|The following story was featured in my book and is one of my favorites. If you missed it the first time around it's worth a second look.
Growing up on a farm in southern Ohio was a lot of fun. We had all sorts of adventures, many, which I am sad to say, have escaped my memory. We had a building next to our house that we called the shed. It had a chicken house on one side and an outhouse on the other side. In the middle was where we kept our two freezers full of beef and vegetables. Yes, we grew our own veggies and slaughtered our farm animals for food.
Anyhow, the roof was in such bad shape that my dad decided a new roof was in order. So, he called my cousin, Kenny, who helped us with all of those tasks, and my brother and dad got together one weekend and put new shingles on the roof of the shed. The old shingles were dispatched to what we called the ditch which was a place where things ended up to be dealt with at a later time. It wasn’t really a dump, because it always got cleaned up eventually, but more like a holding station.
I’m not sure what time of year it was, but it had to be in the fall sometime because it was cool and dry and we were in school. My sister and I were in Cherry Fork having been transferred from our respective schools waiting to begin the ride back home on our regular bus. We rode Bus 7 and our driver’s name was Don. Suddenly, a message came over the emergency radio that he carried that there was a fire at the Palmer house on Cherry Fork Road.
Quiet, absolute quiet! No one said a word. My sister and I ran to the front of the bus and he took off. We were usually about the 6th or 7th stop on the way home but he didn’t stop to let anyone off the bus. I don’t know how fast he was going but when we hit the bottom of the big hill everyone and everything went flying.
My sister and I were hanging on for dear life and when we approached the house you couldn’t see anything but smoke and fire trucks. We saw my brother’s truck but didn’t know where he was. Everyone on the bus had their noses pressed up to the glass trying to see the blaze. All we wanted to do was get off the bus and find our brother. Don told everyone on the bus to stay put while he went and talked to the firemen.
After a few tense moments he came back and said we could get off the bus. Everything was under control. We were walking up the driveway when we saw my brother being treated by the paramedics. It seemed that he had taken in a little smoke while trying to protect the house with a garden hose.
My brother had decided that that particular day was a good day to begin to clean up the shingles and other material down in the ditch. He had started a fire and was going to let it burn itself out. It seemed like a good idea until the wind picked up and shifted directions. The wind was picking up the shingles and blowing them directly towards the house. In a matter of minutes the fire had leapt from the ditch and the entire field was ablaze and heading for the house.
Luckily, a neighbor, Tom Downing, had spotted the fire and called the fire department. When they arrived, my brother was covered with scratches and black soot from the fire and was guarding the house with the trusty water hose. The fireman yelled for him to drop the hose and back away from the fire but he wasn’t moving.
Fortunately, the wind shifted again and the fire changed directions. The firemen were able to apply several tankers full of water to the blaze and all that was left was a blackened field and a few remaining smoldering shingles.
My brother looked at us and then looked at the field and said this: “Do you think Mom and Dad are going to be mad? I saved the house."
Friday, September 28, 2012
Posted by Gianetta at 11:28 AM
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
|In my family we like to have more than one bank account. I'm not sure why but I think it started with my Mamaw, who was my father's mother. Her name was Mary Lou Leonard Palmer Pitzer and she had money in every bank within a three county radius.
I never knew this until later, after she had passed away. I may have accompanied her to the bank once or twice when I was little but I can't say for sure. What I can say for sure is that I knew where Mamaw kept her spending money: in her bra. I wonder why she did that? She always carried a large pocketbook, full of all kinds of junk, but she kept her money close to her heart.
I've thought about doing that sometimes too, but I really don't have any extra room in there other than what is supposed to be in there. (If you know what I mean.) Over the last couple of years, more than one bank that I am affiliated with has gone belly up. The next thing you know the old signs have either been removed or covered up by a new bank's banner from somewhere that I've never heard of. Then you get new cards, checks and all sorts of other junk from the new bank and you're supposed to chuck the rest.
Sometimes, I don't do that.
A few days ago, I had to visit different locations to handle several different transactions. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem. But someone forgot to tell me that. As I waited in the drive thru line mentally checking off items on my to do list, I realized that the lady at the bank was trying to get my attention.
"Ma'am? Excuse me?"
"Ma'am? Hello? Earth to lady in the red Mustang..."
"Yes?" I replied.
"What account do you want this to go into? And while I've got your attention, are you sure you're at the right bank?"
"What do you mean, what account? Of course, I'm at the right bank." This lady had my attention now.
"Well, ma'am, you've given me a bank deposit slip from a bank that was shut down five years ago and you didn't write down the account number."
"Oh, goodness! Can't you just look it up by my name?" I asked.
"Sure. I just need some identification."
"Okay." I began looking frantically for my license but it was soon apparent that I had forgotten it somewhere. I must have left it at the previous bank. I told the lady that I would be right back and drove back to the other bank.
The nice lady there saw me approach, waved my license in the air and offered these sage words of advice: "You know, you ought to keep that thing in your bra. My Granny taught me to do that after I left mine once. Yes sir, I keep it tucked right here, up close and personal. You have a good day now!"
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Since making my first official public appearance as a published author at the Decatur Book Festival I thought I would provide a few snapshots of the festive occasion.
Cooling off before the book signing.
Check out my name; third from the bottom on the left.
A good crowd checking out all the books.
Looking out from the Emerging Authors tent.
Meeting fellow authors.
Someone checking out my book.
A break in the crowd.
Talking with an avid book reader.
More people waiting to have their book signed. How cool is that?
Mom and I trying to figure out which way to go.
How did that picture get in here?
A great way to end the day.
We had a great time. I hope to have many more...the cake was good too!