This Journey

I have been missing Literally Letty. Her stories have taken backstage to the history research on the old country club. Searching my blog for unfinished stories sometimes helps me create new ones.  Interesting how reflectivity takes one's mind and weaves it through a maze of emotions and moments. 

"This Journey" began in January of 2021, during Covid when I often thought about life. 

I am thankful in my heart every day for the life I lead every day and the grace that God has given me to enjoy it. To my daily regret, my words and actions do not always demonstrate my gratitude and love. Then my thankfulness turns to God and my Higher Power, from which I find faith and understanding.

Such sweetness in this pillow top. 

I keep two books by my side in my studio. A small blue book called One Day at A Time, Al-Anon which guides me with understanding of what I can and cannot do. "Let Go, Let God," is imprinted in my heart as a reminder of what I face.

 "Life must be lived forward, but it can only be understood looking back." 

Looking back is what I do when I write the   Miami, Ok Golf and Country Club History. Oh my, what insights I have gained from this journey back in time. 

The second book, which I keep nearby, is so large it deserves a shelf by itself. The New Oxford Annotated Bible helps me understand the words of God as spoken through his disciples and followers. I bought the Bible about six years ago when our Sunday School class took on a project to study the entire Bible. Thanks to Curtis and Michelynn McKnight we have studied books from the Old Testament, MMLJ, and now Corinthians. 

A curious thing happened to me when I stepped in Mardell's Christian Book Store to buy the Annotated Bible. The man at the bookstore told me they didn't carry The New Oxford Annotated Bible because it contained the Apocrypha. "What!" I explained, "that is exactly why I want this book."  He calmly and monotonously explained to me that Christians did not follow the words of the Apocrypha because they were not in the accepted canon of scripture. 

I love to read "banned books" or "unaccepted books" and that fired me up. I ordered the book online and began reading, you guessed it, passages from the Apocrypha. 

Whether Susanna, or Bel and the Dragon stories are history or fiction matters not. What is important, as we often say, is the "take away." Why write those words or share the stories through oral traditions if no one can understand the reason for the story to exist. 

After reading a few of the stories from the apocrypha, and the story of Ester in the OT,  I smiled. Our lives may be longer and healthier and our daily tasks easier than a hundred or a five thousand years ago, but oppressed people still must be creative, like Brer Rabbit, to teach the world acceptance of all peoples. 

Perhaps this answers another question I have considered over the years, as to why it helped me so much to share, to tell orally with audiences "Folktales." They carry such simple messages of how best to live. 

What I have found along this journey, in the Bible, is how to live by Faith. The Golden Rule helped me understand God when I was a child, when I didn't know about storms and chaos entering my life, but faith I learned is everyday.   

Looking back, this is not all entirely true. Besides the Al-anon book and the Bible, I often go for brisk walks to allow nature to comfort me, or turn to my collection of quotes, that I keep on the "cloud" for quick reference.  When I don't know what to do, what to think, how to feel about this or that I discover through quotes that others have felt and feel the same way that I do. 

Allow me to segue to a moment when I stood in my parents bedroom and my mother handed me a pamphlet by Dale Carnegie on how to get along with people. I cannot imagine what I had said or done, but from that time on she quoted Dale Carnegie to me on a regular basis. 

And so, a thought by an old sage, Dale Carnegie, sent to me through my mother's heart.

Every day do a good deed. That will put a mile of joy on someone's face. 

I am thankful that Salvia will grow in abundance in our clay soil because their blooms attract a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 

 

That Other Gurl...

 Literally, somedays I don't know who I am talking to or living with inside of me. Who is that other gurl, I ask with a southern whang, and why are you so difficult to live with?

She has been acting much like a reluctant cave bear growly mopey and willing to go back to bed after every meal. She is not me. She has even been watching television in the evenings for several hours. Today, she woke up early, fixed her tea, sat back down on a comfy heating pad and watched the entire CBS Sunday Mornings. In one sitting. Now when has that ever happened?

I am literally Letty, who normally doesn't sit for long lengths of time, except to write. Even then I take breaks by leaving my water or iced tea in the kitchen. If that is not enough, I wear a Fitbit that goes beep beep beep if I don't move 250 steps in an hour! (I do ignore it from time to time.) 

That other gurl also walks on lazy feet, in other words, her feet don't want to get up and move. To be clear, this gurl is different from my 'evil twin' who occasionally shows up on the golf course. I have learned to let her play her game and accept her for the herky jerky player that she is. I have lived with her for decades and we have made peace. 

