There’s Sand In Hell… Too

There’s Sand In Hell… Too

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

$225.00 for water

$150.00 for sand

$300.00 for swimming pool (on the ground)

Inexperienced person to rake, level sand

Inexperienced person to put up swimming pool

Inexperienced person did best they could

 

 

 

The sand was put over the fence, where all was raked down to make a soft, level place to put a swimming pool up.  A 15 x 3 ft. above the ground pool… what one hears called a ‘poor man’s swimming pool’.

 

Who cares what someone calls it…. it’s wonderful to have when it’s hot… in my situation, it’s a place to help the pain in my body.  So, the pool meant a lot to me.

 

When, finally time for the water truck to come, I knew soon, I would enjoy getting into the pool.  I felt excitement… I am a big kid inside… I looked forward.

 

Oh, how pretty that swimming pool… was!  It was full of pure, clean, soft water.  I put the chlorine into it, turned the pump on… let it circulate.

 

The pool didn’t fill to its full capacity… as one side was a little lower.  It wasn’t noticeable… but, it ‘was’…. a little lower on the side that ‘goes downhill’….. the water guy thought it’d be alright.  So, did several people, including myself…. didn’t look like that would hurt a thing.  Didn’t look like it would make any difference…

 

For two days, I watched the thermometer… the water was 85 degrees… it was time to get in.  I had been imagining warm water over the areas I’ve had major surgery, warm water soothing the ‘forever’ pain I have in my body from these surgeries… I was ready to get in.  I found myself thinking, almost feeling the warmth of the wonderful water.

 

Happy colors filled the pool.  A big, hot pink… white… blue… yellow beach ball floated, rolled on the water.  A nice breeze pushed the hot pink float… neon green float all around on the surface of the water.  Not only that… there were happy-colored ‘noodles’ floating all around, plus… 2 more little happy-colored ‘floats.

 

There’s nothing like standing, looking at a beautiful pool of clear water… full of happy-colors!  I know; I stood there breathing that wonderful air, feeling that wind blow on my skin.  I felt warmth from the sun kissing my skin…. it was like in a movie.  You know how all slows down to that ‘special moment’….

 

 

 

 

I could hear the sounds of birds; I even heard a woodpecker off in the distance…. peck, peck, peck!  I smiled… I love woodpeckers, and I love their sounds.

 

I could hear the soothing drone of an airplane so high above the clouds that I couldn’t see it.  Nevertheless… the sound is what I love to hear.  I heard dogs barking in the distance… I love that sound.  Even an occasional voice, the slam of a door in the distance made my ‘special moment’ …all the more special.

 

I took a deep, happy breath full of all the happiness of colors, sounds I’d just been experiencing…. in.  What a happy breath of air that was!  With that inside my body, I got into that wonderful pool of warm water…. I knew it would get warmer as the summer days went by…

 

My happy self began moving in the water… I looked up at the clouds.  Oh, now… I could watch the very thing I loved to watch… clouds!  I love big, forever-changing shapes of clouds.  Changing constantly… I never get bored watching them!  In this pool… it was going to be wonderful… out in the sunshine shining down on my happy pool of water.  My mind was in the future, feeling… knowing how wonderful… it all was going to be.

 

One little pool of water that meant nothing to anyone else… after all, who would want it… it wasn’t even in the ground.  When one rents a home… this type of pool is perfect.  Also… we are ‘poor men’… and we let some things go… to pay for it.

 

Skip wanted me to have the pool to exercise in… he knows the ‘forever pain’ I live with every day of my life.  I don’t complain… but, he still knows.  Skip was very happy that finally… he had the pool for me to make me feel better…

 

I closed my eyes, floated around on that water.  Oh, God… thank-you for this wonderful pool of water around me, I thought.  It might not mean anything to anyone else… but, to me… it was heaven for my body.

 

If I opened my eyes… it was heaven for them to see all the happy colors around me.  If I looked above… there were the big, fluffy clouds high in the sky.  If I closed my eyes, I could feel the sun, wind caressing my skin with its warmth… I could hear the drone of the airplane as it made its journey across the sky.

 

I could hear barks of dogs, slamming of a door, a voice in the distance… sounds of wonderful life close by… I was in … heaven.  I floated around with the softest, silliest smile on my face.  Heaven… heaven, that’s where I was… and I would spend a lot of days… in heaven this summer.

