Shellie Rushing Tomlinson
Park it people, it's porch time! (You're right, I might've
overdid the alliteration, but you have to admit it got your
attention.) Seriously, it's good to see everyone; I'm getting
really attached to you folks.
Many of you keep asking for updates on my son Phillip, so
here's the short version. We're in the thick of district
play and his knee is holding up well. (Although our freezer
is having a time keeping up with the ice demands!) Just keep
us in your prayers...
That's not smeared makeup under my eyes, it's dark circles;
I've haven't slept so much since our last visit. The pace of
2002 has been a killer so far, but I'm having fun. All Things
Southern is growing and that's good! But right now, ATS is
a toddler and like any toddler, that can also be bad. She's into
everything and trying to do it all at one time--and I'm
exhausted. I think I'm ready for her maiden booth at the
AgExpo this weekend, but I can't shake the feeling that I've
forgotten something. (Oh, and if any of you readers are also
clients of Interiors, take heart, your custom goods are
a-coming. ~smile~)
Enjoy this week's e-mag, and remember, I love to hear from you.
Hugs,
Shellie
P.S. Please come see me this weekend if you're anywhere near
the AgExpo in Monroe, Louisiana. I'll be at the Civic Center
Arena in booth number 12!
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"Chuckles"
How many of us can remember being taken out of church as a
child to be disciplined? Yep! I, for one, can certainly
identify with this little fella.~ Shellie
"Intercession"
One Sunday in a small rural church, a young child was "acting
up" during the morning worship hour. The parents did their
best to maintain some sense of order in the pew but were losing
the battle.
Finally, the father picked the little fellow up and walked
sternly up the aisle. On his way out, just before reaching
the safety of the foyer, the little one called loudly to the
congregation, "Pray for me! Pray for me!"
(Special thanks to Susan Sovelius for this week's chuckle!)
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"A Taste of the South"
I tried this recipe out on some friends Saturday night. We
loved it! If you like things hot--it'll be a match for you, too.
JEZEBEL SAUCE
• 1 18.oz jar of pineapple preserves (I used apricot instead)
• 1 18.oz jar of apple jelly
• 1 small can dry mustard
• 1 small jar of horseradish (I didn't use the whole jar; I just
taste-tested as I added--until my eyes burned and I croaked for
water.~smile)
• Cracked pepper (again to taste)
Combine all ingredients; blend well. Put in jelly jar and
refrigerate. Serve over creme cheese with Wheat Thins or your
choice of cracker for dipping. Keeps well!
Hugs,
Shellie
~Thanks to Betty Halley for this great cracker spread!
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"Spotlight on the South"
SPOTLIGHT ON PAUL HARVEY
Paul Harvey was born and raised in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He has
entertained us for decades with "the rest of the story". You
can read more about Mr. Harvey and hear him speak at
http://www.paulharvey.com/bio.shtml.
Today, I'd like to shine our spotlight on one of his stories
that I think speaks to us here on the porch. A special thanks
to Dr. Jerry Edmondson from Monroe, Louisiana for sending it
my way.
"Dirt Roads"
What's mainly wrong with society today is that too many Dirt
Roads have been paved. There's not a problem in America
today - crime, drugs, education, divorce, delinquency - that
wouldn't be remedied if we just had more Dirt Roads. Dirt Roads
give character.
People that live at the end of Dirt Roads learn early on that
life is a bumpy ride. That it can jar you right down to your
teeth sometimes, but it's worth it, if at the end is home...a
loving spouse, happy kids and a dog. We wouldn't have near
the trouble with our educational system if our kids got
their exercise walking a Dirt Road with other kids, from whom
they learn how to get along.
There was less crime in our streets before they were paved.
Criminals didn't walk two dusty miles to rob or rape, if they
knew they'd be welcomed by 5 barking dogs and a double barrel
shotgun. And there were no drive by shootings. Our values were
better when our roads were worse!
People didn't worship their cars more than their kids, and
motorists were more courteous, they didn't tailgate by riding
the bumper or the guy in front would choke you with dust & bust
your windshield with rocks. Dirt Roads taught patience.
Dirt Roads were environmentally friendly. You didn't hop in
your car for a quart of milk-- you walked to the barn for your
milk. For your mail, you walked to the mailbox. What if it rained
and the Dirt Road got washed out? That was the best part, then
you stayed home and had some family time, roasted marshmallows
and popped popcorn and pony rode on Daddy's shoulders and learned
how to make prettier quilts than anybody. At the end of Dirt
Roads, you soon learned that bad words tasted like soap.
