Friday, July 14, 2017

Neighbor Down



Grandma

I have a book titled "Mommilies." It is a compilation of sayings that all moms everywhere repeatedly rehearse before their children in an effort to illicit wise choices from their offspring. I have compiled my own list that I call Grandmommilies. 

One of my earliest memories is sitting in Grandma's brown and gold flowered velour loveseat on Bunkum Road. After checking Todd and me to see if we were wearing undershirts to keep warm, she would bend down our ears and say "goodness gracious, I could grow potatoes behind those ears."

As a teenager when I got a little self-righteous and judgmental she would bring me down a notch by saying, "You don't know what all they've been through.  You can't judge a man till you've walked a mile in his moccasins."

When a baby cried, she would diagnose with conviction: "that baby's hungry!" She would feel their toes and declare, "well he's cold as a frog!"

Grandma was a worker, and in the years before her health declined was not comfortable sitting idle. When at the end of a meal her girls wanted to just sit and talk/rest, she would say, "let's just fly in and get this mess cleaned up."

When my kids were adolescents, she loved to entertain them with endless games of chicken foot while the women would do the Christmas shopping. She would say, "You girls just go on about your rat-killin' and don't worry about us." 

Eventually her hearing began to fail, and she would often startle to see someone show up in her basement living room from upstairs. To remedy this, as someone began descending the stairs they were to call out "neighbor coming down" it was abbreviated to "neighbor down" and eventually just "neighbor!" One Christmas a very young Bethani slid down the stairs calling "naybo down." Apparently she thought this was her name, and the term of endearment stuck to this day.

Grandma was truly the essence of a Proverbs 31 woman in her own right. She cared for her household, working outside the home to help support the family after Grandpa's heart-attack. She invested in Branson property and May Company stock. She loved to sew. Her handmade quilts that she designed and sewed to match each of us uniquely is proof. She loved to entertain and was always planning a dinner or fish fry. She brought her food from afar back when Aldi grocery first opened in Southern Illinois. I distinctly remember making the three hour trip, filling 3 shopping carts with cases of canned goods, stacking them to the ceiling of Aunt Sissie's van, and then organizing our own "grocery store” in her 3 closet pantries in her Bunkum Road basement. 

Speaking of the basement, what fun we had down there as kids. At Christmastime the cousins would dodge the potatoes growing eyes, and play store behind the counter, or rehearse a skit to be performed for the adults upstairs.

Grandma loved to cook. She was good at it. Most of us can attest to that because she showed her love by serving in her kitchen. If you close your eyes and breathe deeply, you can almost smell her yeast rolls baking in the oven. If you were her pastor, neighbor, hairdresser, mechanic or ride to church, she showed you her love at Christmas with an Italian Cream cake. When she discovered what her favorite people enjoyed, she made sure to have it ready when they came: fruit salad for Boo Boo, pecan pie for John John, cheesecake for Jayme, blackberry pie for Butch, and egg custard for Todd and Jeremi, who never had the heart to tell her that he really didn't like it.  She gave up trying to please me with my “health-nut” “no butter please” way of eating. My kids thrilled at the idea of exchanging my boring oatmeal for her special Malt-o-meal. She  claimed there was just a little butter and brown sugar but nobody was fooled. 

She was generous with her talent, and used it for kingdom work. She knew how to organize a church fund-raiser. I was very little but can still remember the peanut brittle factory in her basement. When she called out "shakers" that meant she had just added the baking soda to the peanut brittle and little "crumb catchers" like me had to scramble to the basement stairs to get out of the way. At least two church ladies were needed to relay--carrying metal tins of boiling peanut brittle to rest and cool before being popped out and bagged up to sell. If I remember, it was $5 for a bag of two patties. How proud we were to have a brand new blacktop paved parking lot at the church--completely paid for by the ladies auxiliary.

Having such talent did have some drawbacks however. She loved home-cooking, and sought out mom-and-pop restaurants when they would take a trip to Southern Illinois or Sesser. Inevitably when the food would arrive she would take a bite and then call the server over. "I'm so sorry, I never do this, but this just isn't fit to eat." 

There was one thing with which she struggled, and I could empathize because it is one of the things I have inherited from her: she had a particular aversion for water. I do believe every trick in the book has been tried to get and keep her hydrated. Gatorade, coconut water, infused water, flavor packets, big glasses, small glasses, stem glasses, colored straws, and lots of bottles by every chair. One trick that seemed to work was when we gave her a bottle of water at the beginning of a drive to Uncle Bud's house. We hid the bottle cap so she could not lay it in the seat and was forced to hold it. "Gimme that lid!" She said, but it was “lost.” She sipped on it without even thinking as we chatted and by the time we got there all 16 ounces was gone. That was quite a feat for her.

Grandma has left such a rich legacy but the thing that I will cherish most is not her hot roll recipe, or her stainless steel or even her hand embroidered heirloom quilt. I will always honor Grandma and Grandpa for the day they accepted the call of God and submitted to this precious Truth.  That was the greatest gift they could ever have given to us. They were the one who paved the way for us and now I can pass this hope for eternal life down to my children and they can pass it down to their children. It is that very hope and relationship with Jesus Christ that is sustaining us today. Grandma was not wealthy with this world’s possessions, but the gift of the Holy Ghost that she had received made her rich beyond measure.  The  inheritance I will get will not go through probate, I wouldn't trade it for anything—it is out of this world. 