 

As I floated around on that water with my silly, happy smile, eyes closed… listening to the happy sounds around me… all HELL broke loose!

 

It happened so fast… in front of the world up on that hill, in front of God, in front of everyone.  The next thing I knew was that… I was fighting for my life!

 

I was drowning, I tried to open my eyes!  That beautiful, clear water was trying to kill me!  My mind registered that it was pouring over me as it swept me along with it… I became the water!

 

 

 

 

We swept right across the wall of that wonderful pool…. so fast that my mind couldn’t take it all in.  I thought faster than I could register what I was thinking… but, somehow… I still understood myself!

 

I’m going to drown right here… oh Hell!  That sand is burning my ……, and my knees, tops of my feet!  When is it going to stop!  I was fighting to survive the flood I was in… somehow, getting up through it all…. glancing all around, hoping no one saw me… feeling like the dumbest fool in the world.  I grabbed my wrap, walked quickly into the house… my body hurting more than ever… my pride hurting even more.

 

Once inside, I looked back out to the pool, saw where I’d pulled up on the wall… that the pool sat still… so innocent… just like all hell never broke loose.  I stood there, noticing that the pool still had most of its water.

 

The pain was stinging my body where I was thrown with the water as it began its rush to get out of the pool… where my body met sand ‘here, there’.  I hoped that I hadn’t suffered an injury.  I had so much sand on me… and when I showered, I had to shampoo my hair several times to get it all out.

 

When I got out of the shower… finally… my cellphone rang.  It was Skip.  He’d just gotten a call … water was flooding down the hill across the driveway, toward the neighbors!  They’d tried to call the house phone… I never heard it!

 

The house phone is turned down to low… I never answer it and, everyone who knows me… knows that phone doesn’t mean anything to me… since Tommy died.  No need to call me on ‘that’ phone…  the phone to me… is only good to fax on, use in an emergency when I can’t use my cellphone.  Even the Pups howl… when that phone rings… even on the lowest setting.  I never heard them howl that time, so intent on what I’d just experienced.

 

Skip was concerned about me, about the pool… what happened?  I told him what happened to me…. and he told me he’d just gotten a call that water was flooding from our pool, down the hill, driveway.

 

 

 

 

I ran to the window… there was that swimming pool sitting there so pretty, so calm … the sun shining down on it… my happy colors all washed down to the chain link fence… sand washed down, through the fence…

 

That pool looked so innocent… it still had clean, clear water in it… not much… but, some.  So clean, so beautiful…

 

I stood there… it was a feeling like someone just died.  I was feeling the shock of what happened to me in the pool… somehow, I must have touched the ‘point’ on the ‘low side’… to make all hell break loose.

 

I couldn’t believe it.  My pool of water was gone… what I had left of it … no one could see it.  My pride was hurt, and my body hurt… hurt from the burning of the sand when I came in violent contact with it… that’s when I realized …. there’s sand in hell, too.

 

 

 

 

Just To Let You Know…

Just To Let You Know…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I am at present waiting for battery to go in my mobile hotspot.  I can’t stay online very long… the charge in the battery goes quickly from 100% to 15%… then, the alarm sounds and unit shuts down.

So, I’ll be right here writing just as soon as this is resolved in the next several days.  This is the only way I can get internet here where we live.

I will connect long enough to hopefully put this on my blogs.  Love,

Gloria/aka Granny Gee ))

I’m Guilty As Sin… Food Porn

I’m Guilty As Sin… Food Porn

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

Doesn’t this look good… mmmm-mm, the flavors are wonderful.  I make this now after being ‘seduced‘ by photos on the computer!

 

Diced tomatoes, diced onion, half of a lemon to squeeze juice from, red and yellow bell pepper, cucumber… avocado, saltines…  I was seduced yet, once again… I just can’t seem to resist… Food Porn.

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Is your food better ‘naked or dressed’?  I just heard one of the doctors say that on the TV Doctors.  I really like to watch them, they talk about any, everything.  That’s why I like to watch, listen.

 

They tell things like they really are… everyone can learn.  I wish they’d been around when I was a child… I would have never grown up learning everything the hard way… because of being too embarrassed to ask.

