and I had when we were younger. Our dad had taken the frame and converted it by hanging what I call a porch swing on it. Many a day my brothers and I would sit anxiously in that swing while we waited on our dad to come home so we could ask his permission to go somewhere or do something with our friends. Mom was notorious for telling us we would have to get our dad’s approval for most everything we had asked to do. At times we thought it was her way of saying “no”; knowing that our dad may not show up in time for us to pop the question to him.  But regardless, we had the faith of a child and sat there waiting on him for what seemed like hours and sometimes days. I say days because at times it was days before we seen him. You see my father had a drinking problem and his best friend was a can of beer or a bottle of whiskey. As a result, there were times he didn’t come home until wee hours of the morning; long after we were in bed.

But this particular day it was different, I knew for certain my dad would be pulling into the drive momentarily. As I sat there swinging my baby brother, the anticipation was building within me moment by moment while waiting for the car to pull into our long narrow driveway. Without a doubt, I knew the day had finally come that I would have a sister.

My three brothers, Ronnie, Donnie and Rodger, were there that day. But somehow the day appeared to be just an ordinary day to them. Ronnie and Donnie were most likely inside tearing up something, which seemed to be a normal routine for them.  They were identical twins, almost three years younger than me. I loved them in my own way, yet at the very same time I resented them. In my eyes they were always the center of attention regardless of what they did or did not do. Everyone was always goo goo over them because they looked just a like. As the jealous sister, I would wonder what in the world was wrong with everyone; had they not seen that they were just two mischievous boys? So they were twins, big deal! As a sibling I truly did not see the uniqueness that everyone else saw….I only saw two irritating brothers. On the other hand, my baby brother Rodger was a sweetheart in my eyes. But, oh how I had wished he had been a girl the day he was born. In fact, to this day I tease him about his curly hair. He is the only one of us kids that was blessed with curls. Therefore, I tell him it’s because he was suppose to be a girl….then I get the look. You know the one!

I was 10 years old when Rodger was born. Already having two brothers who were the best of friends, I longed and wished for a baby sister. When the news came that a new little brother had arrived I was consumed with disappointment. It was as if I had been hit hard in the stomach and could barely breathe. My dad had tricked me, knowing how bad I wanted a sister, he initially told me it was a girl. Then after my excitement, he had to tell me the real truth. But truthfully, once they brought my baby brother home from the hospital and I saw his precious little face so innocently looking up at me, I knew at that very moment that I would love him unconditionally. I became his little mother. When he was old enough to walk and talk he would come into my bedroom at night and ask, “Sissy, can I sleep with you?” And of course I would always agree. We were buddy’s. Basically everywhere you saw me Rodger would typically be in my lap or sitting right next to me. If he  got in trouble I would be right there to defend him or pick him up and console his hurt feelings. My mother was forever reprimanding me for taking up for him. I truly couldn’t stand to see my baby brother get into trouble. Obviously, I did spoil him rotten.

For some reason I continued longing to have a sister to play with and to share my deepest secrets with, much like the relationship I had witnessed between the twins. Of course I learned later in life there is a “special bond” that is present between identical twins. Although as a young child I did not understand such a bond. All I knew was… I was the outcast… the odd ball… the only girl… and I really didn’t like it.

As I continued to sit there on the swing that day thoughts ran through my mind as to what my new sister would be like. Oh we had seen each other in our earlier years but it was so brief and seldom we really never had time to get to know one another. I wondered if she was as anxious to have a sister as I was. After all, she had a brother and no sisters; so of course she must be longing for a sister as well.

My mom and dad had driven to Nashville, Tennessee, to load up my Aunt Leona’s  belongings and bring her and her two children back to Florida with them. Apparently my aunt had been living in an abusive marriage due to her  husband’s excessive drinking.  As a result of the abusive lifestyle, my aunt knew she had no choice but to move to Florida where the rest of her family lived. Little did I know my aunt, like my very own father, also struggled with drinking. Both of them liked the bottle a little too much; as did a lot of my relatives.

Finally, the long awaited time had come. The familiar old 1961 green Chevrolet turned into the driveway, pulling behind it a trailer full of the personal belongings of my aunt and her two children. My heart leaped with joy. I could hardly contain myself. At that time I did not realize the brokenness they all must have felt, leaving behind a home, a husband, and a father. All I knew was I would finally have a sister.

As my cousin Diana jumped out of the car we ran to one another and embraced each other tightly. I knew without a doubt, she was my new sister and we both were going to be all right. Her brother Billy, ran to the door calling out for Ronnie and Donnie; anxious to run and play after a long 700 mile trip. So not only did I gain a sister, but I also gained an additional brother, Billy.  I have to admit he was a real sweetie….and a cut up to beat the band. There was so much joy in my heart it really didn’t matter anymore how many brothers I had. And now Rodger had another little mother to help spoil him; he for sure didn’t mind all the extra attention.

