Funny Friday ~ How In The World Did This Happen?

Have you ever slapped yourself on the head and said, "How in the world did this happen??!!"

~ Ride Safe ~

Sparky

Part Six: Blackberries And Fishing

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.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Blackberries And Fishing
by Steven R. Hudson

You could nearly live off the land in Center Park, I think, and Blackberry* season was proof. There were two large berry patches, one on the east side of

"Sherwood Forest" where unsold lots had become fields of grasses, new growth trees and wild flowers. The other was in a clearing at the end of a two path dirt road on the south side of Beach Blvd. The Alhambra Dinner Theater sits on the exact spot today. In late May and early June the sweet, juicy berries would ripen, luring me and my friends. We carried brown paper bags to haul back the tasty treasure that our moms would bake into cobblers and pies. The bags would get soaked by the purple-red juice as they filled to overflowing. Our lips would be stained also as we ate about as many berries as we gathered. Blue jeans and sneakers were worn as protection from the thorny vines but our hands and arms got scratched from reaching into the tight spots that always held the best berries. Hot cobbler with vanilla ice cream would be the reward that evening.  

Sometimes berry picking could be a little scary. Ray, Jackie and I were picking berries in the patch near Sherwood Forest one morning. The vines grew in mats atop knee deep grasses that made it impossible to see where you were placing your feet. Our bags were nearly full when the air suddenly exploded with sound of escaping steam. We froze, too scared to even move. A big rattlesnake was nearby and we had no clue as to it's location. As if we had been given a signal, we dashed off in three directions like frightened quail. Miraculously, we did not step on the snake as we ran all the way back to Ray and Jackie's house. A few days later, the lure of the sweet berries was too much and we returned, each armed with a long stick. We poked the clumps of grass as we went and listened for the rattler. Nothing was heard and we soon got over our fear.

Fishing was a common summer activity and there were three good fishing holes. The creek which I've already mentioned, a canal on the northwest side of Sherwood Forest (built as subdivision drainage no doubt) and a large forest pond, not far from the berry patch south of Beach Blvd. The pond is now in the center of an apartment complex next to the Alhambra Theater. The canal was our favorite because it was nearby and there was plenty of room to swing our cane poles. There were Blue-gill and Warmouth bream in abundance. Large-mouth Bass were there also but we did not know how to catch them. It was so satisfying to walk home with a long string of fish over your shoulder. 

Summer meant afternoon thunderstorms which filled the ditches to overflowing on Cornelius St. The ditches drained down to Beach Blvd and from there to the creek. Soon they were full of minnows, crawfish, water snakes and fingerling bream and pickerel. We waded the ditches, catching small fish to put in Mason jars or old fish bowls. There were many small water snakes which I easily caught, firing up in me an endless fascination with snakes.

(Please note: None of the photos in this post are of his actual childhood. The *Blackberries mentioned are actually Dewberry but most locals call them Blackberry.)

Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Grace Not Earned

Grace Not Earned 

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Berean Bible Society
Printer Friendly Version

Have you ever noticed that God does not hold the great men of Scripture up to us because of their personal goodness? Almost invariably their records are marred by failure and sin, but God bids us look at their faith, to see what their faith did for them. Even those who lived consistently good lives are not held up to us for their personal worth, because God knows their imperfections. Thus Rom. 4:2,3 says:

“For if Abraham were justified by works, he hath whereof to glory– but not before God. For what saith the Scripture? Abraham believed God, and it was counted unto him for righteousness.”

And Verse 6 goes on to say about David:

“Even as David also describeth the blessedness of the man unto whom God imputeth righteousness without works.”

This is because man cannot live a life good enough to make him acceptable to God, for with God only perfection is good enough. One sin spoiled the earth; God will not allow one sin to spoil heaven too. This is why in grace He gave Christ to die for our sins and to pay the just penalty for us. Because of the all-sufficient payment of Christ in our behalf, God can now be “just, and the Justifier” of those who place their faith in Christ (Rom. 3:26).

