Here's What I'm Thinking

Monday, August 24, 2015 – School Days, School Days, I’m So Glad I’m Not With You Days or Ellis’ First Day Back to School

The start of a new school year. I sincerely wish all of you a great start to a new year and continuing for the next 180 days. Or however many legislatively defined days of school there are at this time. May you have more days of instruction than assessment.

A treat in summers past was the family vacation. I vacationed with The Cousins and Niece#2 and her husband. I was the only other adult allowed to go. Of course, I did make all of them sign papers stating that if I died while on vacation, I would not be strapped to the roof top of the suburban on the return trip home. If I died while on the trip, I saw no reason for them to cancel the vacation and return as a result. I wasn’t going anywhere. I just did not want to be strapped to the roof. Besides it might look bad for business with those DEALER’S license plates.

After a lovely vaca in Galveston one summer, everyone was packing and loading vehicles for the returns to various homes. Our rooms were on the fourth floor and the one elevator was slow. The one elevator with no air conditioning was very slow.

The older cousins were loading cars downstairs. I arrived downstairs with my load of stuff just in time to overhear one of The Cousins say “He’s a little shit!” He immediately apologized for his language and when I asked who he was talking about, he said “Blaine.” Background: Blaine – GNephew#3 who was about 10 years old at the time – In the photo he is far right in the yellow shades

I agreed, left them loading cars and returned to the fourth floor to retrieve more gear, including the ice chest piled high with more stuff. I finally return to where The Cousins stood impatiently waiting. “What took you so long? And “Why are you sweating so much?”

I angrily replied “It was Ellis’ fault!”

“Ellis?” they asked.

“L. S. – Little Shit! Blaine jumped in the elevator, pressed all of the buttons and then jumped out. It took almost 5 minutes to reach the first floor.”

And now, as Paul Harvey would say, “The rest of the story.”

First day of school that year. Teacher calls roll.

“Blaine A?

“Here, but please call me Ellis.”

Later that afternoon the cell phone of “Ellis’” mother rings. This is Niece #2.

Blaine’s Teacher (laughing) “Niece #2, am I supposed to call Blaine, Ellis? He said he changed his name.”

Niece # 2 (mortified) “Oh no. I am so sorry, Blaine’s Teacher. We’ll talk to him. It might be a long year.”

Update: Today Ellis begins his junior year at Conroe High School taking all AP classes.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

In my back yard, shooting through a window.

Food

I am so pretty.

Just look how beautiful.

From beneath my wings.

Saturday, August 22, 2015 – Vacation Bible School, The Magnolia Methodist Church and Singing

It’s a Saturday morning and I feel like writing something.

The biggest thing that would happen in the summers in Magnolia at the Methodist Church was when the Morgenroth brothers, Marvin, Cecil and Russell, visited their grandmother, Nina and all of their cousins in downtown Pinehurst. We would all attend Vacation Bible School at The Magnolia Methodist Church in downtown Magnolia.

Delia Duffey & Cecil Morgenroth – 14 years old ??

We would be in the oldest group or “tweens” as they are called today – somewhere between 10- 14 year old. There were usually about 10 – 12 of us – more if the Bodkins were there. Their attendance was usually dependent on if our VCB conflicted with another that had better snacks.

The tweens would be the last to descend the stairs, past Doy and Joyce serving snacks, and turning right into the sanctuary to practice for the end of VBC program. This was my favorite part of VBC because it meant it was almost over. You know VBC was not my thing.

I vividly recall the first summer the Morgenroth brothers attended VBC and the tweens were to practice their song. I remember coming down the stairs from Sunday School rooms, turning right and through the door into the sanctuary. We would be aligned standing in two rows, one in front of the other on the two steps between the two pulpits. I feel certain Grace Moore was playing the piano and I cannot remember the song. All I remember was “Those Morgenroth brothers could sing!” I had never heard guys my age sing like that. I have vivid memories of jerking my head and thinking “Who is that singing?” Suddenly we were all trying to sing like them. Loud and joyous. And mostly on key like they were.

Suddenly there were two things I liked about VBC – it was almost over and hearing the Morgenroth brothers make a joyful noise unto the Lord.

