When I was in my early teens, my grandparents were given a blue heeler (Australian cattle dog). He was a medium sized dog with a scruffy salt and pepper coat, and I thought he looked like he should be owned by a homeless person. He wasn’t anything you’d see and want to cuddle with.
I’d just finished a couple chocolate chip cookies and was rolling past the phone on the wall by the kitchen door when it rang. Immediately, I knew there was bad news coming even though nobody had answered yet. Mom hopped up to grab it, and I continued down the hall as if I could run away from whatever it was. “How is he?” and, “What do … Read More They just don’t make ’em like that anymore.
This story was written a few years ago by my distant relative, Dr. E.O. Lester, about my great-grandfather. E.O. visits the blog from time to time, so if you enjoy this story, leave him a comment at the bottom of this page.
Today would’ve been the 71st.
Hey, Pop. I haven’t talked to you in a while, and I just want to say hi and see how you’re doing. I know you’re doing well, though.
I took a break from everything Saturday and spent the day at the farm doing a bunch of not much. Before lunch, mom and dad scurried around picking vegetables, hoeing, and fertilizing the garden- which is looking pretty good so far this year.
The Noyes House A few weeks ago, I asked one of my distant cousins, E.O. Lester, who has an exceptional knowledge of Vance family history, about an old house, always referred to by my grandparents as the old Noyes house,
Preface- I couldn’t write this without coloring the topic with my perspective no matter how hard I tried. But, after a dozen attempts to do so, I remembered that this blog is the view from my seat. It doesn’t have to be apolitical. As much as I am always going to try to be neutral on political issues, I won’t always achieve that goal, but … Read More The paradox of home
These days I feel more like Mr. Scrooge than Buddy the Elf. While I have no real disdain toward the secularized part of Christmas, in those immortal words of BB King, the thrill is gone. I’m not sure when it left or where it went, but the anticipation and excitement of the season was replaced with stress and responsibilities at some point.
Maw and Pop were my grandparents on my mother’s side. They were both born in the late 1920’s, grew up in the Murphy Creek community about 9 miles east of Louisville in Winston County, graduated from high school at the Bond
One Saturday this past fall, I was sitting on my parents’ back porch watching college football with my dad. After an especially untimely interception thrown by our quarterback, I had to avert my attention from the disaster unfolding on the TV. So, I turned my back to the train wreck and lit a cigar hoping it would soothe my frustration with the game.
I grew up blessed to have two responsible, loving parents in a completely stable environment. I never had a need that wasn’t met, but my wants were satisfied with reserve. Now, I’m grateful for that reserve. Mom and dad were very concerned about my academic success, and they pushed me to do my best constantly. No matter how much I resisted them to try … Read More How’d I make it to here?