Monday, March 17, 2014

Part Nine: The Birds, The Bees ... And The Honey

As I stated in his first post, once weekly I plan to feature a guest writer, my husband. Since we have no children, he has been painstakingly writing down the stories of his childhood to share them with his then 9 year old niece. I wanted her to know what kind of childhood her beloved Uncle was able to enjoy. While enjoying them myself I thought these are so much fun to read, why not share them? So here are the short missives of his memories of growing up in wilds of Florida during the 1950's and 1960's. They're packed with misadventures, romance, and all the confusing things that can happen in our youth. Even though his hometown of Jacksonville is a big city with over a million residents now, during his childhood it was several small communities surrounded by countryside.

This is his story.

(Please note: None of the photos in this post are from our files. They are all from the internet.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The Birds, The Bees ... And The Honey
by Steven R. Hudson

On a warm summer morning we boys, that being Ray, Jackie, Peanut and I,
were walking the trail from Sherwood Forest toward the Mealer house carrying bundles of Dog Fennel stalks we had cut to make a tepee. De-limbed Maple saplings had already been stacked at Ray and Jackie's backyard to make the tepee frame. The Dog Fennel stalks, feathery and green and wreaking of Chlorophyll, would be woven over the frame of Maple to form the walls of our "Injun" dwelling.

Along this path stood an old Bald Cypress. The tree was one that could not help but be noticed, standing alone now on dry ground that was once a shallow wetland and somehow having avoided the saws that felled it's companions. Like all members of it's kind, it was swollen at the
base with many "Cypress Knees" thrusting from the ground nearby. Something was different as we approached the tree this day. A steady buzzing sound from the tree caught our attention causing us to drop our bundles and investigate. There was a hole about six inches wide at the tree's base and a steady stream of Honey Bees flying in and out of the opening. We passed by this tree many times a week on our way to the forest and were surprised that the bees had escaped our notice until now. Being of an age famous for short attention spans, we forgot about tepee construction and set about investigating the beehive. 

The first painful lesson learned was that Honey Bees get highly irritated when you get too near their honey store. Pulling their barbed stingers from our tender young flesh convinced us that another approach was needed. Now it seems that at least one of us brigands had heard that smoke was like a drug to bees. Smoke would calm them, making them docile enough so that we might rob their honey supply without being stung. We began gathering some dry sticks and enough tender to make a small fire near the hive opening and dry leaves would make plenty of smoke to soothe the hive's protectors. A long sapling was cut and used to push the sticks and tender up to the opening which was less than a foot from ground level. Dried grass was wrapped around the pole's tip and lit to make a long "match" to get the sticks and tender burning. This actually worked as smoke drifted up and into the opening. We became emboldened and moved closer, throwing more sticks and leaves on the fire and fanning the smoke into the opening with a palmetto frond. The bees seemed confused and crawled around the opening, no longer flying aggressively toward us. Which of us would be brave (crazy) enough to reach in that opening and pull out the honey comb with it's sweet treasure?

If Peanut was known for anything it was impulsiveness. If you wished to see him do something risky or just plain stupid,  just dare him to do it. So we dared him and straight away, he reached into the hive opening, felt around for a moment, then pulled out a comb a foot long and dripping with honey. Jackie rushed home to fetch a bucket for the honey comb. The bucket was soon filled and raid over, we retired to a shady spot to enjoy our spoils. We cut the comb open and lapped up the honey like thirsty dogs. It was so sweet and delicious and, like dogs, we ate too much and got sick. The bees had gotten their revenge.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A Special Note For Today:
In case my readers haven't noticed,
I'm not much into celebrating holidays.
However, March 17th is a special day for us
because on this day 35 years ago
Sweetie and I had our First Date.
(And, yes, I wore green that day.) :)
We've been together as a couple ever since.
We always, always find some way to celebrate this day.
For everyone else, I hope your day is special too.
Thanks for stopping by.

Happy Saint Patty's Day!


Sunday, March 16, 2014

Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Grieve Not The Spirit

Grieve Not The Spirit 

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

The first lesson each believer in Christ should learn is that immediately upon believing he is given everlasting life. Referring to this fact Ephesians 1:13,14 says:
“In whom ye also trusted, having heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation: in whom also having believed, ye were sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise.”
Mark well, the believer is not sealed by the Holy Spirit, but “with” the Holy Spirit. The Spirit Himself is the seal. Every sincere believer in Christ, then, should rejoice in an accomplished redemption and rest in the fact that the Holy Spirit will keep him eternally safe.

But while we cannot lose the Holy Spirit we can, and often do, grieve the Holy Spirit, as we read in Eph. 4:30. This is why we are told in Rom. 8:26 that the Spirit “helpeth our infirmities” and makes intercession for us, that we might live lives which please and honor God.

