When Jill Comes to Visit

My daughter flew in from Dallas to visit for a week. We love it when she comes because she doesn't come for a "visit" anymore as she did when her kids were young or when we were younger. Now when she comes it's usually to help us out in some way. When the folks get older they can't do all the things they used to be able to do, so even the grandkids get involved with helping out when they come for a visit.

Last year Jill came to drive us to Nebraska to see our sons. Ron hates to drive, and that was just too long a trip for me to be behind the wheel, and I don't fly, so she did the honors since she is a very good driver and loves to drive.

This time she came bearing gifts, a Nebraska gym bag for Ron, and a cute tea towel with little dachshunds on it for me. But while she was here she refused to be idle, and that's when she gave me one of the sweetest gifts ever. Every day I am so grateful.

Before she came she had asked me to give her something to do while she was here, so I suggested that she help dad finish up the refurbishing of the screen room on our deck by helping him put new screens in the windows. I really didn't understand what I was asking, I guess. I didn't think I was asking much, but I forgot who was going to be doing the work. Not everyone works in the same way that I work. Those two are much more methodical that I.

As it turned out, it took them the whole week to finish the job. It really was a pleasure watching and listening to them work because they get along so well and work well together. They both worked hard, but she worked harder. She was out there stapling screen when dad was in the house claiming he was just too worn out. She went out early, and she stayed out late, wanting to get it all done before she left for home.

By Friday the screens were in, even if the trim wasn't all done, and Jill decided to come along with me to my hairdresser and then she treated us to manicures. She and I even got to sit together during the manicure which made it so much more fun. That night she treated dad and I to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, so it was a fun day.

So, she really, really came bearing gifts. But, my favorite gift, the one I experience every morning, is the gift of the screen room where I can go in the mornings and have special time alone with my Savior and King. Jill can never know how I cherish this gift. I love the towel, the time with her for a manicure, the delicious meal, all were wonderful, thoughtful gifts. But, I'm not sure she can ever top this special present of the screen room.

A Christmas Really Short Story

'Twas a month before Christmas and all through the house

We were cold and uneasy and starting to grouse.

The workers installed a new heat pump, you see,

And the thermostat since hadn't reached sixty-three.

The dogs were all shivering and curled up in balls

As Ron and I kept warm by frequenting the malls. 

It's Georgia, you see, and it's supposed to be warm.

But at least in November there's no tropical storm.

So, disguised as martyrs we snuggled in our bed,

With a space heater blowing heat over our heads.

We had to stay busy so we wouldn't freeze,

And the metal got colder in both of my knees.

We gave thanks on a Thursday with friends in their home.

They had turkey, we brought trimmings, we all brought our love.

On a Saturday morning Ron served cocoa brew

To some kids and their parents, and Santa Claus, too.

They partied all morning with crafts at the church,

While I, overseer, oversaw from my perch.

On a nice day I turned the big seven-O,

And I know that I haven't got very far to go.

So, Ron is the tower of strength in our home,

Doing dishes and vacuuming, so they finally get done.

The kids are all grown. There's no baby to rock.

Nobody wants presents, just money in their sock.

Way out here in Georgia, there's no family to haunt,

And a trip to Nebraska is too much of a jaunt.

There'll be no snow for Christmas, and it's 60 degrees.

If you want snow for Christmas you must flock your trees.

Your Flowery Branch friends wish you all Christmas joy

That comes from you knowing God's gift, His holy boy.

As we celebrate and honor the Christ child's birth

We look forward to His returning and His peace on the new earth.

Fare-thee-well is the sentiment as the last line I write:

Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a GOOD night!

The Snake

Creeping silently in the darkness    

Come the lies the world adores.
Dressed in fine exotic costumes,
Luring like a street corner whore.
Quietly hiding in dark corners,.
Waiting for precise moments when
The time arrives to take the prisoner.
Evil wins. It begins again.
Watch your back! You're seldom safe.
Guard your heart! Don't look away!
Evil lurks to take you captive.
Entering in wherever he may.

