A Big Pile of Rocks!

Recognize this place? James was watching TV today and called me to come look at what he was viewing. He remembered his trip to Stonehenge when he and I traveled to England in August 1993 to spend a couple of weeks with my youngest sister Carolyn and family. They were there for 3 years courtesy of Eli Lilly, living near Windsor Castle and Ascot. It was a fun-filled time, going all over London and the countryside.


One windy, cloudy morning, Carolyn took us to see Stonehenge. James really wanted to stay home and watch the summer olympics being held in Barcelona, Spain. We talked him into going with us but he wasn't too happy. When we arrived at Stonehenge, we parked the car, and walked thru a tunnel underneath the road and came up to Stonehenge on the other side of the road.
James put his hands on his hips and surveyed the area. Then he said, "My word! There's nothing here but a pile of big rocks!" and he was ready to go. Some of the many tourists on the scene laughed and said, "He's right!" The rocks are just sitting out in an open field. They are so very big.


We left there and drove to Bath and checked out the old Roman ruins. He said the baths were too dirty to get in them. He loved going to Windsor village which surrounds the old castle and made friends with the store clerks there. They called him their American friend.


Someday I'll record some more of his excursions in London. He had a good time. Especially on the return trip home when they had overbooked and upgraded us to lst class seats. He had his own private stewardess to take care of all his needs. I had to take him with me or else I would not have been able to go. We both had a good time.

Remembering Mama and Papa Wilson

My Aunt Mattie Lena took this photo and sent to us when we were living in Wurzburg, Germany in 1954. This is how I remember my paternal grandparents. I didn't see them very often after I got married in 1953. We always lived so far away.
We lived with Mama and Papa Wilson (Fannie and Jim) when I was little and I have such good memories of these times. It was during WWII and so many things were rationed. Living the country we were able to grow our vegetables, raise our own pigs and cows for meat and milk, and were pretty much self-sufficient.

My dad had a sugar cane mill and made syrup and when we couldn't get sugar (it was rationed), my grandmother would make syrup cake and it was delicious. We also had a lot of bee hives and harvested the honey to eat and cook with.

I remember the noise of the corn being ground into grits and the sweet aroma of freshly grown corn. We were not allowed inside the grist mill with the giant wheels turning.

Mama Wilson was a great cook. She would make the best biscuits to go with homemade sausage, red eye gravy, and served with whipped cream!! People laugh when I tell them we ate whipped cream with our sausage. Her tea cakes were so good. And I remember her lane cakes, fruit cakes, fig newtons, and custards. Everything she cooked was good!

She was also a talented seamstress, sewing on a pedal sewing machine. Most of the time she made her own patterns. She sewed for ladies in Opp and Elba, including Mrs. Claude Dorsey of the Dorsey Trailer family. They always bought too much fabric and would give her the left over fabric. Mama would fashion dresses for herself or us if the fabric was appropriate for our age.

Mama and Papa dipped snuff and Rooster Snuff was their favorite. They would wash the empty snuff boxes and we would put a mixture of sugar and cocoa in them and pretend to dip snuff. Once we got our "play" box mixed up with the real thing and I let my friend Evelyn be the first to take a "dip" and she was angry with me for a long time. She thought I did that on purpose.

Papa Wilson had asthma real bad and had trouble sleeping at night. He also had cataracts and back then the operation to remove them was quite serious. He was almost blind and spent a lot of time with us children, telling us stories and teaching us things. He taught me to count by dropping kernels of shelled corn into a jar. I can remember how excited I was when I could count to 100 (I must have been 4 then). He taught me how to spell a lot of hard words. He was our guardian angel. I remember we could go anywhere if Papa Wilson went along with us.

Papa Wilson always made the grape juice for church communion and Mama Wilson made the communion bread. My friends would come home from church with me on communion Sundays and we would play " church" and eat the left over bread and drink the grape juice.

My Mama and Papa Wilson were always very special to me. I'm sorry I didn't get to spend more time with them in their later years. They both lived to an old age; Mama was 83 and Papa was 87 when they died.

Washing Clothes

"The Spring" - this cold water spring was on my grandparents farm when they moved to the farm in Curtis, near Elba, AL in the early 1900's. The water came from underneath some giant oak trees. This is where we got water to wash clothes when I was growing up and take baths in the hot summer. We dug a larger area when we moved to the farm in 1996 and the ferns appeared when we cleared the area. I placed the water lily there.

