Small Town Shout Out: Bejeweled

Like most girly girls, I love jewelry….rings and necklaces being my go-to.  Earrings, I’m just too lazy to switch out frequently.  Bracelets, bother me when I’m typing.  So rings and necklaces are my must-haves.  

The before and after.  Neither photo does it justice.  But I am in love with the new setting.

In 2011, my mom bought me this beautiful London Blue Topaz ring. When we went to get it resized, it came back with a stain on the band. I’ve had it cleaned a few times, and the stain has always just been there. Now, it was not huge, and probably wouldn’t have bothered most people. But every time I looked at it, it bothered me. People would complement it; the stone was gorgeous. But every time I looked at it, I noticed the spot on the band.

This year, I thought, “I’ve not been happy with it for years now…I’m going to have it re-set.”

Now, along with have a mild aversion to commitment, I, Aleta Kaylee, also have trust issues. I don’t trust just anyone. And after having a jeweler ruin a genuine ruby ring that my dad gave my mom, that goes especially for jewelers. You know, sometimes it’s not even about the cost of something that matters the most, but the sentimentality of the item. If something is precious to me, I want to rest assured that someone is going to take good care of it.

I have had Bejeweled work on my antique emerald ring, and they have always done a wonderful job. Honestly, I would trust no one else. 

My pictures of the before and after are not great. But I could not be happier with the outcome. They did a wonderful job, and I am in love with it.

Gone Junkin'

Me and my lovely Mama

One of the downfalls in adulthood is the fact that your weekends are rarely ever restful. Or, at least, mine aren’t. If you know me at all, you know I’m very much a creature of habit. Every Sunday, I dedicate to doing laundry. Rarely will I do a load of laundry mid-week, I will wait until Sunday, and I will do all of the Sheffield laundry. Don’t hit me up to do something spur of the moment on Sunday…because ain’t nobody got time for that.

But this post isn’t about laundry. 

I’m finding that every single weekend, we end up having plans. Now, I like staying busy…don’t get me wrong. But lately, I’ve been feeling like we’ve had so many obligations, I was beginning to feel bogged down. It left me ready to throw my hands in the air and say “I just need a day. I just need a day to myself to do what I want to do. To relax, to unwind…I just need a day.”

Something my mom and I enjoy doing, and we don’t get to do it as frequently as we would like, is to go junkin’. Now, for those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, it’s basically to go to antique stores, to thrift stores, to find what you can find. Sometimes, you’ll spend the whole day and not find anything. And then sometimes, you’ll find the treasure that you’ve been looking for. Ex: I am ALWAYS on the lookout for a pewter pitcher.

I'm so disappointed in the glare on this photo.  I fell in love with this old phone.

But on the rare occasion that Mom and I are able to go…we typically head south on 19. We may end up stopping and turning around in Homosassa. Or we’ve even gone down, South of Hudson, just perusing all of the little shops.

Last week, I asked mom “Do we have anything next weekend?” (We’ve literally had something every weekend since the beginning of the year…sometimes having 3 or 4 things in a weekend). She didn’t think so…I quickly said “Then we’re going junkin’….I need to go junkin.’”

So this past Saturday, Mom and I loaded up, and headed South.  We went down as far as Port Richey.  We ate at "Catches," which was delicious.  We both had a Hawaiian Chicken Sandwich, that was covered in Thai Sweet and Sour Sauce and swiss cheese, with a pineapple ring on top.  It was delicious.

We found a few treasures:  A beautiful vintage apron, a pewter serving charger, a painted trifle bowl, and a few other things.  We stopped in Hudson, shopped a little bit in some shops.

Truthfully, more than the items that we found, or the shopping...it was just so nice to be able to spend a carefree day with my mama.

The wonderful Cynthia Kay

Not so Wordless Wednesday: Tellin' Tales

Isn’t this a cute photo of my parents?

So, I had the best parents and the very best childhood one could ask for growing up. Now, of course, we had some snafus…who doesn’t. Accidents DO happen from time to time. It’s like that old Bucky Covington song… “It was a different world.” 

Well, Cynthia Kay is always tellin’ tales on me, so I figured I’d tell a funny story about her. When I was little, my parents got me a trampoline, and of course, this was before the netting around them. She would always tell me “Aleta, only jump in the middle, I don’t want you to fall off and get hurt."

So, when I was about four, there I was… Jumping in the middle, like she’d told me. And she was standing by the side of it, keeping a watchful eye on me. After an afternoon of jumping, it was time to come in. She told me to come over to her. So, over to her I hopped. She reached out her arms for me. I hopped right by the edge, by where she was standing. She still had her arms stretched out, when over her head I went…and face planted on the ground.

Lesson learned: Accidents DO happen…to the best of parents. Lol.

What can I say?  I survived to jump another day.

Mama Says Monday…on Tuesday: Pampering, Pedicures and Karter Lee

Karter Lee

In the last few years, one of my indulgences has been a pedicure. My ingrown toenails are taken care of, I get a little pampering, and my little piggies look great! It's a win-win and totally worth my extravagance. All of this to say, in our household of females, even the dog gets a toenail treatment.

