Above the Village, Inside the Walls, A-Top the Hill
Gabriel with the girls, Gaia and Carys, received their Italian citizenship some months ago. Wednesday, August 7, 2013 Lydia's paperwork had finally made the trip from Rome to Torino. She and they are all four bonified citizens of Italy. His for Argentina and Italy, her the USA and Italy. After the swearing in ceremony, we had the little cakes and coffee I wrote about. Before we left City Hall, the Mayor invited the Girls, with the adults, to come Thursday evening to their house for a swim in their indoor pool.
We drove the somewhat circular streets up the hill behind Lydia's apartment. Up the incline beside the high wall, ...finally Gabriel called, "Which house?" We were on the correct street and the Mayor had come out to wave us in to the proper gate. First we met her husband, Umberto, a paint manufacturer. The buildings of their house are very old. They bought them ten years ago. The rundown condition required five years of repairs. Now it is in a beautiful state and they have lived there these last five years.
After a tour of the property, we went to the bath house, indoor and underground, with a ceiling of bricks. There was, of course, a bath room for changing, a shower room for getting wet, the pool for swimming and finally the hot, jacuzzi tub relaxation. I wondered if this might be something like one would have experienced in the "baths" of ancient Rome?
We had exited the house through the family dining and living area. It seemed to be something we might call a breezeway. But there were no screens, only glass doors and windows. We entered a beautifully landscaped back yard. There were wide borders filled with a variety of scrubs and flowering plants around the plots of lawn. Straight out the dining doors one looked across the lawn to a pond of Koi fish with fascinating decor. Behind the pond rose a crescent brick wall with stairs on either side, leading to a trysting place of lawn and shade above the lower yard.
Back on the main lawn level, to either side of the pond, but a distance away so a sidewalk could cross to the stairs, were two olive trees. They were imported from Spain four years ago. The one on the right is 700 years old. The one on the left is 1,000 years old. They appear in very good condition. After settling into their new environment, this year they are producing a few olives. They are expected to come to full production in the next few years.
Out the dining door we took the path to the right beside the 700 year old olive tree. As the sidewalk left the yard, the bath house was on our left and a brick wall on the right overlooking another 20 by 30 foot courtyard, facing the street with it's iron gate closed and locked. The small, three story house to the right is the oldest existing building. It was built in 400 a.d.
After the swim, we returned to the dining room for supper. The Mayor served what I think would be six courses: first was a plate of prosciutto as well as another pork sausage, second was a plate of pealed and sliced tomato with balls of mozzarella cheese, third was an offering of chopped raw beef, not bad, I have to say with plenty of salt and black pepper, forth came a platter of rolled and sliced pork, fifth was the dessert, peach pie, good and different than we've known, then finally a round of small coffees.
The surroundings were beautiful, the conversation was very good, the food so delicious, the older couple so hospitable and interestingly knowledgeable of their world. To top it off, a great thunder storm came and poured rain. The rain came through the joints of the windows where the glass meets wood. It came through the joints where wood meets wood. Where it should have been putted, the rain came in. It was very strange to sit at the table, then stand by the window watching water pouring through places that should have been tight against leaking. The Mayor brought table cloths, bedding and other absorbent fabrics to gather up water running across her ceramic tile floors.
There are three Churches on the hill next to the house and other houses. The Churches are two side by side and one across the street. One was built in the 1300's and belongs to the Villa Family, the first rulers of the village. The next was erected in 1640 through the early 1700's. The newest was built in the 1800's. As I have mentioned before, their bells keep ringing out the time of the day or night, the Ave Maria at three, five and seven, when the faithful die and when the new are born.
Through the entire evening, it was not the thunder and lightening or the pouring rain, it was not the interruption of changing bells, it was the introduction of new foods from old cuisines, the sound of very old dialects spoken as music to uncomprehending ears, the joy of laughter between old men and children, the joy of spoken words having meaning in two or three languages all at the same meal. That was a night to remember.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
NOW WE ARE ITALIAN: WELL, NOT ALL
It's Strange How the Bureaucracy Works
In the summer of 1996, Lydia came to Austria to "perfect her voice", as they say. Two weeks before she left the States, she received a contract to sing in an opera in Germany, following the weeks in Salzburg. After the Opera, in October she auditioned with Maestro Battaglia for voice lessons in Italy. Those began early in November. She came home for Christmas. Early in 1997 she was back to lessons in Torino.
After two years, Gabriel came to study with Maestro Battaglia, also. In August 2001, they were married in our little country Church at North Grove, in northern Illinois. It was a beautiful setting and a beautiful day. The building was full to the back wall with overflow chairs. Gabriel's parents, his brother, Willie, and their Aunt Chloe had come from Argentina. I gave the service in English, my brother Paul, missionary to Honduras, gave the service in Spanish.
After the groom kissed his bride, the wedding party went around the aisles of the Church to the tune of "When the Saints Go Marching In." The reception line formed on the front porch of the Church where the guest greeted the wedding party and continued on to the sit-down meal in the beautiful white tent provided by the Congregation, in the Church yard.
The young couple soon returned to Italy where Lydia had an apartment in the Center of Torino. After a couple years they began hunting a more roomy abode. The one they settled on was in the village, eighteen or twenty miles out of the city. Theirs is the end apartment next to the alley-sized one way street, in an old brick building put up in the 1500's. It might be three hundred feet long, three stories high and probably holds 8 to 12 apparments. It has something of a curve in it's length as it snugs against a low hill at the back. An ally / street behind is supported by a 20 or 25 foot retaining wall. There are two or three of those retainer walls with houses and streets ascending to the top of the hill where 3 or 4 very old Churches, built during the 1300's, stand side by side, ringing their loud bells every hour and every half hour day and night, month after month, year after year.
The Village was incorporated in the year 999 a.d. People had already been living on these hill for a long, long time before 999 a.d. I was here once in 2010, when the owner of the clothing store told me he was on the village board and the year before, 2009, they had a great celebration of the 1,000th Birthday of their village.
