My husband is working, so I ate Sunday lunch today alone.
I would love to occasionally be able to go out with friends for lunch on Sunday when this is the case. But, the problem is, most of them go to the casinos to eat. Even the Methodists. I don't go to the casinos.
Back when the people of my city were trying to vote to make Riverboat gambling legal, my pastor at the time took the typical Methodist stance against it. But, some church people, many of whom had much to gain financially, wanted gambling voted in. This all resulted in causing a split in my church that has yet to fully heal.
I never wanted any part of the casinos. I voted against them. True to predictions, our crime rate has gone up and social service agencies are overwhelmed with people who have gambled away the welfare or child support checks and need help feeding their families for the rest of the month.
My husband and I seem to be the only hold outs in our respective families. We have missed parties, family gatherings, and opportunities to be with friends. It gets a bit lonely sometimes. But we have to do what is right for us.
At least I enjoy my own company. :)
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Dungy
Wow! My cup runneth over as far as football is concerned. First, LSU wins the National Championship. Then, Eli makes it to the Super Bowl. Now, much the delight of legions of Indianapolis Colts fans, myself included, Tony Dungy has agreed to come back and coach at least ONE more year.
In the world of professional sports, class is sometimes at a premium. But the Indianapolis Colts have it in Spades with Tony Dungy both on and off the field.
Peyton might even be doing a happy dance.
Nah.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Eli
A Manning is going to the Super Bowl and it ain't Peyton.
If anyone had said to me at the beginning of this season that Peyton's baby brother would be going to the Super Bowl while Peyton watched, I would not have believed it. Eli has been in the shadow of his big brother all his young life. The name Manning may open doors, but it brings an awful lot of pressure as well.
Eli's daddy is Ole Miss legend Archie Manning. It is hard to explain to anyone not from around here what "Archiemania" was like in those days. Even those of us who did not root for Ole Miss had a soft spot for the polite, soft spoken young man from Drew, Mississippi. We were happy when he was drafted by the New Orleans Saints, who were the closest thing Mississippians had to a "home" team.
But, New Orleans was never able to build a decent team around Archie and he played almost his entire career being the only good player on a team so bad that fans wore paper bags over their heads to the games. He tried to play a couple of other places, but by that time his oft sacked and weary body just wasn't up to it anymore. He left the pro game, never realizing his potential.
When the draft threatened to put Eli in the same position his daddy had been in years before, Archie stepped in to try to keep that from happening. It might not have been the smartest move, but it was certainly motivated by concern for his son's future. I think Eli's behavior on draft day had more to do with Archie than Eli himself.
Since then, I think Eli has shown that he is willing to do what it takes to grow into his name and family legacy. Even if he does not win the Super Bowl, (and I am by no means counting him out) I think he has shown the football world that he too has the talent and heart to take his rightful place in Manning history.
I wish him the best.
If anyone had said to me at the beginning of this season that Peyton's baby brother would be going to the Super Bowl while Peyton watched, I would not have believed it. Eli has been in the shadow of his big brother all his young life. The name Manning may open doors, but it brings an awful lot of pressure as well.
Eli's daddy is Ole Miss legend Archie Manning. It is hard to explain to anyone not from around here what "Archiemania" was like in those days. Even those of us who did not root for Ole Miss had a soft spot for the polite, soft spoken young man from Drew, Mississippi. We were happy when he was drafted by the New Orleans Saints, who were the closest thing Mississippians had to a "home" team.
But, New Orleans was never able to build a decent team around Archie and he played almost his entire career being the only good player on a team so bad that fans wore paper bags over their heads to the games. He tried to play a couple of other places, but by that time his oft sacked and weary body just wasn't up to it anymore. He left the pro game, never realizing his potential.
When the draft threatened to put Eli in the same position his daddy had been in years before, Archie stepped in to try to keep that from happening. It might not have been the smartest move, but it was certainly motivated by concern for his son's future. I think Eli's behavior on draft day had more to do with Archie than Eli himself.
Since then, I think Eli has shown that he is willing to do what it takes to grow into his name and family legacy. Even if he does not win the Super Bowl, (and I am by no means counting him out) I think he has shown the football world that he too has the talent and heart to take his rightful place in Manning history.
I wish him the best.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Geaux Tigers!!! National Champs!
GEAUX TIGERS!!!
The LSU Tigers are the 2007 National Champions!
After a REALLY crummy week, this is a real cheerer-upper!
My T-shirt is ordered. With apologies to my fellow football fans, I am gonna milk this for all it is worth!