The wonderful fact is, however, that “nothing,” not even an aggrieved Spirit shall “separate us from the love of God” (Rom. 8:38,39). Thus in the same breath with which the Apostle exhorts us not to grieve the Spirit he again reassures us that this same Spirit keeps us eternally safe:
“And grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption” (Eph. 4:30).
Does this encourage careless living? Those who think so have missed the whole point of Paul’s appeal. The Apostle does not warn the believer that if he grieves the Spirit he will be lost. Rather, in grace he exhorts:
“Do not grieve the very Spirit who in mercy and love has sealed you as forever His own. Do not repay such love with such ingratitude.”

To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:
"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."
To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.

Thursday, March 13, 2014

A Hodge Podge Post With A Craft Idea

Hubby has finally returned from his central Florida trip to assist his recently widowed father prepare the house for sale.

Hubby's 2013 Honda CB100 in the
Bethel Primitive Baptist Church and Cemetery parking lot
Folkston, Charlton County, Georgia

What a job! He said there where multiple garbage bags of clothing, knick knacks, and just plain garbage to get rid of. He said they're still not finished. Makes me kind of thankful I stayed here. Less work and I get to sleep in my own bed. *smile* Now I understand that his father has major blockages in one or both of his legs and needs surgery. Poor man. When it rains it pours.

While perusing the Yahoo! News, which I try to do every evening, I noticed this interesting article titled "5 Things To Do With Old Sweaters".


They offered some really interesting ideas! From dog beds to pillow covers and purses, etc. I love this! I think that using old sweat shirts may work as well. Has anyone made any of these or anything similar? Please share. I enjoy "repurposing" old clothes and furniture.

Have a great evening folks!



Monday, March 10, 2014

Part Eight: Indian River Memories

As I stated in his first post, once weekly I plan to feature a guest writer, my husband. He has been painstakingly writing down the stories of his childhood to share them with his then 9 year old niece. I wanted her to know what kind of childhood her beloved Uncle was able to enjoy. While enjoying them myself I thought these are so much fun to read, why not share them? So here are the short missives of his memories of growing up in wilds of Florida during the 1950's and 1960's. They're packed with misadventures, romance, and all the confusing things that can happen in our youth. Even though his hometown of Jacksonville is a big city with over a million residents now, during his childhood it was several small communities surrounded by countryside.

This is his story.

(Please note: None of the photos in this post are from our files. They are all from the internet.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Indian River Memories
by Steven R. Hudson

Not all my adventures revolved around our home in Center Park. We made frequent trips to Ft. Pierce to visit Grandma Cootie. She and my step
grandfather no longer lived on Angle Road but had moved into an old wood frame house fronting on Indian River in St. Lucie. There was a great open porch without railings surrounding the structure. A stately old Live Oak tree stood in front amidst tall Cabbage Palms. The side and back yard had Orange and Grapefruit trees. A dock stretched at least a hundred feet into the river with a large platform at it's end and Coconut Palms lined the paved road that fronted the house. Looking across the river, (actually a salt water lagoon) you could see Mangrove jungles that defined the shallow waters of the far bank and small islands, covered with Australian Pines were strung like pearls along the river's channel.

Grandma was an excellent cook and enjoyed cooking up huge feasts in preparation for our visits. Exiting the car, we could smell the aroma of roasts, hams and home baked pies and cakes from her kitchen. We would eat until we could hold no more and Grandma would carry on, decrying our "small appetites" and all the left overs she had to deal with. Of course, the next few days would see the left overs disappear. Everything she cooked always tasted so good.

Evenings found us all on the dock to catch Mangrove Snappers, Trout and Snook. If the shrimp were running, a Coleman lantern would be hung over the water to draw the shrimp to the surface to be scooped up with a dip net.
Sometimes something unusual would be drawn to the light and our baited hooks like a Barracuda or an eel like Cutlass Fish. Needle Fish would chase the small fish drawn by the light and were a prize if you were fast enough to net one as there was no better bait for big Snook. Breakfast would consist of crispy fried fish fillets, eggs and grits. It was so good waking to the aroma of fish frying and coffee bubbling in Grandma's old fashioned percolator. Breakfast over, we might take a boat ride on the river with Uncle Bill as we called our step grandpa, to gather fresh oysters if they were in season or go to one of his favorite fishing spots for Sea Trout or Snook. Uncle Bill grew up on the Indian River, earning a living in his youth as a commercial fisherman and it seemed he knew every cut, creek and island it held. He could tell stories by the hour about his life on the river, trolling wire lines for Trout, catching sea turtles and even Manatees. Such activities would be illegal now but in those days these animals were abundant and anything you could catch would be used for food.