Only moments later Mama Mac and Daddy Humpy pulled into the driveway. They were anxious to embrace their daughter and make certain she and her two children were alright. How they must have felt knowing their daughter had been living in an abusive marriage, taking beatings from another person who had claimed to love her… and to allow the children to witness such behavior. I can truly say, even to this day, I could not begin to imagine what that lifestyle must have been like for my aunt.

As we all turned and walked into the house, love, happiness and sadness was present in the air. But I was thankful for one thing; although my father liked the bottle he did not physically abuse my mother or any of us children. And as for my new sister, we were going to be just fine and we would be the best sisters anyone could ask for. Little did we know at that moment how much we really had in common. We both lived in a dysfunctional family due to alcohol and we both longed for the comfort of having a sister, a best friend and a confidant.

As time went on Diana and Billy spent a lot of time at our house; sometimes they would stay for weeks at a time. And it was perfectly alright for all of us. Sure we had a house full, but the love we shared was so wonderful we didn’t mind the small living arrangements. At times there were 8 of us in our small little house of only 1100 square feet and 1 small bathroom. But somehow we managed just fine. Isn’t it amazing what love can do….and you never think anything of it? It’s just like air conditioning, we didn’t have any back then and we didn’t miss it a bit. We just turned on all the fans and went on with our lives.

Although many years have now come and gone, Diana and I are still to this day sisters! And yes it’s true, we do have similar childhood stories but we share a love that no one can destroy. In my eyes…she is my big sister…she has been there for me… through the good times…the bad times…the tears…and the laughter. I could never ask for a better sister. I love her dearly.

I must also tell you, I love all 3 of my brothers dearly and I would not trade any one of them for a sister! ….as for Billy…I love him like a brother!

This article is dedicated to: Leona Edna McFarland Laney Ibex (Sept 23,1932 – Dec 6, 1995) My Aunt Leona.

I offer my services to write memoirs and life stories of you and your loved ones. It’s as simple as sitting on a front porch sharing story after story about your life and your loved ones as you relax in a rocking chair, chattering away about what you know best….your loved ones.

Please continue to read my blog  http://rockingchairchatter.com and be sure to keep a watch for my new website  http://www.myfrontporchfriends.com/ as we continue to write our stories.

Enjoyed the chat,

Lorraine

Lorraine McFarland lives in Plant City, Florida. She is a professional writer specializing in memoirs, life story writing, and capturing memories of your loved ones.

Copyright, April 2011 by Lorraine McFarland. The author retains sole copyright to her contributions to this article.

Mama Mac and Lorraine

Memories come and memories go, but true memories last a lifetime. They go back as far as we can remember to a time where we put a face, a description and a feeling to it; other memories are those you know in your spirit that happened and you can somewhat describe it, yet no one can verify it for you. For instance, I remember…I was still in diapers, sitting in a play pen and a woman with dark hair was taking clothes off the clothes line, such as towels and diapers, and tossing them on me as I played. I remember the laughter in the air and the clean smell of the freshly laundered clothes all around me. Yet when I asked my mother, thinking all along it was her, she did not remember any such incident. Now that I know it wasn’t my mother, I have come to believe it must have been my Grandmother Doris during one of those special times I spent with her and my Grandpa Pone. Strangely enough when I smell that scent I am reminded of the memory….a memory without a face; only dark hair and laughter.

And then there was my Mama Mac, my father’s mother. Her true name was Inez Pearl McCowan McFarland but everyone called her Mama Mac.  Although it was rare, I use to love to spend the night at her house and sleep on her fresh clean sheets. What a treat that was. I remember the crispness of Mama Mac’s sheets…the special hand embroidered pillow cases and the matching embroidered facing of the top sheet. Ya’ll my grandmother ironed her sheets and most likely used a light starch, they were so crisp and taunt you could bounce a coin off of them. When you crawled into the bed they were cool to touch and smelled absolutely remarkable. I felt like royalty when I would get into the bed. Although it was her bed, we never slept together. I had it all to myself….just me and my little imagination.  I think she must have heard vicious stories about me and the fact that I slept all over the bed. My mother use to say I kicked like a mule. So Mama Mac would go in the back bedroom and sleep on the extra twin bed in the room with Daddy Humpy.

