ROOSTER NOODLE SOUP  (a true Garrett-family tale) 

When Uncle Andy was about five years old and just beginning to read and write, Grandpa Harold came for a visit.  The screen door slammed as Andy ran in sobbing, “I hate that old rooster!”

Grandpa Harold bent down to wipe away a tear and asked, “Andy, what happened?”
Struggling to catch his breath, Andy pointed to his bicycle lying in the driveway.
“Grandpa, that old rooster attacks me every time I go near the barn!  Look!  He slashed my leg wide open!”

“Yep, that old red rooster tore you up, Boy!” agreed Grandpa.  “Let’s wash you off and get a band-aid.”
They fixed up Andy’s leg and sat down at the dining room table.

“I’m not ever going to ride my bike near the barn again, and that’s final!” Andy declared.
Grandpa Harold nodded.  “I don’t blame you, Andy.  That old rooster’s pretty mean, and he knows that he’s got you scared.”

Andy felt awful.  It was no use.  He’d never again go near the clubhouse Daddy helped him build. There was no way he’d ever help Mommy gather eggs from the chicken coop.  His tools were even out there in the barn, and he couldn’t go get them to fix things around the house.  Suddenly, he remembered that he had left his Power Rangers belt right out beside that old rooster’s stomping grounds, and he threw himself down on the table and started to bawl.

Grandpa Harold wrapped his arms around Andy’s shoulders and hugged him tightly.
“Andy, I think you ought to march right out there and tell that rooster the way the cow ate the cabbage.”

“Huh?”  Andy asked as he blinked through his tears.

“Just go tell that rooster that he’d better leave you alone, or you’re going to make rooster noodle soup out of him,” Grandpa said with a wink and a smile.

“Rooster noodle soup?”  Andy wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve.  Quickly, he pushed away from the table and ran out of the room.  A few seconds later, Andy slid into the chair next to Grandpa’s and placed a napkin and pen on the table in front of him.

“Grandpa, could you write that down?”  asked Andy.
Grandpa looked confused.

“ROOSTER…NOODLE…SOUP,” Andy said slowly, pointing to the napkin.  “Please write it down!”

Grandpa Harold carefully printed the words and handed the napkin back to his grandson who thanked him and stuck it in his back pocket.  Out the door he went, climbed on his bike, and rode toward the barn.

Grandpa watched from the kitchen window until Andy disappeared.  He shook his head wondering what in the world his grandson was thinking.  And he chuckled as he crossed the room to his favorite recliner.  Grandpa had just dozed off when the door burst open.  Andy stomped through the house holding the napkin high up in the air.

“Andy, are you alright?”  Grandpa quickly asked.

“No, Sir!” shrieked Andy.  He thrust the napkin into Grandpa’s lap and put his hands on his hips.

“Grandpa, I’m mad at you!”  Andy said with his lip quivering.

Grandpa Harold reached for his hand and asked why in the world he’d be angry.

“Grandpa, that old rooster can’t even read!”

Wrapped in Quilted Memories

The doctor’s words echo through my head,

“No weight-bearing on that knee for 6-8 weeks….
and keep it elevated!”

I’m down on the couch…and wallowing in the dumps feeling sorry for myself, when Pa gently wraps me up in the warmth and memories of my favorite family quilt.

I smooth it out over my lap, and my hand runs over a block of material that I know without looking.  This is a piece of Faye Faye’s seersucker pedal pushers she wore each spring.  All of a sudden, I’m lying in her lap as she reads, Raggedy Ann's Wishing Pebble to Kim and me.   We’re rocking in the swing under the pear tree.  A tear rolls down my cheek as I remember those special moments. 

Faye Faye, my grandmother, taught us to love books, poems, and storytelling, and gave us her lifelong love of learning!

Moving up to get more comfortable, a dark quilt block brushes against my leg.  Pulling it close to get a good look, I find myself smiling as I realize that this is a square from Granddaddy’s wool suit that he wore every Sunday.  It brushed my arm each time I walked hand-in-hand with him into the First Baptist Church where he was a deacon.  Granddaddy helped me to see God!

Now what is this?  I feel something hard and cold on an edge of the quilt.  Snaps!!!  Why, it’s PaPaw’s workshirt!  My fingers held tightly to those snaps on the front of his shirt as we plowed the rows up high on his tractor.  PaPaw taught us to love and respect the earth and the food and bounty she gives us.