Because there are limitations in living in only one country of Europe, because most of Lydia's work in in Germany, because it might be better to move to the country where one works and many other "becauses", and because both Argentina and the USA will allow dual citizenship with Italy, it just seemed reasonable for them to seek that avenue. After eighteen months of waiting for paper work to be processed, finally they were notified the time was drawing nearer. Then word came that Rome was sending the proper papers to Torino. After trips of eighteen or so miles each way, the papers were ready to be sent to the City Hall, so the swearing in could take place,
The great day came. The family joyfully ascended the stairs to the court of Madame, the Mayor. Oops! The papers had been separated from those of her family. Not to worry. Swear in Gaby and the Girls and wait for Rome to send Lydia's. After the ceremony, to the surprise of the Mayor and her staff, Lydia brought out her offering of beautiful and flavorful cupcakes. Afterward the party retired to the coffee bar across the street.
Weeks have passed and now, yesterday we all went down town to the Passport office to collect Carys, Gaia and Gabriel's Passports. Today we attended Lydia as she went to the Village Hall and was sworn-in as a citizen of Italy by Madame, the Mayor. Gabriel phoned across the street and ordered coffees, Lydia had bought beautiful little cookies.
Lydia and the Mayor stood at the head of the court room, we all stood watching and listening, while Madame the Mayor very rapidly read the 2 or 3 or 4 very long pages, just to announce that the Family now truly have an Italian branch.
It has been an exciting and beautiful day. Mom would have been proud.
In the summer of 1996, Lydia came to Austria to "perfect her voice", as they say. Two weeks before she left the States, she received a contract to sing in an opera in Germany, following the weeks in Salzburg. After the Opera, in October she auditioned with Maestro Battaglia for voice lessons in Italy. Those began early in November. She came home for Christmas. Early in 1997 she was back to lessons in Torino.
After two years, Gabriel came to study with Maestro Battaglia, also. In August 2001, they were married in our little country Church at North Grove, in northern Illinois. It was a beautiful setting and a beautiful day. The building was full to the back wall with overflow chairs. Gabriel's parents, his brother, Willie, and their Aunt Chloe had come from Argentina. I gave the service in English, my brother Paul, missionary to Honduras, gave the service in Spanish.
After the groom kissed his bride, the wedding party went around the aisles of the Church to the tune of "When the Saints Go Marching In." The reception line formed on the front porch of the Church where the guest greeted the wedding party and continued on to the sit-down meal in the beautiful white tent provided by the Congregation, in the Church yard.
The young couple soon returned to Italy where Lydia had an apartment in the Center of Torino. After a couple years they began hunting a more roomy abode. The one they settled on was in the village, eighteen or twenty miles out of the city. Theirs is the end apartment next to the alley-sized one way street, in an old brick building put up in the 1500's. It might be three hundred feet long, three stories high and probably holds 8 to 12 apparments. It has something of a curve in it's length as it snugs against a low hill at the back. An ally / street behind is supported by a 20 or 25 foot retaining wall. There are two or three of those retainer walls with houses and streets ascending to the top of the hill where 3 or 4 very old Churches, built during the 1300's, stand side by side, ringing their loud bells every hour and every half hour day and night, month after month, year after year.
The Village was incorporated in the year 999 a.d. People had already been living on these hill for a long, long time before 999 a.d. I was here once in 2010, when the owner of the clothing store told me he was on the village board and the year before, 2009, they had a great celebration of the 1,000th Birthday of their village.
Because there are limitations in living in only one country of Europe, because most of Lydia's work in in Germany, because it might be better to move to the country where one works and many other "becauses", and because both Argentina and the USA will allow dual citizenship with Italy, it just seemed reasonable for them to seek that avenue. After eighteen months of waiting for paper work to be processed, finally they were notified the time was drawing nearer. Then word came that Rome was sending the proper papers to Torino. After trips of eighteen or so miles each way, the papers were ready to be sent to the City Hall, so the swearing in could take place,
The great day came. The family joyfully ascended the stairs to the court of Madame, the Mayor. Oops! The papers had been separated from those of her family. Not to worry. Swear in Gaby and the Girls and wait for Rome to send Lydia's. After the ceremony, to the surprise of the Mayor and her staff, Lydia brought out her offering of beautiful and flavorful cupcakes. Afterward the party retired to the coffee bar across the street.
Weeks have passed and now, yesterday we all went down town to the Passport office to collect Carys, Gaia and Gabriel's Passports. Today we attended Lydia as she went to the Village Hall and was sworn-in as a citizen of Italy by Madame, the Mayor. Gabriel phoned across the street and ordered coffees, Lydia had bought beautiful little cookies.
Lydia and the Mayor stood at the head of the court room, we all stood watching and listening, while Madame the Mayor very rapidly read the 2 or 3 or 4 very long pages, just to announce that the Family now truly have an Italian branch.
It has been an exciting and beautiful day. Mom would have been proud.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
TEDDY JOE SHEEHAN: TEENAGE FARMER
You Might not Know What's in a Man 'Till You See It Working Out
He was the young farmer who moved onto the farm down the road from us and up the hill to the west. The farm was on the left. I actually didn't know either Teddy Joe or Verna Mae very well. He grew up with his mother in Olustee, OK. He and Verna Mae were married when he was eighteen. Mr. Jones was her dad. He helped them to get the farm. The Jones' lived in Eldorado. Verna Mae was Phyllis Walker's younger sister. Phyllis was, and still is, married to Senior Walker, Mother's cousin.
Teddy Joe might have worked on a farm some time in his young life while living in Olustee. I really don't know about that. The part I do know about, has to do with the farm and the farmer. It must have been 320 acres or less. That means it was a mile long and more or less a half mile wide. The east end of his fence line started at the red house on our place where our road crossed the two bridges over Squaw Creek. The road and his fence went along together to the bluff, up the twisty road and on across past Tatar Mountain to the west. After a few rods it crossed the north - south road from the river bluffs up past Granny and Papa's.
I only remember that he grew cotton. There were a couple of small fields to the east below the bluff. There was pasture on the side and top of the bluff, along the top of the river bluff beside Red River and on the west end of the property where the natural bridge crosses the gully going into the river. The farm land was along the road, from Tatar Mountain on the west to the milk barn and house on the east.