Most paved roads lead to trouble. Dirt Roads more likely lead
to a fishing creek or a swimming hole. At the end of a Dirt Road,
the only time we even locked our car was in August, because if we
didn't some neighbor would fill it with too much zucchini.
At the end of a Dirt Road, there was always extra springtime
income when city dudes came by and got stuck. You'd have to hitch
up a team and pull them out. Usually you got a dollar...always you
got a new friend...at the end of a Dirt Road!
~by Paul Harvey~
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0553259628/qid=1011228104/sr=8-1/allthingssout-20
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"It's Been Said..."
"The South--where roots, place, family, and tradition are the
essence of identity."
--Social historian Carl N. Degler
**************************************************************
Visit http://www.allthingssouthern.com/books.html for a FREE
chapter of my memoir, "LESSONS LEARNED ON BULL RUN ROAD".
(You can order online using your credit card--or you can snailmail,
email or fax the printable order form.) Don't forget to browse
the rest of the store!
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"Southern Comfort"
I was a container.
I contained the spirit of disobedience from birth.
At my invitation the Spirit of God came and expelled
my heritage from Adam and Eve.
I'm still a container.
I contain daily--by choice.
For the most part, I contain the Spirit of my Heavenly
Father, and it is good.
But I have to be careful with my container.
It's so apt to fill again with my old nature.
It's a gradual thing, it fills slowly.
Hurt lead to resentment, frustration leads to anger--
and the seeds of each sow their own kind.
Before I know it, my container is filthy.
It has to be washed out, cleaned and refilled
with my Father's Spirit.
~Shellie
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"Southern Exchange"
Hello from Texas,
Today is warm enuf to sit on the porch.....and I do it a lot
while reading. I want to tell you all about a book recommended
to me by ALL of the employees of historic Elliot's Book Store
in Seattle.
It is a "country" story which could have taken place in the
South told from the perspective of a 10-year-old boy relaying
handsomely a time in his family's life. Such insight into the
faith and adventures (including duck hunting) of these very real
people this author shows! As soon as I finished it, I turned
back to the front and started all over again; and now I'm
reading it aloud to my husband who is relishing it as much as
I did. The book is "Peace Like A River" by Leif Enger (I found
mine at Amazon.com at a discount).
Regards,
Almedia Babb Lueg
Arlington,Texas
Hello Readers,
Here's the link if you're looking for this book:
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/087113795X/qid=1011227552/sr=8-1/allthingssout-20
---------------
Hi from Florida,
I feel a moral obligation to try to straighten out any
misunderstandings about the difference between Northerner and
Yankee, as I have been both, as well as a Charlestonian, and
a Floridian, let me explain...
I was born in Indiana, lived also in Illinois and Ohio, and
Michigan, and as such was both a Northerner and a Midwesterner.
Later, I moved to upstate New York. (New York City residents
identify themselves as New Yorkers, period. Upstate New Yorkers
aren't even in the same state as far as they are concerned,
though this might have changed some since 9/11.)
Now, Southerners think all of the above are Yankees. And
for awhile, I did, too! But here is where it gets interesting.
When I moved to Rhode Island and Massachusetts, I found out I
had truly made it to Yankee country--as New Englanders would
be sure to point out! The name is derived from the Dutch for a
man named Jan (pronounced Yan) Kees. The moment one crosses the
border from New York State into New England, one is aware of the
difference; in geography, attitude, and accents. Now to Europeans
and Australians we are all Yankees, but they haven't spent time
in New England! Oh, before I forget-- I referred to myself earlier
as once being a Charlestonian. That's because Charleston hardly
recognizes the rest of South Carolina. The "Holy City" was settled
by New Englanders. Nuff said.
So, from now on, those of you in doubt, please refer to those
of us from above the Line as "Damned Northerners, except for
New York". Save the Yankee lines for New Englanders.
I hope I was able to help.
Ms. Duane Plummer, Northerner, Charlestonian, Midwesterner,
Hoosier, Floridian, Barely Southerner (lived in Maryland, too),
Yankee
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WHAT SOUTHERN MOMS TELL THEIR DAUGHTERS...
About hygiene: "Always wear clean underclothes, you never know
when you're going to be in an accident!" Do you remember your
southern mom's advice about love,marriage, relationships and
life in general? Then join the fun; this project is exploding!
Write me at tomtom@allthingssouthern.com to have your mom's
advice memorialized in my new book: WHAT SOUTHERN MOMS TELL
THEIR DAUGHTERS...
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Please forward ALL THINGS SOUTHERN to your friends and family!
(You can also email them the parent site by going to
http://www.allthingssouthern.com and clicking on the link that
says "email this site to a friend.")
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