 

Truthfully, I can tell you now… I’m old enough.  I made the ‘darnest mistakes’, learning things as I grew up.  Some… I will never, never-ever tell you.  I can’t bear to think of them… I know I’m not going to tell you!  I mean it, now!  :)))

 

I like dressed food, myself.  I like ‘good stuff’ on my food.  It makes me really want it… put it in my mouth, eat it… ‘pure savor’ the ‘deliciousness’ of it.

 

The TV Doctors are talking about Food Porn… I know sometimes, we see food being ugly.  I try not to look at it.  :)))  Sometimes, I have to act like I’m not looking… but, I am!  I really try to be good.

 

You know…. the fresh, crisp, green lettuce all up on that hamburger, hugged as tight as tight can be.  Not only that, the cheese is stuck, pure melted… all over it!

 

Slices of red-red tomato, and white rings of onion laying on top of each other, on top of the yellow cheese… it ought to be a sin to see food like this.

 

To top it off… all that yellow mustard, white mayonnaise dressing it to the max… if your mouth waters… then, you aren’t any more innocent than I.  I know you like it, too!  You bad girl… you bad boy!

 

To top the ‘whole’ thing off… there may be sesame seeds adorning the bun ‘holding it all’.  You know you want it… if you are even grinning the slightest… I bet you get one before the day is out.

 

I try to be as good as good can be… but, when I see that… I want it, too!  Seductive food… I want a hamburger, now!  So, I’m guilty without meaning to be… I like porn… Food Porn.  The ‘good thing’ is that… I like dressed foods.  Not all bare, naked…. ugh!  :)))  So… I’m not … all bad.

 

I can see it now… all the wonderful fresh colors of tomato, onion, mushrooms, bell pepper… both red, yellow, orange; cucumber … all on a bed… of lettuce.  Next, the creamy Blue Cheese dressing with chunks of blue cheese… poured slowly on top…. on the side of the plate are two boiled eggs, cut in half… with deviled egg yolks inside each.

 

I mean those yolks have been mashed up good with mayonnaise, seasoned… gently folded back into each half of egg white… looking better than it did when it came out.  Sprinkle that with just the right amount of paprika… just beautiful.

 

Top it off with a big, dark-green dill pickle, and some white saltines… oh my.  Don’t forget to put the pine nuts, green edamame peas on top.  Do you see ‘why’ I love dressed foods?

 

So, naked foods… don’t tempt me…. it’s the dressed-up stuff that does.  I should get some credit… since I don’t pay attention to naked foods.  Dressing does make all things… better.

 

I just realized as I’m writing.  I have been committing Food Adultery.  I have to tell Skip… I’ve heard talking, thinking about something is almost like actually doing it.  I’m just before… lusting after a good hamburger.  Squeeze extra mustard on it, please… yeah, put an extra slice of onion on it… that’s right.

 

While you are at it, give me a cup of that fine… crushed ice, tea to wash all that goodness down my throat.  If that’s Food Porn… I’m guilty as sin.

 

The way they describe Food Porn is how it’s posed to be seductive to our taste buds.  When we look at it, our mouths drool, saliva flowing down our chins.

 

Oh, how we want that food more than anything in this world.  I notice if I would just close my eyes… look away… I’m not tempted.  We should all look away, so … we aren’t tempted to taste the delights of the world.

 

All that wonderful green, healthy, nutritious food!  I can feel it as it slides down my throat.  I’m thinking of something one of the TV Doctors suggested… think about healthy Food Porn.

 

At this moment, I was thinking about celery.  Dressing it with pimento cheese… orange-colored with beautiful flecks of red pimento cheese!  Crisp, cold, fresh-green celery… so crunchy-good when chewing it; the flavors of celery, pimento perfectly blending perfectly.

 

Anyway, I like dressed …everything.  I don’t want to see naked people, animals… much less… plain food.  I love the eye appeal… colors, textures, design.  Same way with clothes… I pay attention to detail.  That’s what seduces me…

 

Food Porn… well… in my ‘Gloria opinion’… that is why there’s obesity in a lot of cases.  It’s Food Porn… where beautiful foods are posed in their very best light; to tempt, tease us with… colors, textures, scents, aromas tempting us all.

 

I think if we didn’t look… or allow our noses to smell… we’d never be seduced by foods.  I ‘try to be as good as good can be’… but, I like Food Porn… I love to look at posed foods with all the colors, textures, smells.  I’m guilty as sin!

