An old clock and some memories

Top left, the clock which was headed for the trash. Top right, working on placing the images. Bottom picture, A glimpse at Times Past proudly sits on my mantle along with one of my many antique cameras. Photo by Megan P. 

A few weeks ago I took an old clock that was about to be thrown away and decided that I could make something creative with it.
Now, I know you may be thinking how strange is she, but trust me, it turned out better than even I could imagine.
For weeks I would look at that old clock lying on the kitchen table, or in my house the “catch-all”. What could I do to turn an ordinary old clock into something I would actually display?
My mom, Sheila, actually put me on the right path. She said, “What about the Times Past that you type in the paper?”
GENIUS! Get it? Times Past, a clock... Anyways. So I grabbed the screwdriver and began to take the clock apart.
I grabbed some papers I had around the house and cut out page 5 and begin to figure out just how I was going to make it work.
Once I had the background figured out, I knew that I wanted to make this special and I knew exactly what else I wanted to place on the clock.
Growing up my grandfather, better known as Rabbit Tipton, loved reading the newspaper. He would read all the local papers from surrounding counties and I don’t think he ever missed an issue of the Lexington paper.
Poppy, as I called him, would save the papers he collected over the week and place them in his old army chest in “the cat house” (an old building he had out back where the cats would sleep in the winter time). When we would go visit them on the weekends he would tell me to go read this article from the paper, or “there’s a good one in there this week”.
I loved to go up and rummage around in that old army chest. Stories and articles and the comics of course. As I got older he began saving me newspapers he thought would mean something to me. I still have a lot of those papers stored at my house, and when I begin to miss my Poppy, I go through them and read a few articles that I remember him pointing out.
But anyways, back to the clock. So, since my Poppy first lead me down the path to my love for the newspaper, I decided I would make my ‘Times Past’ in memory of him and that’s just exactly what I did. I had some copies of old pictures of him, his military picture and one of him with an old car while on the military base. I cut them out and added them to the clock.
And, since you never saw Rabbit with Mary, I had to add my Granny and her sisters on there as well.
My clock now sits on my mantle at home and is a reminder of “Times Past”. When I look at it, I am reminded of a saying  I came across a few years ago and it makes me love my family and my memories even more.

Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. “Be still” they say. “Watch and listen. You are the result of the LOVE of THOUSANDS.”

Have I been a kind person today?

As January rolls to an end ,many of us are questioning our dedication to fulfill those New Year’s resolutions we made just a few short weeks ago. Have you been sticking to your diet? Saving your money like you promised yourself you would?I didn’t make any resolutions this year, instead, I made goals for myself. My first goal was to be kind. Now, many of you may find this to be silly and just quit reading this article, and that’s fine, but take a moment to think back and ask yourself “am I a kind person?”A few weeks ago I was in the kitchen putting food up for lunch the next day. I was banging dishes around and mumbling under my breath, when my mother, who was staying with us over the holiday’s, looked at me and told me that if I couldn’t do something with a kind heart then I shouldn’t do it at all. WHAT? I was tired, had been up since 4 a.m. doing the laundry and picking up the house. I had worked all day then went and sat through a two hour meeting and had just got home. I was in no mood to hear about how unkind I was while cleaning the kitchen. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how right my mom was. I wasn’t doing those things with a kind heart. In fact, I sometimes get so angry at being the only person who cleans and does the laundry, I feel as though I’m the only person who knows how to put a new bag in the empty trash can. But do I have to be hateful? No. Of course not. So I asked myself what was causing this unkindness within me?Kindness is defined as being a behavior marked by ethical characteristics, a pleasant disposition, and concern for others. Kindness is known as a virtue and is often seen as helping someone in need in return for nothing. When was the last time I had enjoyed being a kindhearted person?The more I thought about my mom’s words, the more I realized that I was beginning to lose my ability to be kind. I deal with people on a daily basis. Some of those individuals are nice and very helpful, others snub their noses and treat me with disdain because of my job. That’s right, my job. My job does not define me as an individual. My job is just that, my job. It is a paid position of regular employment. It is not who I am when I’m off the clock, but that disdain was leaking into my soul and I wasn’t letting it go. I was letting others attitudes towards my occupation cloud my attitude while at home with my loved ones. So I promised myself then and there that no matter what, I would show kindness to those around me. And I must say, so far so good. Each day I find a Bible verse or a quote to use as motivation to help remind me to have a kind heart. On my desktop at work the word KIND is my background. It’s a reminder that no matter what I am facing or how I am feeling, I must have kindness within me. I’ll end with my verse for today and maybe you’ll take a moment to reflect and ask yourself the same questions I did. Have I been kind to someone lately? “She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.” - Proverbs 31:26 KJV

It's been a busy week in Powell County

These past months I’ve had the opportunity to participate in so many of your local events and activities, and I have enjoyed every one of those moments. I’ve had to step out of my comfort zone and despite those few who give me the cold shoulder (hazards of the job), I have met many wonderful individuals.
This week I watched middle school and high school students host a mock debate. Both teams done an amazing job representing both parties.
Judge Sarah Combs was the guest speaker and her words left not only the future generations with much to contemplate, but the adults in the room as well. She encouraged them to always vote no matter what, but to “demand much of the people who present themselves for your vote”.
Judge Combs also quoted President John F. Kennedy’s Trade Mart speech that he had in his coat pocket on the day he was assassinated in November 1963. Even though the election will be over by the time this reaches you, take a moment and let these words sink in.
“We, in this country, in this generation, are – by destiny rather than by choice – the watchmen on the walls of world freedom. We ask, therefore, that we may be worthy of our power and responsibility, that we may exercise our strength with wisdom and restraint, and that we may achieve in our time and for all time the ancient vision of “peace on earth, good will toward men.” That must always underline our strength. For as was written long ago: “except the Lord keep the city, the watchmen waketh but in vain.”

