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Archive for the ‘Memories’ Category

Words fail me and tears flow and I’m not even trying to stop them. Bro. James Kilgore & Ima Kilgore have always been in my life for as long as I can remember. I love reading all the posts of what Bro. Kilgore meant to so many people. We all feel like we was his favorite. 😊 It takes someone pretty great to do that.

When I was growing up the Kilgore’s were highly admired and respected in our home. When Bro. Kilgore visited, it was as if The Lord was walking into our home. At one point in my teenage years Bro. Kilgore spoke words into my life that I have carried with me since that night. There have been those simple yet powerful messages that put me in the altar, on my face, asking God to please help me and give me a burden for souls and love for people like Bro. Kilgore. The warm handshake. The gentle hug. The firm, “Sis. Ronda…”(wouldn’t you like to know). 😊

When Bro. Kilgore became our superintendent in the Texas district you can imagine my delight when Sis. Kilgore asked me to be the organist for Ladies conference. I played those years along side Jeanetta Orange on keys. We had some great times. Sis. Kilgore had a certain way she wanted the music for those conferences and we did our best to make it to her liking. Bro. Kilgore asked me to play the organ for him on numerous occasions at camp meeting & conferences and I was always a little nervous but he was a gem to work with. However, (this is just a little funny) one year he had preached a beautiful message on unity and the man that was leading music for that particular service got up and began to sing the Sunday School song, “when we all pull together”. Bro. Kilgore was NOT very happy about that selection and came to me and said, “Ronda! This song is not right”. I quickly told him I sure didn’t choose it and he said, “I don’t care. Change it, now”! Yes sir! I did and did it gladly. We went on to have a wonderful alter service but whew! We laughed about it later but at that moment I wanted to crawl under the organ and I could have killed the man that put me in that position. On another note, I loved how he would go to the pulpit and begin to sing, “What a day that will be”. Won’t it be wonderful there”, “Jesus is the sweetest name I know”, and many other songs like these. Those were the most precious times for me as an organist. I will cherish these memories forever.

I could go on and on with memory after memory of Bro. & Sis. Kilgore, but I’m just one person in a sea of people with memories of great people. What a giant of a man he was. You are missed already, Bro. Kilgore and will be missed until we meet again. Tell Mother & Daddy that I press on in apostolic doctrine and identity and I will meet them in front of the throne, soon!
Rest in Peace my dear Bro. Kilgore.

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I know my title sounds a little odd.  Let me explain.

When I was a little girl, growing up, Mother would load us up in the car every once in awhile and take us down to Bloomington (California) from Fresno to see Grandma and Grandpa Pound and all the uncles, aunts and cousins.  I loved to play around their house, in the yard and if we could get by with it in the sand pile and on the pipes of Grandpa’s business.  However, if we ever got caught (which we did often) we got in big trouble either from Grandpa or Uncle James, Uncle C.W.,  or one of the crew that worked for Grandpa.  Inevitably, one of us kids would get “hurt”.  You know, scrape a knee or get a small cut on a finger or arm.  That was one of the reasons Grandpa didn’t want us playing on or around his equipment.  We loved to climb on the big trucks, etc.  Back to my story….When one of us got hurt and we would run to the house, crying and asking for help, after Grandma saw that we wasn’t  hurt that bad she would always say, “Well, that wouldn’t hurt on my eyeball”.  She would always make us laugh and forget about our little scrape.

A few days ago, I spilled a cup of HOT coffee on my arm and my poor husband thought I had been shot or something really horrible had happened,  by the way I screamed and bounced around saying, “Oh! OW!  JEEEE—SUS!”  and on and on.  He tried to help me by saying, “Oh, I’m so sorry.  Run it under cold water, etc”.  Poor guy didn’t know what to do.  We both thought for sure it would blister and be red and burnt for days.  However, the next day, I looked at it and it looked just like a little scrape.  Nathan looked at it and tried to remain sympathetic but I could tell by the look on his face (he’s not good at hiding his feelings) that he couldn’t understand what all the screaming had been about the previous day. That’s when I just started laughing, almost uncontrollably, all the while trying to tell him what I was laughing at.  That look on his face took me back to much younger days, when I would see that same look on Grandma Pound’s face and she would say, “Well, that wouldn’t hurt on my eyeball”.  🙂

I know I could take this post and make something much more philosophical and maybe even spiritual (grow up already, in the Kingdom of God).  But, I just wanted to share a little Ruby Pound-ism with you and hopefully make you smile.  There was only one Ruby Pound and every once in awhile I feel her “spirit” get on me.  She was quite a character and I’m glad I had her as a grandmother.  She made me laugh more times than I could ever count.