 

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I Sold My Mama Out For A Quarter… Childhood Memories

Gloria Faye Brown Bates as the little girl who tried to be good, not get into trouble.  I didn’t want to go to hell, because my ‘little tail would surely burn’, if I did.  When the world came to the end… I didn’t want things from the sky to fall on my head…

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I Sold My Mama Out For A Quarter… Childhood Memories

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

I opened the bottom drawer to peek inside.  I was very young, no older than six years old.  I was a very curious little girl.  I was mischievous; I got into everything.  I saw things I shouldn’t… I knew things I shouldn’t… but, at that time… I didn’t know that I shouldn’t.

 

I would watch, study things trying to understand all going on around me.  Of course, I would be a big girl to understand one day the images, memories I had as that little girl.  If I had a little girl, I would protect her, never just trust everyone to be what they ‘seemed’ to be.

 

Sometimes… fine, up-standing citizens of the community are the ones people need to keep a secret eye on… when around their children.  Pretend to trust them… all the while watching how your child acts around them.

 

You all know how a lot of ‘good citizens, and Christians are’… they are the ones who can do ‘bad’ things, get by with it.  Why?  Because, everyone knows ‘they’d never do such a thing!  That’s ‘why’ they do.

 

Want to know my answer to that?  Yes, they will… oh yes, they will.  They’ll do everything you think they ‘would never do’.  Going to church, preaching at a church… being a banker, business-owner, barber, doctor… millionaire…. doesn’t automatically mean they are ‘good’ people.  They are good at what they do… to little girls.  No one ever knows ‘they will do that’…

 

I promise you, I met some of those people as a child… they can touch, hurt little girls all the while smiling, being ‘good people’.  No adult ever knows the difference.

 

If a little girl doesn’t know that a good person will do ‘bad’ things… when they do them… she doesn’t know the difference.  She just knows… she becomes afraid… but, ‘why?’

 

Back then… grown ups were different.  They didn’t let children ‘be themselves, be educated, learn to tell on someone who tried to touch, molest them.  Grown ups told children that …. ‘children should be seen, not heard’.  That meant ‘you’d better shut up’……

 

So many things happened… I don’t think things were ever still around me.  The calmest times were when Josephine came each day to care for my little brother, and I.  I loved her dearly.  I wish I could have found her when older, before she died.  I would tell her how much she meant to me ‘back then’.

 

She would sing to us, hold us, tell us about Jesus.  The only time she made me afraid was when she told me about the ‘end of the world’.  The end of the world was coming soon.  I couldn’t understand, felt fear.  I didn’t want things to fall from the sky, hit me on the head.  I didn’t want my little tail to burn in hell.  She said if I wasn’t good, that’s exactly what would happen.  I tried to be good… I did try.

 

I was scared; sometimes, while drinking ‘tea’ in my little tea cup outside, I would look up at the sky.  The sun seemed to always be shining when I did.  Things she would talk about, tell us were things only grown-ups could understand.

 

I’d think about them when I played.  She’d tell us about Cuba, and Castro… I’d feel fear.  Not only was the world coming to the end, someone was coming here that hated us; he was going to get us, too.

 

This was the time, also… I would hear the song about the ‘Streets of Laredo‘… and I ‘felt the lonely’ from the words.  I didn’t know then, what it meant… I just felt sad.

 

The sandman would come every night to put sand in my eyes, so… I’d go to sleep.  Strange, I never worried about ‘sand’ being put in my eyes… then.  I did love for my mama to tuck me into bed… how loved I felt… then.

 

Later in life when I became deathly ill, after being diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma (cancer)… I would imagine my mama coming to gently tuck my blanket around my ears so, they’d stay warm.  I didn’t know I was in the world, but… I felt my mama doing that.  I felt such comfort; I was dying… I didn’t know to be afraid.  I was the darkness with only fleeting thoughts… I ‘just was’…

 

The Purple Beep-O-Leter, or some silly song played all the time, then.  Puff The Magic Dragon… whenever I lost a tooth, the tooth fairy would bring me lots of bubble gum balls… happy colors.  She would bring me lots of coins, also.  I’d chew all the bubble gum I could get in my little mouth… until I’d become sick, throw up.

 

Josephine was a kind soul, her eyes soft when she looked into my little face.  I loved her; I just didn’t want her to talk about those bad things.  I think she just wanted everyone to go to heaven with her when she went.