**********

I spent part of Saturday morning walking around the Red River Museum. So much of your history lies within those old brick walls, it was hard to take it all in.
 I enjoyed meeting with the craftsmen and watching as they demonstrated skills that have long since been pushed away. We rely so much on modern technology and having things right at our fingertips that we easily forget that once those “skills” were just part of everyday life.
Inside the Depot that is located on the property there are photos with names covering the walls. After typing the Times Past for years and wondering what those individuals in the articles were like, I was able to finally put faces with the names I type. Their memory lives on thanks to those who take the time to preserve your history.

**********

I was contacted a few weeks ago by Mrs. Martin who teaches social studies at Powell County Middle School. She told about how several students in her class took it upon themselves to learn more about the mysterious woman who has plagued Egyptologists for centuries.
Monday morning I met with those six seventh graders and congratulated them on such an amazing deed. Make sure to read their story on A-1. Way to go guys. Each of you have done an amazing job.

**********

As most of you already know, Stanton Elementary scored a distinguished in state testing last year. To celebrate the accomplishment the classes took to dancing in the street Monday afternoon. From the YMCA to the electric slide, the afternoon was filled with music and dancing.
I enjoyed standing on the sidelines laughing along with the kids. I must say though, I must be getting old because some of those dances I have never even heard of. I could have rocked the electric slide though!

**********

My father, Johnny Brooks.

My grandfather, James Rabbit Tipton.

Friday is Veterans Day, a day set aside to honor those persons who have served, or are currently serving in the United States Armed Forces.
I am honored and humbled to have had numerous family members to serve - my grandfather, great uncles, uncles, and cousins. All Veterans, family or not, deserve our respect and our gratitude, and so I take this moment to thank you for your service.

How did we become so insecure?

I always wanted to learn to play the guitar. Singing I got down pat!

Growing up I was always told that I could do anything I set my mind to. I had wonderful parents who encouraged my siblings and I to reach beyond the expectations and face our dreams head first.

Personally, I wanted to be everything. A truck driver so that I could see the country, an archeologist because history fascinates me, a Hospice nurse because the one who came into our lives when my father was dying from cancer was a God send. A social worker to be a beacon in some child’s life, and a teacher to encourage children that you never stop learning.

My personal favorite however, the announcer at the Grand Ol’ Opry. Now go ahead and laugh, I do, but when I was little we would watch the Opry on TV and I would tell my Daddy that I was going to be standing on that stage one of these days. I would announce the latest country stars and sometimes even get to sing on the stage, maybe even with Loretta Lynn!

What happened to going out and chasing those dreams? Why did I stop dreaming I could do more and be more?

We are encouraged since birth by our parents and those who surround us to be the best that we can be. They drill it into our minds that we can do anything possible, but some how, doubt creeps into our lives and we begin to other think and criticize ourselves.

Why?

Why have we become our own worst enemy? Who brought that spark of doubt into our lives and made us believe that nothing is possible?

Are we to work meaningless jobs because we are afraid to go out and pursue the one career that we know we would enjoy doing?  Because we are different than others in looks, race, height, weight,  we can’t accomplish unimaginable things?

I’ve believed that about myself for years now, and as I’ve gotten older, those insecurities have brought me nothing but regret.

I should have become an archeologist who discovered a long lost piece of history. A nurse who was the pillar when a family lost a precious loved one. The social worker, who helped a child and let them know that someone cared. The teacher who brought joy and laughter into learning and encouraged children to follow their dreams.

 I battle my insecurities on a daily basis, but I’m learning how to push away some of that doubt. Maybe one of these days, I’ll be able to accomplish the impossible without the insecurities and the fear of doubt holding me back.

As for being that announcer at the Grand Ol’ Opry… A few years ago my husband Tim and I visited the Rhyman Auditorium and I held back from the tour. I stood on an old piece of the original Opry stage and with head held high (and in an extremely quiet voice) I said, “Welcome to the Grand Ol’ Opry… let ‘er go boys……”

The Southern Hummingbird Cake... a smart and delicious choice!

While going through some online cooking sites, I came across the recipe for a Southern Hummingbird Cake. My first thought was that this cake was going to be extremely sweet. I’m not much on cakes or extremely sweet desserts, but this one peaked my interest and I decided to bake one to see exactly what this cake tasted like. I was not disappointed.