The famous eleventh chapter of Paul’s letter to the Hebrews bears out the fact that salvation, or acceptance with God, is obtained, not by human effort, but by faith. This great chapter on the heroes in God’s “Hall of Fame,” begins with the words: “For by it [faith] the elders obtained a good report,” and then goes on: “By faith Abel …,” “By faith Enoch…,” “By faith Noah…,” “By faith Abraham…,” etc., and closes with the declaration:

“…these all…obtained a good report through faith…”

---

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.

Funny Friday ~ Motorcycles

The weather has been so pleasant we've been knees to the wind a lot this week, so, I thought it very fitting to share a couple of motorcycle jokes. 

Oh, and a Bathtub Test. I thought the "test" fit in after the silly motivational poster.

Enjoy! ~:) 

~ Ride Safe ~

A Ride Through The Country: Our Day In Pictures #Motorcycles

The floors need cleaning. The yard needs raking. The laundry is piling up. But the weather is so pleasant again we took the bikes out for another spin. I figure all these things will still be there tomorrow and the memories will last forever.

Enjoy the ride. ~:)

Not far from home, we stopped on Tyre Bridge Road at Fishing Creek (near Big Satilla Creek) and snapped the last three photos.

Part Five: Trailer Potatoes

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 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.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Trailer Potatoes
by Steven R. Hudson

As I've mentioned in past missives, Grandma Cootie and Uncle Bill often found themselves living in unusual circumstances. Such was the case in the summer of 1954. I was 6 at the time and we, that is Mom, Dad and I were headed to Ft Pierce. I was going to stay with Grandma for a week while Mom and Dad took a short vacation. I guess all young parents need a break, a chance to be together and relive the halcyon days of newlyweds. This would be the fist time I had ever been apart from my mom and dad for an extended period. Mom kept telling me how much fun I would have being with Grandma, all the fun things I would do during my visit. Mom told me about the trailer they were living in and how exciting it would be staying in a travel trailer for a week.

We arrived late afternoon and as soon as I saw the trailer I was excited. It was an Air Stream, it's polished aluminum skin reflected the glow of the setting sun. Rivets adorned the seams of it's fluid, aircraft style body. Enormous Sunflowers had been planted along the trailers sides and their disc shaped blooms towered above my head. Uncle Bill and Grandma had placed the trailer on Grammody's  home lot as a temporary place while they waited to move to a permanent residence. Mom and Dad said their goodbyes. I watched them drive away. A week seems so long when you're only 6.

After the initial fascination of trailer life had started to wane, in other words, about a day, I was getting bored and homesick. There was little to do to hold my interest outside of chasing lizards and catching insects in Grammody's yard. There were no other kids around my age and Grandma was busy each day with her usual chores. Grandma, in an effort to brighten my dour attitude, told me that next morning she was going to prepare something special for breakfast. That would be nice I thought. Grandma was such a good cook.

When I woke next morning there were the usual, wonderful smells coming

from the small two burner range. Coffee perking and bacon frying in the pan. Grandma was busy peeling potatoes and chopping onions. Now I had never heard of having potatoes for breakfast before. Grits, toast and bacon were the only sides that accompanied eggs, maybe ham or fried fish in place of bacon, but potatoes? I sat at the table with my head in my hands, not sure if potatoes were anything special for breakfast. Grandma finished cooking the potatoes , made toast and fried some eggs. I sat there staring at the plate."What are these potatoes called", I asked. "Why these are Trailer Potatoes", said Grandma, "only people who live in trailers make them and that's why they are so special". That is so neat I thought as I devoured the tasty potatoes, eggs and bacon. Cheered by my good fortune, I went outside to chase the lizards and bugs. Next day Mom and Dad came by to take me home. I told Mom all about Trailer Potatoes and asked if we could have them at home even though we didn't live in a trailer. "Of course", she said. Mom and Dad must have been amused by Grandma's clever ploy. It was years later that I was told the truth about Hash Brown Potatoes. 

I ThInK i'Ve GoT cAbIn FeVer ...

For the above abomination, we can blame Miss M. at Blackberry Lane with today's post and Adornpic.com.

*LOL*

Hope it tickled your funnybone. 

And keep repeating ...

"It's almost March ...", "It's almost March ..."