Did Obama Say We Should Kill the Old Folks to Save Money Last Night?

Friends of the Front Porch Swing,

Didn't I tell you recently that I thought the government would soon be stooping down and figuring out when was the best age and time to put us down so we can push up daisies for a living? If you watched the dog and pony show last night, then you heard it live. If you didn't, then I've found an article for you to read.

Oh- the enlightened one also enlightened us on his personal belief of his health plan for his family. He wouldn't use it. So, would members of Congress have to use it or would they be deemed too important?

Read the story here: Did Obama Say We Should Kill the Old Folks to Save Money Last Night?

Welcome, Welcome Miz Vul!

Miz Vul, I am so very excited to know you will be joining us on the porch! I hear tell you do not adhere to the 12 o'clock rule for mint juleps? Well, that could prove to be very interesting indeed. We are going to have so much fun swappin' tales, especially after we've finished our first pitcher of our favorite beverages! While I am afraid I will always stick to my noon-hour rule, I won't mind watching you at all.

Reading about your husband and piano playing relative got me to thinking about some of my relatives.

You know I have a whole closet just filled with relatives who can do strange and unusual things. We don't talk much about some of them. I practically had to pry open my Grandmama's lips to get her to tell me about some of my relatives when I decided to look back at our family line.

My favorite story is the one where my Grandmama's sister's little girl was born early! She said this cute little thing was so tiny her Mama almost didn't see her when she went to sit down. I can hear her still as she quietly learned over and said, "Why, we almost lost that little girl 'cause my mama's bottom was rather broad at that time."

Now you might not think that talking about a little tiny baby being born early would mean much, but I'll have you know that she was born less than 9 months after my great aunt met her husband at the altar of the local church. And if she wasn't such a prig puttin' on airs like you wouldn't believe.

It took me forever to ferret the date she got married out of my grandmother. She "just couldn't remember exactly, why it was so long ago". Finally I went looking for the family Bible and there it was. If they wanted to hide something like that they shouldn't have kept such good records.

I have to giggle every time I see my cousins! They inherited their mama's big ideas and stuck up ways. I know it's not Christian, but it does just bring them down to human level in my mind somehow.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm a charitable person. If they didn't lord their ideas of grandeur over everyone's heads it wouldn't matter a hill of beans to me which side of the bed their mama got out of in the mornings. There's not a person in this big old world who hasn't made some mistake in their lives and some of them are fairly big. I learned a long time ago to live and let live and not to judge. Just as soon as you start thinking you are better than someone else one of your own children shows up on the front porch with a tale to out-tale the rest.

Oh dear, I have taken so much space up with my tale of just one relative! I will have to come back another day and tell you about some of my more unusual, and yes, strange, relatives!

It is after noon and I am heading to the liquor cabinet!
Miss Faye

Toilet Paper Faux Pas

Well, well, well. One day of family complete and another to go. Christmas Eve was filled with children watching Santa as he traveled across the world courtesy of NORAD. They watched avidly as he moved from town to town to country to country. When he hit South America it was time to pack up the gifts and head home to await his arrival at their homes.

My, my how times have changed.

Yesterday was a whirlwind of activity. I cooked and cleaned and cooked and cleaned all in preparation for the hoards of family descending on our quiet home. It is hard to anticipate every place that people will look to see what kind of housekeeper you are. At least the days of regularly wearing white gloves in polite society has passed. White gloves in my house would mean I could not pass muster for some of my pickier relatives.

While I do rush around to make sure the house is as clean as it can possibly be given the general lack of attention it receives most days, I am not overly concerned any longer about being judged solely on my house-cleaning skills. If I die tomorrow someone will find dust balls under the bed. It will not kill me as I will already be dead.

Just a little short story from the days when it did matter overly much to me how my house looked. My grandmother-in-law had visited once and I caught her cleaning my stove while I ran to the store. The next time she visited I determined there would not be one dust ball, one grease spot, one place where she could run her white gloves or stick her nose to find a problem.

All seemed to be going well, she seemed rather miffed that she could not surreptitiously find some ditty of dirt. I again had to leave the house for a short period, but felt I could do so safely. I returned to find the over and the refrigerator pulled away from the wall with my grandmama busily cleaning.

On her next trip, I left some easy places for her to discover and clean.

Now, back to present day, Christmas and today's family.