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Has it really been thirty three years?  I still feel like I’m that young blushing bride.  I was so excited for this day to come, 33 years ago.  As I was waiting to hear the organ play the introduction to the song I marched down the aisle on, “Here Comes Heaven”, I remember Daddy asking me, “Are you sure about this?  Are you sure you love Nathan enough to live with him the rest of your life”?  I looked him straight in the eye and said, “I’m sure”.  Little did I know at that time how much love can grow.  Looking back, our love for each other that day was nothing compared to what it is now.  All the things you go through together makes love grow deep.  One of the songs sung at our wedding was “Walk Through This World With Me” and that is what we have done.  We have walked together, flown high sometimes, crawled and sometimes just had to stand still, but we’ve had each other.  I’m thankful for the journey and I am looking forward to the future with the man of my dreams.

Our Wedding Party: September 2, 1977

Our Wedding Day September 2, 1977

On our Honeymoon, September 1977

Us Now!

Our Family: August 2, 2010

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This article in the Washington Post (By Jane Black Washington Post Staff Writer) answers a question I’ve had all summer…What happened to watermelons with seeds? I have had discussions with people about this. 🙂  I don’t like the seedless variety.  They are not as sweet!  Oh! Why do people have to mess with something so good? 

I have not printed the whole article, just a few snippets.

The iconic, black-studded watermelon wedge appears destined to become a slice of vanished Americana. If that sounds alarmist, try to remember the last time you had to spit out a grape seed.

Still, as the end of summer looms, I can’t help but mourn the inevitable disappearance of the black-dotted red watermelon. In part, it is a wistfulness for a classic American fruit and its traditions. Without seeds, there can be no seed-spitting contests such as the one in Luling, Tex., home to an iconic watermelon water tower, or the one in Pardeeville, Wis., where the rules are strictly enforced: No professional tobacco spitters. Denture wearers must abide by the judge’s decision if their teeth go farther than the seed.

Though there is some debate about it, the flavor of old-time watermelons might also be in jeopardy. And what a flavor to lose! In “Pudd’nhead Wilson,” Mark Twain described the true Southern watermelon as “a boon apart . . . when one has tasted it, he knows what the angels eat.” Convenience, whether it’s a smaller size, a fruit without seeds or year-round availability, always seems to extract a price. And if that sounds alarmist, try to remember the last great tomato you bought at a supermarket.

I see the trend at local grocery stores. I haven’t found any seeded melons at my local Safeway this summer or at the nearby Whole Foods Market, though a staff member there told me that they sometimes carry organic watermelons with seeds.

The most reliable place to find old-school watermelons is the farmers market. That is not because of any bias in favor of old-fashioned varieties. It’s because seedless watermelons are more difficult and expensive to grow. Their seeds are most successful when germinated in a greenhouse rather than outdoors, and farmers must buy hybrid seeds for the pollinator plants. More than half of the watermelons grown at Montross, Va.-based Garner Produce, a regular at Washington markets, are seeded. At Spring Valley Farm and Orchard in Morgan, W.Va., 60 percent of the melons have seeds. “It’s easier,” said Joe Heischman, a co-manager of the farm. “But I think the seeded ones also taste better. When we put out samples of both, people always say the seeded ones are sweeter.”

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Childhood Memories

Need a break from the ‘grown-up’ life for a few minutes?  Peruse the images below and go back. 🙂  If you remember some or all of these, you have lived!

