I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

storytelling for truth lovers

  • America First?


    Once upon a time in the summer of 2017 a Big Bad American Wolf huffed and puffed with self-importance.

    And the Big Bad American Wolf said to the rest of the World, I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your houses down because your houses are not the right shade of green.

    Our houses are green, our money is green – Americans are the mean green dancing machines.

    On Putin, on Pittsburgh, on Prancer for sure, but Paris oh no, you’ve lost your allure.

    Keep your huddled masses of immigrants and terrorists to yourselves.

    That give- us- your- tired- and- poor- malarkey is over.

    America is sovereign – we rock, and you roll.

    Baa, baa ex- black sheep that was so very weak,

    All the wool belongs to the Wolf now – he thinks it’s his to keep.

    Not on my watch.

  • The Fabulous Huss Brothers – and How They Grew


    My head is spinning from the realization that today is the first day of June, 2017. The first five months of this year have evaporated into thin air – I sometimes feel like I’ve been on the Scrambler which was the only ride I ever ventured to ride at the State Fair which I made every effort to avoid on an annual basis. My insides became outsides during the interminable twists and turns at such high velocities they made me stumble with dizziness when I finally was allowed to remove the bar and exit the small metal prison box. I had survived the Scrambler one more time.

    I feel that same sense of relief at the end of the first five months of 2017. Moving is not for the faint of heart or body, a whirlwind trip south to New Orleans for the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival, the Final Four with an historic National Championship with our women’s basketball team, birthdays, good anniversaries, sad anniversaries, and finally the death of a cousin who took a part of my childhood with him. Enough already. I have been “scrambled.”

    Pretty and I were relaxing at a pool party/ cookout at the home of our gay boys basketball buddies this past weekend. I was chatting with fellow blogger Mar-la-ti-dah (check out her blog sometime – she’s fun!) when she asked me about the Fabulous Huss Brothers from Worsham Street in Texas. She’s not the first person to inquire about those little guys who brought me such joy while I was there. I’m always happy when people are interested in the brothers Huss.

    As the fickle finger of fate would have it, my friend Becky sent me pictures of her three sons this week so I am updating their profiles for everyone with the new images. Enjoy!

    Baby George is now 4 

    (with rescue dog Carolina)

    Oldest brother Oscar is 8

    and proudly holds a giant craw fish from their tank

    Dwight is in the middle at age 6

    with the sweetest smile for a soccer player

    Every Texas family loves a bluebonnets picture!

    This one was on my Mother’s Day card from the boys. It’s a picture that makes me smile but also gives me hope for the future in these tumultuous times. I love the Fabulous Huss Brothers and miss their daily afternoon visits as well as the porch chats with their mother and the other Little Women of Worsham Street. It’ll be no time until we see them again.

     

  • William “Bill” Chester Powell (April 26, 1947 – May 25, 2017)


    My cousin Bill died yesterday following a battle with his own body for almost eight years. He was 70 years old.

    I spoke with his mother Eloise this morning about my admiration for the courage Bill had displayed throughout his confinement as well as his wife Donna’s steadfast support while she helped her husband through the difficult activities of daily living. Eloise said simply, Bill was a trooper.

    Yes. Not all troopers are in the armed services.

    This weekend is Memorial Day, and I am immeasurably grateful for every soldier who serves today to protect our country from harm. I appreciate their families, their personal sacrifices, and the bravery required to face our enemies at home and abroad. These enemies multiply even as we alienate our friends and struggle to identify ever-changing battlefields. In the midst of a chaotic world our military personnel are asked to protect and defend us with their own lives if necessary. Thankful seems like such a small word for what our soldiers do, but thankful is how I feel.

    My cousin Bill had a very real foe in his war with his health, but he won’t get a medal or ribbon for his valor. Instead, in the end he was surrounded by the love of his family and the hope that he will be remembered as a good man who refused to surrender during a very long haul. A worthy legacy.

    my cousin Boybaby swinging

    with his sister Frances pushing him,

    me climbing the ladder, and Bill trying to ignore us 

    playing on a swing set at my home in Richards, Texas

    circa 1952

    only children Bill and me at a family reunion

    Bill’s maternal grandfather was my paternal grandmother’s brother, and his maternal grandmother was my paternal grandfather’s sister – sometimes our reunions were confusing, but our families were close and loved each other.

    I will miss Bill. Rest in peace, cousin.

  • Charly’s First Anniversary


    Imagine my surprise when Pretty called me this afternoon to tell me today was the one-year anniversary of our adoption of Charly from pawmetto lifeline, the place that had rescued the little dog from the kill shelter here in Columbia when her family of origin turned her in with a bad case of heart worms and an equally bad case of pregnancy. She had 11 puppies a year ago, and the eight who survived had already been adopted by forever homes when we met her. Charly a/k/a Dawn to her friends at pawmetto lifeline, hadn’t been so fortunate.

    I couldn’t believe it’s been a year since we adopted her…

    The blinds incident on Day 1 at Casa de Canterbury

    (separation anxiety was a bit of a problem at first)

    But look at her now! She runs this place – literally.

    she’ll be comin’ round the mountain – wheeeee!

    (at warp speed)

    hey, dude – shake a leg

    Spike had been bereft after losing the final members of his pack last spring, but his pace has picked up with Charly in the house.

    Charly has been a delight and joy for our family in the past year – she brings a little something extra to the mix. We are the better for her spark in our family dynamics – and we like to think we’ve given her an extra helping of love in return. It’s a win-win situation.

    I just love it when a plan comes together.

  • Never Let Go of Your Baby


    Cra-zy days, la, la, la…for me and you…we remain in a topsy-turvy state at Casita de Cardinal as we try to settle in. Three days of rain have thrown Charly and Spike for a loop as they boycott the outdoors. I have been thrown for a loop, too, but not by the rain. This afternoon Charly had had enough of the chaos in her world and took refuge in her favorite baby. 

    Once again the chaos of the world outside our home makes us all wish we had a “baby” for comfort. We stand with the people of Manchester and Great Britain tonight as they mourn the losses of their loved ones in senseless crimes against innocent children and their families. There are no words.

    When everything around you has

    gone to hell in a hand-basket,

     hang on to your baby.

    Sigh.