Delia & Cecil @ Rickettt Reunion – 2009

They were better than the windmill cookies and red punch from Groves & Son. Still are today. Happy Saturday.

August 21, 2015 – Snarky Friday – Scheduling Issues, Weekend Trips and High School Football.

I am still trying to pull together the first month of my college football television schedule. Right now it looks like this.

At this point, Karen M., it appears my first weekend available to travel to a county in Texas that is still “dry” and has limited TV viewing opportunities (read: no bars), my first available weekend to attend an antique weekend in East Texas is February 2016.

The television sports in the Brazos Valley consists of two topics – those about Aggies – 8.0 minutes of the 10 minute sports allocation and those not about Aggies – anytime left over. In the “any time left over” slot, especially as high school football begins, a local sports team is highlighted. The other day I heard the sports announcer stumble trying to say “the BVCHEA Mustangs” football team. Research (read: Google) revealed the name of the school as Brazos Valley Christian Home Educators Home School High School.

The sports announcer continued his reporting by saying the “BVCHEA Mustangs would scrimmage this weekend against the East Home School. (No mascot identified).

Then I researched the BVCHEA (which actually stands for Brazos Valley Christian Home School Educators ASSOCIATION and does not really match the name of the high school) and looked at the football schedule. FYI-it is six-man football.

Since my schedule is difficult to read, I am going to share the BVCHEA Mustangs schedule.

Disclaimer: I am just sharing information and have no comments that I am making aloud or in writing. I believe the snark speaks for itself today. You may draw your own conclusions. However, I am interested in the Tribe of Bastrop and just wonder about the make-up of the Tribe with whom it is consolidated.

http://www.maxpreps.com/high-schools/bvchea-homeschool-mustangs-(bryan,tx)/football/schedule.htm

BVCHEA Mustangs 2015 Football Schedule

August 8 @ 9:30 AM – FEAST HomeSchool (sic) (San Antonio) (Rivalry Game)

September 4 @ 7:30 PM         – @ Faith Academy (Bellville, TX)

September 11 @ 7:30 PM @ – Fort Bend Chargers HomeSchool (sic) (Rosenberg, TX)

September 18, @ 7:30 PM – TBA

September 25 @ 7:30 PM TBA – Homecoming

October 2 @ 7:30 PM @ – Texas Christian (Houston, Texas)

October 9 @ 7:00 PM – Victory & Praise Christian Academy (Crosby, TX)

October 17 @ 1:00 PM – King’s Academy (Tyler, Texas)

October 23 @ 7:00 PM – Allen Academy (Bryan, Texas)

October 30 @ 7:30 PM – @ Gospel Lighthouse Christian (Lockhart, TX)

November 6 @ 7:30 PM – @ Bastrop Tribe Consolidated (Bastrop, TX)

Thursday August, 20, 2015 – The Preacher Comes for Sunday Dinner or Why I Believe God Has a Sense of Humor.

I know there are people who know me and those who read what I write on Here’s What I’m Thinking that question whether I had a church bringing up at all. Especially given some of the topics I write about like yesterday’s post about bikini suit football. I did though.

I grew up in the Magnolia Methodist Church in Magnolia, Texas. I do not have many memories prior to about age three. I do have some memories of stories I have heard about me growing up in the Magnolia Methodist Church prior to age three. For example, Mama, yanking me out of the aisle and “whispering” “STOP dancing to the church hymns!” Or stories of me playing with and then putting Mama’s jewelry in the collection plate. And my favorite – Mama carried me, a book, some crackers and a switch to church. If I did not read the book and talked, she popped me with the switch and shoved the cracker in my mouth.

But one year when I was about six years old “The Conference” and if you grew up a Methodist, you know what that means, sent the church a new preacher. His name was David Williamson.

By this time I knew that having the preacher to Sunday dinner was a big deal. It was dinner – right after church. If it were supper, it would have been right before church.

I am not sure which order these should be in, but there were three things that suddenly made Sunday dinners very special.

