I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: family life

  • 4th. of July Peach Ice Cream, Peach Cobbler, Peachy Family and Friends

    4th. of July Peach Ice Cream, Peach Cobbler, Peachy Family and Friends


    Pretty celebrates the 4th of July in our pool with granddaughters Ella and Molly, their first cousin Caleb who shares a large blue noodle with special friend Mary Carter while Caleb’s daddy Seth throws a tennis ball to them. Summer pool regulars Saskia and her son Finn shown in the background keep a close eye on four-year-old Ella making the turn from the deep water toward the steps where the action is.

    The smile on Pretty a/k/a Nana’s face equals the joy on Ella’s face whether it is the 4th of July or any other day the two of them are able to find water for a swim. Number One Son Drew, the father of our granddaughters, laughed from his lounge chair in the sun where he is the happiest and said, I sure am glad the water craze skipped a generation.

    Daughter-in-law Caroline made my day with homemade peach ice cream that was the most delicious EVER; her twin sister Chloe made equally yummy fresh peach cobbler which luckily had leftovers that were “left over” in our refrigerator for tomorrow’s breakfast.

    Life is good for us on this 4th of July – my hope is that wherever you are this holiday weekend, you take a moment to reflect upon the sacrifices made by those who went before us to assert our right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness whether it’s in a swimming pool or watching Wimbledon on ESPN+ from the comfort of a favorite recliner.

    Charly and Carl are exhausted from entertaining

    Please stay tuned.

  • Texas Beer Joints – and the Undecided

    Texas Beer Joints – and the Undecided


    Personal milestones are typically meaningless to others; but as I approach number 1,000 of these I’ll Call It Like I See It posts over the past fourteen years I decided to visit the archives with the objective of identifying some of my favorites. This one was originally published in Septemer, 2016. Return with me to those thrilling days of yesteryear. Uh, oh. The Undecided are probably still Undecided.

    When I was a little tomboy growing up in southeast Texas, I had dreams of one day – sometime somewhere – being able to go to a beer joint. My family was Southern Baptist and the very mention of an adult alcoholic beverage would send my mother into horrible face contortions and very loud condemnations of beer and beer drinkers. Beer joints were the epitome of evil. Naturally her hyperbole aroused my curiosity.

    My mother’s aunts, my grandmother’s German sisters, worshipped at the Church of the Blessed Beer Joint, however, and I loved to listen to their tales when they came from Bright Lights, Big City Houston to visit us in No Lights, Tiny Town Richards. They were a personal trip for me…and a glimpse of possibilities for me down the road.

    The road did bring me to my share of beer joints in my adult life, although I confess I never shared the same enthusiasm for them as my Aunt Dessie and Aunt Selma did. Most of the ones I went to when I got old enough were drab, dingy, smoke-filled rooms with a jukebox, a few old tables and a bar with stools too tall for me to belly up to easily. I loved the jukebox more than the taste of the Lone Star beer.

    As the fickle finger of fate would have it, Teresa and I moved back to Texas in 2010 and bought a home on Worsham Street in Montgomery, Texas – only 18 miles from Richards. We drove many times to visit my family in the Fairview Cemetery outside of Richards and on one of those drives up Highway 105  I discovered the Texas beer joint of my childhood dreams in the little town of Dobbin. Some dreams really do come true!

    023

    We stopped for the burgers and bbq

    021

    020

    Best burgers EVER

    007

    We waited in the bar which the owner Bobby Holder built himself – took him three years to finish – perfection

    014

    A little something for everyone

    012

    Thirst quencher

    017

    Old family pictures on ancient organ

    016

    Bobby as a little boy

    022

    All in all, Holder’s had delicious food, and had I been younger, I would have come back for the night life…or maybe not. My Texas beer joint dreams had come true without the first sip of a Lone Star.

    And finally, here’s a wall hanging at Holder’s that I thought of yesterday after the presidential debate on Monday night. I talked to my friend Carmen about the debate, and she said many of her friends weren’t going to vote this year…or were undecided…

    011

    And there you have it.

     

  • Post Cards from the Edge…of Time

    Post Cards from the Edge…of Time


    March 17, 1907

    Dear Luke, I miss you so much and am doing all the chores while you are away. Please come home soon. I love you always, your wife Bessie   P.S. It’s okay by me if you vote.

    ***********************

    This is an actual postcard from the early 1900s that I originally published in March, 2017, following an election year in 2016. I am reviewing the 991 posts I’ve made since I began this blog in 2011 and saw this was a favorite among my readers. It’s also one of my favorites – plus it is an election year for us in the USA.