Gathering the ingredients wasn’t too hard for me, I mean I had almost all of the ingredients in the pantry already. Except for crushed pineapples. Now, I wasn’t going to go out and make a special trip for one item, and I had chunked pineapples in the pantry and improvised and just chopped up the pineapples chunks. It works for me.

As most cake batters do, this one calls for vegetable oil. If you’ve ever had any type of dessert that I’ve made, it doesn’t contain vegetable oil. I use apple sauce for a substitute. Just use the same amount of apple sauce as it calls for oil. Works great and gives your cakes an additional flavor and helps in keeping the cakes moist.

I topped my hummingbird cake with homemade cream cheese frosting and added pecans to the top. I'm not the best cake icer, and having a husband rushing you because they want to try it doesn't help.

Another side note before baking this cake, make sure that you have a large mixing bowl. I don’t bake often, and my Bybee bowl generally works for anything I make, but this recipe calls for you to mix your wet ingredients into the dry. I found out that a large mixing bowl would work much better and make it easier on you than trying to mix the batter in a normal size bowl and keeping the batter from spilling over the edges. Luckily I managed to make it all fit without any spills.

The recipe I found called for the batter to be divided into three small round baking pans to make a three tiered cake. The non-baker here doesn’t own round baking pans, but I do happen to own something that most people over look now days, a bunt pan! I probably use mine more than most, seeming as it’s one of the few baking utensils I own. Just spray a little baking spray, or butter the bunt pan up, dust a little flour and you are good to go.

This was one of the best cakes that I’ve had in a long time. It was moist and had a wonderful flavor, and the homemade cream cheese frosting just added that extra zip that all desserts need. Not to mention the house smelled wonderful while baking.

However, this would be a recipe to dig out for special occasions; reunions, holidays, birthdays. It is extremely rich, but delicious. Don’t just take my word for it though, make one for yourself and you will understand. I hope you enjoy this cake as well as my household, and a friend I shared the cake with. This will be my new go to cake recipe. Enjoy!

Luke 6:38 - Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.

Luckily I had all the ingredients on hand. Like I mentioned in the article, I improvised with the chunked pineapples and substituted the oil for apple sauce. I used fresh eggs I get from my sister and they were so pretty I hated to crack them open, but for the sake of the cake, I did.

Southern Hummingbird Cake

Ingredients

3 cups all-purpose flour

2 cups granulated sugar

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon

3 eggs

1 cup vegetable oil

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 (8-ounces) can crushed pineapple, undrained

3 (about 2cups) ripe bananas, mashed

1 cup roasted pecans, finely chopped

Cream Cheese frosting

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Prepare three 9-inch cake pans by spraying with baking spray or buttering and lightly flouring.

Whisk together the flour, sugar, baking soda
a, baking powder, salt and ground cinnamon in a large bowl. Set aside.

Cream together the eggs, oil, vanilla extract, pineapple, mashed bananas, and finely chopped pecans in another large bowl. Stir the egg mixture into the flour mixture until just combined. Evenly divide the batter between the three prepared pans and bake for about 20 to 25 minutes, or until a toothpick or skewer inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool for about 10 minutes. Turn cakes onto wire rack and allow to cool completely before frosting with cream cheese frosting.

Cream Cheese Frosting

½ cup butter, softened

8 ounces cream cheese

4 cups confectioner’s sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Beat softened butter and cream cheese until well blended.

Add powdered sugar and vanilla. Beat until creamy.

Note: Since I baked my cake in a bunt pan, I let it bake for 45 minutes and checked it. Make sure you compensate for the type of pan you are using.

This recipe makes a thick rich batter. I wasn't sure it was all going to fit in my trusty old bunt pan.

The Sweet Smell of Summer

  Growing up my family had a different definition of summer vacation. We didn't travel, never went to the beach or spent the weekend in Tennessee. My first time traveling out of state was on my Senior Trip and last summer was my first time seeing the ocean. 
  Now a lot of people would think that our summers were just horrible and boring. Not going on vacation? Me on the other hand, I'm glad we spent our summers at home and with our family. 
  Young or old, usually everyone in the family spent most of the summer either in the garden or in the kitchen. You were either picking, stringing, snapping or shucking outside, or pickling, peeling and canning on the inside.
  My favorite was always stringing the green beans and I still enjoy it to this day. Just not with as much enthusiasm as I use to have.
  But out of all of that, my favorite part of summer was walking into my Granny Mary's house and smelling cinnamon. You see, the smell of cinnamon meant that she was baking bread, and not just any bread, Zucchini bread. 
  Mmm! That smell meant that either she had already baked the bread and was sitting it out to cool, or it was in the oven just waiting on us grandkids to get a warm slice.
  Sometimes Granny would let us help her in the kitchen. Maybe grate the zucchini or break up the walnuts that she put in her bread. Most times we made too big of a mess and she would shoo us out to the front porch. 
  That was fine with me. From the porch you could look in and see those two beautiful brown loves of perfection cooling on the counter top. That first bite of warm zucchini bread was pure love, and to wash it down with a cold glass of milk was just perfection!
  Now that my Granny Mary has passed on, I make sure to bake a few loaves of Zucchini bread every summer. I've changed the recipe a bit over the years, but every once in a while, I'll make it using her recipe and it brings back all those childhood memories of summer that can't be brought back. Those memories are better than any vacation I could have ever taken.
  Usually, if my husband leaves any left, I share the bread with family and friends. You see, to me, I'm not only sharing a part of my childhood with you, I'm sharing a slice of love, just like Granny Mary.