Uncle Bill's mother lived in an old wooden house on 32nd Sreet in Ft. Pierce. We called her Gramoddy. Her yard was a jungle of old trees, vines and bamboo and looked out of place next to the neatly manicured lawns of other homes on that street. Her next door neighbors were Robert and Gladys Loyd. They were wonderful folks and friends to my Grandma and Uncle Bill. They had a daughter my age named Sherry, my first crush, and I would go next door to the Loyds whenever we visited Gramoddy to see her. Mr. Loyd had a very successful fruit trucking business and I remember him and Mrs. Loyd being kind, friendly people. It seems they were always making homemade ice cream when we visited and it tasted so fine under the shade trees of their back yard. Grammody's yard was a great place to view nature. She had bird feeders all round her house and she would hand feed peanuts to the squirrels, all of which she had given names. The most tame was a female she called "Gray Baby". I would watch her bird feeders for hours and she would help me identify the birds that I was not familiar with. I saw my first Painted Buntings at her feeders and my interest in watching birds was born and nurtured there.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Mercy Upon All

Mercy Upon All 

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Have you ever wondered how the pagan world got that way: idol-worshipping, wicked, gripped by superstition and fear?

The Bible supplies the answer in Paul’s Epistle to the Romans. Three times in Chapter 1 we read of the Gentile world: “He gave them up… He gave them up… He gave them over….” Why? Because they had given Him up: “And even as they did not wish to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient [becoming]” (Rom. 1:28).

It would have been difficult to believe 30 or 40 years ago, that our young people would be dancing to the wild, exotic music of pagan lands (if this can be called music), or that our studios would be selling the twisted, hideous paintings of pagan art (if this can be called art).

When you wonder why the lovely melodies and harmonies of yesteryear have given place to the noise and din of today’s “music”; when you wonder why the beautiful paintings of those days have been largely replaced by the masterpieces of chaos that surround us now — why in so many ways we seem to be reverting to paganism — read Romans 1.

All this is the natural result of a departure from God and His Word. Yet there is hope and assurance and joy in store for any individual who will yet heed the message of God — particularly in the Book of Romans. Here we read how Jew joined Gentile in rejecting Christ, and God had to give them all up. But listen to this passage from Rom. 11:32: “For God hath concluded them all in unbelief THAT HE MIGHT HAVE MERCY UPON ALL.

That is, He gave up the Jewish and Gentile nations so that He might show His grace to any individuals who might turn to Him by faith in Christ, thus reconciling both (Jewish and Gentile believers) unto Himself in one body, by the cross (Eph. 2:16).


To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:
"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."
To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

It's A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

It is so nice to be over that head cold. I finally stopped coughing like an old smoker, and can finally breathe well enough to walk without weezing. Needless to say, it's been a lost week for me.

As I strolled around the property, I noticed that during the heavy rains we had, the Wild Plum have started blooming. This makes the Yellow Jackets (a nasty brute of a wasp) and other more tame bees very happy.


Also, I noticed the Eastern Red Bud tree is at the tail end of blooming. A mature Red Bud can put on a spectacular show. I missed most of it this year.



Did you notice? I've learned how to add picture frames to my photos, just like Haven For Vee. Her blog always looks so pretty. And I feel like a pro now! *lol* For anyone that has Corel Paint Shop Pro, it's right there in the menu. All these years of using the program and I never noticed it. Silly me.

Husband is in Florida for a few days. He is helping his father cope with the impending demise of his wife "C". "C"s kidneys have shut down. She has ceased seeking treatment and is now in Hospice awaiting the inevitable. Please forgive this ugly comment but she's not well liked. By anyone. The woman has zero friends. Sad, isn't it, to be in your 80s and not a soul will grieve your passing. At least she does acknowledge Jesus Christ as her Lord and Saviour so she has the hope and promise of resurrection. I just think it's really tragic that someone's life has been such a waste. It's not a happy home there, but Husband being the good Christian man and dutiful son that he is, is with his father. Father-in-law is also not in the best of health. At least having his son there will help him during his passage from long-time marriage to widower. I admire my Husband so much. He always thinks of others first. 

Therefore, I have been busying myself with yard work today to pass the time. I find it comforting to finish something and working on the property is a healthy way to work out the "head cold hangover" kinks. 


That pile of debris at the bottom left hand corner is what I accomplished this morning (click photo to enlarge). I couldn't believe how many Catclaw, Potato Vine, and wild Confederate Jasmine where snaking through the trees. Now I'm sore and tired. But it's a happy tired, knowing that I'm doing my bit to make our place look a little nicer. I plan to put a wooden swing by the walk through gate. Maybe also some bird houses, wind chimes, feeders and any little yard decoration I can afford.

Well, I hope everyone is also having a pleasant weekend. 

Thanks for stopping by and putting the kickstand down.

"This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."
[Psalm:118:24]


Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Status Update

Jack and Sam
The Jack Russell Terrorist Brothers

I have been under-the-weather this week with a rip snortin' head cold. I haven't had one lay me this low since about 1993. I hope to be back and in snarky ... eh ... sparky form soon.

Hope everyone is having a wonderful week.

~ Ride Safe ~
Sparky