Teddy Joe's father-in-law bought him ten good Holstein milk cows. They give lots of milk and he had never milked or at the least, very little. He was out there milking by hand at sunrise every morning. He finished milking about noon. He had a few hours off and then Then it was time to start over again. In the mean time he was tilling land and putting in a crop.
The amazing thing: we never saw a weed in his fence rows. I've picked cotton in his fields and never came to a weed. We didn't have weed killers in those years. We all wondered and said, "How did he do it." Early and late must have been his secret.
A few times when I got home from school and Mother with the girls wasn't there, maybe Daddy was somewhere in the field or working around the neighborhood, I'd walk to Teddy Joe and Verna Mae's house. When the folks got home they'd call to see, if I was there. Daddy always scolded me for "running away" when he came to pick me up. I knew to start the chores. Then once when I went over there after school, Daddy was plowing in the field, I knew he was there, but went on anyway. When he came to the house and was ready to start chores, he called Teddy Joe and told him to have me walk home. Teddy offered to bring me. Daddy said NO. The sun was down and dusk was setting in pretty heavy. I never "ran away" again.
Those years must have been in the mid 1940's. By 1950 we had torn down Grandpa's old house and were building the new one. By the time the new house was about half finished Teddy Joe's house was setting empty. We had moved into the west side of the dairy barn when the old house was coming down. But now Teddy Joe and Verna Mae had moved away, so we rented their house and lived there a few months until ours was ready to occupy.
I'm not sure when or where they moved. I did hear that he wanted to become a Meteorologist, and did. He came to Granny's funeral about 1988 and I met him at the cemetery. It was so good to see him again. He died later. I don't know any more of the story.
I just know a young farmer made an impact on a young school boys life and I am so very grateful!
He was the young farmer who moved onto the farm down the road from us and up the hill to the west. The farm was on the left. I actually didn't know either Teddy Joe or Verna Mae very well. He grew up with his mother in Olustee, OK. He and Verna Mae were married when he was eighteen. Mr. Jones was her dad. He helped them to get the farm. The Jones' lived in Eldorado. Verna Mae was Phyllis Walker's younger sister. Phyllis was, and still is, married to Senior Walker, Mother's cousin.
Teddy Joe might have worked on a farm some time in his young life while living in Olustee. I really don't know about that. The part I do know about, has to do with the farm and the farmer. It must have been 320 acres or less. That means it was a mile long and more or less a half mile wide. The east end of his fence line started at the red house on our place where our road crossed the two bridges over Squaw Creek. The road and his fence went along together to the bluff, up the twisty road and on across past Tatar Mountain to the west. After a few rods it crossed the north - south road from the river bluffs up past Granny and Papa's.
I only remember that he grew cotton. There were a couple of small fields to the east below the bluff. There was pasture on the side and top of the bluff, along the top of the river bluff beside Red River and on the west end of the property where the natural bridge crosses the gully going into the river. The farm land was along the road, from Tatar Mountain on the west to the milk barn and house on the east.
Teddy Joe's father-in-law bought him ten good Holstein milk cows. They give lots of milk and he had never milked or at the least, very little. He was out there milking by hand at sunrise every morning. He finished milking about noon. He had a few hours off and then Then it was time to start over again. In the mean time he was tilling land and putting in a crop.
The amazing thing: we never saw a weed in his fence rows. I've picked cotton in his fields and never came to a weed. We didn't have weed killers in those years. We all wondered and said, "How did he do it." Early and late must have been his secret.
A few times when I got home from school and Mother with the girls wasn't there, maybe Daddy was somewhere in the field or working around the neighborhood, I'd walk to Teddy Joe and Verna Mae's house. When the folks got home they'd call to see, if I was there. Daddy always scolded me for "running away" when he came to pick me up. I knew to start the chores. Then once when I went over there after school, Daddy was plowing in the field, I knew he was there, but went on anyway. When he came to the house and was ready to start chores, he called Teddy Joe and told him to have me walk home. Teddy offered to bring me. Daddy said NO. The sun was down and dusk was setting in pretty heavy. I never "ran away" again.
Those years must have been in the mid 1940's. By 1950 we had torn down Grandpa's old house and were building the new one. By the time the new house was about half finished Teddy Joe's house was setting empty. We had moved into the west side of the dairy barn when the old house was coming down. But now Teddy Joe and Verna Mae had moved away, so we rented their house and lived there a few months until ours was ready to occupy.
I'm not sure when or where they moved. I did hear that he wanted to become a Meteorologist, and did. He came to Granny's funeral about 1988 and I met him at the cemetery. It was so good to see him again. He died later. I don't know any more of the story.
I just know a young farmer made an impact on a young school boys life and I am so very grateful!
Monday, August 5, 2013
AUGUST 5: NOT QUIT COTTON PICKIN' TIME
This Is Linda's Birthday and I and We All Wish Her the Very Best
When Daddy took us, Donnie, Pallie and Me to see our new baby sister with Mother at Dr. Crow's clinic in Olustee, the first thing I noticed were how cute her ears were. I don't remember noticing other baby ears before that time. And I generally still don't pay much attention to them now. Anyway we were glad to add Linda Kay to our growing crowd of farm hands.
When Linda got old enough to crawl, she didn't. She sat up on her bottom and pushed herself across the floor with her right hand. When she finally reached fifteen month of age, she evidently decided to look at things from a higher perspective. One night Mother and I thought she should learn to walk. Donnie and Pallie were there as the cheering section. Mother held Linda up and I was very close in front of her coaching her along. She came to me, then wanted to turn around and go back. So we played that game together for quit a while. I stepped back a step each time. We all began to laugh. And Linda began to laugh. We all started laughing and laughing. That was the night Daddy came home from one of his sheep shearing runs. (I'm not sure how to justify this part, because Daddy's shearing trips were in the spring and this puts him coming sometime in the fall. Maybe some of the family can help clear it up.)
Cotton picking generally started about mid September. School let out for four to six weeks for kids to work in the fields. And goodness, NO, we didn't have homework. So school almost always began during the first week of August.