Ingredients all laid out and ready to go! 

Meg's Zucchini Bread

3 eggs

3 tsp vanilla

1 c. applesauce

2 1/2 c. sugar

3 c. flour

1 tsp salt

1 tsp soda

1/2 tsp baking powder

3 tsp cinnamon

1/2 c. chopped nuts (walnuts or pecans)

1/2 c. dried cranberries or raisins

2 c. grated zucchini

In a large bowl beat together eggs, vanilla, applesauce, sugar and cinnamon until combined. In a separate bowl mix your dry ingredients together; flour, salt, soda, baking powder. Stir in zucchini, nuts and cranberries into the wet mixture and gradually stir in your dry ingredients until combined. Bake at 350º for 1 hour in greased loaf pan, or until a tooth pick comes out clean. Let cool. Makes two loaves.

Fresh baked loaves of Zucchini bread I made last night. Delicious!

Learning through loss

Back last summer I learned that my biological father, Johnny was diagnosed with lung cancer. This was such a shock to me. My dad Kenneth, who raised me since birth, passed away from lung cancer in 2002 and learning that Johnny had cancer as well nearly broke me down. 

I didn't know what to say, what to do. Here was this man who is a part of me, and we didn't really know each other.
So for a few weeks I'd randomly go out and sit on the back porch with him and we'd talk. Well, he'd talk and I would sit and listen. How sad that a daughter doesn't know her father.

I learned that when he was growing up, that he lived in a house just down the road from the first house Timmy and I lived in when we got married. That my love of the dirt track comes from him since he use to race. I realized that we smile and laugh alike, and that deep down, I truly did love him.

Johnny is on the far right. This was taken during his dirt track racing days. Notice the guy on the left holding the checkered flag? 

I tried to fight that part of me for a long time. Here is this man who calls just a few months after my daddy passed away to tell me that he was my father. To a 17 year old this is heart breaking and unacceptable. I didn't want to know him. Why would I? After all of these years here is this stranger who comes into my life and wants to be a part of it. How is that acceptable? 

But now, that he's passed away, I'm ashamed of the way I treated him. I shunned him because I didn't want to accept him, and when I was able to accept the fact that he was my father and that no matter what I wanted or thought, that he would always be my father, it was too late. 

Two weeks before he passed away of a heart attack, I gave him a letter. I wish I had that letter here to share with you, but his wife Betty has it. But I started the letter off something like this - 

Dear Johnny - or dad,

I'm not really sure what I should call you. I get so confused. . .

I told him that I had said things that I regretted. That my biggest regret was not getting to know him, my family, my brothers and sisters. I told him about myself. How I love old movies and that I had always felt that a part of me was missing and that spot was filled when I found out about my older brother who shares the same birthday as me. I told him about my life growing up; how I never needed anything and that my dad was my world.

But then I opened up a part of my heart and soul and told him how I felt about him. I told him that no matter, I had always loved him, I just fought that love. I felt as though I was cheating my dad by loving him as well, but that I had realized that there was enough love in me to share with him as well. That I had stood by my dads side while he fought his battle with cancer and that I would stand by his side as well. That if he feel, I'd be there to pick him up no matter what. 

When I handed him that note, I hugged him, kissed him on the cheek and told him to "read this after I leave. I can't say out loud what I can put into words. I love you." Then I got in the car and left. 

A few weeks later I received a voice mail and all it said was, "Megan, its your sister Penny. Please call me back." I knew. And I lost it.  I had lost a part of me that I never really got a chance to know. I lost so much, yet gained so much in the end.

I gained the love of a sister (Penny). Someone that I can call and talk to about him if I need to. I gained a family that helped me get through the loss. Brothers and sisters whom I barely knew, aunts, uncles and cousins who accepted me into their family. I gained love at the same time that I lost a chunk of myself. Do you understand what I mean? It so hard to put into words. 

Johnny with me at my High School graduation.

But he was there at things that my dad wasn't able to be at. He was at my high school graduation, at my proms and even though I tried to fight it, he was there if I needed him. Since he's passed, my mom has told me a lot of things that I needed to know. About why he wasn't a part of my life growing up and why she made the decisions she made. Even though I didn't understand when I first found out, I understand her choices now, and I don't regret one minute of my life so far.

Why should we regret the life we've lived when we can't go back and change the past? All we can do is learn from our mistakes and use them as a foundation for a better, stronger, smarter future. 

This August will be a year since he's been gone. This November will be 11 years since my dad Kenneth passed away. It's so hard to accept, but all I know is that through God, all things are possible. I believe Johnny loved me for me no matter what. And in all honesty, I love him too. 

Catching up.... not yet

It feels like forever since I've taken the time to post something! I constantly talk about how busy my life is, but honestly, what would it hurt for me to take ten minutes out of my day and blog a bit.