But just before bedtime I would always take a bath in her ‘claw tub’; another unique experience. I would pretend like I was Cleopatra…Royalty…being treated like a Queen. My grandmother would put bubble bath in the tub for me and the bubbles would come up pass my chin. In those old claw tubs there is no overflow drain under the faucet so you could fill the tub as deep as you wanted, or in my case, as high as your head would allow and still be able to breathe and of course scoot down and recline against its sloping back. I then visualized maidens around me fanning me with large feathered fans. Let me tell you…that was the life as far as I was concerned. Enjoying the relaxation and the smoothness of the bubbles against my skin while living my make believe dream. Once I was done, I put on my royalty nightwear, kissed my grandparents goodnight…and off to bed I would go to engulf myself with the aroma of those special sheets that I adored so. Life was good let me tell you.

In the mornings I would wake up to the smell of fresh brewed coffee and sausage patties cooking in the iron skillet. It smelled so delightful. When I would arrive at the table Mama Mac would have a spread of food fit for a King; grits, scrambled eggs, sausage patties, homemade biscuits, jams and red eye gravy. I actually never ate the red eye gravy…the sound of it just wasn’t the least bit appealing to me and besides Daddy Humpy told me…”It’s what the cowboys ate”…and they made it with left over coffee. Great, that did it for me….I surely wasn’t a cowboy! I was Cleopatra. Didn’t he know that? I was certain, Cleopatra didn’t eat cowboy food.

We always ate out of her pink, blue, and yellow tiny flowered dishes with some kind of decorative cut edge a gold band outlining the plate. I thought they were absolutely beautiful. In fact, I liked them so well that when I got older I bought a set just like hers off the side of the road at a dish barn in North Carolina. It was one of those moments when you are driving by and all of a sudden have to hit the brakes and make an immediate turn. I knew without a doubt the dishes that caught my eye were just like my grandmothers. In fact, she probably bought them from a road side dish barn during her travels. I was pleasantly surprised to find the dishes actually had a name, “Hazel”.  Oh my how I loved those dishes…it brought back so many memories! Years after her passing, my aunt gave me the remaining pieces of Mama Mac’s original set. And today if I see a matching piece at an antique store I will pick it up and add it to our two combined sets.

Then there were Mama Mac’s special pies. She was certainly a great cook….real southern cooking. I remember her homemade pies; especially her chocolate cream pie… piled high with meringue and browned oh so lightly. She would make her pies right from scratch….crust and all. Once they were done she would place them on a large bath towel spread out over the washing machine to cool. The washing machine was located on the screened back porch just off from the kitchen. I would have to look for a reason to go on her back porch where I knew those pies were just screaming for attention. I loved to breathe in the aroma of those pies…and all the time I’m sure Mama Mac knew how eager I was to have a pie of one of her delicious pies. I could hardly wait for the moment she would ask me if I wanted a slice. And I was always anxious to say, “Yes Mam! I want the chocolate pie!” …it was my absolute favorite. However it’s too bad no one ever got a copy of her recipe for my favorite pie, but of course it was most likely… a pinch of this and a pinch of that; nothing ever measured or written down. So today any time I see a chocolate cream pie that even resembles my grandmothers I have to try a piece. And so far to my disappointment I have never found one that holds the candle to Mama Mac’s chocolate cream pie. I am beginning to believe, it’s not just the chocolate pie, it’s the love that went into it …and the special memories I have of those precious moments with my grandmother.

Today I have Mama Mac’s old China displayed in my China Cabinet right along with those old everyday dishes she used and I must say….I would take those everyday dishes and the memories that come back to my mind over any piece of china.  You see, most of us put our China up and never use it, but the everyday dishes are used over and over and touched with a love that can never be replaced. Just like those special times with my grandmother …the smell of her sheets …the taste of her chocolate cream pies … her smile…her love….it’s all priceless. I bet she never knew I felt like ‘Royalty’ when I spent those special times with her. She never knew the memories she was creating for my heart. To this day …I love and miss her so very much. I love you Mama Mac!

This article is dedicated to the memory of: Inez Pearl McCowan-McFarland “Mama Mac” (Jan 8, 1910 to Dec 29, 1973), my grandmother.

I offer my services to write memoirs and life stories of you and your loved ones. It’s as simple as sitting on a front porch sharing story after story about your life and your loved ones as you relax in a rocking chair, chattering away about what you know best….your loved ones.

Please continue to read my blog  http://rockingchairchatter.com and be sure to keep a watch for my new website  http://www.myfrontporchfriends.com/ as we continue to write our stories.

Enjoyed the chat,

Lorraine

Lorraine McFarland lives in Plant City, Florida. She is a professional writer specializing in memoirs, life story writing, and capturing memories of your loved ones.

Copyright, April 2011 by Lorraine McFarland. The author retains sole copyright to her contributions to this article.