Mother and Aunt Bonnie were top cotton pickers. Even after Mother was having her family, I remember her picking cotton as she dragged her sack down the row with Donnie and Pallie, one year and two years old, riding on her sack.
The women of our family have always been hard workers, in the house or in the field. Where help was needed, they were there. On several occasions Mother put on her overalls and helped with grinding feed bundles for the cattle. She milked cows by hand before we got the electric milkers and even then she was in the barn or not far away. The girls milked cows, too.
By the time Linda was old enough, she had the joy of pulling cotton beside the rest of us. Soon she was pulling faster than Donnie, Pallie or I. If she was pulling in the row next to you, she'd be pulling off your row and getting ahead as well. That gave her a real advantage back at the wagon when we weighed up on the scale. And it was also a real big disadvantage for the rest of us at the end of the day when Daddy figured up our weight production. OUCH!!! Big time!!!
We all worked to make the farm go. I don't remember Daddy ever having just one job. There were always the multitude of chores and jobs on the farm and then he almost always had custom work for neighbor farmers or carpentry jobs somewhere.
Today in my Bible reading, one of my chapters was Psalm 5. I thought it might be fitting to share on this special day. There are twelve verses in the Psalm. I focused on the first three. The title of the Psalm is: Prayer for Protection from the Wicked. It is written For the choir director for flute accompaniment. A PSALM OF DAVID.
v. 1 -- Listen: "Give ear to my words,..."
v. 2 -- Pay Attention: "Heed the sound of my cry..."
v. 3 -- The Lord Will Be There in the Morning: "In the morning, O LORD, Thou wilt hear my voice..."
NOTICE: It's a matter of confident calling on my / our part.
It's a matter of clearly expressing our heart's cry with our own words.
It's a matter, not of wondering, hoping, assuming, or wishing, but of confident faith that today, this very morning the Living Lord God Almighty has listened and paid attention to my very deep and earnest heart cry. The hard part may be our waiting for the fulfillment of His will.
v. 11 -- Sing with joy and gladness because He is our refuge and shelter.
Because you love His name, He will exalt you.
v.12 -- A righteous man or woman or youth or child will be blessed by God and will be
surrounded by His favor as with a shield.
When Daddy took us, Donnie, Pallie and Me to see our new baby sister with Mother at Dr. Crow's clinic in Olustee, the first thing I noticed were how cute her ears were. I don't remember noticing other baby ears before that time. And I generally still don't pay much attention to them now. Anyway we were glad to add Linda Kay to our growing crowd of farm hands.
When Linda got old enough to crawl, she didn't. She sat up on her bottom and pushed herself across the floor with her right hand. When she finally reached fifteen month of age, she evidently decided to look at things from a higher perspective. One night Mother and I thought she should learn to walk. Donnie and Pallie were there as the cheering section. Mother held Linda up and I was very close in front of her coaching her along. She came to me, then wanted to turn around and go back. So we played that game together for quit a while. I stepped back a step each time. We all began to laugh. And Linda began to laugh. We all started laughing and laughing. That was the night Daddy came home from one of his sheep shearing runs. (I'm not sure how to justify this part, because Daddy's shearing trips were in the spring and this puts him coming sometime in the fall. Maybe some of the family can help clear it up.)
Cotton picking generally started about mid September. School let out for four to six weeks for kids to work in the fields. And goodness, NO, we didn't have homework. So school almost always began during the first week of August.
Mother and Aunt Bonnie were top cotton pickers. Even after Mother was having her family, I remember her picking cotton as she dragged her sack down the row with Donnie and Pallie, one year and two years old, riding on her sack.
The women of our family have always been hard workers, in the house or in the field. Where help was needed, they were there. On several occasions Mother put on her overalls and helped with grinding feed bundles for the cattle. She milked cows by hand before we got the electric milkers and even then she was in the barn or not far away. The girls milked cows, too.
By the time Linda was old enough, she had the joy of pulling cotton beside the rest of us. Soon she was pulling faster than Donnie, Pallie or I. If she was pulling in the row next to you, she'd be pulling off your row and getting ahead as well. That gave her a real advantage back at the wagon when we weighed up on the scale. And it was also a real big disadvantage for the rest of us at the end of the day when Daddy figured up our weight production. OUCH!!! Big time!!!
We all worked to make the farm go. I don't remember Daddy ever having just one job. There were always the multitude of chores and jobs on the farm and then he almost always had custom work for neighbor farmers or carpentry jobs somewhere.
Today in my Bible reading, one of my chapters was Psalm 5. I thought it might be fitting to share on this special day. There are twelve verses in the Psalm. I focused on the first three. The title of the Psalm is: Prayer for Protection from the Wicked. It is written For the choir director for flute accompaniment. A PSALM OF DAVID.
v. 1 -- Listen: "Give ear to my words,..."
v. 2 -- Pay Attention: "Heed the sound of my cry..."
v. 3 -- The Lord Will Be There in the Morning: "In the morning, O LORD, Thou wilt hear my voice..."
NOTICE: It's a matter of confident calling on my / our part.
It's a matter of clearly expressing our heart's cry with our own words.
It's a matter, not of wondering, hoping, assuming, or wishing, but of confident faith that today, this very morning the Living Lord God Almighty has listened and paid attention to my very deep and earnest heart cry. The hard part may be our waiting for the fulfillment of His will.
v. 11 -- Sing with joy and gladness because He is our refuge and shelter.
Because you love His name, He will exalt you.
v.12 -- A righteous man or woman or youth or child will be blessed by God and will be
surrounded by His favor as with a shield.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
THE LAKE AT ANNECY, FRANCE
It Has to Be the Most Beautiful Lake I Have Ever Seen
I arrived in Germany and then on the same day on Italy on July 19, 2013. It was a good flight. Lydia, Gabriel, Gaia and Carys were all waiting for me at the gate. What a beautiful sight! We were here, at their home in Andezanno for some days: getting me over the "jet lag," shopping, Church at the English Speaking Church of Torino on Sunday, primping and pampering Butter Cup, getting her properly designated with the State to travel the roads of Europe, then packing her up, hitching her on and heading out for a wonderful campground near the old and beautiful City of Annecy.