My eye catches a pattern.  I hold it close and inhale deeply.  Its’s a piece of MaMaw’s stained apron.  It still smells like it did when she brought it in off the clothesline.  And, for some reason, as I gaze at the vintage cherry print, I can still taste that Jones Cake frosting that I always stuck my finger into when no one was looking.  MaMaw taught me the importance of serving those you love in everything you do.

Let’s see, what other treasures can I find?  There’s a bit of Mommy’s polka dotted dress that matched her blue eyes.  Daddy says he still gets goose bumps when he sees that picture of her wearing it.  My mommy taught me how to love one man with all of my heart…just like she and Daddy did.

Look at this!!!  I’ve not noticed it before.  Why, it’s a piece of Daddy’s old swim suit.  He wore it at the lake where he taught me to ski and swim, at the beach where we body-surfed and walked miles in the sand, and in the creeks where we camped and caught fish and crawdads.  Dad taught me how important family is and that the family who plays together, stays together…..and we did!


Ah, here’s a small edge of Katie Faye’s baby blanket which I often “borrowed” to put around Marybel, my Madame Alexander Doll.  My precious sister has always taught me that the love of a sister is far more precious than gold and that our friendship is one that can never be broken.

Today, memories sewn together with the stitches of time have made me thankful for the family God gave to me.  They’ve reminded me that no one He gives us is insignificant.   Each one becomes part of your story and teaches you the lessons you need to tackle life and make a difference in the lives of others. 

This old broken leg slowed me down a bit, but it helped me stop and take the time to remember how blessed I am.  I’m wrapped in a family quilt of love that is hemmed in God’s grace.

Rainy Day in Spain

School was out! Andres and Michaela ran down the steps and into
the cool, gentle rain!
Reaching into his backpack, Andres displayed his treasures.
“Michaela, I need to send these postcards to my friends in America.”
Glancing at her watch, Michaela gasped, “If we hurry, we can just
catch the bus that runs past the post office!.”
Splashing through puddles down the winding cobblestone path
they sang, “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.”

Andres and Michaela arrived at the bus stop just in time to leap over the rain
filled gutter and climbed on the bus!
They wound around and through the streets of Salamanca until they
finally reached the post office. The two friends had to wait in a very long
line to mail Andres’ cards but didn’t mind at all. They laughed and visited with
all the people around them. What a wonderful place to practice their Spanish!

With the cards safely mailed, Michaela and Andres began to look for another bus.
They’d be back home in no time!
Splashing through puddles down the winding cobblestone path
they sang, “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.”

Suddenly, Michaela stopped and whispered, “Andres, I smell something
wonderful!” Andres hesitated, drew in a deep breath, and pointed toward
a merchant’s cart that was parked nearby.
The street vender was selling chestnuts roasted over an open fire. Excited and
extremely hungry, Andres and Michaela paid the man and chomped on the nutty treats as they splashed through puddles down the winding cobblestone path
and sang, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire... ”

A bus pulled up to the curb and the friends leapt on without a care in the world.
But…the bus took them to the middle of nowhere. The driver told them to get off or
pay again for the ride back to the station. Unconcerned, Andres and Michaela stepped
out once again into the rain, because they weren’t sure that this
bus would get them back home.
They splashed through puddles down the winding cobblestone path
and sang, “It rains in Spain and their chestnuts are never plain.”

Andres pointed to the end of the street where another bus had just
pulled up, and they raced to catch it. Once seated, Andres and Michaela assured
each other that this must be the bus that would take them back home. They
began visiting with some very nice people sitting beside them who helped them
find the right bus stop. Thanking these wonderful new friends, Andres and
Michaela made their way to the door and slid out into the rain.

What a wonderful adventure! Andres mused, “Michaela, I think we just
lived a children’s book!” His friend smiled and they
splashed through puddles down the winding cobblestone path
and sang, “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.”

****This is a true tale of an adventure that Andy and his friend, Michele, had earlier
this week in Spain. I just added a few lyrics:)

Stubby the White-winged Dove

(Stubby is a dove that has visited our porch feeders everyday
since March. Her beak is broken off.)

The Runaway Blaze

Once there was a little boy who decided to run away.So he told his Gransie, "I just think I'll run away!"

