In June, I had the treat — the blessing — of helping with Vacation Bible School at my church, Beebe First United Methodist. This is something I had not done for ten years, but obviously, it’s like riding a bicycle — you never forget how to do it.

Often, in a small town, children attend their own Bible School, but also visit other churches’ summer events around town, thus making each VBS a community happening. Although our Sunday School numbers are not what they were pre-pandemic, we had over 100 children each day (ages 4 years to 6th grade) take part in the activities.

The theme for the week was about being heroes and what God might call heroes to do. “Heroes are called to follow Jesus.” “… to help others.” “… to work together.” “…to show grace.”

I’m not a physically able person any more, but I was asked to help with the “actors,” a group of teen helpers who performed a skit each session based on the Bible story for the day. We dressed in robes (made for magi and shepherds appearing in pageants during Christmases past), performed for each grade level independently, then the teacher led them in a discussion of the story, focusing on what a follower of Jesus would do in such a situation.

I played a small part each day, Moses’ mother dropping him into the Nile River, a dissenter plotting to do away with Paul. Fortunately, young children suspend disbelief easily.

After our stellar performance and their discussion, each group was off to the next adventure, maybe to experience handcrafts — making a hero’s cape or a belt with a ‘gold’ medallion for a buckle. Or perhaps take time to write on the prayer wall before having game time or refreshments, ending each day with music and fellowship in the sanctuary. The music was loud and bouncy, giving everyone a chance to work out what little energy they might have left.

Our main scripture for the week, one we all committed to memory, was: Let us strive for those things that bring peace and for the things that build each other up. (Romans 14:19)

A verse everyone on earth should memorize and learn to live by.

I’m a child of the depression, born the year FDR became President and things began to ease up a bit, but still influenced by “hard times.” A stay-at-home mom with a houseful of kids, my mother learned well how to manage and make do.

My parents owned only two refrigerators during their 57 years of marriage. “If it ain’t broke, no need to replace it” seemed to be their motto. Other appliances, pots and pans, and household utensils stayed around forever.

Mother had a pair of silver-looking scissors. These were to be used for sewing — cutting cloth — exclusively. Thou shalt not cut paper dolls with Mother’s good scissors. As a child, I remember a man coming around to the house offering to sharpen scissors and knives. A very useful service. Nowadays, I doubt the scissors we buy can be sharpened when they become dull. We either throw them away or put them in the kitchen junk drawer, never to be used again.

Appliances today are made with “planned obsolescence.” They are meant to last for a certain number of hours, then they stop working. It’s less expensive to replace than to repair them. Our landfills are full of toasters, microwaves, blenders, and computers.

My mother would have loved to recycle, had she lived to see that effort come about. During World War II she saved newspapers for the Scouts, and cans and tin foil for the war effort.

Once a woman came by our house and asked Mother to save scraps for her pigs. If Mother would put garbage in a can by the back fence, the woman would come around with her cart and collect it for her pigs.

Mother was happy to do it. She would not waste a morsel of food as long as there was a hungry hog in the county.

Three years ago, I unceremoniously abandoned this blog. I just stopped writing. We all thought that during a quarantine there should be endless time to write. But, for me, it didn’t work that way.

My writing, this blog, has always been about what’s going on around me and how I feel about it. My take on the things I see and do. But, in 2020, I did not want to write about the pandemic. I felt like I was one of the few people who admittedly didn’t know what to do about it. No one needed or wanted to read my useless opinion.

I’m writing again, even though there is still not much pleasant happenings to write about. Several upsetting events occurred just recently. Another school shooting, deadly tornados in Arkansas, Razorbacks lost, our nation seriously divided, folks spewing hate all over the internet.

What can I write about? Maybe the bravery of the Nashville Metro Police as they charged into the school with “Go, go, go,” never stopping until they found the shooter. Or the hundreds of volunteers stepping up to help neighbors clean up after the recent storms. The churches and agencies who were on the spot immediately. Not just the non-profits whose mission is dealing in disasters, but private businesses bringing food, water and other supplies —  inflation and the bottom line forgotten as they gave back to their community.