Butter Cup is the name of Lydia and Gabriel's 1976 small camper. She's been well cared for through the years by previous owners. Her new owners are the best yet. We put my tent inside, loaded up everybody's gear and headed through the mountains. The Alp Mountains turn south, more or less, at the west end of Switzerland and head for the sea between Italy and France. Praise the Lord for money and engineers who were willing and had the insight to push the many tunnels through the bottom of the thousands of feet high mountains.
All in about four or five hours Gabriel had driven the car pulling Butter Cup to the wonderful campground. Our parking, camp site was nearest the shower house as possible. There were already dozens of campers and more arrived ever day. The month of August is vacation month in Europe. Some years ago an old couple, maybe not so old then, turned their farm into this campground. It's really a beautiful location. It sets in the middle of a valley, about midway between mountains. They range between 1600 and 2000 feet in height. The valley might be a mile wide and a couple miles wide.
Around the area of the camp site, beyond the borders of the farm, are a couple or three small French housing settlements. Those are all so beautiful in their very old architecture.
About every other day of the week we drove into Annecy. I'll guess the lake to be thirty miles long and a half-mile or less wide. The water seems more blue than the sky. It is said to be the cleanest lake in France, and very easy to see the bottom in most places out from shore.
Because it is vacation time, there are all kinds of festive atmosphere. Tonight they were having their annual fireworks displays. It must have been a sight to behold. We needed to come away and be back in Torino tonight, so we missed it. As we walked beside the lake, we could see the electric lines and lights, etc., all floating in the planned shore side. There were huge grandstands and lake side chairs set, 20 in a row, 5 rows deep and there must have been three or four blocks of those chairs. We heard that the price for the chairs ran from 10 € to 50 € each.
Thursday we drove to the town of Thones, pronounced "Tone." They were having daytime play grounds in the streets. A couple blocks had been closed: the most strange bicycles were circling round being ridden by young and old, wooden games from ancient times were attempted by all ages, and there was the four seat Ferris Wheel. The only metal part was the axle through the middle. Two people helped with the loading of the seats, which were very much like our porch swings. Two men stood on a platform, one on each side, to assist in turning the wheel. There was no motor. Children and or adults all rode together. To stabilize balance, they added a bag of sand for weight, if necessary. Once the new seats of riders were safely seated and balanced, the wheel turned pretty much by perpetual motion, with only a nudge now and again.
Yesterday afternoon following a shopping trip to town, we visited the Menthon Castle. It's owners have maintained it for centuries. This is renowned for St. Bernard, who was born there in 1008 and became famous for the hospitals he started throughout the Alps and the St. Bernard dogs he developed to help with the rescue of injured and lost travelers.
I arrived in Germany and then on the same day on Italy on July 19, 2013. It was a good flight. Lydia, Gabriel, Gaia and Carys were all waiting for me at the gate. What a beautiful sight! We were here, at their home in Andezanno for some days: getting me over the "jet lag," shopping, Church at the English Speaking Church of Torino on Sunday, primping and pampering Butter Cup, getting her properly designated with the State to travel the roads of Europe, then packing her up, hitching her on and heading out for a wonderful campground near the old and beautiful City of Annecy.
Butter Cup is the name of Lydia and Gabriel's 1976 small camper. She's been well cared for through the years by previous owners. Her new owners are the best yet. We put my tent inside, loaded up everybody's gear and headed through the mountains. The Alp Mountains turn south, more or less, at the west end of Switzerland and head for the sea between Italy and France. Praise the Lord for money and engineers who were willing and had the insight to push the many tunnels through the bottom of the thousands of feet high mountains.
All in about four or five hours Gabriel had driven the car pulling Butter Cup to the wonderful campground. Our parking, camp site was nearest the shower house as possible. There were already dozens of campers and more arrived ever day. The month of August is vacation month in Europe. Some years ago an old couple, maybe not so old then, turned their farm into this campground. It's really a beautiful location. It sets in the middle of a valley, about midway between mountains. They range between 1600 and 2000 feet in height. The valley might be a mile wide and a couple miles wide.
Around the area of the camp site, beyond the borders of the farm, are a couple or three small French housing settlements. Those are all so beautiful in their very old architecture.
About every other day of the week we drove into Annecy. I'll guess the lake to be thirty miles long and a half-mile or less wide. The water seems more blue than the sky. It is said to be the cleanest lake in France, and very easy to see the bottom in most places out from shore.
Because it is vacation time, there are all kinds of festive atmosphere. Tonight they were having their annual fireworks displays. It must have been a sight to behold. We needed to come away and be back in Torino tonight, so we missed it. As we walked beside the lake, we could see the electric lines and lights, etc., all floating in the planned shore side. There were huge grandstands and lake side chairs set, 20 in a row, 5 rows deep and there must have been three or four blocks of those chairs. We heard that the price for the chairs ran from 10 € to 50 € each.
Thursday we drove to the town of Thones, pronounced "Tone." They were having daytime play grounds in the streets. A couple blocks had been closed: the most strange bicycles were circling round being ridden by young and old, wooden games from ancient times were attempted by all ages, and there was the four seat Ferris Wheel. The only metal part was the axle through the middle. Two people helped with the loading of the seats, which were very much like our porch swings. Two men stood on a platform, one on each side, to assist in turning the wheel. There was no motor. Children and or adults all rode together. To stabilize balance, they added a bag of sand for weight, if necessary. Once the new seats of riders were safely seated and balanced, the wheel turned pretty much by perpetual motion, with only a nudge now and again.
