Pat took me for coffee and sweet rolls this morning and we were talking about the things that members of our family have done.  I told her that I missed playing my marimba.  The pandemic shut that down.

I have two marimbas.  I keep one broken down in the trunk of my car ready to go.  Another is in the family room and I play it every time I get up and let the dog out the back door.  I used to play all the time.  She said that I played for her wedding!  I had forgotten that.  She said she asked me to play “Bless This House.”  That was an appropriate choice!

I played “When They Ring those Golden Bells” for Ken’s father’s funeral.  And “Amazing Grace” for at least a dozen others.  Used to play for Rotary Club, Methodist men’s meetings, etc. at least once a month.  I’ve been doing that for since I was fifteen.

My hands aren’t as nimble as they used to be.  I remember playing “Flight of the Bumble Bee” for some civic group once.  Two mallets--which is harder than playing with four.  You are all over the keyboard with two.

Now, I do hymns.  Three or four mallets.  Slow.  For some reason, God has spared my hands and fingers from arthritis.  I am thankful.  I can still do something useful with my hands.  Play the marimba and type.  Praise God.  It is good to be able to do something that other people like.

I have never understood Black Friday.  It is insane--like fish swarming to a spawning area.  What could I possibly need bad enough to get out there and get run down by a mob.  I don’t get it.  Just to save money on something I probably don’t need anyway??  But I know some people love it.  I must be a mutant.

My friend Sue Rucker just got the Texas constitution changed.  That is a huge--HUGE--accomplishment.  Her husband Fred had a stroke in 2020, had to be placed in a care facility, and the government said she couldn’t go in and be with him.  Yes, that’s what I said--the Government.  Same as the Nazi’s did when they separated families to go to their deaths.

Fred was there a year.  Sue could only put her hand on a window to see him and talk on their phones. There was no loving comfort for the suffering Fred endured.  For a year, he lay there.  The unvaccinated attendants could go in, the plumber, repairmen, but not Sue.  Fred died after a year and a half--without any family by his side.  And this happened over and over again all over America.  Families were separated from their “Incarcerated” loved ones by government edict.  It will never happen again in Texas.  Sue joined with forty others, got enough signatures on a petition, and passed not only a law, but a constitutional rewrite.  It will never happen again in Texas.  It should never happen again in America anywhere.  Write your congressman.

Have a blessed day.  We lift our hearts for the things God has given us and pray for peace in the world.

Instead of complaining about the things that are wrong in our lives--and there are many things wrong--let us praise Him for the things that are right.

We are blessed like no other nation or people on earth.

I don’t think I’ve told you about when the Klan came and got my mother?  She was about thirteen years old.  There was a knock at her parent’s door and when her father opened it, there were a few white-hooded Klan’s men at the door.

“We want Margie Swan,” they told him.  They were all frightened, but my mother said, “I’ll go.”  And she did.  Her parents were terrified.

They took her to a wooded area where hundreds of other hooded men were gathered and set her up on a ledge.  Two of her friends were there on the ledge as well.  

The head of the Klan told the girls, “Sing.”  The girls were part of a group that was known in the area for their musical skills, so they sang.  They were the evening’s entertainment.

“I wasn’t scared,” my mother said.  (Those of you who knew my mom would understand that!) “Until they took their hoods off--then I was scared.  I knew these men from town, businesses, church.  I was shocked that they were Klan’s men.  And it was frightening that they were involved in something like that.  But the worst was that they knew--that I now knew--who they were.  And they knew who I was. My feeling of being safe in my home was never the same after that.”  

I actually accomplished something yesterday.  You know those funny things that are in Reader’s Digest...I thought why not send one in.  So I did.  This is what I wrote:

When I was teaching my granddaughter her address, I asked her what town she lived in.  She said, "Miami.”  Then I asked her what town I lived in and she said, “Grammies ami.”  The slow of wit won’t get it probably, but I thought it was funny.

After I stopped laughing, I asked her where her mother lived, and as expected by that point she said, “Mommies ami.”

I have no idea what she thought an ami was.

Pat is on her way to get me to go get a sweet roll and coffee.  My car is in the shop.  I gave my other car away to my grandson and now I need it.  However Craig brought me one of theirs.  I just don’t want to drive it because all the switches and buttons are in the wrong place.  It would take me fifteen minutes to get it out of the driveway.

I got all of the dressing ingredients cooked.  Now all I have to do is put them together.  Ken always tasted it at that point to tell me if I had the right amount of spices.  Now, it’s a toss up.