 

She decided one day that she would take both my little brother, and I … to her church to a funeral.  A black funeral.  I’d never seen black people excepting Josephine… her daughter, Maxine… at that time.

 

The church was within view from where we lived on the corner of Elm Street.  She pointed it out to me.  I wanted to go!  I loved to ride in the car, lay on the soft carpet on the ‘hump’, fall asleep.  When I would wake up, we’d be at the drive-in show.

 

We didn’t ride in the car to the funeral.  We walked hand in hand with Josephine in the middle. We just walked as far as I could see… the church was ‘right there’…

 

We walked up the steps, I heard music!  I loved music.  She took us into the church where I saw many dark faces looking down at me… their faces full of kindness, their eyes were soft.

 

People sat down, a man began to talk; as he talked… he got louder.  I felt nervous… loud meant someone would be hurt.  Josephine put her hand on mine, smiled.  I trusted Josephine, I leaned into her for comfort.

 

She stood up, took my hand… I’m sure she had my little brother’s hand, too.  I can’t see him in my memory… what I do see, hear in my memory is singing.  I saw dark faces smiling happy smiles, singing; clapping their hands.  I placed my hands together, smiled.

 

We were in a line walking to the front of the church… there was someone lying there… there was a man sleeping there on white pillows.  He was dead.  Josephine said he was going to heaven to meet his maker.  He was a good man. I stood on tiptoes… I wanted to see, too.  The man lay there, his face was so kind.

 

I could tell that people liked him… glad he was going to heaven.  He never woke up while we were there… I watched closely.

 

Where was heaven?  Whatever it was, it sure was a good place to go.  Josephine had already told me to be good, so… I could go there, too.  She said I sure didn’t want to go to hell… my little tail would burn!

 

Sometimes, after the funeral… I would be worried.  I was becoming aware of life around me… sometimes, I was afraid.  Especially about when the world came to the end… things were going to fall on my head, people would cry, scream.  If I wasn’t a good girl, my little tail was going to burn in hell.  I tried to be good…

 

I had begun watching tv… and that’s when I first saw Popeye the Sailor man, Olive Oil, Brutus, Wimpy, Sweet Pea.  I was most familiar with Popeye, and Olive Oil… and ‘that’ mean Brutus.

 

My little brother and I were always told to eat our spinach, so we’d grow up to be strong like Popeye.  I wanted to be strong; I don’t remember if my brother wanted to be, too.  One would have to ask him.

 

Well, I do remember my mind was on Popeye the Sailor man… I saw something in the bottom drawer that looked like him.  I wanted to look in that drawer again.  Somehow, I knew to not make a noise.  I eased the drawer open…. how does a little girl know… to sneak?  How does she know the meaning of ‘sneaking’?

 

Sneak, I did.  I reached for the ‘comic book’ in that bottom drawer.  There he was!  Popeye the Sailor man, and Olive Oil!  I liked them, and disliked Brutus.

 

The only thing was… even at that young age… I knew somehow Popeye the Sailor man was doing something…. something.  You know.  Mmmmm-mmm…. well, I was older before I knew what ‘it’ was… and the name for it.

 

I heard a sound, and hurriedly put that comic book back in the drawer, closed it quickly!  I don’t know if I ever looked at it again.  I didn’t see on the tv cartoons those things he was doing to Olive Oil… that he was doing in the comic book.

 

One day, I was walking through the hall.  The wooden floor was so shiny, glowing with a soft light.  I loved my home.  My little brother and I would chase each other through the hall into the kitchen, living room, back into the hall, bypassing the bedrooms, and bathroom.

 

My ‘daddy’, at least at that age I was told he was my daddy, had a huge wooden chest in the hall near the back door.  So many times the corner of it would cut my knee as I turned to run into the kitchen.  It left a permanent scar there.

 

I had been outside playing in the white sand in the front yard under the huge, old Oak tree.  I had been entertaining my friends no one could see… we drank ‘tea’ from my tea cups.

 

I walked over to the bank, where the sweet peas grew, sat down.  I watched the cars go by.  As a grown up now… when I see that little bank… I was too close to the street.

 

I looked to my right, and thought about climbing up the huge hill, to walk on the railroad track.  I didn’t.  There was a man who would see me every time when I sneaked up there… he’d come tell on me, all the while looking down at me.  He said he just didn’t want to see me get killed.

