A Memorial to Sharon Webb Brown forum: Lessons from Sharon

 
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Imagevic
Oct 27, 2016 3:04 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
I love writing letters but all those to whom I wrote letters are all gone.
Everybody else has email.

It was my mom, my grandmothers, aunts and uncles and one of my best friends from HS. They are no longer here, but I usually try to send Christmas cards to my favorite cousin, my brother and those others who have email anyway.

But handwriting is almost a forgotten art. I remember being graded by my teacher on handwriting. Every single month of school through 8th grade.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 27, 2016 3:08 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
Y'aw is very very common in my part of the world. We never bother with 'l', lazy tongue.

Aw rite?
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 27, 2016 3:12 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
I think the key is learning to our own sound to that surrounding us.

I've had to speak to fairly large groups publicly and it's a quandary sometimes. Growing up in the southern Appalachians on the Virginia side of things, we have a sort of soft drawl but with phrases that are somewhat different.

"I come from up yohndah and I'm goin' ovah theah rite nowh."

I went to college and my roommate for 4 years was from deep in the heart of Vihginiah, so our combination of southern Appalachian drawling continued.

Then on to Louisville, which has more of a northern sound with more perfectly syntaxed phrases. Ten years there, so I lost a bit of the phrasing, like 'ovah yohndah'.

Then to western Kentucky, and believe me, I didn't understand a word that was spoken here. Nor did they me. It was truly an experience that first year. Here there is a real country sound with flat vowels and hard consonants, nothing is soft.
Things like 'drag that chayer up 'n under the tayble', and 'if you don't get that done, you're gonna be up agin' it' and 'brang that bush hog rite cheer, I got me some wild briyars growin' allover the back forty.'

We didn't have a back forty in the mountains, there was no flat land. Acreage was measured upward. Anyway, this was a real experience, yet only 200 miles west of Louisville and about 400 miles west of where I had grown up. The first year I was here was spent trying to unravel the language. I'm sure they had the same problem understanding my softened sound. My mom had spent all her years teaching mostly English, so I was somewhat saved by my vocabulary, even though I was told I 'talked funny'.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 27, 2016 3:58 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
When I was teaching I had black, brown and dark blue socks.
They were all alike, just different colors. Nobody ever noticed if I had on a mismatched pair unless one of my own children came to my classroom. They'd spot it every time. My daughter more than my son.
It became such a joke I didn't bother to double check before I left home in the mornings.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 27, 2016 5:47 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
My earliest fondest Christmas memories are of bubble lights as seen from the rug on the floor between the couch and the tree. From there I could see their reflection on the ceiling too.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 27, 2016 5:50 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
My ancestors always said 'ye', and I can remember preachers always using it in their sermons. Matter of fact it's mostly how the words were said together, ye aw. And my brother uses it, I probably do too when I'm home.

"Ye comin' to dinner tonight?"
"Ye better wear a coat, it's cold out."

Yep, I never heard my family say y'all.

"Ye'll never get done if ye don't hurry."
Odd that I never thought of that before. Lots of Scots, Irish, Welsh in my family.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 27, 2016 5:59 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
Do you remember when we talked about believing that life is not about what we do for ourselves, it is about what we do for others?
We are all in this together. Group hug
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 27, 2016 6:30 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
Knitting - Mom knitted and Ninna crocheted. I couldn't for the life of me follow Mom, but I could follow Ninna's fingers, so I learned crocheting by watching her. Trouble was I learned from sitting across from her and so I was working with my left hand, duh. Finally I unlearned that but never did learn to knit. Like you, I had all kinds of handknitted sweaters, but Mom usually had wool to match the yarn and make skirts to match. I had lots of matching skirts and sweaters. I remember one time one of the older ladies in her quilting group commented on how my mother surely spent too much money on my clothes since soon I would outgrow them.

My mom very quietly asked her how many aprons and shawls she had. (Shawls were big in those days.)

The old woman said she had about a dozen of each, one for each day of the week and a few for special occasions. And asked Mom what aprons and shawls had to do with my clothes.

My mom gently asked her how much money she spent on each apron and each shawl.

The old woman said she just mostly made her aprons from leftover fabric that was used for other things, same with shawls, so she didn't spend a penny on them, but what did that have to do with my matching skirts and sweaters.

Mom was very quiet and very dignified, so with great quiet dignity, (which no doubt could be heard throughout the room) she said:

"It takes less fabric that you have in your apron to make Sharon's skirts, and less yarn than you have in your shawl to make her a sweater. She gets leftover fabric and leftover yarn for her clothes. I don't spend a penny on her."