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Tee-Wee
My dad came home from a morning hunt with the news that our former maid and nanny had passed away this morning at the age of 92. He went by her house to take her some deer meat and got the news from her foster son, Calvin.
Some of my earliest memories in life are of Tee-Wee. We moved to Russum, Mississippi when I was 3 years old, my brother 2, and my sis was still an infant. Daddy hired Tee-Wee to help my mama and to take care of us during the day. My brother would bang on the table with his fork and spoon, demanding that Tee-Wee make him "battercakes." She never failed to oblige. Those hands that could wring a chicken's neck in seconds, gently wiped away tears when we fell prey to ordinary childhood hurts. Tee-Wee could not pronounce my sister Tammy's name so she became "Tangy baby."
Like most folks around there, we struggled to make ends meet. Tee-Wee and her husband, John, gave us free rein of their fields of corn and peas. They brought us baskets of blackberries in season. In return, we took them to town to get groceries, and when boycotts threatened, we did their grocery shopping for them. In that much simpler time, despite the racism of other places, tiny Russum was an oasis. If we recognized someone, black or white, walking to town, we offered them a ride. If we had plenty, we shared. Everybody looked after everyone else's kids. Race simply was not an issue there.
Tee-Wee's passing is more than the passing of a person. It is the passing of an era.
An era that I miss.
Some of my earliest memories in life are of Tee-Wee. We moved to Russum, Mississippi when I was 3 years old, my brother 2, and my sis was still an infant. Daddy hired Tee-Wee to help my mama and to take care of us during the day. My brother would bang on the table with his fork and spoon, demanding that Tee-Wee make him "battercakes." She never failed to oblige. Those hands that could wring a chicken's neck in seconds, gently wiped away tears when we fell prey to ordinary childhood hurts. Tee-Wee could not pronounce my sister Tammy's name so she became "Tangy baby."
Like most folks around there, we struggled to make ends meet. Tee-Wee and her husband, John, gave us free rein of their fields of corn and peas. They brought us baskets of blackberries in season. In return, we took them to town to get groceries, and when boycotts threatened, we did their grocery shopping for them. In that much simpler time, despite the racism of other places, tiny Russum was an oasis. If we recognized someone, black or white, walking to town, we offered them a ride. If we had plenty, we shared. Everybody looked after everyone else's kids. Race simply was not an issue there.
Tee-Wee's passing is more than the passing of a person. It is the passing of an era.
An era that I miss.
Friday, January 04, 2008
The End
I got the call this evening. Louise's family, faced with overwhelming evidence against any hope of a quality life for her, decided to disconnect the machines keeping her alive and allow her to go to Heaven in peace.
For her family's sake, I am thankful that Louise made it through the holidays. I am thankful that there was enough of a reprieve for her to see her children one last time. I am glad that she got to see the roses that I had bought her on Christmas Eve and stubbornly stored in the refrigerator until I could take them to her in a room.
And I am glad that I was allowed to know Louise and to be a part of her life.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Thank-You Note
Today I got a Thank-You note in the mail, and it tore my heart out.
Thank-you notes are usually something that I enjoy getting. Heck, I find it a real treat to get anything that is neither junk mail, nor a bill!
Now Martha is the kind of proper Southern lady who never lets a kindness go by without acknowledging it in writing. Martha has written me a number of notes over the years. But this one was written for Martha, in whose honor I made a donation to Heifer International, by her son.
Now, if you are not from the South, you must understand that for a proper Southern lady to let someone else write a note for her, she must be close to death.
And Martha is dying. Her friends know that she has been battling cancer for over a year. But recently, she decided to stop treatments and live the life she has left in relative peace and comfort. Her family is guarding her privacy and no one really knows how much time Martha has left.
But, after getting a Thank-You note written by her son, I have to think that Martha will be going home.
Soon.
Thank-you notes are usually something that I enjoy getting. Heck, I find it a real treat to get anything that is neither junk mail, nor a bill!
Now Martha is the kind of proper Southern lady who never lets a kindness go by without acknowledging it in writing. Martha has written me a number of notes over the years. But this one was written for Martha, in whose honor I made a donation to Heifer International, by her son.
Now, if you are not from the South, you must understand that for a proper Southern lady to let someone else write a note for her, she must be close to death.
And Martha is dying. Her friends know that she has been battling cancer for over a year. But recently, she decided to stop treatments and live the life she has left in relative peace and comfort. Her family is guarding her privacy and no one really knows how much time Martha has left.
But, after getting a Thank-You note written by her son, I have to think that Martha will be going home.
Soon.
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