No Spring Chicken

I've gotten so old I can hardly walk.

I forget what I'm saying when I'm trying to talk.

I cannot leave home without taking my cane,

But they just can't find anything to jump start my brain.

My aching back would cause Hercules to weep.

It wakes me at night when I'm trying to sleep.

I have corns and bunions that are hard to remove.

They're quite bothersome when I get in my groove.

 

I have old age spots, cataracts, and weak knees.

I no longer tackle the stairsteps with ease.

I have twenty doctors for all of my ills.

And I'm sure that I rattle from all of my pills.

You'll have to speak up for it's now hard to hear.

Can't have sex anymore without stripping a gear.

My hands started shaking, the treadmill is sold

Cause it's tough falling off now that I am so old.

Happy Birthday to me! Senior citizen for hire!
Can't have birthday cake without starting a fire.
I'm begging for sympathy as I'm approaching the mold

Of a gaffer and codger now that I am so old.

Metamorphosis

Once I was dead.
I enjoyed all the fun with the other dead people
Doing dead people fun.
I was cocky and proud,
And I'd spit in your face
If you'd try a discussion about Jesus and grace.
I hadn't the time
For reflection or guilt.
I lived my life my way.
It was carefully built.
But, oh! What a mess in my miserable home!
And still I refused
To step down from my throne.

The stench of my deadness
Was toxic and strong.
To know its extent would have filled you with dread.
My family suffered
From all my bad choices.
My focus was me.
I did nothing for you.

But the hand of grace
Worked in me over the years.
Little changes. Some regrets.
My mother's death, and my fears.
My sin was uncomfortable,
And I wanted out
Of this life I'd created and started to doubt.
The prayers of my mother and family were strong.
I'd held out a long time.
Some would say much too long.
Then one Saturday morning
A pastor came to our home,
And with serenity and peace
I stepped down from my throne.
The changes in my life
Were miraculous and true.
To obey Him and please Him
Is all I want to do.

I was hungry for Jesus.
I poured over His word.
I devoured every sentence.
I hid in my heart all I learned.
The purging and cleansing
Refining my life was not easy.
So much to remove it felt like a knife
That was carving and shaping
And soon I could see
The person I was becoming
Was the one I always wanted to be.
God's people were helpful.
God's people were fun.
I delighted in my new life
When each day was done.
God's people were accepting
Even when they knew
What I was before Jesus.
They were faithful and true.

Over thirty years now
I have reveled in His grace.
I have good days
And bad days when I fall on my face.
I'm not perfect, but I know
That the devil is on the run.
My Redeemer paid my ransom and the victory is won.

Love's Expression

His anger used to ruin my day;

His childish pouting to shut me out.

The years have opened wide my eyes.

I no longer suffer to his manipulative way.

For years I have chosen to simply ignore

The rants of the anger he cannot contain.

The source that enables my calmness with love

Is the source he refuses. He won't open that door.

So Jesus, my source of love, showed me a way

To display how I love him by using my art.

As I draw I think lovingly, keeping him close.

Each stroke that I make is to cheer up his day.

I have chosen a subject so dear to his heart.

I am eager to love him in my motherly way.

It's enough for the moment to love an adult child

In my late evening quietness while we are far apart.

The Narrow Butt Chair

As I pushed through the door it was daunting to see

That no thought had been given to people like me.

It's the furnishing gurus that boggle my brain,

Who, along with society our big butts disdain.

I took it all in, every chair in the room

Was for narrow butt people. Oh! The sadness and gloom!

So, I gave them my name. Then I nestled in

To a narrow butt chair with a sigh and chagrin.

I waited for nursie to call out my name

While I played Words With Friends who could put me to shame.

Soon I heard her call out, and I answered with cheer,

"I'll be with you, darlin' when I get out of here."

I started to rise from the seat where I perched,

And I struggled and pitched, and I wriggled and lurched.

I stood halfway up, for my chair was attached

To my backside quite firmly as if something I'd hatched.

As a tear trickled downward I glanced at my nurse.