Today, the other gurl met her problem head on. That meeting is now posted on the refrigerator door to calm my spirit and revive that laughter within my soul. 

Sitting up, staring at his feet Snoopy says, "Now look here feet!  The rest of us wants to go jogging so let's get with it! 

nothing happened

ALL RIGHT FEET...ON YOUR FEET! Snoopy commands

nothing happened tee hee hee

That struck me with a lightning rod effect, and I picked up my feet and told the other gurl to go take a nap, because these feet were taking this body to exercise for at least thirty minutes. 

Who knew that one deep breath and a laugh out loud comic strip could cure a gurl with a cave bear mentality?

Thank you "Classic Peanuts" by Charles Schulz 

Moments like today and the week leading up to my cave bear mentality occur when the weather takes control leaving me feeling gray and grouchy. 

Thanks to Snoopy and the many other colorful cartoons, I pulled myself up and exercised today. Like magic I felt cleansed inside and out. The growly grumpy gurl was gone...I had exorcised her. 

Now I ask myself, "Why is that so hard to push myself to exercise when I know 100% of the time that I will feel better after a good workout?" 

**Don't google that one, or you will plunge down a rabbit hole deeper than the day is long....tee hee hee

"Be gentle with yourself. We are each doing the best we can."

P.S. After printing this I reread it and experienced another epiphany. (Two in one day.)  The word accept is the key for me to this aging process and to the gray days that have always been in my life. Perhaps I will write the word ACCEPT on my printer.  I write it on my golf balls and it helps me to accept the inevitable golf shots in my life. 

For another short story about Two Sisters Both with Curls click on this link. 

GOLF GYPSY--UP TO HER KNEES

 

"If your knees aren't dirty by the end of the day, you ought to seriously re-examine your life."  Bill Watterson

I ponder whether this quote is meant for gardeners or golfers.  I do, however, have a golfing friend who found out the hard way what it means to have your knees dirty by the end of the day. 

During a warm fall day, she (who will remain nameless) duck hooked her ball into a nearly dry pond on hole #8 at The Trails Golf Course. Normally, this pond is full of intimidating water, although I personally believe that the water table rises in the summer and spring because of all the golf balls that are covering the bottom of the water. 

Playing with her son and best friend, she was determined to hit the ball, lying 20 yards away, out of the drying sucking muck. Her first mistake was thinking she could even get to her ball. The muck showed prior footsteps that a dinosaur could have made squishy sticky and deep. 

Her first steps were down the embankment covered in grass and rocks, allowing her to sidestep any slippery slope. Her next few steps were sticky and slippery. Luckily, she carried her 8 iron with her for balance and to strike the ball. She took another few steps confidently getting deeper into the muck allowing her to walk and not lose her shoes.  She knew she could hit her ball out of the muck and onto the green grass near the hole. 

In the final approach to her ball, she began to tip from side to side while her friend and son looked on, already realizing that she might be in trouble. 

No one remembers whether she hit the ball or if she even reached the final destination. What they do recall is her sudden high-pitched scream heard 'round the golf course, "I can't move! My feet are stuck!" 

"Seriously," her friend called out, "pick up your feet slowly, one by one, and turn around."

"I can't," came the scream.  Like Tonto sinking in the quicksand, they watched as she mucked around shoeless and sinking deeper with each step. The Lone Ranger was not there to rescue her. What were her friends to do?

It was serious enough that no one bothered to take a picture. 

Her son grabbed his driver and slowly made his way towards his mother. Her friend took the arm of the son and a saving lifeline was created. However, it was noted that the people playing on the green on hole #7 watched and could not or did not choose to help. An imagined cartoon picture shows the on lookers laughing and pointing in disbelief.

At last, her son hollered, "Mom, this is serious. Forget your shoes and turn around and grab the driver." 

"But my hands are sticky, and I'll ruin your new club." She replied. "I can't balance myself enough to carry my club and reach."

"Mom, throw that club up on the bank after you take two steps toward me."

Whether in anger or fear, she took two sucking steps and threw the club out of the mud hole and past the golf cart to the middle of the fairway, and in the same action grabbed her son's club head and nearly fell face forward. 

With the strength of Sampson her son stood still and pulled slowly allowing his mother to take one small step at a time until the ground could hold her. 

Slowly methodically two people stepped backwards crawling out of the mud and muck, while the golfer stepped forward toward the shoreline. 

When all were safe on the dry fairway their laughter could not be contained. 