 

The screen door made a sound as I pulled it open.  I was going to go find my mama, my ‘daddy’.  My little brother was taking a nap.  We had to take naps everyday.  I can’t remember ‘why’ I wasn’t napping.

 

I tiptoed down the hall to my mama’s bedroom.  The door was open, I turned to the left, stepped through the doorway; something stopped me.

 

I put my little hand to my mouth, and began to snicker.  I couldn’t believe what I saw… I didn’t want to make a noise.  I kept my hand on my mouth, and I raised up on tiptoes.  I held my head up, looking down my nose to see what I could see…

 

I’d never seen my mama, ‘daddy’ … naked.  I was fascinated.  I did accidentally see my ‘daddy’ one time; I went to the bathroom, he was in there.  How does a child always look where they shouldn’t?  I guess maybe … because when little, ‘everything’…. is at ‘eye-level’.

 

I vaguely remember not knowing ‘what that thing was’…. now, I was seeing it again.  I was seeing my mama and ‘daddy with no clothes on!  They both were on their backs, asleep.  No one would believe this!  I was giggling through my hands…

 

I tiptoed back through the hall quickly.  I opened, closed the screen door, and ran lightly across the porch, down the steps.  I was going up the street to my friends’ house… they wasn’t going to believe it!

 

“If you give me a quarter, I’ll show you something you won’t believe”!  I told my friends, Connie and Rhonda, that I could show them something they wouldn’t believe.  They gave me a quarter, and I told them to hurry, come on!

 

We all three ran back down the street, I was giggling.  I couldn’t wait for them to see what I had to show them.  We all three got to the porch, I told them to be quiet.

 

We began tiptoeing, holding our little shoulders tight, being ever so quiet.  I put my hand over my mouth, I was getting hysterical.  I wanted to giggle out loud!  They put their hands over their mouths, they knew it was going to be worth the quarter they gave me.

 

I got to the bedroom door, stood there looking… motioning for them to come on!  I pointed my finger, whispered, “look”!  They both came to the doorway, I watched their faces.

 

Their mouths fell open, making me begin to overflow with laughter.  I had to run down the hallway, to get out of the house before someone heard me.  I would get into a lot of trouble!  They followed me, holding their mouths… I could hear them giggling!

 

We made it outside… no one was ever the wiser.  I never told my mama about ‘selling her out’ for a quarter!

 

 

 

 

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Photos Of My Straw Bale Garden…

Photos Of My Straw Bale Garden…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

Today, I took photos of my straw bale garden.  There are little tomatoes on some of the plants.

 

I saw one bell pepper growing, and I see yellow blooms on the squash vines.

 

This is the week we get our grass cut, so… please excuse the ‘tall’ grass.  Our yard doesn’t normally look like this.  It is mowed every two weeks.

 

We got lots of heavy rain off Andrea, the tropical storm. Today, it seemed like the grass grew much higher.  :)))

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can see my ‘makeshift’ fence that will be easily taken down at the end of summer.  This is to keep the deer out.  I didn’t make a big straw bale garden, as this is an experiment.  I wanted to see how it does.

 

I like the idea of using the bales.  So, next year… Skip will get more bales for me to play in.  I was thinking I’d like to have like two rows stacked, one row along side of that… or maybe just 3 rows stacked… with plants growing out from the sides.  :)))

 

The fence is a portable dog fence… that is stretched out, connected to the gate (with the orange garden hose).  The gate is connected to the Baker’s Rack that I use for gardening.  All can be taken down in a matter of minutes… no one the wiser.  How simple is that?

 

Oh, I have containers, experimenting with them.  I read about using different containers like people do in big cities on their balconies… to garden.  I cut in half 2 liter bottles, and the gallon water jugs from water we purchase, to recycle them.  They work rather well, for a small garden like I have. I can throw them away easily at the end of summer, also.

 

This is my update on my straw bale garden.  A lot of people have been asking.  I’m sure some of you who did plant one… have beautiful plants in yours.  Happy gardening!

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Everything A Child Does Is Right… Until He Knows It’s Wrong

 

Everything A Child Does Is Right… Until He Knows It’s Wrong

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

She lay there on the ground.  Her skin felt as if she’d been beaten.  Felt like hands, fingers had pressed too hard into her skin.  Pain… she couldn’t breathe; she felt faint.  Her hair had been pulled; her scalp burned.