• Mama fixed my all time Sunday (still today my favorite meal) of roast, gravy, mashed potatoes, carrots and hot rolls. And of course gallons of ice tea. And you know there was a Nanny Cake (formerly known as a Doy Cake.)
• The new preacher was about the coolest person I had ever seen and once per month he would come to our house for Sunday dinner.
• And before we sat down for dinner, I could take off my dress and put on my blue jeans or shorts, depending on the season. I am sure this was a prearranged compromise with Mama to get me into the dress in the first place.

After dinner I was always sent to play. But I would slip back into the living room and sit behind the three-quarter partition and listen to the conversations. Mama, Honeyboy and David would tell stories and laugh. It was the laughter of this man that I remember every time I hear his name – even today. His laugh was as though it came from deep within and it filled the room with joy.

It was booming, rich and hearty. Sometimes he made a whooping kinda sound that became infectious and made you start to laugh too. It just gave you a feel good feeling all over.

So in the logic of the mind of a six year old, I concluded this. If God talks through the preacher, then God must laugh through the preacher too. So that must be the way God sounds when He laughs. And to this day because of David Williamson’s laugh, I believe that God has a sense of humor with a big booming laugh.

Granted it is sometimes difficult to believe given the content I post that there is a Divine inspiration and spiritual purpose in Here’s What I’m Thinking. But remember my daily goal – to make at least one person smile or laugh each day.

Magnolia Methodist Church, Magnolia, Texas circa 1955

Tuesday, August 18, 2015 – One More Honeyboy Photo

A sincere thank you to all of you for the LIKES and beautiful comments about Honeyboy. If you knew him, he soon became your Honeyboy too.

When looking for photos of him I found this one.

When I first saw it I thought – Did he shoot a bear? In Louisiana? Upon closer investigation I saw that it is someone’s finger across the lens. Therefore, Mama took the photograph. We all know photography was not one of her greatest skills.

That is also why I know that either Cousin Joe or I took that photograph of him sitting on the rock in Colorado. Photography was not one of Aunt Claudie’s skills either. And we all knew that Uncle Ralph always had difficulty focusing – whether it was the camera or the world.

But back to the photograph. I believe that you is, my dear sister, sitting in Honeyboy’s lap and appearing to be drinking something from a bucket that would classified as an environmental hazard even back then.

Please let this be one of the cousins whose descendants still live in Louisiana – up around Alexandria. That would explain a lot of things about the shallowing of that end of the gene pool.

And the background appears to be – well, at least it doesn’t look swampy.

Monday, August 17, 2015 – Randall Edwin “Honeyboy” Duffey

Randall Edwin “Honeyboy” Duffey

August 17, 1907 – February 18, 2000

About a week ago I began to think what I would post for Honeyboy’s (HB) birthday.

Colorado – 1968

One afternoon I was reading a Facebook post by Kevin Cochran – one of my former students. Kevin posted an excerpt from a feature column he had written in a 2007 Texas Saltwater Fishing Magazine about the restorative powers of autumn.

While HB did like college football, it was autumn with deer (or any other hunting) season and fishing that restored his soul.

Uncle Dale (as in sister’s name sake) on the left with HB and the fish.

As I read Kevin’s excerpt, I realized there were moments I had been with HB during the waning light as darkness descends watching rutting deer appear among the shadows at the edges of the fields. There were moments when I watched Honeyboy and experienced with him the “quiet solitude” as Kevin describes.

Duck blind somewhere in Louisiana

So for all the Dales, Donnies, Dennys, Gregs, Rays, Davids and everybody else Honeyboy taught to love and respect the outdoors as much as he did, you know you have experienced the feelings Kevin describes with Honeyboy too.

Thank you, Kevin for the beautiful memories of our father, grandfather and great-grand father – Our Honeyboy. Used with permission.

“Autumn is to the year as evening is to the day. Just when fish begin to bite better and rutting deer appear among the shadows at the edges of the fields, the light fades away. We get a brief, frantic flurry of activity in the waning light, then the dark of night descends. Yet in that otherwise bleak night there burns a guiding light, especially for trophy trout hunters in South Texas. While the hoopla over pigskin rivalries, macho hunts for Muy Grande and camaraderie shared by waterfowlers hiding in brushed blinds draw others away from the bays, we keep on plugging in quiet solitude. When other sporting seasons end and winter settles in, our high times are just beginning.”

Photo by me.

Photo by me