My life has changed drastically over the past few months and I would like to catch everyone up to speed... but not today. As I said before my excuse is that I am always so busy. I'll gather up my thoughts, make a few notes and get back with you tomorrow!

I promise! But until then, here's one of my latest pictures... Gotta love fall in Kentucky!

View from the Roberts Cemetery in Irvine, Kentucky. October 14, 2012

Getting back to nature one fish at a time

Me and my bluegill!

 I've never been much of a fisherman, well in my case fisherwoman, but that all changed four years ago. I married an avid fisher. Oh, boy!

  I don't like the smell of fish, I refuse to take them off of the hooks, especially after my husband informed me that some of them will cut you with their… well, I wasn't paying that much attention. Not to mention the fact that  I apologize to all the worms that I put on the hook. They didn't do anything, but that's just the circle of life. 

   A few weeks ago, against me protesting, my husband went out and bought our fishing license. He said that now I didn't have an excuse not to go with him. Shoot fire!  Hey, I tried.

   So the next morning he wakes me up at the crack of dawn to drive 100 miles in the middle of nowhere to this little pond that might be as big as one of those 4 foot above ground pools. Did I mention it was in the middle of nowhere?

   Of course I wasn't going unprepared. I took my fold out chair, a book, my purple fishing pole, and of course my camera. 

   It was early and kinda chilly and I just knew that I wasn't going to like this whole fishing experience, until I caught the first fish. That's right! My line had barely touched water when I saw that floater go under. 

  Now I was excited! Timmy is always catching the large fish, while I catch what he deems as bait. It didn't matter that my fish was only about a pound, give or take a few ounces. Okay, take a few ounces, but I had caught a fish, I still wasn't taking it off the hook though. 

   After a few hours of catching blue gill and releasing them ( I probably caught the same fish over and over again), I got bored. I didn't feel like reading, so I picked up my camera and started walking around. 

   I took pictures of wild flowers and clover and everything that caught my eye. I probably wandered around these woods for a good hour. On our way back to civilization (Okay, it wasn't that far out in the middle of nowhere. This is a fishing tale, we are suppose to exaggerate) Timmy asked if I enjoyed fishing. 

   My answer, "Yep, as long as I get to catch the first fish and take my camera." Looks like I'll be fishing a lot this summer. 

Timmy sitting at the pond.

   Herbert Hoover once said, "Fishing is much more than fish. It is the great occasion when we may return to the fine simplicity of our forefathers." To this I would add, and the beauty of Mother Nature.

More than a name...

Top: My five year old nephew asking questions about life.
Bottom: Finding the name on the traveling wall.

The lawn was crowded, but you would never know. A few whispers could be heard along with the shuffling of feet, the snapping of hundreds of American flags whipping in the wind, and the silent sobs of an American hero.

He was an older gentleman who had on a black Veterans cap, an American flag on his shirt and as I looked up, I could see the tears roll down his face. He was reaching out to a memory, a memory he could touch with the tips of his fingers. A name of a lost comrade, friend, brother, cousin, hero. 

It was a name on the Vietnam Traveling Memorial Wall on EKUs Campus. Three hundred feet of names to remind us of the great sacrifices that were made during the Vietnam War. They say it was “made for the purpose of helping heal and rekindle friendships and to allow people the opportunity to visit loved ones who otherwise may not be able to make the trip to Washington.” 

I found the name of my dad’s cousin, Farris Lee Richardson, and couldn’t help but reach out and run my finger tips over his name. He was a Sergeant in the 101st Airborn Divison. He was only 20 years old when he was killed in action in March of 1968.  

Now, he is a name on a wall, a memory of someone I’ve never even met, but someone whom I hold in the greatest of respect. I couldn’t help the tears. 

It was a moment that even my five year old nephew, William, knew had to be respected. A time to be quiet. He whispered questions to my mom, “Nan, what is this?” “Are they in heaven?” “Everything is good in heaven, so are they having fun?” 

When we walked by the traveling museum he saw a pair of combat boots and asked me if those belong to one of the soldiers “who are with Jesus?”

“Maybe, but he doesn’t need them in Heaven.”

As we made our way through the visitors, I told mom that even though I’ve been to D.C. and seen the original wall, that this was something that every American should see. Visual proof of what these men sacrificed for our country, our families, and our future.

I am proud to be an American. Proud to say that I have family members who have fought and some who have died for their country. Because of the sacrifice of these men and those before them, and those men and women who are fighting today, I am able to write this and say thank you and God Bless. 

Reflections of myself...

Over the past summer I have learned a lot about myself. I decided that I would share a few of those things with you. Some are funny, some silly, and others serious and heartfelt. I hope you enjoy and maybe learn a few things about yourself as well.


I’ve learned...

... that frog legs are something I will NEVER eat again.

... that I am not the only person who can still recite the “Gettysburg Address” by heart. Thank you, Mrs. Turner.

... that when you’ve been out of school for seven years you start to forget people’s names. You talk to them, and know you went to school with them, yet you just can’t seem to remember exactly who they are.