Karter Lee is our very laid-back, lazy Chocolate Lab. At home, you can be assured that Karter Lee's main objective in life is to lay crossways whatever path you want to take in the house. She lays across the hallway, across the doorway between the living room and dining room…Anywhere to make me step over her. And the command "Move, Karter!" means absolutely nothing. In fact, one would think that we own a deaf dog. We can let her out to potty, and she loiters about the yard, ignoring all our please to "Hurry, Karter!" or "Come on, Karter!" All the neighbors for miles around can hear us calling, but she walks around like she doesn't hear you. (She acts a lot like my kids, now that I think about it). I think it's called "selective hearing." I know that there is absolutely nothing wrong with her hearing because she can be in the back bedroom and I can whisper the word "cheese" and she will come running, stand at the refrigerator door and look at me expectantly.

Any way, back to Karter's pedicures…They only involve having them clip her nails at the vet's office. Now, one of Karter Lee's hangups is her feet. She could live the rest of her life with no one touching them. She hates having anyone messing with her feet, and always has. She is not bad, doesn't bite, but she will snatch her feet away from you in a flash.

Karter Lee's trip to the vet has to be carefully planned. Aleta and I have to coordinate our schedules, make sure both of us will be available. She will then call and schedule it--generally for a Friday--but always at 5 p.m. It has to be late, so most of their other clients are gone. Did I mention that Karter is a very laid-back dog? That holds true for everything but a trip to the Vet's office. Aleta and I have to trade cars, because I don't like Karter shedding in my car. I drive Karter from the house to the Vet's office and Aleta meets us there. All the way, Karter is breathing down my neck, getting excited in the back. She just knows she is going to the vet. Once at the office, Karter and I stay in the car, and Aleta goes in to alert them that we are there. We do not just march inside with the Karter Lee. Once we go inside those doors, our laid-back dog goes sprayed-roach crazy. Again, not mean, just into a crazy hyper mode, dragging us on her leash all around the room, darting everywhere, checking out everything. This includes any other animals and their owners, trying to make new friends. Unfortunately, her out-of-control behavior scares other owners, who grab their animals protectively, especially the cats. It would be funny, because Karter loves cats and never acts aggressively towards them. But when someone sees an 85 pound dog, dragging her owner, coming at them…naturally, it upsets them. So, we have learned to reamin in the car, so we don't scare anyone.

The Vet Tech comes out for us when they have a room ready. We hurry through the door, over to the scale (Karter is really proud of her 85 lbs), and then quickly into the room.

At this point, most of my involvement is over. In comes two Vet Techs. Have I mentioned 85 lbs of super hyper canine energy? Aleta is on the floor, holding down the dog. One Vet Tech is holding a leg, and the other Tech has a foot and the nail clippers. And the wrestling match begins. On one hand, you have 85 lbs of twisting, turning, leg-jerking animal, and on the other you have 3 very determined women. I must say, it is more fun to watch than to participate. Those Vet Techs are wonderful! They know Karter Lee's craziness, and seem to love her anyway.

Once the wrestling match is over (Four feet means 4 times the fun!) Aleta will rush her back out to the car, and Karter Lee heads home.

Aleta and I are ready to get home, climb into our pajamas, and call it quits! We have had our workout for the week. Did I mention that we try to schedule this for Friday afternoon? That way, we have the whole weekend to recover!!

God bless those Vet Techs! I asked them if they had any other dogs that were as wild as Karter Lee. One of them said "Oh yes. In fact, we have to sedate my dog in order to clip her nails!" I think the joke is on us! Who knew that was even an option??

Until next week,
Cynthia Kay

Girls Who Get Distracted By Shiny Things

**Author's Note:  My Mama has been running around like a chicken with her head cut off.  She had been running all weekend and didn't have a chance to write Mama Says Monday...but she hopes to have it for tomorrow.  I am sharing one of my Facebooks writings from January with y'all because it's still very relevant.**

Girls Who Get Distracted By Shiny Things

I am writing this as one of those girls. 

When I first got my emerald and diamond ring, I was driving down the road admiring how it glimmered in the sunlight…and I drove off of the road and nearly wrecked my car. No lie. I am easily distracted by sparkly, shiny things.

Now, I have sat on this post for about a week. Trying to gather my thoughts and words…So…here goes.

You see…I was having a conversation with a girl recently, and she was telling me about the things going on in her life. She told me that she had been seeing someone and that she felt an engagement was on the horizon. What has stuck with me, though, has been how flippant her attitude was about the guy…and how she seemed more infatuated with the idea of the engagement and wedding. 

Please realize, this blog post is from a single, never-married, possible future cat-loving spinster. BUT... I was blessed with parents who gave me great insight into a wonderful, sustaining marriage.

Had you asked me at 13, I would have wanted a princess-like wedding, with all of the pomp and circumstance, alongside my 15 bridesmaids, marrying prince charming. If you ask me at 30…well, the picture I would paint would be drastically different. I would much rather have Courthouse nuptials without all of the hoopla…and save that money for a downpayment on a house, or put it towards a nice honeymoon and a good savings account. Romantic, I know. (Disclaimer: Even if I were to get married at the Courthouse, or elope, I WOULD spend money on three things: a pretty dress, photos, and a honeymoon. I am not completely void of romantic notions).