I saw sympathy in her because of my curse.

So, she grabbed both the armrests and pulled while I pushed.

By the time I saw doctor I was side-sore and bushed.

Oh, have pity you decorators! I cry out in despair!

How embarrassing to be trapped in a narrow butt chair!

Wondering Through The Day

Did you ever wonder if God is concerned

about what you just said or did?

Have you ever considered that what seemed so right

was quite hurtful to the Father instead?

Did you know He delights in you, knows you by name,

and He cherishes the time that you pray?

He enjoys taking care of you, guarding your soul,

and He sings over you every day.**

Do you listen to your words? Do you talk about friends?

Do you think He would like what He hears?

Have you thanked Him today for His goodness and grace

that has helped you to overcome fears?

Do you hunger for His presence and seek Him each day?

Do you long for His wisdom and care?

He's a very doting Father, and He guides us on

to complete all that He has started here.

He reminded me this morning that He's listening and He cares.

He told me that I need to guard my way.

For life has a tendency of making us forget

that my Father holds my hand and guides each day.

And I know when life's completed, and He comes to take me home

I'll be ready and refined by His loving hand.

I'm free to do the choosing when the question is said and done,

But, for God and Christ and Spirit I'll make my stand.

**Zephaniah 3:17

The Class of Sixty-six 50th Reunion

I shake my head. It's hard to conceive,

I'm truly not certain I can really believe.

It's been fifty years since the halls echoed loudly

Of the fellows I remember so dearly and proudly.

A lifetime of dreams have been lost and achieved.

We've given our best. Some gave all. Some received.

But, it's time for a show down. A test, if you will.

Who looks good, even though we're way over the hill.

Conspicuously, some are quite absent, and it seems

That the ones in attendance have used lotions and creams

To make them look spiffy and handsome and fine.

It's really not easy when you're pushing sixty-nine.

But, once we were younger. Yes, then we had it all.

T'was before we found out, with each high comes a fall.

And, here we sit proudly, as if nothing went wrong.

We're all smiling and laughing, and we sing all the songs.

We're a child of the sixties. We know how to endure.

We've been through the wars, we've known heartache, it's sure.

We have conquered our demons and slowed down the winds.

We've won and we've lost. Now our journey nears its end.

But wait! Only fifty? Imagine it, friend!

It's possible, at sixty we could be here again!

We'll be dancing and laughing and having some fun.

That is, if our legs are still moving, not numb.

And, if we can remember a time table to keep

So we all can get naps and our meds, then to sleep.

Oh! Won't it be fun to see each one again

With our hearing aids, walkers and electric canes?

So, if we've missed fifty, I wish no regret.

I hope we'll find sixty, and even more yet.

And, meanwhile let's laugh and enjoy each new day.

Cause I can't wait to see you when sixty comes our way.

Shirley Johnson Schmuck

Listening To My Childhood

Sounds of my childhood.........

Locusts humming on a summer night.
My mom singing while at the clothesline.
A bouncing basketball on the gravel in the alley.
Fighting cats outside my bedroom window.
Saturday night Shock Theater at 11 o'clock music that frightened me.
My mom calling me from the back porch just after dark. "Shirley ANN!"
My ocarina as I play Roses Are Red My Love.

My mother telling me to clean up my plate.
Peewee, the parakeet, telling me to clean up my plate.
Peewee laughing like my mom and talking.

Peewee

Mom and dad talking on the front porch.
Dad playing his harmonica and singing on the front porch.
Dad's laughter, loud and hearty.
Mom's laughter, loud and joyful.

Harriet Hunker's mom calling her to come home.
Sherry's mom calling her to come home, "Cher-YL!"
Mary Casey yelling, "Annie Annie Over" from the other side of their garage.
Lawnmowers roaring.

The wringer washing machine on the back porch going, slosh, slosh in rhythmic tune.
Mom singing at the clothesline.
Waking up to mom singing in the kitchen. 


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Shock Theatre 

Comedy, Horror | TV Series (1957–1959)

Episode Guide

0 episodes

In The Darkest Hour of Need

The early morning hours crept in.