  • Juneteenth! Happy Freedom Day!

    Juneteenth! Happy Freedom Day!


    I’m sure many of you received this letter today from former Attorney General Eric Holder, Jr. If you already read it, please take a minute to absorb it again, and if you haven’t read it – well, trust me, it’s a must read for Juneteenth. I am a native Texan, grew up not too far from Galveston, and am so very proud of my Black family members who will be celebrating with good food, family and friends today. My heart is with them – Happy Freedom Day to all!

    Sheila,

    It’s Juneteenth — marking 159 years since freedom finally reached enslaved Black Americans in Galveston, Texas. And today, while we celebrate the end of slavery, we must do all we can to remember those who endured the unconscionable, this nation’s original sin. 

    You’ve heard me, and others, say this a lot, but we have to say it again: The march towards true, lived freedom is far from over. The struggle continues to this day, but the victories we’ve achieved are only because of the commitment of every new generation to engage in the fight for justice and equality. 

    And don’t get me wrong, we have come a long way since that day 159 years ago in Galveston, Texas. We have made our country a more welcoming, safe, and equitable place for Black Americans. But there is still a long road left to travel. 

    This Juneteenth, while we recognize the continued struggle, I’m still filled with hope for what’s ahead. Our power to make change has never been stronger. All voices in our democracy deserve to be heard, and I’m proud to be working alongside you in the fight to make that a reality. 

    Together, let’s use today to recommit to our shared effort to have this nation live up to its founding ideals.

    Thank you for being in this movement, and happy Freedom Day. 

    Eric H. Holder, Jr. 
    82nd Attorney General of the United States

    All On The Line is the grassroots advocacy campaign supported by the National Redistricting Action Fund. Support our work to end gerrymandering.

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    Today is also the birthday of Francie Kleckley – wish her a Happy Birthday at http://www.franciekleckley.com and support her campaign with a donation! Hint: $65. would be significant to her, if you catch my drift.

  • Mama Mia, ABBA made me a Dancing Queen

    Mama Mia, ABBA made me a Dancing Queen


    Dancing Queen? Just kidding. Anyone who has seen me on a dance floor from the time my mother tried to teach me how to rock n roll with Dick Clark and American Bandstand after school in the living room of our home in Richards, Texas to dancing with Pretty and our granddaughters in their kitchen to Roe, Roe, Roe, your Vote – anyone who has seen me try to dance will say gosh, Sheila can still carry a tune plus she’s got rhythm but Lordy, that old woman can’t dance.

    I may not be a Dancing Queen, but ABBA will always be my favorite musical group, my go-to songs when I think I can dance.

    Last week I watched the movie Mama Mia with Meryl Streep and a bunch of other people I know and like because it’s on my list of all time favorite movies and because I had a round of the epizooti. It was so good I watched it twice and then moved on to The Devil Wears Prada. I only watched it once, though, you’ll be pleased to know.

    Since I was in a prone position with no urges to dance, I listened to the words of a beautiful, slower tempo song from Mama Mia that Meryl sang in a poignant scene with her daughter. Beyond the obvious feelings I have now with my granddaughters, I can also connect the words to my relationship with Pretty. Life is often slipping through our fingers all the time.

    “Slipping Through My Fingers”

    Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
    Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
    I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness
    And I have to sit down for a while
    The feeling that I’m losing her forever
    And without really entering her world
    I’m glad whenever I can share her laughter
    That funny little girl

    Slipping through my fingers all the time
    I try to capture every minute
    The feeling in it
    Slipping through my fingers all the time
    Do I really see what’s in her mind
    Each time I think I’m close to knowing
    She keeps on growing
    Slipping through my fingers all the time

    Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
    Barely awake I let precious time go by
    Then when she’s gone, there’s that odd melancholy feeling
    And a sense of guilt I can’t deny
    What happened to the wonderful adventures
    The places I had planned for us to go
    Well, some of that we did, but most we didn’t
    And why, I just don’t know

    Slipping through my fingers all the time
    I try to capture every minute
    The feeling in it
    Slipping through my fingers all the time
    Do I really see what’s in her mind
    Each time I think I’m close to knowing
    She keeps on growing
    Slipping through my fingers all the time

    Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
    And save it from the funny tricks of time

    Slipping through my fingers…

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    Overheard in her playhouse from two-year-old Molly this weekend: “Naynay, I’ll never leave you.”