In all fairness, I have been to some beautiful weddings. But so frequently, more focus gets put on entertaining the guests, and is taken off of the celebration of love, the seriousness of the vows, and two people wanting to share a life together. 

So many times girls can’t see past the big, flashy ring; their 47,000 pinterest wedding ideas; or the cupcakey-Cinderella dress with 45 layers of tulle that has been calling their name since the age of 17…and they fail to realize that a wedding leads to marriage. 

After the bouquet has been tossed, the garter has been caught, and the jingle of the cans tied to the back of the car are just a faint sound in the distance…The wedding-goers that you sought so hard to entertain are gone…and it is ultimately just you and him.

The priority does not need to be checking off “engaged” and “married” as you would check off items on a grocery list. The priority should be making sure that your husband is the one that you want to spend the rest of your life with…that you can work through problems together…that you’re both in it for the long haul.

Again, written from a single girl’s perspective, marriage has the potential to be one of the most rewarding gifts in this life. But it isn’t something to be taken so lightly.

Sunday Obsession: Aprons

Photo taken from countryliving.com

I am bad to get on “a kick,” y’all. I go on these little stints of becoming obsessed with a certain item and buying several of them. It’s been cloth headbands, it’s been spoon necklaces, it’s been chunky bead necklaces (all of which I still wear, mind you). But the obsession I’d like to talk about today is my apron collection.

Do I cook? No. Do I bake frequently anymore? No. However, I have an apron collection that would put the likes of June Cleaver to shame. I love an apron.

What’s funny about this is…a majority of my aprons I won’t actually wear. Why, you ask? They’re just too pretty, and I don’t want to get them dirty. Therefore, making an apron’s usefulness useless.

A few years back, Down Home Gilchrist was carrying aprons made from men’s button-up shirts. I hadn’t thought much of it until I saw Carrie wearing a baby blue one, paired with a pearl necklace at Christmas on Main Street. Let me just say, it was just the epitome of “Southern.” I loved it. Well 4 or 5 later, and I have my share of men’s shirt aprons.

The real shame of the matter is, there are no real dinner parties anymore. No real occasion that warrants sporting a pretty apron. So, until real dinner parties come back into fashion, I suppose my pretty aprons will sit unused in a drawer. I will look at them from time to time and think “Oh, what pretty aprons I have.”

Photo taken from pinterest.com

Meanwhile, I did not have time to take out all of my aprons to snap a photo...so pinterest and countryliving ones will have to do :)  But these are adorable.  I may have to get a few more...lol.

Sentimental Saturday

So...a picture is worth a thousand words.  And this one says a lot.  Apparently, I had dressed myself that morning...check out those fuzzy socks, paired with my cute little red shoes.  But there I sat, with my umbrella, by my little Cozy Coupe. 

December 2015 Trip: Louisville

Perhaps one of the easiest planned vacations that the Sheffield girls ever went on was the Louisville/Clarksville/Montgomery trip in 2015.

Back when I was in High School, I went to 4-H Nationals with a demonstration where I made my mama and Grandma Betty’s Ham Pie. Now, Nationals was held in Louisville, Kentucky, and I quickly fell in love with the city. We went during the Fall, and the leaves had/were changing, the weather was gorgeous…it was just wonderful. One of my favorite things about that trip was our fieldtrip to Churchill Downs. As I have said a blue million times, I am really not a horse person. But Churchill Downs was just incredible. I felt that my sister, being a lover of horses, should have this same experience.

So, in December of 2015, we set our sights on Louisville. Now, the trip up? Well, perhaps it was my navigation, or Pegi (our GPS), but I think it took us double the time that it should have. In my defense, I was trying to avoid Nashville traffic at all cost. But because of that, I’m pretty sure that I took us through some areas where banjo music could be heard faintly in the distance; and some winding roads that were completely unnecessary. Regardless, after a quick trip around the world, we made it “close” to Louisville around 10 p.m. that night. Nothing had prepared us for the one-lane interstate traffic (caused by construction) 11 miles outside of Louisville. THAT, dear friends, was a nightmare. Two hours later, we made it to our exit and found a hotel.

All was made right, the next morning, when we rolled into the parking lot of Churchill Downs. The lobby that houses the museum was beautifully decorated for Christmas. We signed up for the next tour, not realizing that it would be just us and the tour guide.

Y’all…we could not have picked a better tour guide. He had been to something like 35 consecutive Derbys; he had worked at Churchill Downs for years; and had a vast knowledge of the history, the horses, the bloodlines, and the jockeys. He and Rheba chatted it up like old friends, as mom and I took in all of the sights. He told us so many stories, and probably took around 45 minutes longer than the allotted tour time with us. 

A fun side story: There is a car show at Churchill Downs about a month prior to the Kentucky Derby. And many people go to the car show, and hide their booze in the center of the track. See, many young people stand in the center of the track on the day of the Derby. Because the price of drinks is so high during the Derby, they can sneak in their own booze during the Car Show.

After the tour ended, we walked through the museum. Probably the coolest thing, for me, was watching how everything fascinated Rheba so. She was certainly in her element.

Later, we had lunch at the little restaurant in the Museum building. I can’t remember what I had now, but they had some kind of bourbon sauce for it, and that was what completely made the dish. It was delicious.