Yayyy for Mom. The older woman was a friend of my Gramma Ell, obviously not one of my mom's favorites, but a quilting party was a quilting party, and that old woman was a pretty good quilter, though not very nice.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 28, 2016 1:13 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
I have to tell you something. You know how difficult it is for me to eat some things; I'm just now working on eating chicken, a bite or two at a time. I'm not sure what this tells you about me, but it might give you some insight into the way my feeble mind works - in case you ever wondered:

I decided I absolutely had to have a boiled egg or two for my salad tonight. So I have fresh eggs, and I took one, then two, out of the carton. The first one went into the pan but the second one rattled. A rattling fresh egg. Now I've never ever known of an egg to rattle fresh out of the carton but visions of a tiny chicken embryo crept into my mind, one with a beak, frozen from the fridge, but knock knock knocking on the shell. I looked at that egg.

If I crack the egg and a half formed baby chick falls out, It will be years before I can eat chicken again, or an egg.
If I toss it, well, what to do what to do what to do.

So I went ahead and boiled 2 other eggs. And I thought about it.
And thought. And looked at that egg rolled as it was against the coffee maker. I picked it up and shook it lightly. Yep. It rattled. Knocked against the shell. And it felt heavy. That chicken could very well be beyond embryo stage and have feathers. And a beak, and beady little eyes. Long lethal toenails. I put it back beside the coffee maker.

I thought I should bury it maybe, so I looked for a little box. No box. I wrapped it in a paper towel and remembered that I'd put an empty roll from paper towels into the garbage outside earlier so I thought I might bury that egg in that paper towel roll thingy.

I took the paper towel wrapped rattling egg outside and went to the trash can which is down two steps beside my deck. In one hand I had the wrapped rattling egg and I used the other hand to lift the lid off the trash can.

And promptly dropped the egg that was in the other hand. It rolled down the first step and cracked on the second, then splattered on the ground. A perfectly good egg. A wonderful egg. Not a feather, no beak, no creepy toenails, no beady little eye, nothing. I wasted a perfectly perfect fresh egg.

It's splattered all over my yard right beside the trash can.
I cannot believe I did that.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 28, 2016 1:35 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
I can't remember when I didn't know how to use a sewing machine. Learned on Ninna's treadle before I could reach the foot thingy. I'd sit on her lap and guide the fabric and make towels out of feed sacks. Sewing machines are so easy now they almost do everything for you.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 28, 2016 2:09 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
I used to write.
Then I taught.
Then I wrote educational stuff.
Then I wrote curriculum guides.
Then I retired.
Then I wrote.
And now sometimes I write again.
But it is never easy.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 28, 2016 2:10 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
I probably talk with a combination of sounds, but stick pretty close to my roots. We don't say 'r', it's more like heah and theah, and nevah and no mo-ah. When I lectured, or spoke to groups, I tried to remember who I was talking to. But even so, I'm sure my sound wasn't always their norm. Mostly I can fit in wherever I am, but when I'm tired, then the mountain sounds creep in.

There are a lot of different regional sounds across Kentucky; I probably can match every one of them.

My cat babbles. Jazz grumbles and chatters sometimes like a squirrel, sometimes like an angry old man. And for no reason unless I sneeze him out of a sound sleep. Then he yells. Grumpy old man. Daisy never says a word.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

[Last edited Oct 28, 2016 2:12 PM CST]
Quote | Post #1222050 (12)
Imagevic
Oct 28, 2016 2:14 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
Well it just occurred to me last night when I couldn't get to sleep that we need to make use of this Cubit. It's great for chat, but we can make it anything we want. And we can organize and reorganize however we want. It's a good cubit and has outlived most of them, so let's use it.

And if we all work together, then we'll make it whatever we want it to be. Better here than scattered out in all the rest of my slightly inactive cubits. Too hard to find when they are scattered out like that. So here is the perfect place.

And if y'all need something different, say so. I aim to please. Smiling Group hug
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 28, 2016 2:30 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
I was thinking last night that when I grew up in the mountains I had no clue about strange weather. In summer we had storms but the lightning was high above us, rarely ever making its way down into the little valleys where most houses were. We were protected from most things by the mountains. We were also protected, in the little pocket where we lived, from flooding, though it did flood down closer to the river sometimes. And sometimes the little creek that ran down the mountain beside my house got a little full, but its banks were tall, so it rarely flooded over its banks.

