I'll Call It Like I See It

From One Mother to Another – WWII

On May 29, 1945 my mom Selma and my dad Glenn eloped to get married by a justice of the peace in Magnolia, Texas. Magnolia was a small town 30 miles south of the even smaller town of Richards where they had grown up and gone to public school together. I’m not sure how they decided on Magnolia unless they had set out for Houston which was another 60 miles down the road – and couldn’t wait.

They eloped practically the day my father returned from England after flying 32 bombing missions over Germany as a navigator on a B-25 bomber. He had volunteered to enlist in the army soon after graduating from high school, gone to officer training school in the Army Air Corps, served in the 8th Air Force in England, received the Air Medal of Honor, was honorably discharged, came home to the rural Grimes County, Texas home he had left and married the woman he loved. She was 18 – he was 21.

My father had a brother, Ray, who was two years older than he was. My Uncle Ray also enlisted in the Army as soon as he finished high school. Even though the brothers had been separated for two years, they both were amazed to find themselves stationed together with the 8th Air Force in England. Ray loaded the bombs in the planes on the ground, and Glenn dropped the bombs from the air.

Ray and Glenn’s mother, my grandmother Betha Day Robinson Morris, kept this letter dated August 16, 1945 from a mother written to her from another mother in Doncaster, England. Apparently Betha’s sons had spent quite a bit of time in her home while they were stationed across the Pond during the war. Glenn was home and already married before Ray’s tour was over.

16 -8 – 45

Dear Mrs. Morris,

Many thanks for your letter. I was very pleased you appreciated my letter. I expect you have Ray home now. We do miss him but let’s thank god the whole war is over & our boys won’t have to face that Pacific. I dreaded hearing that any of the U.S.A. boys who stayed with me would have to face that ordeal. Fancy Glynn being with you when my letter arrived. I could just imagine him saying that about the Yorkshire pudding. Yes Mrs. Morris my dear son arrived home safely & we’ve had a lovely 10 days with him. We had his coming home party last Saturday & what a party. Ray will tell you what a lively house this is like your own. I didn’t know what to do when the telegram came saying he had landed in England. I laughed & cried together so I know your feelings when that great big son of yours arrives. He’s a great guy. We’ve got his photo on the piano. I often talk to him. Pleased to hear you have 3 children. We only have 2 boys and my grandson who really is a beautiful child. I’ll send you some snaps when we can obtain some films for the camera. He’s so proud of his dear daddy. Ask Glynn to send me a picture of his wife. She sounds a jolly good sort of a girl. We get very few American Boys here now. I see a few was over for J.V. Days & everybody went mad. Tell Ray the Market Tavern was crowded. When we got in, you couldn’t get out again. My son who works there was tired out. What beer they sold & we was all dancing in the Market too. Give Ray this message from Shelia “She sends her regards to him & if she wasn’t marrying Nash, he stood the second chance.” She’s a sweet kid. I’ll enclose you the recipe for Yorkshire pudding it’s really good. With roast, beef, mutton, or pork. We very seldom have a dinner without in England. As it’s very tasty with onions cooked. Let’s hope you make a success of it. It needs a lot of Beeting (sp.) up. Well dear space is short and time marches on. Give my love to my two Boys from their Limey Mum.

So I’ll say cheerio.

Sincerely yours

E.Hughes

Regards from all the young at heart to Ray & Glynn

Sender’s name and address: E. Hughes, L.L. Christ Church Rd, Doncaster, England.

P.S. I can only imagine my grandmother’s strictly tee-totaling Southern Baptist self as she read the part about the Market Tavern, beer and dancing. Oh my god.

P.S.P.S. Family lore always attributed my name Sheila to a girl in England. There is truth to that story apparently. My middle name Rae was my daddy’s attempt to feminize his brother’s name. So I guess I might have been named Betha Day instead of Sheila Rae had it not been for WWII.

Cheerio

July 22, 2017

Hello? Ding, Ding who’s there?

Well neighbors Pretty got up bright and early yesterday morning to drive me to the Verizon Help Center because I have been having technical issues with my cell phone for the past week. The Help Center/ Show Room is 15 minutes north of our new casita de Cardinal in West Columbia. Normally I could have made that trip myself but our Dodge Dakota pickup truck has more issues than my cell phone so we are a one-car family this month.

We arrived at 10:08. I know the exact time because the young man who greeted us asked us to have a seat on a small bench in the extremely large, mostly empty show room. He then sent me a text as soon as we sat down. The text said, thank you for waiting…there is one person ahead of you.