If ever you are in Louisville, a trip to Churchill Downs should be on your list of things to do. While I am ill-equipped to put it all into words, I will leave you with some of my photos.

Sometime next week, I will talk about the Clarksville leg of our trip.

People You Should Know: Rick Rescorla

Rick Rescorla photographed by Peter Arnett (credit: www.lzxray.com)

I had not even thought about, until a friend mentioned it to me, that kids that entered High School this year were born AFTER 9/11. That'll make you feel old! Or, at least, it surely did me!

This got me to thinking…I wonder how they will learn about 9/11? I wonder if just hearing about the events of that day will evoke the raw emotion within them as it did us? Will they ever know what we felt as we sat watching helplessly as those towers fell…or saw the footage on the Pentagon...or as we heard the heroic efforts of those on Flight 93? Will they ever know what it felt like, in the aftermath of such a tragedy, to see their Nation unite? I wonder if they will be able to fully comprehend the gravity of the events that occurred that day…

I will get back to 9/11 shortly…

I have interviewed two Vietnam Veterans recently. Now, I will be the first to admit that I am not well versed in the Vietnam War. I often talk about how lucky I feel to have had the teachers that I had in both High School and College. I had some of the very best History teachers. Mrs. Barnes, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Montgomery...I was truly blessed. Although History was one of my favorite classes growing up, I don’t feel like we touched on Vietnam very much. Now, I don’t know if that was because if one went by the sequence of things, the Vietnam War would be more current, and therefore, would be towards the end of the year, when things were wrapping up; or perhaps it was because it was a controversial War...I’m not sure. But whatever the reason, I’m finding that my knowledge about the Vietnam War is limited.

I wonder if the Vietnam Veterans look at our generation and think "Will you ever be able to comprehend what happened back then?" Perhaps they feel as I do looking at the youth born after 9/11. Perhaps the only thing we can do is pass the history along to future generations, and share our stories. May we never forget.

As I was interviewing my most recent Vietnam Veteran, he introduced me to someone rather important. And while some of you may have heard of him before, and heard his story, I had not. His story has haunted me, and it has weighed on my heart and I must share his story…for all of you who haven't heard of him, and for all of you who may have forgotten.

This will be a bit of a different post, and I will be using citations, as I don't want to plagiarize. All of the articles used I found on the Rick Rescorla Memorial Website.

This American Hero, Rick Rescorla, was actually born in Hayle, Cornwall, UK. He was just a teenager when he joined the British Army, first becoming a paratrooper, and later joining intelligence. In Cyprus, he led a unit that fought insurgents and guerrillas (Hill & McBee, 2004). Then he joined a security force in Northern Rhodesia (Bateman, 2002). It was in Rhodesia that he met his lifelong friend Dan Hill. After Rhodesia, Rescorla joined the Flying Squad of Scotland Yard (Hill & McBee, 2004).

He came to the US in 1963 and enlisted in the United States Army. He later took the Officer Training in Fort Benning, GA, and was commissioned as a US Officer of Infantry in 1965. Five short months later he was leading a platoon of 44 men in Vietnam with 2/7 Cavalry Battalion of the 1st Air Cavalry Division. Two months later he became one of the heroes of the Battle of Ia Drang Valley (Hill & McBee, 2004).

For those of you, like myself, who had not heard of the Battle of Ia Drang Valley... The Battle of Ia Drang Valley is essentially the battle that secured the US in the Vietnam War. Previously, we aided and advised the South Vietnamese.

Hal Moore, author of the book "We Were Soldiers Once…and Young," that dons Rick Rescorla on the cover, once said "Rescorla was the best platoon leader I ever saw" (Grunwald, 2001).

The first night, of the Battle of Ia Drang valley, the American Troops, led by Hal Moore, were surrounded at Landing Zone X-Ray. One company had been nearly wiped out due to an onslaught of firefight. The next day, the company that Rescorla was in was ordered to replace Moore's (Grunwald, 2001).

The tales of Rescorla's bravery continued: That second night, after studying the terrain from the enemy's viewpoint, he commanded his men to dig foxholes 50 yards back, lay traps, and reposition their guns and artillery. As always, to calm his men for what was to come, Rick Rescorla sang and joked (Grunwald, 2001). Bill Lund, who served with him in that battle, stated, "What a command presence. We all thought we were going to die that night, and Recorla gave us our courage back" (Grunwald, 2001). He also saved several of his men by throwing a grenade on an enemy machine gun nest (Stewart, 2002).

After the Battle of Ia Drang, Rescorla and the Bravo company were evacuated by helicopter. The rest of the battalion marched to another nearby landing zone, Landing Zone Albany. The Battalion on foot was ambushed. Again, Rescorla's company were called in to assist. Only two helicopters made it through the enemy fire as they were trying to land. Rescorla's pilot was wounded as they were descending, and Rescrola and his men jumped the remaining ten feet, while the enemy was shooting at them (Stewart, 2002). Lieutenant Larry Gwin said "I saw Rick Rescorla come swaggering into our lines with a smile on his face, an M-79 on his shoulder, his M-16 in one hand saying 'Good, good, good! I hope they hit us with everything they got tonight--we'll wipe them up.' His spirit was catching. The enemy must have thought an entire battalion was coming to help us, because of all our screaming and yelling" (Stewart, 2002).

