Reflections on a Steamy Hot Sunday Afternoon

Oak Tree National's signature tree.

 Oh, my! Welcome to the steamy heat of summer, and yet, I find myself drawn to the outdoors. Some days I wake up and can't wait to get out outside to walk early, pull weeds, play golf, or most often play with Murphy. We were up before 7:00am and outside. I was still in my gown and robe with a cup of hot tea in my hand. It felt comfy. I don't often get to feel mornings like that. 

Sitting down in the morning has never been part of my life. I never saw my parents sitting and drinking coffee, relaxing as many may say. My life
from school to teaching and my years of working and with children at home was never still in the morning.  If I didn't have the energy I needed, I drank my ever faithful sugar caffeine ladened Dr. Pepper. 

Sitting didn't last long this morning, it never does. Murphy and I went for our early morning walk and then it was off to a Sunday morning party (not church or Sunday school) to celebrate The Open, or as Americans' say, "The British Open Golf Championship." Our friends gather; to drink anything from water to wine and mixes in between; share golf stories, and dog stories; eat the finest of English foods; and occasionally watch one of the three televisions showing The Open. Yes, we saw Collin Morikawa make that long birdie putt across the green, and go on to win The Open. 

We ate Scotch Egged Meatballs that tasted spicy. The creamed gravy and green peas mellowed the flavors.  The potato egg casserole with fresh tomatoes was smooth and filling. I believe we each tasted food from every tray, like Salmon and pumpernickel, Salmon on potato cakes, sausage bread, scones, sweet Sherried apple Trifle (very British) and we brought Cranachan (Scottish Oats). Thank you Jennifer and Drew Dugan for hosting us for these charming golf parties. 

LeighAnn Fore and Madison Smith on hole #8

My week started last Monday with golf and ended with golf on Sunday, and filled with fun memories in between. On Monday and Tuesday I helped the Women's Oklahoma Golf Association with the scoring for the Women's State Amateur at The Territory Golf Course in Duncan. Helping gave me time to tour the course and watch the young girls and determined women play. Congratulations, Shaebug Scarberry 2021 State Amateur Champion.Steady Scarberry Wins 

Wednesday we found time to spend with our precocious six-year-old granddaughter, Ruth Ann.  We spent time playing dress up, except she is the only one who could get into my mini-skirt outfit from 1973! It even has matching undershorts.  I don't ever remember being that skinny.  

On Thursday four of us met at Oak Tree National in Edmond to play 18 holes of golf. This golf course, opened in 1976, is tree lined tough, no matter which tee box is used. It had been a men's only club until recently, when women were allowed to join. 

Julia Wood and Letty, friends since the 1980's.
Cheers to all of memories of playing golf and living.
Hole #13 at Oak Tree National, Ouch!

According to the website the course has everything – sand, water, trees, length, thick rough and fiercely contoured greens. Dye enhanced the gently rolling property, adding some bumps and hollows of his own along the fairways. The course meanders through oak forests, across streams and around lakes with water coming into play on 13 holes, including each of the par-3 holes.

Thunder, lighting and rains roared through Saturday afternoon and woke me from a sound nap. Today a light rain rolled in on a thunder train. It's warm and sticky out, but we managed to play with Murphy enough that he is worn out.

Maybe, he managed to play with us enough to wear us out. 

Murphy is into creative artwork this week. He is daily looking for ways to create collages on our floors with soft toy stuffing, shredded toilet paper, and magazines and newspapers strewn over and under furniture. All of our books are now on top shelves, no flowers or decorative arts are allowed on tables, all items are stored above his jumping abilities. 

We start our puppy Canine Academy classes this week. I wonder if Murphy will be as good as Pinkerton in Steven Kellogg's classic stories of his Great Dane? Perhaps next week Murphy will have something to say about his new classes on behavior. 

But Katy said she liked toilet paper art. 

Maybe, tomorrow I will start the morning outside relaxing with a cup of hot tea, and watch the grass grow (or throw a frisbee dozens of  times). 

Miami Memories: A st. stories

Dr. Pepper memory from childhood

I'd like to blame my love of  Dr. Pepper on my college life, carrying a heavy load of college classes and needing a sugar/caffeine boost every so often, but the true story is that I first discovered Dr. Pepper when I was in 2nd grade at Lincoln school. We lived on the corner of A S.W. across from Lincoln.  My upstairs bedroom window overlooked the playground, and best of all the drive through at Doc's BBQ and Gene's Tarry-A-While.


I learned a lot about life from that upstairs window. The family up the street from us, the Cantrells, had six children (later seven), but we called them the sixes.  Many summer days one of the sixes would let me tag along

Courtesy of Ron Wagoner.  

as we'd go over to Doc's or Gene's in the daytime and share an ice cream cone or Dr. Pepper.  We never had much money, so we shared and pooled our resources.  (Later as a teenager I looked at Doc's differently and my memories are more emotional.)

Thanks to  MHS Class '64 & Sammie Ketcher

My storytelling days were also born on A street.  With my tiny upstairs window open in the summer nights I could listen to the music blaring from Doc's speakers, and with Dad's binoculars I could spy on the lovers in the parking lot.  We were never allowed to go over there at night! Sometimes Sherry and Judi and I would sit on my bed and take turns watching people. Kissing was absolutely disgusting, and I could not figure out why anyone would cuddle under a hot sweaty arm of a man on a hot summer night, much less put lips together.  Just the same, we laughed and giggled when we saw the moves coming.  

My favorite song of all was "Davy Crockett King of the Wild Frontier."  Even then I was part feminist because I wore a white Polly Crockett hat, not the brown one made for boys, but poor Polly never had a song named after her.  Fess Parker sings Davy Crocket  Sherry and Judy Cantrell and I ventured off to the Neosho River, and walked up and down the banks of the muddy flowing river. When it flooded it was even more dangerous and more reason to walk to the edges of the swirling river.  Most homes didn't fence off their backyards, so we thought it was safe to tread on their property, even the magnificent homes north of Route 66 along the river banks. Carol Cosby lived very near the river, and we often stood on the bank throwing sticks into the water and searched for snakes. Don't know what we would have done if we'd found one!

My mother had a kind heart and my father was a flamboyant man who loved to tell a good story and drive fast cars, but it was a hobo who spent an afternoon with us on the doorstep that sparked my imagination and opened my eyes to the wide wide world.  We were only a few blocks from the railroad tracks, and it was not uncommon for hobo's to hop on and off the trains passing through.  Mother would always serve them soup or a baloney sandwich, and I would watch from the screen door as they ate alone.

1985 Matt, Michael, Katy, Letty.  

Clouds building in the Grand Canyon

 

t

One time a hobo told my mother that he'd once lived in Wichita, Kansas.  That was her home, and she smiled and listened as he told his sad story.  When he sat down on the steps to eat, I asked if I could join him.  Mother watched out the kitchen window, as this seven year old girl sat beside a stranger one afternoon and listened to his stories.  He pointed to the straggly elm trees along the street and said, "Imagine walking into a forest where trees grow so high they touch the sky, and where they are as wide as that garage across the street."  From his stories of giant trees and red golden gorges dug by the hands of God I began to see the world.  He painted a world that I wanted to see, and he was just a hobo, a man, who made a difference in this child's life.  

Hope all of you see these wonders in your lifetime, and toast with a Dr. Pepper to memories.  



This is a link to a great old photo of  Gene's Tarry-A-While in Miami, Oklahoma.  Thanks Fredas Cook.