Washing clothes was hard work back in the 30s and 40s. Today when I was washing bed linens, I remembered wash day when I was growing up. We didn't have a washing machine because we didn't have electricity or running water in the early days. Once a week we would load the dirty laundry in a big red wagon and pull it downhill to the spring where we would wash the clothes. It was an all morning chore. First you had to fill the big iron wash pot with water from the spring. Then you would build a fire under the pot and put some homemade lye soap in the water. While the water was heating, we had to bring buckets of water from the spring to fill three big tubs. One was for washing and others were for rinsing. Near the bench where the tubs sat was a large "battlin' block" which was a large tree stump about 3' tall. This is where we battled or beat the clothes to get the dirt out of them, using a battling stick which looked like a minature canoe paddle.

Clothes were sorted and soaked in the hot soapy water after applying lye soap to dirty spots. The whites were washed first, then the colored clothes and finally the dirty work clothes. The clothes were put in the hot boiling water in the wash pot and stirred with the big stick and then they were lifted out of the water with the stick and taken to battling block to be beaten, and then to the lst tub of water to be scrubbed by hand. Water was squeezed out of each garment and they were put into the tub of rinse water. They were rinsed twice. The water was squeezed out and the clothes were hung on a line to dry. The clothes lines were tied between trees and a long stick was used to prop them up when the heavy load of wet clothes made the line fall to the ground in the center. Some things were hung on the fence to dry.

This process took all morning and late in the afternoon we went back to the spring to take the clothes off the line, fold them and bring them home to iron. Most everything had to be ironed since all clothing was made of cotton in those days. Many of the clothes were starched before hanging out to dry. Starch was made by boiling flour and water until it was thick.

The wash water was used until it got too dirty and some more had to be heated. Mother would usually let us get into the rinse water tubs and get a bath when she was finished with the wash. The lye soap was slippery and a very good cleaning agent. We used it to wash our hair and it made it shiny and silky.

We thought we had moved up in the world when daddy dug a hole under the house and installed a hand pump which was located along one wall of the big dining room. This was ok for water used inside but we had to pump the water into buckets and take it outside to do the laundry. I wanted to go back to the "the spring" but mother enjoyed being closer to the house on wash day. I had to help pump the water. Maybe that's why I have big muscles in my arms! We moved to our own house when I was 12 (and there were 4 kids by then) . Our new house had a well on the porch and you would let the bucket down into the well and turn the crank and draw up a bucket of the coldest water. We never had a washing machine until after I left home and went away to college in 1952. In 1996, Jim and I bought the family farm and put a house in the woods near "the spring" and built a water garden there plus a large spring-fed lake behind the house. We lived there until 2003 when we sold the farm and moved to town. Too much work even with all the modern conveniences!! We loved the wildlife, especially the birds but not the armidillos or fire ants that pestered us.

I'll save ironing to write about another day. It was a hard job, especially on hot days in Ala.

Heirloom Teddy Bears

Do you know how Teddy Bears got their name? They were named for Teddy Roosevelt after he went on a bear hunting trip in Lousiana and it was a blunder. The press made a big deal of it and a toy manufacturer started making little bears and called them "Teddy Bears". I made this patriotic bear for a DAR/SAR Constitution Day luncheon in Sept 2005, held at the historic Rawls Hotel restaurant in Enterprise. The guest speaker was Teddy Roosevelt, talking about when he was President.  This colorful bear was given away at the end of the meeting as a door prize.

Do you notice something wrong with this bear made from old quilts? I didn't notice my mistake until I had finished stuffing and sewing up the opening. I had put his ears in the wrong place and he looked like a monkey! I had to remove the stitching at the neck and take the head off, remove the stuffing, turn the head inside out and put the ears in the proper position. Then I stuffed the head again and sewed it to the body. There are many pattern parts for this type bear and you can imagine how thick the cloth is since the bear is made from a very old quilt. The cotton used for the old quilt came straight from the field. It was "carded" and then spread on top of the quilt lining, then put into a quilting frame and quilted with tiny hand stitching. It was not uncommon to discover cotton seeds in the stuffing. When a granddaughter turns 18, I make her a quilted teddy bear. I think maybe she's old enough to take care of them and appreciate them. This bear went to #3 granddaughter, Nerissa. I have 2 more to make in the future.

My Hero, My Dad

This is my dad, Lawrence Wilson, dressed in a tux for my youngest sister Carolyn's wedding in Gainesville, June 15, 1974. He never did like to dress up and this is the only time I ever remember seeing him in formal attire. He was reluctant to "give away" his baby girl, the youngest of 7.

I remember daddy as a farmer, riding his tractor and plowing or picking peanuts. There were no mechanical cotton pickers on our farm in the '40's and '50's. I used to dream that someday they would invent one - and they did much later! We never had a lot of material wealth growing up but he always made sure we had the basic things. And he was so resourceful and could make of repair almost anything - especially cars and engines. He was a good mechanic. I could write a book about my dad. He always praised us when we got good grades in school and this encouraged us to do so. I never wanted to disappoint him. He rewarded us for good work, especially when we had to work in the field. He would leave and go to the store and bring back treats and drinks. Our friends like to work for my dad because he was so nice. When we finished working in the field, he would let us load up on the back of his old truck and go to the creek and go swimming.