Marlin Perkins 2 Marlin Perkins

download_002BurmaShave Signs

download_004 Lincoln Logs

download_003Flash Bulbs

download_005 Reel to Reel Tape Recorders download_006The Fuller Brush Mandownload_007 5 Cent Cokes

download_011Chatty Cathydownload_008Brylcreem

download_010Topo Gigio

download_015 Beany and Cecil download_012Car Hops and Curb Service  download_019Sky King

download_013 Cork Pop Guns  download_021 Jiffy Pop (Popcorn)

download_014 Green Stamps  download_023Washtub Wringers

download_016 Gum Wrapper Chains download_029Aluminum Christmas Treesdownload_017 TV Test Patterns   download_030 Old Yeller

download_022Fire Escape Tubes  download_02815 cent Hamburgersdownload_020Speedy Alka-Seltzerdownload_024Timmy and Lassiedownload_026Studebaker’sdownload_02725 cent a Gallon gasolinedownload_032Brownie Camera

 download_03345 rpm spindles

download_035 Metal Ice cube trays  download_041Tinkertoys

download_0405 cent Postagedownload_034Ding Dong, Avon Callingdownload_036Chef Boy-Ar-Deedownload_0385cent Packs Baseball Cardsdownload_037Roller Skate Keys

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Today I was taken back many years ago, to when I was just a little girl as Linda, Danelle and myself sang around the piano.  Linda began to play as I was preparing  potatoes to be put in the oven to bake.  Danelle came in and she immediately migrated to the piano with Aunt Linda.  She loves the old songs.  I soon made my way in there too and we sang and sang and sang.  Songs like,  “A Crown of Thorns”, “Inside Those Pearly Gates”, “Longing for Heaven”, “When I Inherit My Mansion”,  “The Next Step”, “Meet Me in Front of the Throne”, and my favorite of the day was “Lord, When Are you Coming”.  Linda and I actually got teary eyed as we remembered Mother and Daddy singing this song. Oh!  How they would sing…”Lord, when are you coming?  Lord, I’ve waited so long.  Come and get me Jesus.  Lord, I want to go home”.  I remember crying as a girl as they sang because it made me want to go to heaven so much.  Linda and I began to talk when we finished singing, about how our parents sang so many songs about Heaven.  It really seemed to make the things of this world grow dim.  I wonder sometimes if we would sing more songs and talk more about going to Heaven, if the troubles we seem to be facing in our day and age would not also dim in comparison to the promise of Heaven.  I think it would, because it did today.  I would have been very happy had the trumpet sounded as we sang around the piano today.  There was not a care in the world at that point. Because, my mind was imagining being there, in the presence of God, reunited with my family and friends, walking on streets of gold, seeing walls of jasper and gates of pearl, wading in the river of life and standing in front of throne, meeting with so many people that I’ve promised to meet there.  Ah! “Heaven!  Happy home above.  Heaven!  Land of peace and love.  Oh!  It makes me feel like traveling on.  Heaven!  Eternal.  Heaven! Supernal….”

Come on!  Lay down your burdens for just a few minutes and think about, sing about and talk about Heaven!  It will make things here not quite so consuming.  Lay aside the worry for awhile and think with me, “It will be worth it all when we see Jesus”.  Take a moment and forget about everything else, except the most important thing, and that is making Heaven our home.  Lay it all aside for a little while and sing with me, “Come and get me Jesus!  Lord,  I want to go Home”. 

Even so, Come, Lord Jesus!

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BLT

Okay, So this morning for some reason I am missing my mother terribly. How do you explain it? I don’t know. Instead of sitting around and getting remorseful I thought, what would mother eat right now if she was here with me. Since I was hungry I guess that’s why I thought that. 🙂 I headed to the kitchen to see what was available and there it was. Bacon, bread, tomato, lettuce, cheese, pickles and corn chips.  Mother loved a good BLT sandwich. I proceeded to make myself an incredible BLT and ate a pickle and corn chips with it. The only difference was I drank a Diet Coke.  Mother would have drank a Diet Dr. Pepper. 🙂 Why you can miss someone so intensely after so many years (7), I’ll never know. I just know that you never get over losing a loved one. You just learn how to cope and that’s what I did today. It may sound funny, but it made me feel better. 🙂

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