She struggled to get to her feet.  She didn’t know she was crying; but… she did know she was mad.  Mad at the son of b____ for doing that to her.  She’d fix their asses.

The anger began to disappear; when it did, her heart began to hurt.  Why, why did they do that to her?!  Why?!  She began to visualize in her young mind what they did to her… tears fell harder from her eyes.  Angry tears, tears of pain.  They hurt her!  They were going to pay!

She lay on the ground, her arms and legs were trapped.  Her two best friends held her down.  One friend, who was a very young girl, held her arms.  The other friend, a young boy, held her legs apart.  Someone had pulled her dress up over her hips… and… she could feel the wind on her naked skin.  No!  No! No!  They could… see her down there!

She struggled, fighting to free herself.  She’d kill them when she got her hands on them.  She felt the pure, white fire of hate flow through her body… someone was going to get hurt when she got loose.

They were holding her down so, another boy could get on top of her.  As he began to cover her body, she began screaming.  She screamed as loud as she could.  No one could shut her up… her cousins let go of her arms, legs.  They jumped up, stepped back… eyes wide in shock.  They had never expected such a reaction… hell was in the young girl’s eyes… somebody was going to die.

The young girl began getting up, trying to cover her nakedness.  She was so angry, ashamed.  The boy had seen her naked, he was going to….  She was pissed off; they were going to be sorry they hurt her!

Tears flowed down her cheeks.  Oh God, please help me!  She got to her feet, glaring angrily at her friends.  How could they do this to me, she thought.  Just how could they?  She loved, trusted them so much … now, they had almost helped her to be …… what was the boy going to do to her?  She didn’t know the words for it… only that he was going ‘to do it’…

All four young children stood there in silence, looking at each other.  Neither one of them were over the age of thirteen, if that.  She could see their faces… her face began to contort in pain with the new knowledge that her two friends, whom she loved dearly… would have let that boy do that to her.   Her heart hurt, knowing they would hurt her like that.

The girl hung her head down, her skin stung from being held down on the ground… their hands hurting her.  The boy looked at her, said he was sorry.  That was the last time she ever spoke to him.  She saw him almost every day… he was in her class at school.  She quit looking at him.

Just three days before her friends held her down, she’d been climbing up a fence post… the boy had been nearby… he came over, began looking up her dress.  She hurt her stomach, inside of her legs trying to slide down to keep him from looking up her dress.

She looked at each friend, saying … “I hate you!  I hate you”!  She walked off, knowing she didn’t hate them… she was hurting because they betrayed, hurt her.  They were going to let the boy do ‘that’ to her… while they held her down.  She didn’t even try to kill them for hurting her… the anger melted away like ice does in hot tea.  All she felt was pain, shame.

No one ever spoke about what happened, not once through time.  The older woman still thinks about it periodically… she forgave them, then.  She never went through life hating, or remembering what they did.  There, in Hell… many things she didn’t understand, happened.  It was just one of those things… that ‘just was’…

Looking back with sadness… she knows probably the little boy didn’t know any better either… children ‘just do’.  Unless a child is aware of right, wrong… everything he/she does is right until… someone lets them know… it’s wrong.

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Cleaned The Dirty Clean…

Cleaned The Dirty Clean…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

Scrub, scrub, scrub.  The little hand took the butter knife, stuck it in the corner to pry matter that had accumulated there… out.  It must have been there for a million years… it didn’t let go easily.

The little hand pushed, pried…put the knife underneath the black, hard dirt.  She began stabbing the knife at it… the ‘damn’ mess was going to come out.

‘Damn’!  The little girl thought that word often.  She’d learn it prior to coming here… to Hell; being thrown into Hell.  In fact, she’d learn this one word while visiting… here… in Hell.

She was trapped in Hell, now.  Only… she didn’t know she was trapped… she didn’t know it… yet.  She was just a little girl… her eyes hadn’t even begun to open …

She didn’t know a lot of things… yet. She did know she said the word ‘damn’ more often… out of fear, pain.  She was in a scary world like she’d never known.  She didn’t know it, but… ‘it was fixing to get worse’.