All went well. We ate, opened presents and shared good times. Everyone finally headed home to their respective homes for sweet dreams of the presents-to-be. I did some last minute cleaning up and then made a stop in one of our bathrooms.... Only to discover the toilet roll was empty. I was mortified. Not only had I forgotten to put a back-up roll out within easy reach, I had forgotten to re-stock under the cabinet.

Now, before you think that I am over-reacting to missing toilet paper know that if you open certain closet doors in my house, things do not look as neat as the rest of the house. Oh no, I used my closets during visits as storage for all those things you don't want children to touch or see, for the stack of books that's normally by the bed, the clothes I didn't have time to fold from the washer. In other words, there is no telling what you might find if you went looking.

I can just hear the conversations that some must have had as they traveled home. "Do you know what she had in the walk-in closet in the bathroom?"

Unfortunately, I also forgot to re-stock the toilet paper in the other guest bathroom also. Luckily, the roll was not completely decimated although one more trip would have had someone searching through those closets.

Ah well, you can't think of everything. And if I was able to bring a little joy into someone's life by giving them something juicy to talk about for a short while, they have received an extra Christmas present.

Well, I'm off to clean out my closet and restock the toilet paper before the next batch of family arrives. Merry Christmas to you and all of your families! A special Merry Christmas to you Miss Etta. I hope Santa was extra special good to you this year.

And The Deed is Done

Miss Faye,

You are so lucky to have your family nearby. All 12 of us have either scattered or returned to the ground. Remind me sometimes, I've got some side splitters about the family.

Anyway, I did indeed go to South Georgia yesterday to see my niece get married. On the drive down, I did see a wondrous site which brought back many memories to me. Cotton. Cotton on the vine. Cotton in big bales. Cotton on the road. That beautiful white cotton. A big laugh just bubbled right up in my throat. Did you ever play "king of the mountain" in cotton seeds? We sure did. It was so fun to be at the cotton gin. When the cotton was deseeded, the seeds would go along a big metal pipe thing that ran across the ceiling and empty out into one huge pile. We used to play "king of the mountain" for hours on those piles. It was more thrilling if you happened to be standing on top of the hill when a fresh batch of cotton seeds would be dumped on top of your head. Everyone in the car looked at me like I had grown three heads as I recalled those days. Why, the youth of today just don't have a proper education on the days of old.

Before I get started, let me get back to my story.

The church was decorated with a Christmas theme, the bride wore white, the bridesmaids wore cranberry, and everyone wore smiles. It was a nice ceremony. Afterwards, I had to tell the young groom our family policy. I politely thanked him for inviting us to the big day, grabbed his hand, and said, "We're so glad you took her off our hands. Now, I have to tell you. She is quite enamored with you and has been for some time. She doesn't come with a receipt, so there are NO returns and NO exchanges." He smiled and reassured me that she will have his heart forever. Kind of endearing, I think.

Now the reception was held in the social hall. I don't know why they call it a social hall, when that rural type of denomination doesn't allow for much. No dancing was allowed. We sat there like bumps on a log with my brother, since we don't know anyone else in the town she lives in. It was good to see them. It's hard to believe that this young girl is old enough to be a radiant bride.

I did have to laugh. She had told me at Thanksgiving that she had "things to do" right after the ceremony and she wouldn't be at the reception long. Two hours into the reception, and there she still was! I asked her how small her suitcase was for the honeymoon as she had told me that she only needed a couple of items and a smile on her face. Ah, youth and newly married. I just bet, Miss Faye, you can tell me some of the older customs surrounding marriages. Didn't everyone used to hang around for the event of the evening? It seems like I heard that behavior was standard up in the mountains. It seems I also recall the landed gentry of old used to have to have "proof" of the evening. Now, I know that the "proof" could be conjured up with some well placed drops here and there.

I was glad to finally leave the reception. kick up my heels, and have myself a long tall julep. That seemed to go well with the memories of my own wedding so long ago. But I don't recall ever playing "king of the mountain" that particular night-- or maybe it was just a different version sans cotton seeds........

Miss Etta

Cranberry Christmas

Miss Etta,
Your recipe sounds sooooo good. I love any recipe that doesn't involve much work and tastes good, too. I do so like cranberries but I have never been able to stomach that wobbly tube of red that plops out of a can, complete with those little can rims around it.

I know there are many who adore the canned sauce or they wouldn't be selling it. But to me it is like the fruit cake that everyone laughs about getting. Every year my Mama puts out a can of cranberry sauce and every year she is the only one at our huge family gathering who touches it.