Then, last Sunday morning, I sat and watched the children march through the church waving palm branches, reenacting Jesus entry into Jerusalem. They were so serious (some of them) and so glad to be a part of the worship service.

Okay, that’s it. That’s what I’ll write about here. The good things I experience. The funny happenings. Maybe, occasionally, inspirational.

Anyway, I’m back.

It’s here again. The season between Halloween and Christmas. Which over the years has become a  rather contentious time. Our nation, thanks to social media giving everyone a platform to air their complaints, has become rather quarrelsome.

Each year, immediately after All Hallows Eve, and often before, the stores begin to display Christmas decorations and gift items. The response to this ranges between rage and shopping mania.

The former group seems to resent the rush to Christmas, thinking we will neglect the traditional Thanksgiving holiday.  They feel the world should not begin to experience Christmas until Thanksgiving Day is over.

The latter group begins their usual this-time-of-year buying frenzy. The merchants respond by introducing “Black Friday” earlier and earlier in the season. Black Friday once referred to the day after Thanksgiving when  Christmas sales began. This year, this event will begin around the  middle of the month.

And on social media, we see the eager-for-the-holidays group becoming braver, decorating trees and houses and posting pictures for the world to see. “I’m ready for Christmas and I don’t care who knows it.”

This made me think of a post on this site a few years ago entitled The Taming of the Scrooge.

One morning, after a really bad night, Ebenezer Scrooge said, “I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year through.”

That means that while hunting Easter eggs, popping firecrackers, trick or treating, or even during Thanksgiving dinner, he would experience the joy, love, and wonder that is Christmas.

He would look at the cross at sunrise on Easter morning and think, “Yes, this is what it’s all about.” He would celebrate the birth of our country knowing that God alone gives us real freedom. He would enjoy the happiness and excitement of the children on Halloween, remembering the saints who have gone before us.

I doubt he would be so determined to observe Thanksgiving Day before having anything to do with Christmas that he would stomp into the holiday season with a chip on his shoulder.

He might love it that the merchants in town began early in the season to remind us to prepare for the coming of the Christ Child.

Keeping Christmas all year long. That is really a good idea.

I’m thinking of a song from a few years ago, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.”

Wow. Wouldn’t you love to do that? Don’t you wish someone today would actually encourage us to have a positive attitude about the world we live in?

But, no. We are encouraged  to worry. We’re told we should worry — about the upcoming election, the pandemic, racism in our country, the environment, the future, fires and hurricanes, and on and on and on.  If we are not actively worrying about these things and constantly posting, liking, sharing on social media there is something wrong with us and somehow we’re not doing our part.

Our entertainment venues are closed, so we turn to the media and watch 24-hour news. We stream the current releases, whose storylines seem to follow all of the above.  The late night ‘comedians’ only regurgitate what we have already heard all day.

We need a break. We need to find a way to lighten up a bit.

In 1918, during the flu pandemic, most theaters and vaudeville houses were closed. But folks found humor in the comic strips: Katzenjammer Kids, Mutt and Jeff, and Krazy Kat.  The Great Depression brought us some of the most delightful lighthearted movies that are classics now: It Happened One Night, The Marx Brothers, The Wizard of Oz.  Red Skelton, Abbott and Costello, and Bob Hope saw us through World War II.

The entertainment industry is missing the 2020 boat.

But we can find our own enjoyment. Turn off the news. Reach out and touch — if only virtually or electronically. Call a friend and determine to NOT talk about current events. Talk about past fun times, talk about your kids or grandkids, talk about the weather. Write a note to someone. Imagine their surprise when they get a piece of mail that’s not a bill or junk. Watch a feel-good movie.  Look through your collection of DVDs.  You can stream Sleepless in Seattle, When Harry Met Sally, or You’ve Got Mail. 