Yesterday afternoon following a shopping trip to town, we visited the Menthon Castle. It's owners have maintained it for centuries. This is renowned for St. Bernard, who was born there in 1008 and became famous for the hospitals he started throughout the Alps and the St. Bernard dogs he developed to help with the rescue of injured and lost travelers.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
THE LORD CALLED ME TO PREACH
The Lord's Call May Be different from One Person to Another
After Reunion on that Sunday, July 7, 2013, as all segments of the family were saying their last good-bys, Jeremy ask me, "Dad, I'd like to hear your story about your "Exhorters License." In November 1951, our family had been driving to Quanah, Texas to attend some of the services of a Revival Meeting at the Church of the Nazarene. The pastor and his family, the Calhouns, had been our friends for many years. The evangelist, Rev. Joe Norton, was pastor at the Ryan, Oklahoma Church of the Nazarene, when we first met him. Any time we could meet with any of them, it was like having a great reunion. There was a lot of coordnation that needed to happen for us to make the tirp. We had to get home from school, and or finish the days work, the do the evening chores. That meant bring up the cows, do the milking, have supper, clean up and get dressed., then drive the eight miles to Eldorado and cross the Red River to Quanah, thirteen more miles.
At the close of the Service that night, Brother Norton gave an opportunity for anyone to pray at the Altar Bench. I had already given my heart to Jesus in August, 1948. So I wasn't sure why the urge to pray, but went forward and soon felt a clear call to the Christian Ministry of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
When I was seven years old, I remember asking Mother, "How does a person know if he should become a preacher?" She suggested I ask Uncle Elbert. He was her second brother and just younger than she. I let it go, and never asked him.
There have been several preachers in the background of our family, but the closest I knew of in those years, (execpt Uncle Elbert) was Uncle Abe Tucker, Granny's brother-in-law. And that was before I was ever born. He preached a Revival Meeting at the Midway School in the Summer that Mother was 17. I don't know if she had been attending the services, but on a day of that week, as she swept the floor, the Holy Spirit spoke to her heart and whispered, "Why don't you let Me sweep the sin out of your heart, like you sweep out the dirt from the room?" She said, "At that moment I determined to go to the meeting that night and surrender my life to Him."
A few years ago Uncle Elbert with others and I were at Pallie and Darrell's for several days. He told some of his story. After Mother gave her heart to the Lord, she gently urged him to give his heart to the Lord. I don't remember when he did. What I do remember was this: In the summer of 1939 there had been another Revival Meeting at the Midway School. On Sunday night, after the last service of the Revival, the pastor announced that he didn't feel right about closing the meetings. He ask the men of the Congregation to come the next morning at 10am for prayer.
Uncle Elbert was at that service and told me about it. His birthday was June 26, 1920. Mother Shumaker had given him a new pocket watch for his birthday. He said, "I don't know how she ever had enough money to buy the watch." On Monday morning, following that call to prayer, Uncle Elbert was alone in the cotton patch west of their house chopping cotton. He stopped for a moment to rest and wondered about the time. He took out his new "watch that Mama gave me" and saw that it was 10:00am. He remembered the pastor's announcement and knew the men were there to pray. He said, "At that instant I heard the Lord call me to preach."
He argured that he couldn't preach. He said he would be a good Christian man. He promised to follow the Lord all his life. He offered to be the best tithing man in the congregation. He pled to be the greatest Sunday School Superintendent the place had ever seen. But for all his resisting of the call, the Lord wouldn't let him go. Finally, he gave up.
He couldn't read well. He always had trouble with math. He still had the twelth grade to attend that fall and finish in the spring. He didn't know how to preach or how to start. He didn't have any money and his family didn't have any either. From his point of view, it was a hopeless prospect. But he believed in God and believed in prayer. He began the pastorate of his first Church in 1943. He did retire after many years, but has continued to be called on for funerals, weddings, and pastoral supply. He has preached more than 500 funeral services and this summer had his 93 birthday.
Twenty-five years after that day in the cotton patch, he received a letter from Uncle Everett Davis. The letter said: "Elbert, I never told you, and wanted you to know. On that Monday morning in the Pastor's call to prayer, at 10:00am. I asked God to call you to preach." I don't know what his response was to Uncle Everett. I do know that when Uncle Everett and Aunt Pearl's son, A. Y. Davis, was lost in action during WW II, Uncle Elbert officiated when they held the Memorial Service at the High Point Methodist Church.
A rattlesnake struck Donnie about the middle of her calf on her left leg. I think that was May 18, 1948. After our Parents left taking her to Dr. Crow in Olustee, I lay with my face in the back of the couch and promised God, if He would save her life, I would give my life to him. He did and I did. The Methodist Church in Eldorado was having a Revival Meeting in August that year. Our family was attending most of the services that week. One night when the Evangelist gave the altar call, I responded. That night at age eleven, I went forward, knelt at the mourners bench and gave my heart and life to the Lord.
Brother Staught was Pastor of our Church at High Point. Soon after he came, he asked if anyone had been saved since the last pastor left and was in need of baptism. I raised my hand. There were others and I suppose the timing was a factor, because a group of older persons were baptized in a farm pond belonging to one of the Freeman's soon after that, about a mile east of the Church. I remember Midge Richie as one of the adult persons being baptized. Later in the summer, my cousin Milton Shumaker and I were baptized in Custer Freeman's farm pond.
After Brother Staught was transfered, Brother Ray Altaffer was our next pastor. It was during his pastorate that I received my call to preach. One Sunday morning, May 18, 1952, he called me to the front and from the side of the pulpit he gave to me An Exhorter's License. At age 15, I was now authorized to Exhort on the truths of the Word of God. There have been other licenseings along the way.
The long road from that day to this went by just one day at a time. Some times the day seemed to be as long as a year and some years have seemed to pass as quickly as a day. There have been days of sadness, but over all, I must say the whole journey has been filled with very rich gladness. I have not stood in the pulpit every Sunday, but I have been faithful to the calling of God to proclaim His word as opportunity afforded through these 61 years. And He has been my most faithful Shepherd, Heavenly Father and constantly abiding Holy Spirit. I give all praise to Him!
