The wind did more than whisper last week. I noticed a couple trees felt the force and uprooted. The red, white and blue flag on the pole ripped to shreds. The henhouse is in need of repair now. Plastic bags from who knows where dance in the treetops.
In heavy traffic, the car stopped on the on -ramp at I-70 and 41 during my husband's commute home from work Friday evening.
Paul contacted the police. An officer showed up and blocked traffic until he could contact Mike's Wrecker &Towing to haul the Deville to a garage.
The tired and frustrated head of this household made it home, thanks to Larry Davis, a friend and fellow employee at Sears.
I was grateful no hitchhiking was necessary. That is not a good option these days.
Since the mechanic does not work on Saturday, he will not be able to isolate the problem until Monday.
It sure is a good thing that the Ford Ranger is in good working order. I am glad that we decided to keep it.
Two amateur mechanics named Sartor put the severely damage front end back together, after Paul's wreck. After a professional inspected our repair job and approved of the work, it lives on in our keep.
Now it is time to focus on the holidays. The Christmas trees look pretty in the little blue house at the end of the road.
My treasured angels are in place. A jolly Santa is in in every room and, I am grinning too!
There is no room for gloom here. I'm hosting some parties for family.
My granddaughters, Mary Shannon Patrick and Elizabeth Cory will visit us soon. The young women plan to arrive, via plane, from Denver, Dec. 28.
Lizzie's father, Bruce Cory and her sister, Sarah Peace and her family reside in Terre Haute. There will be a grand reunion.
Starla will share Christmas with her family and us as well.
I plan to cook a delicious turkey dinner for my sister and her family during the holidays.
Reba's best ever-sweet potato casserole and Mom's dressing will surely be palate pleasers of all of my guests Other sides, including whipped mashed potatoes, salad and sauces sounds like a good plan to me.
No festive meals would be complete without pies and other sweet delights.
Imagine this, I do not raise or pluck turkeys anymore! Those big boys in my freezer are store bought, naked as jaybirds and waiting for me to bring them out and tan their hides, until the meat can't stand the heat!
Forgive me, by now, those of you who follow this column know that I am old and silly.
I invite you into my small, but wonderful world each week via this newspaper to give you the best that I have to offer.
The holiday season is often a sad and lonely time for some. Whatever the reasons may be, depression takes over and gets the upper hand. I know.
The holiday season of 1962 was a low point in my life. I wanted to die. Our only son, Paul Sartor Jr. was gravely ill in Riley Hospital. (The baby was hospitalized most of his short life.)
Paul was working everyday at Terre Haute First National Bank and moonlighting at night to keep the family going.
We had no car, little funds, huge hospital bills, rent to pay and a toddler at home to parent. We knew the baby was going to die. It was the worst of times.
I blamed myself. How could my handsome little baby boy be made so wrong? Like me, Paul was devastated. He felt the same. We ask God, "Why?"
The baby died in January. Our tiny angel was four months and five days old.
It took years to realize that not everything that went bad in my life was my fault, as my mind, and yes, others had led me to believe.
During all of those years so much sadness was bottled up inside. I felt worthless, as if I were a failure. A happy face masked my depression well.
Then one day I took a walk in God's country. I ask the truest friend that I have ever known to lend an ear. He, I sincerely believe delivered me from my torment.
Today my heart fills with joy, my self-esteem is in good order and I'm fine. I am somebody! I look forward to each new day.
I will hold our precious baby boy again someday, at the end of my seasons. God is good!
After Christmas, I plan to work on a few more chapters of my book, time permitting.
I can be reached at 446-4852 or by email email@example.com.