Sunday, because it is Thanksgiving week, we quit the story of Abraham right smack dab in the middle and looked at the one-hundredth Psalm.  Which presents itself as a song of Praise and Thanksgiving.  

I was thinking, “How am I going to fill forty-five minutes with five verses.  (It is a very short Psalm.)  However, in reading it, I found that only one verse, the last one, is about praise.  The body of it is instructional.  And since I am an application teacher, it gave me something to teach.

Here’s how it goes:

1. Make a joyful noise (everybody)  2. Serve the Lord with Gladness.        3. Come before his presence with singing. 4. Know that the Lord, he is God.   5.  Acknowledge that he has made us, we haven’t made ourselves.  6. He is our Shepherd, we are his sheep--stop trying to lead, let him lead. 7. Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise.  8. Be thankful to him. 9. Bless His name.

I guess if we got all of those things done that we are instructed to do, we could say that we were on the right path.  Basically they are joyful things.  So we need to concentrate on who God is, not on what we want him to do. ACTS: Adore, Confess, Thank, then....Supplicate (ask). 

The last verse is praise.  “For the Lord is good, his mercy is everlasting, and his truth endures to all generations.”  Just think how many generations that the truth of the written word has endured.  Bibles are everywhere in the world.  The problem is getting people to actually read them.  Read!!

I am going to take today off.  Have a good day!!

My friend Sally called this morning.  It made my day.  She is such an uplifting person.  By the time she hung up, I was laughing.

Becky brought me so much food this week, I won’t have to go out to eat for a month.  I divided it, wrapped portions and froze them.

As for going out to eat...Tuesdays are Kentucky Fried Chicken days.  When I got there, they were closed and I had to drive ten miles west to find another one because I had my mind set on fried chicken. And of course, on the way there, the light saying I needed gas flicked on.  Now, I am fifteen miles from the gas station and that’s when the suspension on my car went south.   I think I will give up on chicken for awhile.

Craig got an appointment for my car to be fixed next Tuesday and he said he will give me a car to drive while they are fixing it.

People.  They are the lights that brighten our days. And get us through the bad moments.  You need positive people in your life.  Avoid the ones who are negative and hurtful.  You will get enough of that by accident.

I got my fried chicken and the lady who handed it to me said, “God bless you!” 

My perm didn’t take.   Straight as a string this morning.  Hairdresser said to come in at three and she would see what was going on.  Bummer.

I got to hold my new great-grandson last night for thirty minutes.  He is the prettiest baby.  Doesn’t look like a new-born at all.  Calm, doesn’t seem to be bothered by noise.  Why didn’t I have babies like that?

Craig said there was legislation going on to promote diversity in the Marine Corps.  The Corps has always been diverse--when you join.  Then they use boot camp to make you stop thinking as an individual and think as a group.  A Marine will die for the Marine next to them.  They are a true band of brothers.  Count on our government to mess up something that works. Ken said that nobody fights for their country (it sounds patriotic) when the attack begins, they fight for the guy next to them.

Ken’s bunk mate at flight school was Frank Peterson.   First black man to go to flight school after WW2.  They flew together and remained friends for life.  Scott called Frank, told him he was Ken’s son and got Frank to come to Bartlesville to speak.  Frank was the first black aviator to make General in the USMC.  He went to flight school in the early fifties--followed by many others. And held in high esteem by all.  Marines are Marines.  They don’t care if you are polka-dotted as long as you are in the trench or air beside them.  But count on our government to mess up something they need to leave alone.  We have many races in the Marines who are Generals now.  Let them lead.  They know how to do it and it isn’t by listening to one individual who thinks he is being picked on. He needs to be sent back to boot camp. 

Spent the morning at the hairdressers getting a cut and perm.  I no longer look like a shaggy dog.  Jennifer (Becky’s sons wife) is going to bring the baby over for me to hold. They named him Ken Jack Johnston.  What a tribute to Ken Jacks. 

Jeannine brought me brown beans.  Becky and Craig brought me enchiladas and something I don’t know what it is but it looks good and smells delicious.  I have enough food to get me through the week.  Thank God for people who help people like me--who need a little of their help.  