Her knees were dirty brown by the end of the day.

As she thought about her decision to hit the ball out of the mucky pond, she could only laugh. Those of us who witnessed the event or heard about it from others, who saw and heard the live action, won't forget the sight, and recognize that only a truly dedicated daredevil golfer would ever attempt that shot and we love her for that reason. 

**For images of Bill Watterson quotes click on this link Calvin and Hobbs

Big Bad Ass Bald Cypress by Murphy Doodle

Letty says that it has been a long winter and she is tired of me dragging in leaves and twigs,

first of all, i do not drag anything into our house but sometimes when i shake my body, brown pieces of leaves and grass fly through the air,

even i do not like the brown twigs that stick to my tail and ears,

it is not my fault that brown needles from a tree called bad ass bald cypress sticks to my fur,

that is why i shake in the house and rub my head on the carpet

most of the time letty and jack pick the needles out of my hair, and i don't cry or act like a whimp when it pulls or bites, i am not a puppy

one night when i was scratching and itching because of the nasty needles letty told me that the bad ass cypress will grow a new set of lovely russet-red lacy needles this spring,

if that is what poet tree is then whoever said that has never slept with red lacy needles in their tail

 

the lady who gives me baths and loves on me while she dries my hair told me that i was really dirty and sticky this winter

I hung my head

i am lucky to have a lot of curly hair that keeps me warm in the winter,

when the lady who cuts my hair shaves by body i don't get cold but i do look funny and skinny, no one says I am a cute dog when my hair is not curly,

but the big bad brown needles do not stick to my short hair except on my long wagging tail,  

today is not winter where i live, so jack sits outside with me on afternoons like this and keeps me company,

when we are swinging the big ass cypress stands bald behind the swing in the gardeners yard, i think bald means no hair and maybe the same thing for a tree, that is because all of the trees hair fell in our yard and i rolled in it

jack says in a few more weeks all of the needles will be gone and he won't sit on the swing and pick at my hair, 

i hope he is write and i hope he will still swing with me

maybe when spring comes to our house letty will spend more time outside away from her computer

my favorite time is when she sits on the swing with jack and me

What's in a Name?

 

During third grade I became fascinated with names, after a mouthy boy at Lincoln Elementary called me "Lettuce" and "Lettuce Head."  

 "I am not a lettuce head," I screamed on the playground that day, as my right arm socked him in the face. He cried and I found myself in the principal's office.

Between the principal's words that day and the scolding from my mother, my head felt scrambled in thoughts. Why couldn't a lady fight?  I felt proud of my name because I was the only Letty in a world of Carols, Bettys, and Lindas. Worst of all I learned that words hurt more than bruises, to me. 

Seventy-five (oops, 76) years ago, my parents gave me a name long enough to fill the line on the birth certificate, Letishia Isabelle. Within weeks that great long name became Letty.

Mother helped me look up the meaning of my name but the encyclopedia set only showed these names.  She said she thought Letishia meant happiness and that is why she named me that. I am not so sure I believed it nor did it make me happy.    

That year in third grade a wise woman entered our lives. Leona DeAttley Hampton a loud, vivacious, intelligent, and eccentric woman, who loved the names Letty and Jonya. Like a lioness prowling for attention she would step into our living room, stop, turn her head both ways searching for two little girls. When she saw us she sprang to life. What she said, I no longer remember. It was how she said it that caught my attention. No other woman in my life could capture our attention quite like Leona. Even my father stayed in the room when she visited. 

It was mother's description of Leona that sent me to our worn-out dictionary that mother had carried with her since the war years. Words filled my head. There in I found the meaning of eccentric, a person of slightly strange or unconventional views or behavior, and vivacious, lively and animated. 

Leona fit all of those descriptions and along the way I discovered that the back of a dictionary also listed names and meanings of names. Letishia meant "JOY and HAPPINESS", and my mother didn't spell it like the Latin form Laetitia. I do not hear and understand separate syllables very well (phonics did not help me learn  how to read), and I realized that mother's spelling was better than being called  Le tit tit ia by some mouthy boy. 

Something about knowing my name meant happiness and joy along with my love of the word eccentric made an indelible impact on my life that year.  Words also took me a step closer to becoming a lady, who could stand her ground with words not by throwing punches.

Knowing Leona may have also done the same thing. Her greatest gift to me was bringing  foreign exchange students from Northeastern A&M Junior college to our home on E street, Southeast. I recall discovering that a young man who had dark eyes and melodious voice was named Said. When he spelled it out for me, I turned to explain that he misspelled his own name.