... that I can now tell you almost every member of the Cincinnati Reds, Texas Rangers, Detroit Tigers and St. Louis Cardinals. Thank you, Timmy. 

... that trying new foods really isn’t that terrible. I still don’t like cheese, but alligator isn’t that bad. 

... that having your purse stolen still hurts your feelings six months after it happened.

... that taxi rides aren’t so bad, unless you get the young Indian driver in Nashville who made you car sick before you made it out of the parking lot.

... that sometimes reading a few pages of the Good Book can change your whole perspective.

... that there is power in prayer.

... that people can change. All they need is a chance to prove themselves.

... that when you really need someone to be there for you, you find out who your true friends are.

... that a friend can be someone so unexpected.

... that sometimes taking a ride down the back roads brings back childhood memories you had forgotten.

Our ride down the back roads. Makes me miss my childhood home.

 
... that even on your worst days, someone can call or say something to you that makes everything better.

... that family is sometimes taken for granted and you always need to find time for them.

... that sometimes laughter is the best medicine, and other times tears.

... and that no matter how old you are, sometimes there is nothing better than getting a phone call from the people you love.

Just remember, “Life ain’t always beautiful, but it’s a beautiful ride.”

***

Oh, and I still haven’t made it across the railroad bridge, but it looks like I’m going to have to since people keep saying, “I’ll walk across the bridge with you.” I’ll let you know.

Facing my fears one bridge at a time

When I was young, I wasn’t afraid to do anything. I would stand in front of large crowds, singing and dancing. I would talk to anyone who would lend an ear and I never met a stranger.

After I got sick in ‘07 all of that seemed to change. I’m not as outgoing as I used to be. I have a hard time being around a lot of people, crowds make me nervous, and singing in front of people, even singing at our church, is really hard for me.

Me making a CD at The Ryman!

So this past summer, I decided to conquer some of this fear. I tried out for NBC’s The Voice auditions in Nashville. I’ll go ahead and let you know that I didn’t make it, but I had a great time being apart of the process and I loved meeting all the other people trying to make it big.

I met people from New Jersey, Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, Georgia, Tennessee and of course I was the Kentucky girl in my group. As we sat there for what seemed like hours waiting for our turn, we all got to know each other. We told where we were from, what we did for a living, and all the others told how they had all tried out for American Idol or America’s Got Talent, and decided they would give this contest a try.

Only one person from our group made it. He was originally from New Jersey but had been living in Nashville for years trying to catch his big break. He was an amazing musician, but so were all the others in the room.

After it was all over, I realized that I had faced some of my biggest fears. I had overcome all of the things that I said I couldn’t do. I had been in a stadium full of people I didn’t know, talked to new people, and I sang in front of a crowd. I did all of these things without a second thought.

It’s amazing what you can do when you set your mind to it...

And then along comes another trial.....

The old railroad walk bridge that connects River Drive and Kirkland Ave.

They say you come to a point in your life when you just can’t take another step. No matter how hard you try or what you keep telling yourself in the back of your mind.

This past Monday, I came to that point in my life, while standing on a bridge.

This wasn’t just any bridge mind you, this was the old railroad bridge that connects River Drive and Kirkland. You know the one that I’m talking about. It’s been there for as long as I can remember, and as long as my mom can remember and the train passes beneath it... well, I couldn’t go across.

I stood there and watched as two of the women from work took their time and walked across that rickety thing, and I just kept thinking, “I am too fat for this old bridge.”

This voice in the back of my mind kept telling me that I could make it across, but my feet wouldn’t follow. So as I stood there, half way up the other side looking across, this girl walked up to me and asked what was going on. I stood there talking to her and I said, “We are here to report the news. The other girls went across to see what was going on and to take pictures, but I was afraid that I would end up being the news. The headlines would read, “Large woman causes historic bridge to break.” She laughed and said, “Well, I wouldn’t have walked across that either.”

I stood there feeling like a fool. I had watched both ladies I work with cross the bridge, a man walked across while I was standing there, and yet, I just couldn’t do it. I just knew that if I started across that bridge it would be all over. I even knew that if something should happen that rescue workers were standing less than 100 feet from me, and yet I still couldn’t cross that old bridge.

Finally, the ladies made it back across without anything falling or breaking. One told of how she thought she was afraid of bridges but once she walked across that one, she realized she wasn’t afraid to walk across bridges, just afraid to drive across them.

So in the end I really didn’t feel too bad about not being able to make it across. Except for the fact that I’m not afraid of heights or bridges. So what am I afraid of? I guess the whole moral of the story is that I’m afraid of being fat and breaking old things.

A person once said, “If all my friends were to jump off a bridge, I wouldn’t follow. I’d be at the bottom to catch them when they fall.” To that I would add, “As long as the train wasn’t going underneath.”

Jack of all trades

I am what my daddy considered a “Jack of all trades, yet a master of none”.

I can cook just about anything you ask me to fix. I can even cook it for you on a wood burning stove (got pretty good at that during our last ice storm a few years ago). I can clean anything within an inch of its shine.

I enjoy drawing and crafting which I get from my mama along with her competitiveness.