Write Matthew 6:33, (Don’t Worry About Tomorrow) on a 3×5 card — or on an 8½x11 sheet of paper if you need to — and put it on your fridge door, bathroom mirror, television set.

God’s got this. Don’t worry. Be happy.

Before I retired I always looked forward to Saturday, a day usually free of obligations or schedules. Although I am very comfortable with schedules,  I do enjoy the occasional un-scheduled time. Now, post retirement, most of my days are scheduled by me, open to tweaking.

Before June 30, 2020, my most frequently asked question was, “When are you going to retire?”  I was, after all, 20 past being eligible for Social Security. Now the FAQ is “What are you doing since you retired?” or “Are you enjoying retirement?” or “How is retirement?”

The answers are: “Lots of things” “Yes” and “Not what I expected.”

During the last years of my working career, when I thought about what retirement would look l like for me, I expected to spend more time with my friends, go to Bingo each Friday, visit folks who are home bound, read and write more, make pictures albums.  I didn’t plan to spend so much time at home.

But, I’m convinced that is temporary and for now it’s okay. I enjoy the reading and writing I’ve accomplished. I’ve shredded documents that have been stored in the top of the closet since 2000. I have taken two trunk loads to Goodwill.  If I have a sleepless night, no problem. No alarm is set to wake me the next morning.

I have NOT become involved in daytime television. I turn on the TV at 4:30 to watch Jeopardy, after that a little of the local news until I don’t want to listen any more. With the help of Netflix, Prime, and CBS All Access, I have discovered many shows I missed the first time around.

Only one day have I worn PJs all day … almost. After several hours of writing, I took a shower and dressed before sitting down with Alex Trebek.

This past Saturday (in real time) was the annual White County Creative Writers Conference, always a highlight in my year. We weren’t sure we’d make it this year but it happened with all the safety precautions in place and I had the fun of being Contest Chair and handing out awards.

Back to the weeks with 6 Saturdays and one Sunday. What project will I find to occupy my time?

It was a great honor to be inducted into the Arkansas Writers Hall of Fame on Saturday, August 1, 2020.

Thank you, again, to the Arkansas Pioneer Branch of the National League of American Pen Women for this awesome honor.

Thanks also to the Pen Women for hosting the Arkansas Writers Conference each year for the past 76 years. The goal for the event when it was first conceived was to provide learning and networking for writers of all levels. It certainly fulfills it mission.

Here is the video of my  acceptance speech.

Heard on the 5:00 news: Someone has invented a soft, pink, pad to fit the icy, steel plate on the mammogram machine. The intent is to lessen the discomfort a patient (woman) might experience when taking the test.

Whoop-de-doo! After 50 years of using this instrument of torture, science has come up with an idea to make it easier on us. The technician being interviewed said some women might actually avoid their annual check-up because they are afraid of experiencing pain.

While I think it’s great to minimize the trauma of this procedure, most women are fairly familiar with discomfort. Can you say endometriosis? Or menstrual cramps? Child birth? Not to mention nursing a baby who is teething.

But, I guess that little pink pad is a step in the right direction.

About 30 years ago, I was scheduled for a needle biopsy. I arrived at outpatient registration about 8:00 a.m. — fasting. AKA no morning coffee. Three hours later, still fasting, I was taken to the lab for a pre-biopsy mammogram.

I had a raging caffeine-withdrawal headache and the technician seemed unfamiliar with her surroundings. I stood in front of the machine and “leaned in,” the best position for a good picture.

As my bare body touched the plate which had probably just come from the freezer, I felt a familiar aura.

“I’m going to faint,” I told the technician.

“Wait a minute,” she said.

Wait a minute? This is not a good time for you?

Sorry, I could not wait. When I woke on the floor, she was asking if we might try again. Success on the second try.

The fluid in the cyst was “suspicious,” which called for a lumpectomy. I consider that I survived a close call.

So, go ahead, women. Get that yearly check-up.

They have a soft, pink pad waiting for you.