This photo was made the week he died from cancer. He took radium treatments and we asked if we could come home and drive him to Dothan for treatments. He said "no"; that he would call us when he needed us. On Sunday, July 25, 1982, I got a call and he asked if I would call the other sisters (5) and tell them that he needed us if we could come. We were all there by Monday, coming from FL, NC, IN, & Washington DC. He wanted us to get the Dr. to let him come home from Opp hospital because he knew he was not going to live very long. We spent 7 days with him at home before he died early Monday, Aug. 2nd. Our son flew to AL from Texas to help care for him three days that week. He couldn't taste so he wanted some beer for breakfast one morningjust to see if he could taste it, and the grandchildren thought that was so funny. The little ones would come in from outside and climb in the bed with him and talk to him the last couple of days when he could no longer get up. My sister Sue is a nurse and she gave him injections for pain. This was a very special week when we could all be there with him. After the funeral, we had dinner at home with extended family, and in a way it was a celebration of his life and we rejoiced that he was no longer in pain.

Rags to Rugs

In January 2003, my sister Christine was visiting with us and she taught me how to crochet rag rugs - from 1-2" strips of cloth. This is my first rag rug. I had so much fun making it that it has become a hobby. I have use so many kinds of cloth, and different sizes of crochet hooks to make different thicknesses of rugs. I can now make one in 8 hours. When we go on long road trips, guess what I do to pass the time - I take along my strips of cloth and crochet a rug.




This is a rug made of green and red for our church Special Persons
bazaar. A friend bought it for her daughter for Christmas to put in her den doorway in her California home. This rug was made from homespun fabric cut into 1" strips.





Every year the Rotary Club that Jim is in has an auction. I made this rug from old garments, mostly my old blouses. Someone bought it for their beach home - and Rotary got a lot of money for this item.




My sister Judy lives in Sarasota, FL. I took this rug to her one spring to put in her newly decorated bath room. It is made of fleece like robes are made of. It was difficult to work with. It is thick and feels good to your bare feet.

This rug was made for the state DAR annual meeting. We were

asked to bring things for the silent auction white elephant room.
I remember it had lots of bids and helped raise a lot of money.

Lately I've been using old sheets to make rugs. I have made all of our 5 granddaughters rugs for their rooms. We have rag rugs all over our house and at entry ways. They can be washed in the washing machine when they get dirty. I usually dry them outside in the sun but can be put in the dryer. Very nice hobby.

You'll Never Know Who You will meet in a Foreign Country

Soon after Jim and I were married, we went to Wurzburg, Germany to live for 2 years. He was in the lst Infantry Division and since he was a Corporal, we could not live in govt. housing. We lived in a little village not far from Emery Barracks where he was stationed. He arrived there in January 1955 and I went in March 1955, as a tourist. We didn't have a car and couldn't afford gasoline even if we had a car. We used      public transportation to get to wherever we wanted to go. Jim relied on the Deutches bundesbahn (train) to get to the army barracks early every morning. We lived upstairs in a private German residence, and ate our meals with them. They didn't speak much English so I got a German-English dictionary and learned conservational German very fast. (I wanted to know what I was eating!)



One morning Jim arrived at the bahnhoff (train station) and wanted to know when the next train was due to arrive. As he was struggling to get an answer, the station master told him he could speak English and Jim was so glad. They began to talk while he was waiting for the train and Jim asked where he learned to speak English. He told him that he was a prisoner of war during WWII and was sent to Camp Rucker, AL. And that he worked on a peanut farm while there and became friends with a farmer and his school teacher wife who tried to teach him English. They kept talking and he asked Jim if he knew where Elba, AL was. Of course he did. That was my hometown. Then he said the farmer's name was John B. Johnson - who lived near my family and we were actually living temporarily in a house in the middle of Mr. Johnson's peanut field when the German man was working there!! He had corresponded with the Johnson family after he returned to Germany and the war had ended. I thought there were so many coinidences in this encounter. I couldn't wait to get back to the US and tell the Johnsons who we met.


Jim got a promotion soon after this encounter at the train station and we were able to move into government housing in Wurzburg and we never went to the train station in the little village again. We have both been back to Wurzburg at different times and it looks much the same except for modern highways (autobahns). Our oldest son Ron was born in Wurzburg and has a German birth certificate. Six years ago on a business trip to Europe, he located the house we lived in, and called us on his cell phone as he stood looking at our house. He sent a photo via his cell phone to our computer and after 50 years, it looks almost as it did when we lived there. (That's our son Ron standing in front of our house at 66 Zepplinstrasse in Wurzburg in 2001. This is his birthplace!)