I was particularly moved, while researching for this post, to read an article by Robert Bateman simply titled "Rick Rescorla." Bateman speaks of Rick Rescorla's legendary calm in the midst of battle (2002). A young man already well-versed in combat, he would often sing to his men to help calm and ready them for combat. Later, Bateman states "When I started interviewing these veterans of my regiment decades later, I was struck by the emotions Rescorla's men still felt for him." He mentions speaking with Rescorla's old Radio Telephone Operator as well as other survivors. He says "Over time, I came to believe that they would have followed Rescorla in an assault upon the gates of Hell, for he did not order, he led" (Bateman, 2002). What more powerful words can be said about a leader?

Aside from his distinct bravery on the battlefield, I was also struck by his best friend's tales of his compassion. Dan Hill tells in James Stewart's article of how Rescorla would often cradle his dying men reassuring them that everything was going to be alright (2002). Hill states "Rick died a little bit with every guy who died under his command" (Stewart, 2002).

After Vietnam, Rick Rescorla left active Army Service and joined the National Guard. He retired as Colonel (Hill & McBee, 2004). He lived quite an interesting life. After the War, he used his military benefits to study creative writing, received his Bachelor's Degree. He later earned a Master's Degree in Literature, and went on to obtain a Law Degree. He even taught Criminal Justice at the University of South Carolina.  He left seeking a higher-paying position in corporate security.  He joined the Dean Witter Corporation in 1985 (Stewart, 2002).  He still continued to write. When his second wife, Susan, met him he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer that had already spread to his bone marrow (Stewart, 2002).

As you have probably noticed, I have used a lot from the article co-written by his best friend, Dan Hill, and Fred McBee. Such an interesting article. Rick Rescorla took his job as Vice President for Security at the Dean Witter Corporation seriously. He had even gotten a consultant to help him find the weak areas that might make an opening for an attack. As the article continues, you find that Dan Hill had actually been one of the consultants.

Rick Rescorla warned the New York/New Jersey Port Authority two years prior to the 1993 World Trade Center bombing (Hill & McBee, 2004). He knew the importance of the World Trade Center, and knew that it had become an icon of the power of the American economy. He, along with Dan Hill’s help, surveyed the building and found that in the basement, near a support column, if a truck bomb were to go off, it could bring the whole complex down (Gertz, 2002). When he gave the Port Authority the warning, they basically told him to do his job, and be concerned with the floors in the World Trade Center that were leased to the Dean Witter Corporation (Hill & McBee, 2004). On February 26, 1993, Islamic Terrorists parked a rental truck in the basement, that had a homemade chemical bomb inside (Gertz, 2002). Later, the company he worked for received a quarter of a billion dollars because of the Port Authority failing to take seriously the warnings of the upcoming attack (Hill & McBee, 2004).

He warned the Port Authority again, in 1995/96, that another attack would be coming...and the next would be coming by air. He knew that the Terrorists, who’s plans had been foiled in 1993, would try again. As Dan Hill says, Rick Rescorla was not a psychic. But he had a mind for finding the weak areas where one could be attacked. He had a mind for guerilla warfare…and the ability to predict where the enemy would strike next. He had the mind of a soldier (Hill & McBee, 2004).

As you know, The Port Authority, again, did not heed his advice. And upon urging his company to move to low-rise buildings, he was told that the lease was in effect until 2005 (Hill & McBee, 2004). There was nothing that could be done on that front.

After being told this, he decided it was in his hands to get his people prepared in case of an attack. He made them drill, and practice safe evacuations frequently. He prepared for power outage by having stair lighting and generators installed. He assigned people to oversee office and floor evacuations. He made the workers participate in the buddy system (Hill & McBee, 2004). And while I’m sure it was a nuisance at times, the people became accustomed to these drills, and it became engrained in them.

When the North Tower was hit at 8:45 a.m. on September 11th, 2001, the Port Authority instructed everyone in the South Tower to stay put, as there was no danger. Rescorla retorted with "Piss off, you son of a bitch. Everything above where that plane hit is going to collapse, and it's going to take the whole building with it. I'm getting my people the fuck out of here" (Gertz, 2002).

The workers were ready. Rick Rescorla implemented his evacuation plan. As he had done in Vietnam, he sang songs to keep his people calm in crisis. 2700 people followed his commands that day. Twenty-seven-hundred people are still alive today because of Rick Rescorla. Only six employees of Dean Witter/Morgan Stanley lost their lives that day. Rick Rescorla was one of the six (Hill & McBee, 2004).

See, as a trained soldier, a trained leader...he could not leave one of his men behind. Three were missing, and he and two assistants went back in to look for them. Unfortunately the building collapsed before they were able to get out.

He may have been British by birth, but Rick Rescorla is a true American Hero.

John 15:13 reads "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

May we never forget his service. May we never forget his courage. May we never forget his sacrifice.

Rick Rescorla, you will never be forgotten.