They say, the darkest hour of the day.

And, she sat in her room, yes, the hour it was dark,

For her heart was aching and crying in pain.

She sat all alone with the memories flooding in.

She longed just to touch the one she had lost.

Her tears flowing freely to empty the pain,

But, the pain lingers on, stabbing deeply within.

She cries out to the Father with soulful reproach.

How can this be happening? How can she get through?

And she feels He's not listening, not caring, not there.

And the loneliness hovers as she feels so alone.

Now, at that same hour a friend is awakened.

She looks at the time, and she feels there's a need.

She drops at the bedside, on her knees she now rests.

There's someone to pray for, and she honors the call.

It's not for her knowledge to know who is calling.

Silently, lovingly she whispers to Him.

The Father is listening and showering His love

On the one who cries out. And it eases her pain.

Respond to the Spirit, no matter the hour.

Be ready to summon His grace for a friend.

At times we're despondent and need reinforcement.

We cover each other in the darkest hour of need.

Ode To Da Crooked Nose

I'd never noticed this before.

It's shocking, I suppose.

You see, I've just become aware

That I have a crooked nose.

With years and years of photographs

You'd think I'd plainly see

That certain things upon my face

Are not where they should be.

Now, many folks have noses

That rest upon their chin.

And, some have real schnozzes

That obliterate their grin.

I know a gent so kindly,

And I hold him very dear.

But, he has a crooked nozzle

That can smell his inner ear.

My problem is a small one,

So complaining is just crude.

I shouldn't say one word at all,

For I know it could be rude.

But, I've noticed that it tilts quite left,

Just a little, don't you see?

And, now I think I look very strange

To the ones who look at me.

But, if I were to tell it true,

I'd have to bravely say,

I've always looked so strange to them,

And, I do to this very day.

My Favorite Time of Day

The quietude of the morning is my favorite time of day.
Its silence allows my mind to wander and create along the way.
The Master speaks in whispers, and gently calls my name.
His gift to me comes quickly, and flows through every frame.

This offering I cherish is creation of the verse.
It permeates my being without pause or the need to rehearse.
The gentle prodding comes without searching, without delay,
As I revel in the quietude of my favorite time of day.

And peacefully arises the brilliant warmth of the sun,
Reminding of the rebirth we've been given by the One
Who visited His creation to express His endless love.
I delight in this each morning, sharing life with the mourning dove.

Listen carefully to the silence for the gift He freely gives.
Never waste a moment to explore the special life we live.
I choose to wake each morning with the quiet, gentle One
Who writes upon my heart these words of verse as day is begun.

He Is Everything To Me

He makes me smile.

He makes me wonder why I ever tried to live without Him.

He makes me laugh

When I think about the ways that He delights my soul.

He makes me happy.

There's no other joy in life that compares to His presence.

He makes me content

As He wipes away the temptations I might encounter.

He makes me thrill

As I contemplate the magnificence of His being.

He calms my soul

As I recognize the shield He provides for my safekeeping.

He gives me hope.

There's no other source of refuge I can depend on.

He makes me grateful.

He has lavished my life with His infinite lovingkindness.

He is my inspiration.

I dare to aspire to be as one with my Lord and Savior!

He makes me love.

And He has promised His love and goodness in His eternal kingdom.

Sadness

Sometimes life's sadness overpowers me.

It's not a sadness that can make you cry,

Nor is it a feeling that you can really share.

It's simply a despondency within your soul.

Sometimes life's sadness appears to me in a child,

One whose body is left twisted and deformed

Because a mother chose a drug to quench her need,

And cared little of the life she grew inside.

Sometimes I see life's sadness in a man

That sits alone in his room, preparing to die,

As his family goes their way, enjoying life,

Forgetting the man's sacrifices in past times.

Sometimes I drive along a city street,

And I watch the homeless with all they own go by.

Who misses them? Where are the ones they love?

Are they unwelcome, or do their people just not care?

Sometimes my heart cries out in pain and woe.