Sewing is something I know enough about to get by with. I can sew on a button, make curtains, and I’ve even made a few halloween costumes for my friends Faiths kids (simple patterns).

I enjoy working in the garden during the summer months and then canning everything I can think of. If not I give stuff to people I know who need it. I can’t stand to waste.

All of these “life skills” come from my love of our local culture and history and from the love I have for my families own history.

My daddy trapped and sold furs in the winter time and then he dug plant roots and all the wild herbs of the woods when he wasn’t working his day job as a painter.

I’ve seen him take three or four different types of plant roots and make a tonic out of it that would just about make you better thinking about having to choke the stuff down. But, it worked.

My granny and poppy always had a garden and what they didn’t can they would share with the rest of the family. Poppy would also collect hickory nuts and walnuts from the woods and use them.

I just love learning about how people did day to day things in the past. Which brings me to this past weekend.

I was a bit bored so I decided that I would do something that I have never done. Bake my own bread.

Now, I have made zucchini bread before, but I consider that more like a cake that is just baked in a loaf pan.

So, I dug out all of my cook books and laid them out on the counter top. I flipped each one open to the bread section and stood there amazed.

I didn’t realize you could make a loaf of white bread so many different ways. Each recipe was completely unique.

Some recipes called for lard, some called for potato flakes, some called for things I’ve never even heard of. And all of the recipes yielded at least six loaves of bread.

That’s when I decided that my bread making adventure would have to wait a few weeks. Honestly what am I going to do with six loaves of bread that may or may not taste good.

So I decided the best thing for me to do would be to ask you. I would love for our readers, to start sending in your favorite bread recipes.

If you don’t bake but can the items you harvest from your garden, send those recipes in as well because canning season will be upon us before too long.

I’d also love to hear from our quilters and crafters. Send in your ideas so that we can share them with our community.

You can send in photos to share of your quilts and crafts or take a picture of a recipe you made and share that with us! We’d love to hear from you.

You can send your recipes and ideas to CV&T c/o Megan PO Box 660, Irvine, KY 40336 or you can email them to me at cvtads@windstream.net.

I can’t wait to hear from you!

01-20-11

Columnist recounts a decade worth of memories

As we roll into the new year, I took a few minutes to reflect on the past 10 years. A decade, and the events that seem like they happened last week.

Preston, Andrew, Whitney, me and Daddy in '01.

It’s amazing how much can happen within those 10 years that can change your life completely.

In 2000, I was a freshman in high school who had to rely on my older (yes, Whitney is OLDER THAN ME) sister to drive me around.

In 2001 we found out that my dad had small cell lung cancer, 9-11 happened and life seemed to crawl by.

In 2002 my daddy passed away and I felt as though I lost a part of my heart. I was Daddy’s girl and everything changed after he died. Things still aren’t the same to this day without having Daddy around.

In 2003 my sister graduated high school and headed off to college and for the first time in my life, I had my very own room. I was excited for about a week and then it lost all it’s joy. We’d shared a room for almost 18 years and even though I haven’t admitted it until today, I missed her.

She won’t read this so I won’t have to worry about her holding this over my head. Sister rivalry and all.

Candace, Kayla, Jess and me at Graduation in '04.

In 2004 I graduated high school and the real world began.

Since 2005 and 2006 didn’t amount to much, because I didn’t amount to much, I’ll skip over those unmemorable events.

Except the fact that I moved to Michigan in 2006.

In January of 2007 I came back to Kentucky to visit my Poppy who was sick and in the hospital. While we were here visiting him, I was put in the hospital. I was given a less than 40 percent chance of making it through.

On the day that my Poppy passed away I started to pull through and it was a long recovery. Even though I miss him everyday, I know that he was my angel looking out for me.

My Poppy, James "Rabbit" Tipton.

Later on in 2007 my sister had my nephew William Allen and her life changed completely.

August 2008 changed my life in a completely different way. I married the love of my life Timmy, and nothing has been the same since.

My Granny Mary and nephew William.

Spring 2010 brought around another large blow to my family. We lost Granny Mary and my heart broke again. She was always there when I needed some advice, and trust me, she didn’t beat around the bush. She’d tell it to you straight.

And, on what would have been Granny’s 72nd birthday, my sister Whitney gave birth to my niece, Kenlee Marie and we all smiled a little bit more.

You may be wondering why I put all of these scatter brained memories together. The good memories along with the bad, and I’ll tell you why. Life isn’t all full of the good memories and moments. It’s made up of the sad ones as well. Full of the ones that knock you to your knees and make you doubt whether you can get back to your feet.

Eventually you manage to get back up. You are able to plant your feet on solid ground and take that first step. Standing beside you are the ones you love. Your family and your friends and your faith in God hold on to you and help you find your way.

All of these moments and all of these memories and challenges in life help to make us who we are today.

Lisa Baber told me something very wise the other day. She said, “My mother always said that ‘life is nothing but a memory, so make sure that each day is worth remembering.’”

Happy New Years and God Bless.

12-30-10

Falling for recipes

Its that time of year again. My favorite season, fall.

I just love it. Cool mornings, colorful leaves, pumpkins, mums, fodder shocks, scare crows... Well, I think you get my point.