After Reunion on that Sunday, July 7, 2013, as all segments of the family were saying their last good-bys, Jeremy ask me, "Dad, I'd like to hear your story about your "Exhorters License." In November 1951, our family had been driving to Quanah, Texas to attend some of the services of a Revival Meeting at the Church of the Nazarene. The pastor and his family, the Calhouns, had been our friends for many years. The evangelist, Rev. Joe Norton, was pastor at the Ryan, Oklahoma Church of the Nazarene, when we first met him. Any time we could meet with any of them, it was like having a great reunion. There was a lot of coordnation that needed to happen for us to make the tirp. We had to get home from school, and or finish the days work, the do the evening chores. That meant bring up the cows, do the milking, have supper, clean up and get dressed., then drive the eight miles to Eldorado and cross the Red River to Quanah, thirteen more miles.
At the close of the Service that night, Brother Norton gave an opportunity for anyone to pray at the Altar Bench. I had already given my heart to Jesus in August, 1948. So I wasn't sure why the urge to pray, but went forward and soon felt a clear call to the Christian Ministry of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
When I was seven years old, I remember asking Mother, "How does a person know if he should become a preacher?" She suggested I ask Uncle Elbert. He was her second brother and just younger than she. I let it go, and never asked him.
There have been several preachers in the background of our family, but the closest I knew of in those years, (execpt Uncle Elbert) was Uncle Abe Tucker, Granny's brother-in-law. And that was before I was ever born. He preached a Revival Meeting at the Midway School in the Summer that Mother was 17. I don't know if she had been attending the services, but on a day of that week, as she swept the floor, the Holy Spirit spoke to her heart and whispered, "Why don't you let Me sweep the sin out of your heart, like you sweep out the dirt from the room?" She said, "At that moment I determined to go to the meeting that night and surrender my life to Him."
A few years ago Uncle Elbert with others and I were at Pallie and Darrell's for several days. He told some of his story. After Mother gave her heart to the Lord, she gently urged him to give his heart to the Lord. I don't remember when he did. What I do remember was this: In the summer of 1939 there had been another Revival Meeting at the Midway School. On Sunday night, after the last service of the Revival, the pastor announced that he didn't feel right about closing the meetings. He ask the men of the Congregation to come the next morning at 10am for prayer.
Uncle Elbert was at that service and told me about it. His birthday was June 26, 1920. Mother Shumaker had given him a new pocket watch for his birthday. He said, "I don't know how she ever had enough money to buy the watch." On Monday morning, following that call to prayer, Uncle Elbert was alone in the cotton patch west of their house chopping cotton. He stopped for a moment to rest and wondered about the time. He took out his new "watch that Mama gave me" and saw that it was 10:00am. He remembered the pastor's announcement and knew the men were there to pray. He said, "At that instant I heard the Lord call me to preach."
He argured that he couldn't preach. He said he would be a good Christian man. He promised to follow the Lord all his life. He offered to be the best tithing man in the congregation. He pled to be the greatest Sunday School Superintendent the place had ever seen. But for all his resisting of the call, the Lord wouldn't let him go. Finally, he gave up.
He couldn't read well. He always had trouble with math. He still had the twelth grade to attend that fall and finish in the spring. He didn't know how to preach or how to start. He didn't have any money and his family didn't have any either. From his point of view, it was a hopeless prospect. But he believed in God and believed in prayer. He began the pastorate of his first Church in 1943. He did retire after many years, but has continued to be called on for funerals, weddings, and pastoral supply. He has preached more than 500 funeral services and this summer had his 93 birthday.
Twenty-five years after that day in the cotton patch, he received a letter from Uncle Everett Davis. The letter said: "Elbert, I never told you, and wanted you to know. On that Monday morning in the Pastor's call to prayer, at 10:00am. I asked God to call you to preach." I don't know what his response was to Uncle Everett. I do know that when Uncle Everett and Aunt Pearl's son, A. Y. Davis, was lost in action during WW II, Uncle Elbert officiated when they held the Memorial Service at the High Point Methodist Church.
A rattlesnake struck Donnie about the middle of her calf on her left leg. I think that was May 18, 1948. After our Parents left taking her to Dr. Crow in Olustee, I lay with my face in the back of the couch and promised God, if He would save her life, I would give my life to him. He did and I did. The Methodist Church in Eldorado was having a Revival Meeting in August that year. Our family was attending most of the services that week. One night when the Evangelist gave the altar call, I responded. That night at age eleven, I went forward, knelt at the mourners bench and gave my heart and life to the Lord.
Brother Staught was Pastor of our Church at High Point. Soon after he came, he asked if anyone had been saved since the last pastor left and was in need of baptism. I raised my hand. There were others and I suppose the timing was a factor, because a group of older persons were baptized in a farm pond belonging to one of the Freeman's soon after that, about a mile east of the Church. I remember Midge Richie as one of the adult persons being baptized. Later in the summer, my cousin Milton Shumaker and I were baptized in Custer Freeman's farm pond.
After Brother Staught was transfered, Brother Ray Altaffer was our next pastor. It was during his pastorate that I received my call to preach. One Sunday morning, May 18, 1952, he called me to the front and from the side of the pulpit he gave to me An Exhorter's License. At age 15, I was now authorized to Exhort on the truths of the Word of God. There have been other licenseings along the way.
The long road from that day to this went by just one day at a time. Some times the day seemed to be as long as a year and some years have seemed to pass as quickly as a day. There have been days of sadness, but over all, I must say the whole journey has been filled with very rich gladness. I have not stood in the pulpit every Sunday, but I have been faithful to the calling of God to proclaim His word as opportunity afforded through these 61 years. And He has been my most faithful Shepherd, Heavenly Father and constantly abiding Holy Spirit. I give all praise to Him!
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
GOOD OLE SUMMER TIME
So Many Summer Activities
The Kids love going to Park West here in Oregon, Il and spending time in the Sprinkle Park. A couple or three months ago, Nana got us a puppy. We usually had a dog or more down on the river farm those many years past, but never had one in the house and never had to do anything about potty training animals. Boy, this is a new experience... for us all.
July 4 was the beginning of our Odd Year Family Reunion. The Boys, Sebastian age 8, and Leo age 6, and I drove over a day early, on Wednesday. Carlene, Joanna and Elizza, age 10, came over a day later because Carlene was playing in an orchestra for the Celebration of July 4 in Muscatine, Iowa.