"You said your name was Syeed, but you spelled it like the word said. How can that be?" He smiled and I discovered that not all things are the same in this world. 

Patty, Jonya, Katy, and Letty, all member of AARP!

This holiday season my sister, cousin, daughter and I met for lunch at Scratch restaurant in Norman. Gifts are not necessary, nor our cards. What matters is that the four of us are together to celebrate our December birthdays.  Our daughter, Katy, is a September birthday and loves to celebrate it twice, once then and again with us. 

My sister surprised us with the sweetest gift this year, the meaning of our names. 

She then opened her phone and began to read:

To cousin Patty, your name, Patricia, is the female given names of Latin origin, derived from the Latin word patrician, meaning "NOBLE." Applause applause. The name and its meaning match up with Patricia, and she even sits and walks boldly upright with the look of a patrician. 

To my niece Katy, your name, Kathryn, is Greek for "PURE." It has been a popular name choice for saints and royal family members.

I interjected, she was actually named after Kathryn Hepburn, a strong steadfast woman, and Alexis Smith, a Broadway star in The Follies. I intended for Katy to be Alexis or Lexie until a male friend of the family tried to nickname her "little Alex." I quickly changed her name to Katy. 

To my sister, Letishia (Jonya uses here Spanish accent to say my full name), your name means  "JOY and GLADNESS." 

Jonya, now where did that come from? Mother announced to dad that under no circumstances would her new baby daughter be given a man's name, thus Jonya like Tonya became my little sister. The name Johnie is both a boy's name and a girl's name meaning "GOD IS GRACIOUS." How perfectly descriptive for my little sister. She is not only beautiful by appearance but gracious and kind to all. 

She shared our name gifts aloud that day bringing smiles and near tears to our eyes. 

So I ask, "What's in a name."

Women Are Like a Bag of Tea!

Eleanor Roosevelt once said that women could be compared to a bag of tea, so you only know how strong it is after it comes to a boil.

I have been boiling since Thanksgiving all due to my computer woes, old hands that knot up and skip a beat, a slow brain that does not understand new technology and a severe lack of patience.

Transmitting a howling scream of frustration in words on a piece of paper seems impossible, unless I think of myself as a tea bag dropped in boiling water and left to stand for hours on end.

After months of my right hand little finger hitting the insert key on my laptop and deleting, rewriting, and moving the words around, imagine the feeling of hot tears running down my face and my heart racing because my brain told me I couldn't do it. I couldn't finish my writing project. I couldn't type. I punched the wall of negativity with my voice in a low growl eventually elevating to a roar that sent the outside birds at the feeder to the nearest bush. My right hand pounded on the table. Storming out of my studio I bundled up and stepped outside to kick the soccer ball with Murphy. 

One ball nearly flew over the fence, and I watched Murphy turn and look at me as if I were superhuman. I finally buckled in laughter and frustration. 

With my mind and brain swept clean of cobwebs, Jack and I sat down to use his computer to see if it (not me) typed any better. It did not.

Little did I realize the concept of when and how I learned to type, 1963, made a difference in what my fingers do or don’t do. My fingers learned to type on a typewriter with a large space between the keys, much like the original keyboards with a desktop. My fingers and brain had no training at keeping my hands close together on a tiny laptop computer!  That knowledge or language alone would have helped to ease my frustration.    

However, on Jack's laptop with a slightly larger keyboard we accidentally discovered that Microsoft Word 365 gave me more options and a more efficient spell check for writing blogs and my Miami Country Club History writing project. We bought the program the next day, along with a new HP printer. 

Even with Microsoft 365 my fingers still created errors. At last, I called my neighbor, Stacie, and begged for help. She walked down that cool evening and downloaded the program successfully and shared some geeky info on steps and processes. Once she understood what my fingers were doing, she turned to me and said, "You need a new keyboard." 

Unable to grasp why a new keyboard would help, I also discovered the next day that my downloaded Microsoft 365 was not talking to me or the computer because I have two Google accounts and we downloaded it to the wrong account. How does that seem possible!

The next rescue came from Karena at Norman Nerds, who cleared up my mismatched google accounts and a few other errors. She also pointed her finger at me and told me to buy a new keyboard. With an online search she pointed out which one to purchase—the one with the dastardly "insert" key placed off to right bottom, away from disaster’s results. How sad to think that one key could make a difference in how a person computes! 

Wavy Keyboards for those over '60. 