References

Bateman, Robert L. (2011). Rick Rescorla.  Retrieved from:

        http://rickrescorla.com/articles/rick-rescorla-robert-bateman

Gertz, Bill (2002). Remember Rick Rescorla.  Retrieved from:

        http://rickrescorla.com/articles/remember-rick-rescorla-bill-gertz

Grunwald, Michael (2001). A Tower of Courage. Retrieved from:

        http://rickrescorla.com/articles/a-tower-of-courage

Hill, Daniel J. & McBee, Fred (2004). Stand and Never Yield.   

        Retrieved from:  http://rickrescorla.com/articles/stand-and-never-yield

Stewart, James B. (2002). The Real Heroes Are Dead. Retrieved from: 

        http://rickrescorla.com/articles/the-real-heroes-are-dead

Wordless Wednesday: Fetty and Moon Pie

Y'all, we've been in cuteness overload at the Sheffield house.  Moon Pie has stolen our hearts. And we couldn't be prouder of how ol' Fetty is doing.  She is the best little mama.  Moon Pie is going to be the best little horse for a special little girl.  He's just precious.  So, I want to share some pictures with y'all from this week.

I think even Moose and Bunny are smitten

High Tea and the Izaak Walton Lodge

Yours truly and Krystle

Last week was my best friend’s Spring Break (she’s a teacher at a local college). So, last Thursday, I left work early, and we headed out to Yankeetown. Now, truth be told, I never really thought there was much of anything in Yankeetown.

Last year, Krystle went on vacation to Scotland with her husband, John. While over there, at one of the bed and breakfasts, she joined in on High Tea. Later, she mentioned that she hadn’t been able to fully appreciate it while over there, as she had been battling a nasty cold; she had wanted to do High Tea again sometime.

A few weeks ago, she was flipping through the paper and saw that they had a blurb about having High Tea every Thursday at 3 p.m. at the Riverside Inn at the Izaak Walton Lodge in Yankeetown. We decided to take part during her Spring Break.

Riverside Inn at the Izaak Walton Lodge

I’ll be honest, I went in not knowing what to expect. I expected to walk in to a room full of hoity-toity women, all gussied up. My ignorance about hot tea would make me stick out like a sore thumb. Well, y’all, nothing could have been farther from the truth.

I think that most Thursdays it’s much busier than it was the day we went, (as they were expecting another two tables to show up) but it wound up only being Krystle and I, and another small table of ladies. The hostess was so very gracious. You were able to choose from the black tea that she was serving, or you could choose from the assortment in a dish on your table. Krystle chose a pomegranate green tea, and I chose the Perfect Peach tea.

Next, they served little sandwiches: egg, chicken salad, and cucumber. I tried the chicken salad and the cucumber, and both were delicious. Then, they served orange/cranberry scones, with little dishes of strawberry jam, lemon curd, and Devonshire cream. Y’all, if nothing else, the scones made the trip. They were wonderful!

Withlacoochee River

Overall, High Tea made for the nicest little outing for Krystle and I. The Izaak Walton Lodge, overlooking the Withlacoochee River, is the perfect setting for High Tea. The hostess was so very sweet, the tea was wonderful, and the food was delicious. I would highly recommend checking it out.

As we left, and drove down Riverside Drive (as the hostess had suggested), I had a newfound appreciation for Yankeetown.

Mama Says: I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies!

So, this has been a long week, and I have been on-the-go all week. I have, to a certain degree, been tethered to the house. I have had to check on the pregnant horses and feed them every couple of hours. Ever heard the expression "hungry as a horse?" I think that was talking about an expectant horse. Boy, did Fetty and Bunny eat! Both are pregnant, but Fetty was overdue. Her due date was March 5th.

The reason Rheba was especially concerned with Fetty's pregnancy is that Fetty is completely blind. Both eyes have been removed, one because of an abscess and one because of an ulcer. This was not Fetty's first pregnancy, but it was her first since she has been completely blind.

Now, while I am a farm girl, we never had horses growing up. My first experience with horses, while visiting my aunt and uncle's house in Morriston when i was probably 10 years old, was not a good one. Their son had put us on a horse and led us around. He then put my brother Justin on the horses back and told me to lead it. I don't remember what happened to the horse (who was supposed to be childproof), but he reared, my brother fell off and the horse accidentally stepped on the middle of Justin's back. He had a big bruise for about a month. So much for my first experience with horses!

Fast-forward twenty something years, and I had married someone who loved horses. His old horse still resided at his mother's house, but wasn't ridden anymore. Aleta was just a toddler, and Jackie decided she could ride Tiny. He was holding Aleta on Tiny' back and "letting her ride." Once again, I don't know what happened, but Tiny reared, Aleta went tumbling down Tiny's rump and got kicked in the eye. Her first and only black eye. Boy, was I mad, and it didn't help my fear of horses!

Later, Jackie insisted on buying Aleta a horse. So Valiant came to live at our house. I didn't have daily contact with him because Jackie took care of the animals. Valiant threw Aleta off, and ended her cowgirl career. So much for the "climb right back on" theory.

So, for several years, I didn't have to worry about horses…

Then arrived Rheba, Jackie's child in most every way. She begged for a horse. so of course, Jackie found her one. Jackie's friend, Buck Long, thought that his horse, Lacey, would make Rheba a good horse. For a while, we didn't have a saddle, so Rheba would just go out in the field and visit the horse. It was so cute to just watch Rheba in the field, talking to the horse while leading it.

