"Packing for the Trip"

 I remember my flight getting bumped, for a DC9

 full of G.I.'s, during the "Viet Nam" war.

 I was only 13, and on a flight to L.A.X. from Montana.

 (by myself, I know, what were they thinking?) 

Soldiers everywhere, and perfect gentleman. 

I felt like a little princess surrounded by knights in uniform.

 I carried my suitcase, and tennis racket on the plane. 

I had been away for an entire month,

and had everything I would possibly need

in my petite suitcase.

 5 blouses, 5 pairs of shorts, jambies, swimsuit,

 "Ked's" tennis shoes, sandals, socks. 

I carried my transistor radio in my purse,

 with my cosmetic bag, toothbrush, travel size soap, etc.

As I grew up, I traveled more.

Sometimes I packed to much stuff! 

Trying to carry all those bags, 

it didn't take me long to learn: 

 "Pack,"

 only what I needed!

 ONLY what I needed!

"Hummingbird Honey"

Recipe

By, Cheryl Harwell Bailey

This is it. After years of trial and error, 

I finally found the perfect balance about 5 years ago. The sweetie heart hummingbirds can't get enough, and empty the feeder's daily. I call it "Hummingbird Honey!" 

What You Will Need

Hummingbird Feeders

Dutch Oven

Measuring Cup

Funnel

Wooden Spoon

Stove

Gallon Container

Sugar

Water

Pot Pad

Recipe 

3 Cups Sugar

9 Cups Water

Boil until sugar is completely dissolved

in Dutch Oven, stirring often

Cool to Room Temperature

Funnel into Clean Empty Gallon Container

Such as "Milk Jug"

Using Funnel Again

Fill "Hummingbird Feeder's"

Hang Feeder's Outdoors

Tiny Miracle's

"Treasure Box"

By, Cheryl Harwell Bailey

 You just think, "YOUR" in control, but your "Godly" destiny cannot be thwarted!

 Not by the devil himself.

This week, I am reminded how my life would have been totally different.

 If circumstances had not changed.

I have a "Treasure Box!"

It contains memories I rarely look at, or mention.

I have some "Ribbons,"

in my box.

"Mom" how did you teach Conner to swim so fast?

"Olympics!"

"WHAT?"

"You? No way!"

"WAY!"

Yes, I was honored to be asked to represent,

 "The United States of America" in the "Summer Olympics." 

"Women's Swimming Competition."

During training, a terrifying family crisis took place.

 Back home in California my baby and only sister was in an accident, not expected to survive.

 Run over by a car, crushing her skull, 

among multiple injuries.

 I flew home that day, so grateful she was alive.

The heart for training was gone.

It went into my precious sister, as it should.

 Many months later she fully recovered.

  My life went in another direction.

A "BETTER" direction!

I would not trade my wonderful life for 10 "Gold Medals!"

You just never know,

 what

  "Grandmother,"

 has,

in her 

"Box!"

True Story.

"Happy Birthday America!"

The 4th of July

By Cheryl Harwell Bailey 

Freedom

Flag

Faith

Founding Fathers

Family

Fireworks

Food

Fireflies

Fifty

Forge

Flares

Firelight

"Blessed Boy's"

My mother and father's DNA comes from 
the British Isles, with some "Cherokee" on both sides.
 As one can imagine I love my heritage. 
The two cultures are opposites. 
Each equally beautiful to me. 
I look like a blond, blue eyed, "Cherokee." 

Raised in Bakersfield, California, I was exposed to my 
Native American roots everyday.
I never imagined in my wildest dreams, 
I would be exposed to my British heritage. 
 Traveling through Wales, England, and Scotland,
 on two different occasions.
 We stayed in Oxford, Windsor, London, & Harwell, 
spending several days in each place.
 Allow me to share one of my memories."

I spent a day at "Eton." 
During the time "Prince William" attended. 
It is an old all boy's school, "college." 
 The attire was not "California Cowboy!"
 Those boys were wearing black tuxedo's! 
With tails!

 

It is a stunning ancient campus, and I, 
the person who looked out of place, 
being a woman dressed in modern day attire.

 There was a "little store" within the stone structures. 
I just had to explore.
 It was a cross between "a little corner store"
 from the 1940's and a "7 eleven."
 Everything, 
from sewing notions,
 shoe polish, and candy bars. 
Full of boys dressed in formal wear buying snacks. 
When I made an inquiry as to some dishcloths,
 they all started talking to me. 
"Oh! Your an American! We like your accent.
 I would like to go to CALIFORNIA." And so it went.
 They were exactly like the boy's in my Sunday School class. Exactly like my grandsons. Regular boys with no pretense. This was even more enjoyable to me than going sightseeing. It was a bit of "all right!"

Like yesterday afternoon. 
The spring rain purified the air. 
The sky was perfect blue, against the lush green oak, 
maple, and poplar trees. 
The weather never better,
 the birds & I singing hymns, 
as we watched my big hens peck the clover.

 I heard familiar little voices, looked down by the creek, 
and there they were. 
Caeden, Ben, and, Westin, (the 8 week old yellow lab.)
 I just sat there and watched the "service."
 I worshiped my Creator for giving me
 eye's to see such true beauty.
 I praised Him for my hearing ears, 
as I listened to boyish whispers, puppy barks, 
and giggles shattering the quiet. 
When they saw me, they came running,
 talking to me as they came.
 "Where do labs come from anyway, Grandmother?"
More than a bit of "all right!"

"Happy Mother's Day!"

I think my Mama must have been born "singing." I've known her all my life, and she is the "singingest" person I have ever met.

She sings when she's happy, and she sings when she's sad. She even writes her own songs. Hundreds of them! The older she gets, the more she sings. She plays a "Kazoo" in a senior citizens band, sings in a quartet, and sings solo on the bus.

Recently Mama had to go through three major surgeries. 

As they were wheeling her down the hallway, to the operating room, we, along with the entire hospital, could hear her singing, "Love lifted Me!" The "Doctor" said it was the first time anyone had ever held a musical concert for him while on the operating table. Instead of having her count backwards, while going under the anesthesia, she and the doctor sang "How Great Thou Art" together.

Her singing has touched many people, most of all her children. "God surely gave us a special song, when He gave us our dear "Mom!"

This true story was written by my mother, "Carolyn Donaldson Harwell" in 1982. My "Grandmother," Vivian Juanita Bowen Donaldson fully recovered, and lived to be 88 years young.

"Like Grandfather, Like Son"

This blog is going to get me in all kinds of trouble!
 With my teenage grand boy, but I can't pass this up!