*Logi Tech MK670 Combo, Wavy Keys 

With the purchase of a new wavy keyboard and another month of learning where function keys are and how they work, I began to relax. Thanks to coaching from Karena and young folks at the Norman Public Library I use the Microsoft 365 to type all my blogs and then transfer to the Blogspot pages. 

I also have learned that standing 5'4" and sitting in chairs made for larger adults can present issues on reaching the keys comfortably. I have learned to balance my elbows (since the chairs arms don't pull in enough to support my arms) on my torso so that there is no stress on my shoulders or elbows. Large chairs cannot accommodate my small stature. 

Before I add up the cost on solving the problem with my stiff fingers, let me share that a hidden costs that came in the evenings when I consumed several bottles of wine over the holidays. No, I am not proud. 

As for the tea, I discovered that I am mildly strong woman who might have made Eleanor proud. I begin the day with a mild tea and end the day with a herbal tea, and I still am using the computer and writing. 

**On a personal note, I highly recommend Bloomin' Desert Teas. Rosalind recommended that I drink the herbal Ginger Tea, and that has settled my stomach and nerves each evening and allows me to enjoy the evening without my tasty wine. Jack much prefers the "Red Rooibos" teas. 

I’m only getting healthy and my computer skills have improved with age!

READERS IN THE ROUGH 2024

 

Readers in the Rough—January 2024

Our discussion over the life of Marjorie Post started the calendar year 2023 with a lively evening discourse either approving of her valued collection of art from Moscow or arguing that she should not have purchased those items, but we all marveled at her dream to build Mar-a-Logo in Florida in the late 1920’s, not to mention the men in her life.  

With that we began our year reading, discussing, and deciding on our one important vote for one book a month.

The Magnificent Lives of Marjorie Merriweather Post received the biggest mix of votes: 3 voted a Par, 3 voted a Birdie, 2 voted an Eagle, and 2 voted it a Hole-in-One. The total of the votes gave it an overall BIRDIE.

To better explain our voting think of a scale of 1-5 with 5 being the best and you would recommend it to any type of reader, and a 1 being a bogey or would not recommend to others to read.  

• A Hole-in-One vote equals 5 points. 
• Eagle vote equals 4 points. 
• Birdie vote equals 3 points. 
• Par vote equals 2 points.
• Bogey is worth 1 point.

One book received a Hole-in-One and nearly a standing ovation.

LESSONS IN CHEMISTRY by Bonnie Garmus https://www.bonniegarmus.com/lessons-in-chemistry

 

 This year, five books received overwhelming agreement for an EAGLE.

REMARKABLY BRIGHT CREATURES by Shelby Van Pelt

MAD HONEY by Jodi Picoult and Jennifer Finney Boylan

THE MARRIAGE PORTRAIT by Maggie O’Farrell 

LADY TAN’S CIRCLE OF WOMEN by Lisa See

TOM LAKE by Ann Patchett  If you prefer audio books, we recommend listening to Tom Lake.

We enjoy Ann Patchett's books so much, one of our Readers visited her bookstore in Nashville. 

Books receiving the majority of 3 points for a BIRDIE were:

THE MAGNIFICIENT LIVES OF MARJORIE POST by Allison Pataki

TOMORROW TOMORROW TOMORROW by Gabrielle Zevin

VIOLETA by Isabelle Allende

HELLO BEAUTIFUL by Ann Napolitano

<https://annnapolitano.com/hello-beautiful/>

 

WOMEN WITHOUT MEN by Shahrnush Parsipur,

our September book, was the most difficult to discuss and received PAR votes because we all struggled with the issues. It is a translation by Faridoun Farrokh. This passage, on page 85 in a book of only 122 pages, might give a clue as to the subject matter. “Unfortunately, it is still not a time for a woman to
travel by herself. She must either become invisible or stay cooped up in a house. My problems is that I can no longer remain housebound, but I have to, because I am a woman. Perhaps I can make a little progress at a time. But then I will have to be stuck in a house for a while. Maybe this is the only way I can see the world at a snail’s pace.”

We ended our year with  cheerful evening of delicious food, a few drinks, and ornery "Dirty Santa" ornament gift exchange. The lovely crystal ball ornament at the top was stolen two times and found a home at last. Inside the ball were all 11 of the book titles we read in 2023. Thank you members of Readers in the Rough. 

**Along the way, one of our readers became a grandma for the first time. We predict that she may not be reading as many books as in years past. Her hands and arms might be full of this sweet bundle of love.