I asked her what she would say if she had the opportunity to share some wisdom and advice gleaned from 93 years. I knew what her answer would be.  She said: "Always live for God and put Him first." Yesterday when I had some alone time with her, I promised her and God that I would make it to heaven.  I've got more to go to heaven for than I had last week.  So Grandma, let's meet just inside the Eastern Gate over there. 

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Closet Make-Over

This year Thanksgiving was a bit unusual at the Treadwell household. We broke from tradition just a bit. For the past few years, we have chosen to spend Christmas in St. Louis with my side of the family, and this leaves us in Texas with our immediate five for Thanksgiving. We are okay with that now, but this year was unusual in a different way. We still had the usual fare, sticking to our tradition of each person contributing a cooked dish of their own: I make the turkey, Craig carves it; Tiffani made a quinoa pilaf; Jeremi his famous mashed potatoes; Bethani the dressing and sweet potato casserole; and I made the cranberry chutney.

This year, however, we decided to give our master closet a make-over on Thanksgiving day.Our old closet was really nice, but we (I) wanted amazing.



OLD CLOSET





I helped to pull all the clothes and stuff out of the closet, and then the kids and I worked in the kitchen while Craig was tearing out the closet rods, and patching the holes.




















We ate dinner as usual at noon while the spackling dried.

When the china was all replaced in the cabinet, I changed into painting clothes, and put a faux finish on our closet walls. (No pictures please.)


When I finished with that project, up went the new ELFA CLOSET SYSTEM.
>



Amazingly awesome!

In my defense, my secular career dictates that I wear solid clothing that contrasts with the color of my hands. This makes it much easier for Deaf clients to see what I am signing. It really cramps my style, but I'm getting used to it. I have, however, found a way to express myself: through my feet. Works for me. (That is my story and I am sticking to it.)




The kids are really excited about our closet makeover. Why? They love us and want the best for us. (And they get our old organization elements for a closet makeover of their own.) All five of us have a new look in our closets!

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

First Day of School

Monday was our first day back in the schoolroom for the 14th time. It does feel a little empty now with one desk missing. We are left with just a 6th and 11th grader, but we bought a few new boxes of crayons anyway. The first day of school just wouldn't be the same without new boxes of perfectly sharpened crayons--age and grade have nothing to do with it.

Tiffani is very responsible, getting up on her own every morning for work. I wonder if she misses
A Beka at all...hmmm...just a little?? Naw.

What a wonderfully fun-filled summer we had this year. We traveled to Pensacola, FL; Pismo Beach and Santa Barbara, CA; Indianapolis, IN; St. Louis, MO; Austin, TX; Miami, and Key West, FL; and last but not least, Nassau and Coco Cay, Bahamas. We were sad for the summer to end, but are up for the challenge of a new school year.

I have many new and exciting doors open to me this fall as an interpreter, and I anticipate improving my skill enough to be able to test again for a higher certification within a year.


Thursday, December 17, 2009

Christmas 2009

Here is a family picture of us last week at Pastor Gore's church. We are ready for two weeks of fun at Nana's house.



Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Baby Things

Here is my most recent project. I always wanted this piece of the layette with Bethani. You know, it is awkward enough when a new mother must get up in church and walk out with her baby. Adding the huge diaper bag on her shoulder, trying to wriggle her body (not yet back to its normal size) out of the pew and down the aisle only exaccerbates the situation. Diapers and wipes. That's all you really need--right?




This makes for a less conspicuous departure. :)

Monday, August 17, 2009

Sunday's Tow Truck

Pow! "What was that?" Craig said. "I guess there was something in the road that I didn't see."

This Sunday was a typical preaching out weekend for us. We were only 1 hour away in Lewisville with Pastor and Sister Sales. Generally, by the time the last Amen is said on a Sunday night, I am ready to head for my bed. Yesterday was no exception, and as is normally the case, I was the 'mean ol mom' that said "no" to going out to eat with the pastor after church.

We had only been on the road for 5 minutes when we heard the loud "Pow!" We continued to exit the highway in search of a Taco Bell drive thru (they were 'starving to death' you know.) As we came off the exit ramp, the car began acting really strangely. The lightbulb came on in Craig's head and he said, "Oh, I know what it is, we blew a tire!" We pulled into the first parking lot we could find, got out, and sure enough, there it was--flat as a pancake!

Not to worry, though, we had a spare tire in the trunk and two strong, capable men to change it. (The directions folded up in the case of the jack didn't hurt anything either.) We girls just stood back and watched the men do their manly work. It all would have worked out great...if the spare had air in it. Ahm...

Not to worry, though, we have kept up our roadside assistance insurance since our trailer traveling days, and now we were going to get a return on that investment. (There went my goal of being in my own bed by 10:15.) Craig made the phone call, and then came back and told us that it could take up to 45 minutes for the tow truck to arrive. I took the pins out of my hair, shed my shoes, and curled up for a nap. I was jarred awake by the door slamming, and the bright emergency lights of the tow truck. We all got out of the car, and I plopped down on the sidewalk in my Sunday Best as we all watched the 20 minute drama of hoisting my dream car onto the bed of the tow truck. Craig's plan was to go to a nearby gas station and fill the tire with air, and then be on our way home. This was not to be. Apparently, one must fill the tire with air BEFORE putting it on the car.

NOW WHAT TO DO??? All 6 of us piled into the cab of the tow truck and bounced 50 minutes home. (Sorry Craig about your legs.)