A memory of the loved one I can't see.

The past has come between us, severed the tie.

And I wonder if I can bear it another day.

Oh, the miseries of life that people bear!

We stand aside and watch, then go our way.

Sometimes life's sadness goes unnoticed and ignored,

Because we don't know how to ease the pain.

Forgive us Father! Teach us how to love.

Restore in us a caring, sympathetic heart.

Remind us of the prayers we've left unsaid.

God save us from the evil of callous apathy.

Some may think I've been a little too focused lately on being old and losing some of my faculties, and even getting a little too crotchety. I think it's their imagination. I admit that I do think about it a bit. But, hey! I'm old! What else have I got to do besides sit around and think about things?  Frankly, if you don't like it, I say tough!

Oh! The Joys of Old Age

What's wrong with us? There comes that time,

And we really ought to know

That if you get too old and slow

Then you're gonna have to go.

You're booted from the workplace.

The neighbors shake their heads.

The kids forget to call you,

And the g-men think you're dead.

You stand in line for hours just to get a little card

That says you get some money 

For which you worked so hard.

But wait! It's not so simple!

They're not sure that you are you.

So, you jump through hoops and fill out forms.

And just when you think you're through,

They hand you ten more forms and smile 

With a twinkle in their eye. 

It's really quite sadistic how they delight to see you cry.

Now, medical is another fact that you don't want to face.
Insurance men and women hover over your living space.
Your doctor has reservations about everything you eat,
And your dentist wants to talk about installing some false teeth.
I know. You think I'm crazy to imagine such wild things.
But, the truth is this is just a glimpse of all the grief it brings.
No. I'm just saying it gets tough, the older that you get.
So, enjoy your life, and take care now so there's nothing you'll regret.

There is one thing that I might add

 That makes up for all this.

There are things that come with age 

That give you so much joy and bliss.

I know I've whined and cried a bit, 

And even wrung my hands.

But, the best of being older

 Is enjoying all the grands.

Your grandkids are the greatest thing. 

You rock and read and play.

Your aches and pains disolve a bit with every word they say.

You'll find that they're the smartest, the most handsome, and quite nice,

And the stories that you'll tell will be repeated more than twice.

It's the best reward for all the years of diapers and teens.

And, your children get to go through worse. 

Oh! It's the epitome of your dreams!

Well, I must go. I heard a knock. It's an agent at the door.
He wants to sell me security that I've never had before.
He thinks I was born yesterday, and I'll buy the line he's spun.
But, surprise! I have security. This old lady packs a gun.

Where Classy Resides

It is a surname of German origin. As a noun, it means jewelry; as an adjective, it means neat in the sense of clean, tidy, or having a simple elegance. It reflects glamour and good taste, and it can be seen on store fronts in good German business areas.

Where Classy Resides

A few years ago I just could not defend

A good reason to marry him over again.

But now that he's trained, and I've got him in hand,

I believe that my husband is more than just grand.
Oh, sure, he has issues, and, well, so do I,
But the progress he's made can be measured quite high.
There are those who would say that he married up.
Now, forty years later he's all quite grown up.
So, let me explain and make something quite clear.
There's a very good reason that you find me here.

I've something to say; to get off my chest.

I reckoned that writing in verse would be best.

You see, if I could just change my last name,

The fun of it all would be trivial and vain.

For ignorant people who like to make fun

Of others are not very smart. No. Not one.

Some people who have the small brains of a duck

Get enjoyment from misusing my man's name of Schmuck.

They think that they know the true meaning. But no.

They have no idea, for it's German, you know.

The German definition is beautiful and fair,

For it means pretty jewelry for your neck or your hair.

It could be a scarf or a necklace quite grand,

Or it could be a bracelet you can wear on your hand.

I have to admit that my temper may flare 

At the crass comments made to me, standing right there!
You'd think they'd be cool and not laugh at his name,
For they'd call up their lawyers if I did the same.
No. It's hard to bear idiots with the brains of a duck
When they have no idea of the classy name Schmuck.