Then I moved to Louisville and experienced both thunderstorms up close and flooding really up close because Louisville has no mountains and sits on the Ohio River.

Hail, snows and sleet in both places, also.

Then I come to W KY and here we have floods and drought and thundersnow and thundersleet and lightning strikes and tornadoes and high winds and severe drought with nothing to block them. And the effect of hurricanes that swing upward and eastward from the Gulf. Oh boy, was I ever in for a rude awakening.

I also had to learn what would grow here and what wouldn't. I killed a few plants along the way, not realizing the difference in the climates. The plant I miss most is Bleeding Heart, but I think by now I have created enough shade in the front garden, where the blue is, so I'm going to try them again. Might not work, but I'm going to take one last chance and try. And nasturtiums. Can't get them to grow either.

But last night was my first true life experience with thunder sleet. Thundersnow I knew about, but never before did I ever hear thundersleet.

It's always something.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 28, 2016 4:43 PM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
Mostly life wouldn't be worth living if we couldn't laugh now and then.
Balance.
For every tear there must be a smile.
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

Imagevic
Oct 29, 2016 7:20 AM CST
Name: Vicki
North Carolina
The good part about 70 is that you can use it.

"Oh, I'm 70, I can't possibly lift that bag of mulch, I need help."
"Oh, I forgot - when you're 70, you just can't possibly remember everything!"
"Oh, I'm 70, I can wear orange and purple together if I want to."
"Oh, I'm 70, I can't possibly change that tire."

Heh!! Not that I'm guilty of that . . . but I could be if I needed to. Big Grin
NATIONAL GARDENING ASSOCIATION Purslane & Portulaca ~ Garden Art CUBITS Heart Strength ~ Trust in the Lord

ImageArleneB
Oct 29, 2016 12:13 PM CST
Name: Arlene
Grantville, GA
August 13, 2013

OK, I'm going to take you farther back than Germany into an ancient language that many have never heard of. If you aren't interested then skip this part because it's the middle of the night and the teacher in me has come out.

There is a Jewish tribe who claims to be the last/lost tribe of Israel and who for many many hundreds if not thousands of years has lived in Nigeria. And experts can't really refute their claim because they have kept to many ancient ways as well as ancient words and beliefs. They speak what is known as IgboHebrew, a sort of combination of an ancient dialect of Hebrew and ancient Greek. (Keep in mind the order of major ancient cultures: Mesopotamian ->Egyptian -> Greek -> Roman, etc. With Hebrew mixed in and out of all of them.)

Now keep in mind too that I have some kinda degree in Ancient Cultures and you know that things we've studied and taught for years and years have a way of lingering in our minds (Larry and Charlie will well know what I'm talking about). And y'all also know how I get obsessed about words and things sometimes. In studying Ancient Cultures, one of our text books was the Bible with emphasis on the Old Testament. So to put it mildly, I know a heckuva lot more about old stuff than I know about new. Mostly. So . . . Here goes:

The Virgin version of the word ‘Almah’ like the Igbo ‘nma’ is primary to a ‘young girl’ and the addition of Virgin is a second possible meaning, a derivative and not the direct meaning. The new perspective on this view is that another Igbo word exists that we can also refer to the above sentence and that word is ‘oma’, meaning ‘well behaved, mannered’ ‘well being’ ‘well born’, as such the incident of the Igbo word ‘nma’ (beauty) and the indicative Igbo word ‘oma’ (good, well born, fitting, and deserving), often if not always apply to a ‘young woman’ in Igbo language.

The real Igbo word that may throw additional meaning to the sentence is the term ‘Ada’ meaning daughter or a beautiful daughter. Ada in Igbo can also mean a young girl, but when we bind this Igbo word ‘ada’ (daughter) to the Igbo word ‘nma’ (beauty) and the Igbo word ‘oma’ (well born, well behaved, et al), we arrive another word ‘ada-nma’ or ‘ada-oma’, which in context of Hebrew Almah, chime, to the more common meaning that ‘almah’ or in Igbo ‘adanma’ speaks of a woman>perhaps a beautiful, well behaved, young girl or woman in present tense of worthy characters.


http://igbohebrewdialectic.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/isaiah-7...

That's the only place I could find on-line with the reference to 'Oma' and it's a little difficult to read because I think this is a translation from Igbo/Hebrew. But it's what I was looking for and if I hadn't found it I would have dug out my old textbooks right here in the middle of the night. Told you I get obsessed sometimes.