Pat told me I was living on junk food, which is true except when people have mercy on me.  Pat also said she wasn’t going to get on my case because I am a grown woman and know better.  That’s good.  I go to Kentucky Fried and eat a thigh and leg once a week.  And Brahms hamburgers once a week.  I like their hamburgers because they put extra lettuce and tomatoes on for me.  No cheese.  Ever.  All the burger places use American cheese instead of the real stuff.  It tastes like melted glue.

I wrote about Abraham yesterday.  You would think by the time he had a child by Sarah’s maid he would have figured out that God’s plan was better than his or Sarah’s.  But no.  They moved again and he told the ruler of the next place they went  that Sarah was his sister.  He keeps repeating things that didn’t work the last time he did them.  Doing the same thing expecting a different outcome.  And God keeps loving him and trying to give him direction.

Abraham is going to get it right in the end.  It just takes him a little bit of time to get there.  Sounds like someone I know.  Sounds like a lot of people I know.  Sounds like me, too.

 Abraham is a study in human behavior.  He packs his family up and leaves his home in Ur.  However, God says for him to leave his family behind.  But Abraham allows Lot and his people to come with him.  He obeyed, but disobeyed in the process.

Then there is a famine and Abraham takes everyone to Egypt--and lies to Pharaoh--telling him that Sarah is his sister.  So Pharaoh takes Sarah for his wife.  And plagues beset all of Egypt, punishment for all the innocent people for something that was Abraham’s fault.  Pharaoh didn’t know he was doing something wrong.  Neither did the people.

Then, since God was slow in fulfilling his promise to Abraham that Sarah would have his child, he takes Sarah’s maid Hagar--at Sarah’s suggestion--and impregnates her.  Producing Ishmael--the father of the Arab nations.  Another problem--for all of us today.  All from disobedience.  Putting the Ishmaelites--Arabs--against the Jews forever.

Flawed people.  But God loved them.  It gives us hope.  We too, are flawed.  And God continues to love us.  

It is a good thing because we don’t seem to fulfill what He has in mind for us.  But we need to continue our journey toward obedience to God.  It is by far the best path.  And comes with his blessing.

It’s Friday again!!  I don’t know where the week goes.  Ann will come get me, we will go to breakfast, then to garage sales, I’ll get my hair done and it will be noon before I get to do my crossword.

Craig, Becky’s husband told me that there is a new publisher who has opened in Edmond.  I’m chasing rainbows at this point trying to find a publisher that will take the second book I’ve written.  Pat tells me that it was an act of God to get a publisher on my first try.

I’m not giving up.   The story of Ken’s time in Korea is worth printing, and the story of my brother’s time in China is just as important.

I’m just an observer.  There are people who did things that were heroic, and people who write about what they did.  Neither of those two men would have ever thought of writing their stories.  I’m just the writer who knows what they did.  

I could self-publish, but then you don’t get the advertising, and most important the libraries.  But it may come to that. The money is negligible unless it is a big hit.  Self publishing--you pay them.  Traditional publishing--they buy the book.  That’s what happened to my first book.  They bought it.  I guess is was a miracle for a first timer.

Thanksgiving is coming.  I said I would never make dressing again, but I am repenting and going to do it again.  Chopping celery, onions, making cornbread.  I can do it ahead of time and bake it on Thanksgiving day.

I went to a veteran’s celebration at my church for lunch.  When they asked Marines to stand, I stood up for Ken.  He deserves to be remembered even though he has gone to guard the skies of heaven.  Probably buzzing the gates in an A-4 or an F-9.

I finally returned to see the back pain guy.  He brought my back film up for me to look at, and told me it wasn’t good.  I looked at the film--and since I’ve dissected and taken anatomy classes--I realized that what I’ve got is what I’ve got.  It isn’t pretty.  So.  That’s that.  Surgery won’t help.  Bones are old and worn out, crooked and a mess.  Solution to the problem:  Don’t get old.  It helps to know--because I can quit looking for a cure and start living with what I’ve got to live with.  I’ll figure that out. 

My son Scott tore up his knee and shoulder playing baseball.  He hurts all the time.  If he can do it, I can too. And Scott and Ken are the two toughest people I’ve ever known.

God is good.  He never gives us more that we can manage.  It really makes the idea of getting a new body when we get to heaven an attractive concept.  And when we get our heavenly body, it worn’t wear out.  Just think!!! Eternity with no war, no sinful people, no people who lie to you, no sickness, no pain. There was an old song that said, “There’s a great day comin’ bye and bye!”  And bye and bye is getting closer and closer.