It makes me shiver just thinking about it.

It is fun to poke though. If you take it and put it upright instead of laying it sideways on the plate it is good for a few fun minutes. It doesn't like to stay upright, it is like a mushy slinky. If you get two or three people who don't mind touching it (ugh) you can have lots of fun trying to make it stay up. After that? Lay it on the plate and serve it. No one will touch it anyway and it'll be good for giggles during dinner.

I am going to go to the store and try to find some fresh cranberries so I can try your recipe.

Have you every made a cranberry garland for the Christmas tree? One year I decided to go all natural on the tree. Popcorn, cookies, and a cranberry garland. We poked needles through more cranberries and popcorn that I care to remember. Push, ouch, push, ouch.

My poor fingers still hurt when I think about it and my children to this day can not stand the site of a tree with real popcorn or cranberries on it. Even plastic popcorn and cranberry garlands makes them cringe and hold their fingers.

I'm sure that our foremothers (you know our forefathers wouldn't have stooped to pushing a needle though a cranberry) had some easy way to make those garlands. I didn't know at the time and haven't cared to know since.

My family has invited themselves to our house this year for Christmas. I prefer to go mess up someone else's house but I will endure. It is only fair that I take an occasional turn at entertaining the masses.

Keeping a goose-less house

Good morning Miss Etta and good morning world!

As I was walking on my treadmill this morning, watching Fox News, my mind started traveling to all the things I had to do. High on my list was to finish up my Christmas shopping.

I know it is anti-American and absolutely not something most belle's would admit to, but I surely do hate to shop. I swear I can do a mall in under 15 minutes and be ready to go home before ten are up.

I also do not like the idea that everyone expects to get some heavenly gift from yours truly every year at Christmas. I have decided that I will do my normal gift giving this year because I would hate to disappoint the youngsters, and I do love to give, but I am thinking of making a change this next year.

Instead of giving gifts on the expected holidays, I am going to surprise my friends and relatives all year long with little thoughtful gifts. I am going to put a little card on each telling them it's an early Christmas or birthday present. An installment if you would.

Christmas has become a time of expectation. We expect to get a gift and we're disappointed when we don't, or if it's not something we want. How many things do we have stuffed in our closets that we have to pull out when Aunt Sadie comes to visit?

I remember a friend years back who decided that I needed to collect geese. I have NO earthly idea why she got it into her pretty little southern head that my house needed to have ceramic geese and hot pads and even geese wall hangings. However, every time there was a gift giving occasion she gave the gift of geese.

Well, I am not a goose person at all. I think all animals belong outside, even the one that don't breath.

Needless to say, I had a special closet just for her gifts. When she came to visit, I would take these horrible things out so her feelings wouldn't be hurt. It's a southern thing. There just are certain things you do not do and not showing appropriate appreciation for someones dedicated shopping is one of them.

I was SO relieved when she moved to North Carolina. It didn't matter how many geese she shipped to me after that, I did not have to put them out.

We have since lost touch and I now keep a geese-less house. The geese went the way of a yard sale and I'm sure they are now gracing the home of someone who loves and appreciates them.

At Christmas, people give a lot of geese just so they'll have something to give. Proper shoppers and those who truly care work their credit cards to a frazzle trying to find just the perfect gifts, ones that won't end up in a closet.

We all punish ourselves by spending time shopping, and we seem to forget why we celebrate Christmas in the first place. I've heard the reasoning as to why to celebrate the birth of Jesus we give gifts to others. It just doesn't make a lot of sense to me.

Somehow I just can't picture Him watching our frenzied shopping and connecting with how it has anything to do with His birth. Doesn't it seem to you Miss Etta that what He'd probably like to see is us giving all year long? I'm not talking about giving toys to our children, although that is truly a fun thing to do. I am talking about giving a gift of food to someone who doesn't have any, or anonymously sending a neighbor in need a money order, or "adopting" someone in a nursing home who isn't blessed with a family.

There are so many people doing so many good things, especially here in Fayette County. Why every day I read or hear about some good work someone has done. I wonder if somehow we could find a way to do good works throughout the year and tie it to Christmas giving? I will have to think on that for a while.

Miss Etta, I know that you are one who knows the real meaning of Christmas and it will be something you truly celebrate. I know, too, that these are some profound wanderings for early on a cold Tuesday morning.

I am going to ponder more on the things I've touched on in this journal. After I get back from shopping this afternoon.

Miss Faye