But Jackie decided this time, to do it right. So, we took Rheba every week to Mrs. Donna Sharp for lessons. I got a little more comfortable with horses, but still had a healthy respect for them.

Needless to say, through Rheba's rodeos and barrel races, I have seen her fall off and get back on. I've had a lot of heart-stopping moments.

All this to say, I'm still timid around horses. Last summer, after Fetty had her second eye removed, she accidentally stepped on my foot and broke my toe.

Bunny, the other pregnant horse, is Fetty's guide horse. She has finally taken her role seriously. One night, recently, Rheba found Bunny on one side of Fetty, and Moose across the fence on the other side of Fetty. They had Fetty hemmed between them as the coyotes were howling in the pines behind their field. Bunny has gotten very protective.

So, there we were Saturday, 13 days overdue. Aleta and I had been to Gainesville, back home, then to a birthday party for Z, then to Bronson to visit my Aunt. Coming home, after our long day, Aleta and I discussed our plans for getting home, putting on pajamas, and watching "Murder, She Wrote."

Rheba had been home most of the day, but had left to go visit her boyfriend. As we rounded the corner, coming home, Aleta noted that Fetty was lying on the ground (a good sign that she could be in labor). As we parked and looked, she was standing up. I went inside to get a drink, then decided to go back outside to check on her, she was down again.

As things progressed, we called Rheba, who said that someone should be out there talking to Fetty. Now as we had come up, Bunny had been out there with her, but was now in the barn. Rheba has experience with her horses having babies. But… "I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies, Ms. Fetty!"

Aleta and I traipse out to the back of the field,with our flashlights, a towel, and a phone with Rheba on the other end. Talking to Fetty as the front feet and head emerged, encouraging as the body rolls out and finally the back feet. I really can't imagine what Rheba was going through on the other end of the line, knowing that two novices were birthing that baby! She was wonderful talking us through it, and keeping us calm.

I was especially worried of what the blind horse would do after the birth. Rheba told me to wipe the foal down with the towel. Fetty stayed down while we cleaned up the foal and told her what a good job she had done. She eventually stood and stepped over to the foal and then stepped back, letting us deal with the baby. Rheba had prepared a halter with jingle bells on it for the foal. Aleta went back to the barn and got that. We managed to get it on the foal before it stood up. The baby stood up 23 minutes after it was born, which is amazing. Aleta and I didn't have time to record times of birth or standing up, but Rheba did that while on the phone with us. Twenty three minutes tells you how fast everything was happening.

Rheba talks about how imprinting is so important, and imprint we did. We loved on that baby, rubbed him and shook his halter so Fetty could hear the bells and get used to them. We were no longer on the phone with Rheba, because she was already headed home.

We had a few terrifying moments…Once, all of a sudden, Bunny returned and her protective instincts kicked in, and she decided to charge at us. We backed off, talking and calming Bunny. Then, the foal ran to Bunny, who tried to move away, only to kick the baby. The baby squealed, Bunny darted, the baby kept trying to follow her and Fetty went crazy trying to find her baby. We got the baby separated from Bunny, but couldn't calm Fetty down as she circled and circled. We tried ringing the bells, but she wouldn't calm down. It seemed like 20 or 30 minutes before we could reunite mother and baby. During that time, the baby stuck close to Aleta and I, chewing on our clothes. Again, we got to love on it. Needless to say, we are in love.

Rheba got home and got the baby to nurse and all was well. I got back into the house at 11:30 p.m., realized that we had been out there since about 6:30. I had not eaten supper. I was dead on my feet. I took a quick shower and fell into bed around midnight.

Sunday morning, when I woke up at 10 a.m. (missed church) and went outside, there was Fetty and the foal, walking in the field. The foal was right by her side, almost touching as they walked. I have a great confidence that these two will be just fine.

So, my claim that "I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies" went unheeded. Fetty didn't care. She did the birthing work, but…just like the old Shake and Bake commercial…I'm gonna claim "and I helped!!" I guess I can add another skill to my resume!

By the way, it's a boy!!!

Until next week,

Cynthia Kay

Sunday Obsession: The Bronze Horseman

One day, as I was walking into Herry’s (a local sandwich shop), I ran into Randi Beauchamp. Being a fellow avid reader, she had to inform me of a book that “I had to read.”

The next time I was in Books a Million, I looked up the title, and bought it. Never would I have guessed that this would soon become my favorite book of all time.

To segue into this post, I should say this…No time in history do I find more fascinating than the WWII era. In both World and American History classes growing up, this was by far my favorite section.  

The Bronze Horseman is set in Leningrad, Russia (now St. Petersburg) during WWII. The novel begins as Tatiana’s family learns of Germany’s invasion of Russia. While the book is a love story, it tells a part of history that I had never learned or even thought of. I always considered Russia to be part of the Axis Powers, with very little thought of how it was for the Russians when Hitler turned his sights on them.

The story tells of the destruction and loss and starvation that ravaged Leningrad during WWII. The Seige of Leningrad lasted for 872 days. It involved bombing, cutting off supplies and food, and the German and Finnish armies encircling the city. It caused astronomical casualties to civilians. Although fiction, the book does an amazing job of giving you a glimpse at what a Leningrad citizen might have faced.