But I knew that the word Oma had something to do with either Hebrew or Aramaic, and Aramaic was the dialect that it is thought was spoken during the time and location of the life of Christ. But my feeble brain combined all of it when we were talking about the word 'Oma'. What I remembered is that the word had something to do with a very sweet young woman or a well respected older woman who had a lot of responsibility - and somehow the phrase 'giver of life' was hanging around in my mind as well.

Whew. Glad to get that settled in my mind, otherwise I'd have been digging around in books all night. Now if you read all that, you are thinking I've totally lost it, but that's OK. The word was there and when the Germans came along they just kept right on using it and now -right here among our group- it's still a term used in much the same way for the same type of female, one who is typically a very very good and kind woman. A giver of life.

I hate when I get so involved in things like this, I couldn't have slept if I hadn't settled it in my mind. Sometimes I'm very difficult to live with. I am totally positive that you will agree with that. Big Grin

Nite all - Group hug
ImageArleneB
Oct 29, 2016 12:40 PM CST
Name: Arlene
Grantville, GA
August 2013

I told somebody last night that our close online friends are known to us only by their words and words are powerful things. We never know what kind of impression will linger long after we're gone.
ImageArleneB
Oct 29, 2016 12:41 PM CST
Name: Arlene
Grantville, GA
August 2013

The name of this moon is misleading, because 'Blue Moon' can mean two full moons within the period of a month or it can mean 4 full moons within a season. Usually there are only 3 within a season. This moon is the 3rd of 4 within this current season. It really has nothing to do with the color of it.

I wrote my rambling thoughts in my ATP blog; you can see it here:

http://allthingsplants.com/blogs/view/Sharon/

And Margaret let us use this photo of her Blue Moon.

Thumb of 2016-10-29/ArleneB/9bc987
ImageArleneB
Oct 29, 2016 12:51 PM CST
Name: Arlene
Grantville, GA
August 2013

One time, maybe first or second grade, the teacher handed out a paper to each of us and on it was a large circle. At the top were the words: This is a ball. Color the ball red.

So I grabbed a red crayon, a white, maybe a blue or purple and I colored it all red then I used the blue or purple toward the edge of it and the white near the middle, covering and blending with the red, so that it was shaded darker in the back and had a lighter spot near what would be the front. Made it into a 3-D ball. Of course everybody else had colored the circle all red, no shading.

So the papers were graded and returned to the students and I could read very well by then. Written on my paper was something like this: 'I refuse to grade Sharon's paper because she did not follow directions. Until she does, she will receive a failing grade for every day she does not turn in a corrected paper. She must color the ball red, just as the directions stated.'

I was afraid to go home.

I'd been coloring and painting for a very long time, Mom turned me loose with watercolors when I was mailing letters to my Dad during the war, so I was painting long before I knew how to write a word. I had a kitten named Cookie at that time and she was a little yellow fluff ball. For Mom's birthday that year I had painted Cookie sitting on a puffy pink pillow, and had even shaded the pink with lighter and darker pinks so the pillow looked puffy. Cookie also had shading in all the proper places so she wasn't just plain solid yellow.

Mom was a teacher herself and knew my teacher very well. With no fanfare at all she took me, my Cookie painting, my colored and shaded red ball and she drove us to my teacher's house. I won't ever forget this, Mom was a very quiet woman, great dignity. My teacher came to the door. Mom didn't say a word and I was hiding behind her and of course didn't say anything either. I had no idea what was coming from this. Mom handed my teacher the Cookie painting. Teacher looked at it, smiled, and then said - Oh it's so pretty and did my mother paint it.

And Mom - bless her heart - said, 'No, but I wish I could paint like this. Sharon painted it. And here is her completed RED BALL just as she gave it to you. If the directions had said to color the circle red, she would have done that, but the directions told her to color the BALL red. Maybe your directions need to be corrected since you gave her a circle and she made it into the BALL your directions asked for.'

It was never mentioned again, and actually it wasn't the artistic part that Mom questioned, it was the wording of the directions, which I realize now was probably much more important for the teacher to understand than anything about coloring or art. It was a really good way to handle it, it didn't emphasize my talent in any way so I didn't go around cocky as a rooster, feeling like I had put one over on my teacher. But it did help the teacher, I think. I dunno.

At least it didn't hurt my painting at all because I reckon I never changed my way of doing things, and it also made me more open to how my students perceived things when I began teaching. I'm sure I made some bad calls over the years but I sure did try to never stifle a child's creativity. If it hadn't been for my mother, I would have stopped painting when I was 6 - would have stopped imagining, too.

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