"If you run away," whispered Gransie, "I will run after you. You are my precious Blaze."

"Well, if you run after me, Gransie," Blaze insisted, "I'll become a fluffy cloud and drift way up high into the sky."

"If you drift up high above the earth," Gransie said,"I'll become a balloon and soar with you on the wind."

"Gransie!" Blaze exclaimed. "If you become a balloon, I'll become a bumblebee and zoom way up in a live oak tree."

"Blaze, if you buzz away to a beehive, I'll become a beekeeper and find you in the midst of a thousand bees," assured Gransie.

"Well....well....ummm," Blaze uttered nervously, "Gransie, if you find me in the middle of that beehive, I'll become a big lizard. And I'll be camouflaged and no one will ever be able to see me."

"If you become a camouflaged lizard, Blaze, I will become a beautiful rock that you can rest upon," Gransie insisted.

"But, Gransie," Blaze was frustrated! "If you become a rock, I'll just....I'll just.............become a giant sunflower and grow up tall toward the sun."

Gransie sighed, "And, Blaze, if you become a sunflower and grow tall, I'll become a farmer. I'll water you and love you, and I'll always take care of you."

"Oh, my goodness, Gransie!" Blaze shouted.

"If you become a farmer, I'll just have to change

into a perch and jump into a very deep pond!"

"Blaze, even if you jump into the deepest pond in the world, I will get Grandpa to cast his fishing line way out into that water and catch you." Gransie giggled.

"GRANSIE, if Grandpa goes fishing and catches me, I will become a tumbleweed and roll down the road to places far, far away!" Blaze blared loudly.

"If you become a tumbleweed, I'll just rev up my Harley and follow you wherever you go, because you are my precious grandson, Blaze," Gransie calmly said as she placed her arm around Blaze's shoulders.

"Oh, brother," Blaze shrugged as he looked up at Gransie. "I might as well just stay where I am and be your grandson."

And so he did.

"Let's go make some deer burgers,"

whispered Gransie.

Hmmmmmm???

I stepped into the garden early this morning

When much to my surprise,

A familiar hum buzzed past my ear,

And a streak of emerald flashed before my eyes.

Is it really you my little friend?

The feeders are filled. You won't be deprived.

But it's still 43 degrees outside.

The spring blossoms haven't even arrived.

Did you notice the new trellis where our jasmine will grow?

Grandpa put it up only last week.

You and friends can waltz in and out of the vines

And play a game of hide and seek.

Where is Old Maggie? She was sick when you left

And couldn't see or get around.

We lost her a couple of weeks ago.

Her memory stone is here on the ground.

Have we planted the vegetable garden?

Of Course, we're way ahead of you!

The harvest is bound to be plentiful,

And you'll have a fantastic view!

Hummingbird, please, no more questions!

Sip your tea. Build your nest once again.

There'll be time for visiting later,

As our springtime adventures begin.

The Legend of Maggie Mae

Our precious angel~~April 1, 1995-March 16, 2011

On my fortieth birthday,

Pa brought me a big surprise.

She had shiny black hair

With two enormous black eyes.

We named our Yorkie, Maggie,

and took her everywhere.

Adorable and loving,

She looked like a tiny bear.

Early each spring, busloads of children

would come from Gransie's school, of course.

They'd see the goats, the chickens,

and gather the eggs,

tour the gardens and ride the old horse.

We sang around a little fire roasting marshmellows

but the highlight of the day

Was when Puddin' the Wonder Dog

and her sidekick, Maggie, would do tricks

and come over to play.

One day, old Puddin' up and died

And Maggie was at her wits end.

I don't think she ever got over that loss.

She'd roam around and look for her friend.

Several years later, a neighbor called us up

from a couple of pastures away.

He said Maggie'd shown up with her body guards

and assured us that she was okay.

Bruiser, the Rottweiler, and our old coon dog, Missy,

were there right by her side.

Treats, drinks, and rubbins' were enjoyed by all

'til the Garrett taxi arrived.

She spent years chasing rabbits through the prickly pears

with only dust clouds in her wake.

But she got very old, her eyes grew dim

It was all her tiny body could take.

You gave us years of love and joy.

Thank you, Dearest Friend!

We'll miss you everyday, Maggie,

Our love and your legend will never end.