The book is heartbreaking and heart-wrenching, but is well worth the read. And though it is sad at times, the book is heartwarming and hopeful and filled with strength. You will want to put it down a million times, but you just can’t do it. This is a book, that even after a few years, it still haunts me. I am still in awe at the work that Paullina Simons put into this novel.

I pity the folks...

I pity the folks that do not know the solace and clarity that can be found in driving fast down a dirt road, windows down, with music blaring.

I pity the folks who will never know what it is like for a community to gather around you and cover you in love and support in a time of need or tragedy.

I pity the folks who will never know the nostalgia that comes with rocking on a front porch; or shelling a bucket of peas; or listening to an old Jerry Clower story.

I pity the folks that will never know what it’s like to live surrounded by uncles, aunts, and cousins.

I pity the folks who will never know the comfort of hearing rain beat down on a tin roof; a pound cake after a funeral; or that comes with wearing your grandmother’s apron.

I pity the folks that will never pass a watermelon field, or a tractor, on their way to town or to work.

I pity the folks that will never know what it’s like to have a story about you beat you home to your parents; or have a neighbor stop when they see you on the side of the road.

Yes, I pity the folks not being blessed to be raised in small towns all across the South. While, we may seem like hicks…there is surely something to be said about life ‘round here. It may be slow-paced, but in my mind, there is nothing closer to Heaven.

North Carolina/South Carolina Trip Part 3: Myrtle Beach, Charleston, and Fernandina

Today, I’m going to talk about the last leg of our North Carolina Trip…which is actually more about South Carolina and Florida.

Now, one of my bad habits is that I really like watching train-wreck TV. What do I mean, you ask? If a show looks like it’s going to be a complete train wreck…I have to watch it. If you have ever seen a commercial come on for a TV show and it looked like it was going to be a complete disaster, I have probably watched it. Honey Boo Boo, check. Sex Sent Me to The ER, check. My Strange Addiction, check.

A few years ago, a show came on about a trailer park in Myrtle Beach. Now, it was deemed “reality tv” but was probably very staged. However, I watched the three seasons and loved every minute of it.

Top: Myrtle Beach Ferris Wheel.  Bottom: Myrtle Beach

I tell you that, to tell you this…I wanted to go to Myrtle Beach. No, not to visit the trailer park, but to just say that I had been there…and to take a picture of the ferris wheel. So, Myrtle Beach was the next stop on our trip.

Pictures of the river at Monck's Corner, SC

Have y’all ever heard of a little town called Monck’s Corner in South Carolina? No? Well, the canoe/swan scene of The Notebook was filmed at Cypress Gardens in Monck’s Corner. Much to my dismay, the Gardens were closed at that time due to flooding. Also, fun fact, the swans were actually brought in for the film. However, it was not a wasted trip, I did get some photos of the river nearby.

Some of the beauty around Charleston, SC

Onward we went towards Charleston. If you have never been to Charleston, you’d better jot it down on your Bucket List. I know that many folks around here might gasp, but I actually prefer Charleston to Savannah (although I do love Savannah, too!). The carriage rides, the history, all of the beautiful gates and iron work on the houses, Battery Park, shopping on King street, eating brunch at Poogan’s Porch? Oh. My. Word. I love it.

Poogan's Porch

Poogan’s Porch deserves its own little plug. This is a must for all of you foodies out there. Mrs. Cindy Jo suggested this place to us upon our first visit to Charleston, and we have gone every time we’ve visited. They offer brunch on the weekends, and although they have fish and grits and shrimp and grits, that is lost on us.

Poogan's Porch Chicken and Waffles

We are there for the chicken and waffles. They have a Blueberry Texas Pete Maple Syrup….it’s sweet, it packs some heat…it is incredible. It’s located on Queen Street.

Rheba and Cynthia Kay on the trolley

It was close to Christmas, so shopping down King Street was a must. Also down King Street is the old theater…perhaps you will remember. It was also featured in a scene in the Notebook. The market was also so very nice. There are vendors set up every day; and you can find everything from scarves to paintings.

We had previously taken a trolley tour a few years back. Because of where I was seated, I had a difficult time taking photos. It seemed all of the attractions were on the opposite side, with people in the way. This time, we decided to take a Carriage ride. I figured with the carriage being open, it would make for better photos.

The waterfront at Beaufort, SC

After leaving Charleston, we made a brief stop in Beaufort. Beaufort is a beautiful town. The waterfront area is so nice; they have set up swings along a section of it. The old homes and tree-lined streets always beckon to me.

We chose to end our trip at one of our favorite places: Fernandina. We typically stay in Yulee, and just drive into Fernandina. It’s only a few miles outside of Fernandina, but the hotel cost drops dramatically. There is also a nice shopping area in Yulee.

The Sheffield Girls at Barbara Jean's

We spent the night in Yulee, and drove into Fernandina the next day…our first stop being the beloved Barbara Jean’s. Then, we drove to the historic area, and went shopping. Bijoux Amelia, Twisted Sisters, the little bookstore, and the chocolate shop are all favorites of ours.

When we made it home that afternoon, after nearly 11 days of traveling, we were tired…and Karter Lee was one happy camper.