When I looked back at the text later, I saw that it had been sent at 10:08.

I found it odd to receive a text from someone who was standing less than 15 feet away from me, but actually the text later proved invaluable in establishing my timeline for the visit.

Pretty and I chatted while we waited, and at 10:28 a.m. I received a second text from the friendly greeter with the encouraging information that someone would be with me momentarily which was good since I had a doctor’s appointment downtown at 11:40 and was beginning to experience a slight nagging notion in the back of my mind that this visit to the Verizon Wireless store had been poorly planned.

The store was now filled with customers who milled around with everyone’s cell phones being dinged with text messages from the same enthusiastic greeter about their place in line for the next available customer service person. No one talked via the antiquated mode of chatting out loud to one another – just text messages.

At any rate, shortly after the second text message I was approached by an attractive middle-aged woman with long flowing blonde hair who asked us to join her at her section of the counter and then said with a pleasant smile, how could she help us today?

I laid my cell phone on the counter in front of her and said I had two problems that I needed help with: (1) I couldn’t receive group text messages and (2) I could no longer send my pictures from my cell phone to my computer. Thank you for helping, I added with an equally pleasant expression on my face.

The woman beamed with good will as she picked up my phone and looked at it. Oh my god were the first words out of her mouth as the smile turned to a frown, and I didn’t think that was a good sign. I heard Pretty give a small groan as she turned away from us to stare at the new cell phone accessories in the show room.

Oh my god, she said again. I’ve never seen this cell phone brand – where did you buy this phone?

At your store, I said.

Really? she said with an expression that translated I don’t believe you for a minute. I’ve never even heard of a phone called an HTC, she continued.

She looked at me now with more than a trace of annoyance and began to punch buttons on my phone, looking back periodically to scroll down her own cell phone which was clearly superior to mine. She squinted her eyes as she said I don’t know how you ever see anything on a phone with a screen this small. She sighed…and turned my phone upside down as if to get a better view.

Oh my god, she kept saying over and over. I felt nauseous. I didn’t like the road we were on for sure. I felt our newly formed relationship of happiness and congeniality was about to be dissolved before it really got going.

After her head shaking went on for several minutes with more oh my gods, she asked me if I had insurance on the phone.

Probably not, I said. This was clearly not the answer she hoped for because her lips formed a tight thin line and her eyes squinted to mere slits with the eyeballs barely visible.

You should always buy insurance she said with a hard tone. It’s the only way you can return this phone and get a new one.

I don’t want a new phone, I said in a louder voice. I want someone to fix this one. I now understood our relationship was in real trouble. We had a failure to communicate – probably because we weren’t using text messages.

Pretty spoke up at this point in the exchange and asked if I was eligible for an upgrade on our plan? The woman scrolled through her superior phone and shook her head. Not until February of 2018.

By now my anxiety level had reached 10 on a scale of 1 to 10.

Time was ticking away; Pretty took control (as she is prone to do) and said we have to go. With that the Help Center woman began to protest and said I’m not finished with you yet to which Pretty replied, oh yes you are and picked up my phone. We could feel her disapproval for us as customers while the smiling greeter wasn’t so happy to see us leave as he was when we arrived an hour earlier. I wondered if I should text him goodbye.

We raced home so that Pretty could drop me off and go on her merry way to her antique empire activities and our housekeeper/best friend Carmen could drive me to the doctor’s appointment which I was close to missing at this moment. Perilously close.

As Fate would have it, Carmen discovered she had locked her keys in the car she left running so that it would be cool when we got in it. Car running. Keys inside. Doors locked. No extra keys with her.

Needless to say, the doctor’s appointment had to be rescheduled for today with a few chuckles from the office manager when she heard the lost keys story. That’s a good one she said. Hilarious I agreed.

AAA came an hour later to unlock Carmen’s car door, and the car miraculously continued to perform flawlessly which was also good because she had to drive me back to the Verizon Wireless store instead of the doctor’s office.

All of my contacts and pictures in my cell phone were gone…as in GONE, baby gone as was any semblance of good will on my part which must have been apparent to the cheerful greeter when I returned for my second visit early yesterday afternoon. The woman with the long blonde hair flew over to personally escort me to the rear of the show room. No text messages necessary.

