The Flour Sack, by Colleen B. Hubert

WHEN ROADS WERE GRAVELED AND BARRELS WERE STAVED,
WHEN WORN-OUT CLOTHING WAS USED AS RAGS,
AND THERE WERE NO PLASTIC WRAP OR BAGS,
AND THE WELL AND THE PUMP WERE WAY OUT BACK,
A VERSITILE ITEM, WAS THE FLOUR SACK.

PILLSBURY'S BEST, MOTHER'S AND GOLD MEDAL, TOO
STAMPED THEIR NAMES PROUDLY IN PURPLE AND BLUE.
THE STRING SEWN ON TOP WAS PULLED AND KEPT;
THE FLOUR EMPTIED AND SPILLS WERE SWEPT.
THE BAG WAS FOLDED AND STORED IN A SACK
THAT DURABLE, PRACTICAL FLOUR SACK.

THE SACK COULD BE FILLED WITH FEATHERS AND DOWN,
FOR A PILLOW, OR T'WOULD MAKE A NICE SLEEPING GOWN.
IT COULD CARRY A BOOK AND BE A SCHOOL BAG,
OR BECOME A MAIL SACK SLUNG OVER A NAG.
IT MADE A VERY CONVENIENT PACK,
THAT ADAPTABLE, COTTON FLOUR SACK.

BLEACHED AND SEWN, IT WAS DUTIFULLY WORN
AS BIBS, DIAPERS, OR KERCHIEF ADORNED.
IT WAS MADE INTO SKIRTS, BLOUSES AND SLIPS.
AND MOM BRAIDED RUGS FROM ONE HUNDRED STRIPS
SHE MADE RUFFLED CURTAINS FOR THE HOUSE OR SHACK,
FROM THAT HUMBLE BUT TREASURED FLOUR SACK!

AS A STRAINER FOR MILK OR APPLE JUICE,
TO WAVE MEN IN, IT WAS A VERY GOOD USE,
AS A SLING FOR A SPRAINED WRIST OR A BREAK,
TO HELP MOTHER ROLL UP A JELLY CAKE,
AS A WINDOW SHADE OR TO STUFF A CRACK,
WE USED A STURDY, COMMON FLOUR SACK!

AS DISH TOWELS, EMBROIDERED OR NOT,
THEY COVERED UP DOUGH, HELPED PASS PANS SO HOT,
TIED UP DISHES FOR NEIGHBORS IN NEED,
AND FOR MEN OUT IN THE FIELD TO SEED.
THEY DRIED DISHES FROM PAN, NOT RACK
THAT ABSORBENT, HANDY FLOUR SACK!

WE POLISHED AND CLEANED STOVE AND TABLE,
SCOURED AND SCRUBBED FROM CELLAR TO GABLE,
WE DUSTED THE BUREAU AND OAK BED POST,
MADE COSTUMES FOR OCTOBER (A SCARY GHOST)
AND A PARACHUTE FOR A CAT NAMED JACK.
FROM THAT LOWLY, USEFUL OLD FLOUR SACK!

SO NOW MY FRIENDS, WHEN THEY ASK YOU
AS CURIOUS YOUNGSTERS OFTEN DO,
"BEFORE PLASTIC WRAP, ELMERS GLUE
AND PAPER TOWELS, WHAT DID YOU DO?"
TELL THEM LOUDLY AND WITH PRIDE DON'T LACK,
"GRANDMOTHER HAD THAT WONDERFUL FLOUR SACK!"

True Freedom

What is true freedom? True freedom is when you are free inside your mind with your spirit connected to the love, will and hope of God. America is a land where our ancestors sought freedom, especially religious freedom. They sought freedom from economic, political and social oppression -- and most significantly from religious persecution. In America we often take for granted the freedom that our ancestors fought for with their lives. We established freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom of the press, and freedom of religion (and from a state-imposed religion as well). These were earned freedoms. However, the most valuable true freedom comes by the grace of God built on the foundation of our capacity to experience and share the true love of God. Our ancestors prided themselves as a free people. But modern-day Americans pride themselves on being free, as well.