It is Wednesday again.  Bean day for the Kerleys that used to live next door.  They are a mile or so away now, but we still do “Bean day.”  I usually make the cornbread and greens and she does the beans and fried okra.  It is such a help for people like me who live alone--when someone helps with dinner.  Red beans, white beans, brown beans or lima beans. Take a plate to someone who lives alone.  It means a lot.

Jennifer, my granddaughter-in-law across the street who bought the house I used to live in, texted that the baby will be here Friday if he doesn’t come sooner.  That will make eight great-grand babies for me.  I can’t remember everyone’s birthday there are so many.  Ten grand children as well as children and all their spouses as well.

Like I said, a bunch of people that I didn’t know when I married Ken sixty five years ago.

I can't believe it is November.  These last two years have evaporated.  I hope we never see another one like 2020.  What an awful experience.  And some of the people I used to see at church never came back.  Broken habits are hard to renew.  I’m teaching my class and going to church again, and going to Wednesday night teacher’s meetings, but that’s it.  I seldom see anyone else that goes to my church.  Being single is very single!! 

I actually accomplished a lot yesterday.  You know those pieces of mail that ask for money--and always get doubled up around Christmas.  Normally I throw them out all year and pick the ones I help out in November.  They could save a lot of postage by mailing me their information once.  Once.  In November.

I got the ones I support taken care of and cleared half the paper on the floor.  The donations are in the mail.  That’s done for the year.  So many of them are fake.  They just rip people off and don’t help anyone.  You can find the % of your donation on line that actually goes to what they advertise.  It’s worth a look. 

We all want to help legitimate charities.  I make sure the ones I help don’t fund the founder!  Some of them are rip-offs. Some are true blessings.

And this time of year is when I try to help the Lottie Moon offering.  For missionaries who need special equipment or supplies.  Bicycles, tents, post-hole diggers and a million other things that aren’t normal supplies.  Our church sets aside a percentage for this once a year, but I like to give it independently so it is added to what the church does.  Having a brother who spent 37 years in China as a missionary let me know just what they go through to get what they need.

This time of year is when we think about these things.

I had three things I had to do today, and I had them all done by ten in the morning.  Now...what do you do with the rest of the day?  I had my personal shopper (Ha! It is my friend Jeanette) get me a card organizer on Amazon, so I went to her house and got all my cards organized.  

I had been having to go through all of the cards every time I was looking for a particular card.  True to my disorganized nature about small things, they were all in one place stacked together.  Much like the paper that comes into the house.  Totally disorganized.

Paper is my downfall.  I throw most of the mail out--unopened.  The rest I lay on the floor next to my chair to deal with later, so there is always a rat’s nest next to my chair.  Since I have been having back problems, I have spent a lot of time in the chair surrounded by paper.

My intentions are good, but being a procrastinator hasn’t helped.  I do try to get the bills paid the minute they come in.  That’s about it.  I throw out the Oklahoma paper except for the crossword and puzzles.  No point in reading much that is in it.  It’s yesterday’s news.  However, sometimes there are local events and happenings that are interesting.  The sports section goes in the trash unopened.  I’m not an athlete, and if my children hadn’t been so involved in athletics, I wouldn’t have known anything about any type of thing like that.  I read.  I guess I would be considered a nerd.

Thanksgiving is coming.  It is the one day in the year that all of my people get together--and find out who is in the family.  Last time I counted, there were 46 or 47 of them.  Little did Ken and I know what was in the future when we got married.  I passed by a picture of us taken at our wedding the other day and thought, “Girl, (18 years old and laughing) you have no idea what it coming in the next 57 years.

We were cutting the wedding cake with his sword, his hand is over mine.  It is a priceless picture.  And this year would have been our 65th year if Ken was still with me.  

I moved to California four times, Virginia twice, Oklahoma every time he went overseas--which was a regular occurrence. South  Carolina, Pensacola Florida.  He would come home and get to be the good guy, spoil the kids and leave again.  

When he retired, he had some sort of idea that he was in charge.  I handed him the check book and said, “Go for it.”  He gave it all back in two months and said, “I don’t know how you did it all.”  Truth is, I don’t know either.  I guess we just both did what we had to do and got it done.  The country owes him a debt of gratitude.  But I always think that when they ask veterans  to stand on November 11 in our church, they ought to ask their children to stand as well.  They also served.

 All my potted plants are inside for the winter.  April is coming.  I will try to plant okra again.  Planted it two times this year and rabbits ate all of it both times.  I’m thinking about putting clear glass canning jars over each plant and giving that a try next year.