Two hours later Carmen and I left the store with my antiquated cell phone in hand, my contacts restored, and most of my pictures retrieved. I’m still hoping to find the ones I lost somewhere over the rainbow in my cloud, whatever that is and wherever it may be. Oh my god.

Following the harrowing adventures at the cell phone Help Center, I treated Carmen and myself to chocolate milk shakes at Rush’s. My mood improved immediately as we sat in the front seat of her car and texted each other about how much we loved the delicious milk shakes.

Ding, ding. Yummy.

July 19, 2017

Father Goose Rhymes I Just Made Up

(Image theartofchildrenspicturebooks.blogspot.com.)

There was in old woman who lived in a shoe.

She had so many children she didn’t know what to do.

She gave them some broth without any bread,

Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme – circa 1794

There was an old man who lived in a White House.

He had so many children who stayed in the dog house.

He gave them some jobs that they couldn’t do,

Then tweeted and tweeted to raise a hullabaloo.

Father Goose Nursery Rhymes – 2017

Okay, okay. So I’m no Mother Goose and my rhyming dictionary has a few weaknesses, but I woke up this morning thinking about the old woman in the shoe with the children woes. The little jingle sounded all too familiar these days, and it was downhill from there.

Well, I woke up this mornin’ , Mother Goose on my mi-i-i-i-nd.

Enough already. Somebody stop me.

Tomorrow is another day – maybe I’ll wake up thinking more profound thoughts. Keep hope alive for that, will you?

Stay tuned.

July 17, 2017

Manic Monday at WIMBLEDON Tomorrow – Feel the Magic!

Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive…it’s a train, it’s a plane, it’s Super Manic Monday at Wimbledon tomorrow and my head will be spinning like one of those old antique tops that we recently sold at our spectacular yard sale for Casa de Canterbury this weekend.

Roger Federer in 2012 following his win

Daddy WON Wimbledon again! Thank you, thank you

(one of Roger’s twin daughters at the match in 2012)

I lost at Wimbledon again – why me, o Lord, why me?

(Andy Murray was the runner-up in 2012)

The Red Man in the bleacher seats at

Casa de Canterbury during Wimbledon in 2012

(The Red Man was a serious Tennis Addict)

Paw Licker Annie entertained herself in 2012…

(she much preferred licking her paw to tennis)

Spike’s first Wimbledon experience –

he didn’t quite catch the thrill in 2012

Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic in

2014 Wimbledon Final

Daddy lost Wimbledon…oh, no

Rafael Nadal leaving Wimbledon in 2014

(win or lose, Nadal likes to stay fresh)

Nadal, Federer, Djokovic and Murray a/k/a the Big Four will be flailing away at yellow tennis balls again tomorrow at the All England Club at Wimbledon in the round of 16 players still standing in both the men’s and women’s draws after the first week of tournament play. The ESPN commentators have dubbed this day Manic Monday because it is the final time both the men and women will be playing on the same day on the grass courts of the 2017 tournament.

With the yard sale in her rear-view mirror, Pretty will be up with me to catch the Magic Marathon that is the beginning of the second week of one of the 4 Major tennis tournaments of 2017. Roger Federer won the Australian Open earlier this year, and Rafa Nadal won his record-setting 10th. French Open title a few weeks ago. His 10th. French Open. Truly awesome.

These guys are “oldies but goodies” as my friend Robin Lee says whenever she sees me.

That’s how I feel about the men and women who continue to loom large in international competition even as they pass the 30-year-old hurdle that used to be the sign of the end of times for tennis players. Good for them. They crash their own glass ceilings every time they step on Centre Court. And we haven’t even mentioned the legendary Venus Williams who is playing in her 20th Wimbledon at the ripe young age of 37. You go, girl.

Spike has grown fonder of tennis in the past 5 years and will watch Wimbledon with Pretty and Charly and me in our new bleacher seats at Casita de Cardinal this week. We have to hope The Red Man and Paw Licker Annie will have the best seats in their home away from home, too. Red will pull for Roger with Pretty, and Annie, well, she will keep her preferences to herself.

Spike and I both love Nadal whether he has a shirt on or not. Vamos!!

Enjoy a fantastic week of tennis if you are a fan and have access to sports channels on your TV.

Thanks for staying tuned.

July 9, 2017

and on a lighter note, happy fourth, America

As the fireworks boom and crackle around me in our new neighborhood tonight, I have a few parting shots myself from a day of family, friends and fun in our new home. These are the good ol’ days…trust me on that one.