Mama had tried to wash that word out of her mouth with Ivory soap… she didn’t know that Faye had hidden it… so, it wouldn’t be found.  Now… she used that word whenever she wanted to say it.

‘Damn’ was her word… her mama had almost ‘killed’ her, choking her on the white, Ivory soap bubbles.  Her throat had burned from the stinging, soapy water as some went down her throat.  Coughing, gagging, crying as she struggled to get away.  Her mama had held her until she thought, she’d ‘cleaned the dirty’ out of her mouth.

Grandma Alma was wishing the kitchen floor was clean.  The floor had white tiles.  Faye didn’t say anything as she listened to Grandma Alma… she walked to the kitchen door, looked down.

Grandma Alma couldn’t clean the kitchen floor.  But… she used to keep her floors clean.  She was saying so, in the background as Faye stood there.  Grandma Alma had tears in her eyes… that’s what reached out, touched Faye.

Tears… tears that meant pain from something.  Grandma Alma couldn’t walk anymore… she was paralyzed.  Faye didn’t understand exactly, wasn’t old enough to understand how horrible it was to have a stroke, wake up from a coma, paralyzed.

The one thing Faye was learning in her young life was… tears meant something was wrong.  Pain.  When she cried… it was the end of the world, until it was alright again.

She decided she would try to clean Grandma Alma’s kitchen floor.  She was just a little girl… she’d seen how it was done… Faye was the sort of little girl who watched, learned… then, she’d do the best she could.

Sometimes, it wasn’t the best… but, it didn’t seem to be the worst, either.  She always learned the hard way… doing it wrong until it was right.  Learning the hard way was bad… she kept on …until she learned right.

Sometimes, when she heard someone wish something… if at all in her little girl power… she’d try to do without saying anything… then, call someone to look, so… they’d be surprised; happy.

Truthfully, sometimes, the surprise would be on her… someone wouldn’t care at all… it made no difference.  What she went to such trouble to do, just wasn’t appreciated at all.  She’d just hold her little head down in disappointment, go her way.  No one would know how hard she’d tried… to please… them.

Finally, the mess loosened, let go.  The little hand took an old rag, wiped it away.  She got up, went to the trash can, shook the hardened, black material in.  She’d heard her mama say, ‘if you are going to clean something, then… clean it good’.

She had a bucket full of very warm water, sudsy water.  The scent from the water was… CLEAN.  Lots of stuff was in the water to make it smell good… a lot… was needed.

The little girl had been taught to mix Clorox, Pine Sol and whatever else was needed… into the cleaning water.  Never mind one should never do that.  This little girl didn’t know the difference.  She just remembered… watching.  She did the best she knew how.

One thing this little girl, and her first cousins who were around the same age, knew how to do… was to try to clean the dirty clean.

They were taught, made to do it.  Each would grow up to be a good housekeeper… dirty things would drive each… crazy, until it was scrubbed clean… until the dirty was clean.

In Hell, things were very dirty… as each person came through there, it was up to them to… clean the dirty… if anyone ever did.  It looked like no one… ever did.  Maybe because many were small children who had no concept of how to clean the dirty.

She stopped for a moment, began looking around, while she sat cross-legged on the old, white, tile floor.  The tile felt cool to the backs of her legs.  She wore a dress… she always wore dresses.

The only difference was… now… her dresses were worn, not the cleanest, old.  Her clothes was washed by … a blind man.  George.

He was the only grandfather she ever knew… she loved him.  He was loud; as loud as his voice was, his hand was just as gentle to a little child.  She loved George.  She loved George, and Grandma Alma.  She didn’t know they didn’t have anything; were poor; lived in Hell.  Everything in her young mind… ‘just was’.

George cleaned all the time.  He washed dishes.  George cooked, made biscuits, baked.  He made coffee in the percolator.  George used an old wringer-type washing machine to wash clothes… run the clothes through the wringer, piece by piece.  He’d rinse them the same way; gather them up in a basket, go to the clothesline outside, hang them up.  He would put clothes pins in his mouth as he used one by one.

She would watch him, wonder how he did that.  Could he really see, and just not tell anyone he could see.  She swore he could see everything… he knew everything.  He never knew it… sometimes, when she was held by him on his lap… she’d put her little hand up to his face.  He never saw it… he never blinked.

Her little hands scrubbed the corner clean… it wasn’t perfect, but… at least… she’d cleaned the dirty clean.

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