Family, Ancestors and Tradition

Crochet

Crochet is a process of creating fabric from yarn using a crochet hook. It is similar to knitting and consist of pulling loops of yarn through other loops. No one knows for sure where the art came from. Beginning in the 1800s in Britain, America and France, crochet began to be used as a less costly substitute for other forms of lace. I can remember so well when my grandma would crochet what she called doilies. She would place flat ones on the back of her living room chairs. She would take other flat ones, dip them in homemade starch and put the edges around 2 or 3 glasses to make ridges and use them for table scarves. Very pretty. I also remember my great-aunt teaching my mother how to crochet. I loved watching them do it, but I never learned how. Now I wish I had.

Arrowhead Monument, Old Fort, NC

In the center of town in Old Fort, North Carolina an Arrowhead monument was built in 1930. This hand chiseled granite monument served to honor the peace finally achieved between the pioneer settlers and the Native Americans. At the unveiling, over 6,000 people attended including chiefs from both the Catawba and Cherokee tribes. These two tribes had never smoked a pipe of peace together until that day. I live in the same county as this monument, McDowell.

I have posted the emblem of my hometown, Marion, NC which has a lot of the Southern Cemeteries described in this blog below by Stephanie Lincecum.

The Southern Cemetery
by Stephanie Lincecum

I’ve been thinking about the southern cemetery quite a bit lately. By “southern,” I mean cemeteries found in the southern part of the United States. It seems the most prominent, most grand, most intricate, most angelic, and most beautiful cemeteries and gravestones that are proudly and splendidly displayed online are from locations in the northern United States. Does this mean these same beautiful images cannot be found in the South? Of course not. I could list many, many grand displays from “down here.” If we are to be honest, though, these types of cemeteries and gravestones are not the norm.

Recently, while visiting a small church cemetery in middle Georgia (in a little town I had never heard of), I was reminded of why I love the southern cemetery. It has nothing to do with grand markers placed for prominent individuals.

It’s the fact that they can be located right next to a field of cattle. It’s the peaceful silence, with only the sounds of birds, because very few cars bother to travel this out-of-the-way road. It’s the obvious love of family, all grouped together. Sometimes with a large surname marker and several more little markers surrounding it. All adorned with a first name only. It’s all the trinkets left at a grave. You know they mean something to the one buried there. It’s the homemade tombstones. The homemade crosses. It’s the mounds of dirt with flowers at the head when a tombstone cannot be afforded. It’s the idea that a family that can afford a large, marble, pedestal tombstone with an urn on top is buried right next to a family that chose a simple concrete plaque marker. It’s even the living people you might meet. They are eager to greet you, ask how you are doing, tell you who they are there to visit, and then tell you why they miss them so. Huge monuments are not what makes the southern cemetery a wondrous sight to see.

GRANDMA'S APRON
<<<<<>>>>>
When I used to visit grandma,
I was very much impressed,
by her all-purpose apron,
and the power it possessed.
for grandma, it was everyday
to choose one when she dressed.
The strings were tied and freshly washed,
and maybe even pressed.
<<<<<>>>>>
The simple apron that it was,
you would never think about;
The things she used it for,
that made it look worn out.
She used it for a basket,
when she gathered up the eggs.
and flapped it as a weapon,
when hens pecked her feet and legs.
<<<<<>>>>>
She used it to carry kindling
when she stoked the kitchen fire.
And to hold a load of laundry
or to wipe the clothes line wire.
She used it for a hot pad,
to remove a steaming pan.
and when her brow was heated,
she used it for a fan.
<<<<<>>>>>
It dried our childish tears,
when we'd scrap a knee and cry,
and made a hiding place
when the little ones were shy.
Farm products took in season,
in the summer, spring and fall.
Found it's way into the kitchen,
in Grandma's carry all.
<<<<<>>>>>
When Grandma went to Heaven,
God said she now can rest.
I'm sure the apron, she chose that day,
was her Sunday best.
<<<<<>>>>>
Author Unknown