About half the Family were attending the three day Reunion. Several of us were staying at the Country Inn Motel in Greenfield, Ind. We had our breakfast there, and a swim pool. We went for morning activities to Uncle Ray and Aunt Dianne's Heritage Summit Farm. About 10:30 each morning all the Kids who arrived went to the hen house and gathered eggs from the nests into the designated basket.
Lunch Time found us arriving at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Philip's house, of "A Romantic Porch" fame. About forty-five to fifty-two or three family members ate there each day. A large swim pool was placed on the back lawn and a very fun play set near the garage. There are almost a total of one-hundred in this Grand Daddy and Grand Mother Easley Family. So about half of us were in attendance.
Afternoon many of the group made their way by car back to the Farm for afternoon activities. Saturday the first picking of new green beans took place. And they were O So Good! Pulling weeds out to the rows of onions, checking up on the Okra plants, looking in on the huge Potato patch, discovering the first silks of the first ear of sweet corn was most significant. Uncle Ray even took a picture with his ever present phone. Skeet Shooting was a first at Reunion and very popular. The children who had never shot before, first had lessons with BB guns, then their opportunity on a larger gun. The whole experience was well and safely supervised by the Uncles and Older Cousins.
Thursday, First day of Reunion, our new and previously unknown Cousins, Brian and Tommie Easley came for a few hours. That was such a special time. We are so very grateful for the new addition to our growing family.
Breakfast was late or early at the Motel on Sunday morning. Everybody was packing and loading. So I think I went to the Breakfast room two or three times during the morning just to see who had arrived. Church Service was at 11:00 am. back at Aunt Rachel's. From the start they had erected a wonderful white tent over part of their driveway. So there were plenty of tables and chairs for all the meals and chatting. Meals were all prepared by the Aunts in the kitchen or by some Uncles on the out-door grill. The food was so wonderful and healthy. Many watermelons made their way into the back hall and up onto the big buffet.
We've always rotated the evening devotions and Sunday Message among the brothers and brothers-in-law. Uncle Elbert was our very special Guest Speaker a few years ago. This year it was my turn to give the Sunday morning message. A passage on my heart and mind for some time has been from John's Gospel chapters 13-16. For this occasion I chose John 15:12-17. I have felt that to be a strongly powerful message for the Church of this current age.
It seems that most of the family swiftly returned to their usual rut. A few have circled around a bit before the School Bell rings everybody back into line, at least by Labor Day, if not a week or two sooner. I had the joyful opportunity to fly away on Thur., July 18 for about six weeks with Lydia and Gabriel. Their two fine lasses, Gaia, age 7 and Carys, age 5, are training me in all things, Linguistic. What a joy!
I should be back in the States before you get all the summer used up. So we can plan on bringing in the Autumn together. God bless and keep you, everyone!
The Kids love going to Park West here in Oregon, Il and spending time in the Sprinkle Park. A couple or three months ago, Nana got us a puppy. We usually had a dog or more down on the river farm those many years past, but never had one in the house and never had to do anything about potty training animals. Boy, this is a new experience... for us all.
July 4 was the beginning of our Odd Year Family Reunion. The Boys, Sebastian age 8, and Leo age 6, and I drove over a day early, on Wednesday. Carlene, Joanna and Elizza, age 10, came over a day later because Carlene was playing in an orchestra for the Celebration of July 4 in Muscatine, Iowa.
About half the Family were attending the three day Reunion. Several of us were staying at the Country Inn Motel in Greenfield, Ind. We had our breakfast there, and a swim pool. We went for morning activities to Uncle Ray and Aunt Dianne's Heritage Summit Farm. About 10:30 each morning all the Kids who arrived went to the hen house and gathered eggs from the nests into the designated basket.
Lunch Time found us arriving at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Philip's house, of "A Romantic Porch" fame. About forty-five to fifty-two or three family members ate there each day. A large swim pool was placed on the back lawn and a very fun play set near the garage. There are almost a total of one-hundred in this Grand Daddy and Grand Mother Easley Family. So about half of us were in attendance.
Afternoon many of the group made their way by car back to the Farm for afternoon activities. Saturday the first picking of new green beans took place. And they were O So Good! Pulling weeds out to the rows of onions, checking up on the Okra plants, looking in on the huge Potato patch, discovering the first silks of the first ear of sweet corn was most significant. Uncle Ray even took a picture with his ever present phone. Skeet Shooting was a first at Reunion and very popular. The children who had never shot before, first had lessons with BB guns, then their opportunity on a larger gun. The whole experience was well and safely supervised by the Uncles and Older Cousins.
Thursday, First day of Reunion, our new and previously unknown Cousins, Brian and Tommie Easley came for a few hours. That was such a special time. We are so very grateful for the new addition to our growing family.
Breakfast was late or early at the Motel on Sunday morning. Everybody was packing and loading. So I think I went to the Breakfast room two or three times during the morning just to see who had arrived. Church Service was at 11:00 am. back at Aunt Rachel's. From the start they had erected a wonderful white tent over part of their driveway. So there were plenty of tables and chairs for all the meals and chatting. Meals were all prepared by the Aunts in the kitchen or by some Uncles on the out-door grill. The food was so wonderful and healthy. Many watermelons made their way into the back hall and up onto the big buffet.
We've always rotated the evening devotions and Sunday Message among the brothers and brothers-in-law. Uncle Elbert was our very special Guest Speaker a few years ago. This year it was my turn to give the Sunday morning message. A passage on my heart and mind for some time has been from John's Gospel chapters 13-16. For this occasion I chose John 15:12-17. I have felt that to be a strongly powerful message for the Church of this current age.
It seems that most of the family swiftly returned to their usual rut. A few have circled around a bit before the School Bell rings everybody back into line, at least by Labor Day, if not a week or two sooner. I had the joyful opportunity to fly away on Thur., July 18 for about six weeks with Lydia and Gabriel. Their two fine lasses, Gaia, age 7 and Carys, age 5, are training me in all things, Linguistic. What a joy!
I should be back in the States before you get all the summer used up. So we can plan on bringing in the Autumn together. God bless and keep you, everyone!
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