My husband Tim loves this time of year as well. Hunting season kicks off in full force. Which makes me enjoy it so much more since he goes on a week long hunting trip at LBL (Land Between the Lakes) with all the men in his family. It’s my own vacation!

Fall means that school has started back, Friday nights are spent bundled up at football games and the holidays are all closer than we realized.

When the weather gets cool, I think everyone begins craving those fall flavors, pumpkin pies, and my specialty which is homemade apple pie.

My crust, made from scratch. I don’t like the prepackaged dough. Doesn’t have the same taste. The apples, ones that I have put up from the previous year. The recipe, a mixture of two or three different ones that I’ve combined to make my own.

And those few factors, they make the pie taste even better.

But this week I’m going to share a different recipe with you. While looking through old cook books and recipes I found one that is over 300 years old. The early settlers brought it with them when they settled in Kentucky. It was a cake for special occasions.


Appalachian Apple Stack Cake 


3 1/2 cups AP Flour

1tsp baking soda

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp ground ginger

1/2 tsp ground nutmeg

1/2 tsp salt


* Stir dry ingredients and blend well

In a separate bowl -

2 eggs (beaten lightly)

1 stick of soften butter

1/2 c. Brown Sugar


* Cream butter and brown sugar together then mix egg in. Add in

1 c. Sorghum Molasses or regular molasses


Mix these ingredients well. Add dry ingredients and alternate with 1 cup of buttermilk


Preheat oven 355º. Divide cake batter into 9 inch round pans. You need 5 cakes - thin. Grease your baking pans and dust with flour. Since they are going to thin layers.


Filling for between the layers

1lb dry apples

4 c. Apple Cider

2 c. Water


Add into a pan and bring to a boil. If you want your apples to taste jammy then add in 1/2 c. sugar.

Let cool before adding to cake.

Place one layer, add in filling, cake, filling, etc. You need to divide filling for 4 layers with a cake on the top.

Once made let your cake sit for 4 hours. The cake is dry and the filling will be absorbed into the cake and taste delicious.

Before you serve, make sure to dust your cake with confectioners sugar.

So, this weekend I’m going to make this recipe and I’ll take a picture to let you see the finished product. Everyone tells me this is a delicious cake. Most say it’s something they remember their grandma making. So, lets see how it turns it.

9-23-10

A touching letter from father to daughter

I am blessed. I have a wonderful family, a strong faith and the love of wonderful friends. Recently a real good friend of mine shared something very dear to her heart with me. Her father is very sick and any child who has a parent who is dying knows the pain of feeling helpless.

We only want to do what is best for those we love. We feel as if the time has come that they need us. Yet, we don’t want to be pushy.

So her father wrote her this letter and she shared it with me. I’d like to share it with you. I hope that it opens your heart and makes you think about your family and your time here on this earth.


A Father Needs His Children


I needed you when you were born.

You showed me there were more important things in life than myself.

Because of you I learned tenderness, caring, nurturing.

You made me responsible for my actions because they now affected more than just me.

I needed you when you were starting to grow and learning to walk.

I needed to see that look of trust in your eyes that I would catch you if you were to stumble and fall.

Your faith in me to do what was best. I needed you at the end of the day.

I knew no matter how badly the day went that a simple smile, a laugh, a “Daddy I love you” would make everything better.

I needed you to know that I would walk in front of you to protect you from whatever lay ahead.

I needed you when you entered the uncertain years of being a teenager.

A time of more questions than answers.

I needed you to test my resolve and faith in you so that I could show you I believed in you.

To show you that now I would walk beside you and that you are not alone.

That we would face, together, whatever came our way.

I needed you when you took your first steps into adulthood.

I needed you to see my look of pride.

To let you know that I now walked behind you to give you support and encouragement on the path that YOU chose.

To applaud your successes and if you were to stumble, to help you get back up, dust you off, and with a fatherly nudge, get you back onto your path.

I need you now in my later years when my health and age are taking their toll.

I need you to walk beside me in case I should stumble.

I need you to let me choose the direction my life will take.

To allow me to face whatever comes with dignity.

To allow me to do as much as I can for myself so I can maintain my self respect.

A time may come when you will have to decide for me, but it is not now.

I will need you when my days finally come to an end.

I will need you to be strong.

To mourn my passage, yes, but moreover to celebrate my having lived.

To hopefully remember fondly the times we spent together.

To smile at my all too human frailties.

To chuckle at my weak attempts at magic to amaze you.

My all-to-fatherly sense of humor.

To know that I have always loved you and if you need me you need only to close your eyes and think of me and I will be there for you.

Tara and her Daddy

Do I need my children, yes I do.

But then I always have. I always will.

All My Love,

Daddy

I read this and my heart aches for the love that this man has for his child. I feel blessed by her sharing this with me, and I hope that she knows how blessed she is to possess something of this caliber.

I would give anything to have something like this from my daddy, but even though I don’t have it in print like she does, I have his life lessons in my heart.

I hope that you have been blessed by this, and I hope that you, as parents, take a moment to sit down and let your children know why you need them. Let them know you love them and give them a special piece of your heart.

08-05-10