Today is my friend Jeanette’s birthday.  I’m going to take her to lunch.  She usually drives and says, “I’m driving Miss Daisy.”

Teacher’s meeting last night was (once again) a hoot.  I always go with my questions ready because everyone who is there is a pretty good student of scripture.  Problem is, I ask questions and everyone looks at me like I’m nuts.  I’m the only woman in the room, and I guess I have different questions than men do.  And that’s when the fun begins.  I seldom get an answer to my questions.  

Very little of what is discussed in Wednesdays teacher’s meeting makes it into the lesson on Sunday. Background information for the most part.  The men always want to discuss where Abraham is during the conversion of the week.  They bring maps.  I don’t ever use a map. I just want to know what Abraham is thinking.  God speaks to him.  I want to know how.  The Bible doesn’t say how God spoke except once--in a vision.  They wanted to determine the moment when Abraham was “Saved.”  I felt like when he listened to God and packed up to go to Canaan was an important moment.  He didn’t know where he was going, but he trusted God. None of them agreed.  Interesting conversation.

Lisa, my sister, got back from a week in Italy (her daughter lives there while her husband is stationed with the military) and found out that her dog--a small schnauzer--was missing.  They live in an area with coyotes and such types of wild animals.  Of course she is heart broken.  It doesn’t look good.  

Squig hasn’t felt well today.  He is shaking all over.  We will go to the vet tomorrow to see what is going on.  Carolyn’s (Pryor friend) dog Pablo has been sick as well. He has Pancreatitus. (That is spelled wrong?) She lives alone also.  Pablo is her world. 

I spend more on Squig than I do on myself.  After your children are grown, your dog becomes your best friend.

I have been reading Genesis, the 12th chapter on, about Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Joseph and his brothers--and all of the others.  I don’t know when I read it last.  It’s been a while.  They were people like us.  Flawed.  The Bible shows people as they are--good and bad. 

God keeps loving them.  It gives us hope.

Well, I got my booster today.  Haven’t had a reaction to any of it.  First one last January. Second in February.  Doin’ what I can to put the book of Proverbs to work.  “Get wisdom, and with your getting, get understanding.”  Having a pre-med degree helps understand it and make a choice....  

My brother, Dr. Swan, said “Get the shot.”  He’s smart as a whip; he saved my life when I was 34 years old.  Seven different doctors told me that what I was telling them was all in my head. There was nothing wrong with me.  Bill listened.  I had a tumor in my heart that was killing me.  Couldn’t get oxygen to the old noggin.  Nobody had ever had that before.  I was a world first recorded case.   I trust my brother.

I had measles before the measles shot was available and almost died.  I was three years old, and I remember the room, the house, and the quilts my mom hung to block out the light so the light wouldn’t hurt my eyes.  If a shot kills me, so be it.  But with a year behind me with no after-effects, I’m good.  I remember polio...we didn’t wait to see how that one was going to turn out either.  One of my classmates was permanently crippled.   Now, polio is eradicated in America. 

So get the shot---or don’t get the shot.  I’m just telling you what I did.  I have never been one of those people who say, “It’s in the hands of God.”  If that was true , he wouldn’t have given us so many Biblical instructions in the book of Proverbs to help us make choices.  I call Proverbs “The book of buts.”  If you do this, this will happen BUT, if you do that, that is what will happen.  Verse after verse with a “but” in the middle.  Wisdom book.

 

 My sweet friend in Pryor, Amy Smith, writes notes of encouragement to people. (I think mostly older people?)  She has been sending me notes for years.  Her children have grown up--since I left Pryor and moved to Edmond.  One of the hopes that I have for all of my Pryor friends is that we will spend eternity together and I can catch up on all I have missed.

I was sick at my stomach all week and the only thing I could keep down was the hot yeast rolls that Kathy (in Pryor also) baked and sent me when Becky Bacon (also in Pryor) brought me when she came to see me a couple of weeks ago.  I froze them and break off one or two at a time.  I have been blessed with so many good people who are my friends.  I love them every one.

Some medicine my doctor gave me was what made me sick--but I was slow to figure that out.  Pain or nausea--I’ll take pain every time.  

My friend Rebecca Perkins is coming next week.  She is going to set me up with a publisher she knows.  What would we do without friends?  

My book is still in the works but printing has gummed up the works.  My frustration is in the stratosphere.