Thursday, October 31, 2019

Grave Digger, Go Away!

Not Now, Grave Digger

While sitting in a doctor’s office the other day, I visited with a man who was waiting on his wife who was in the exam room.  It had been a long day, and we’d been there for hours. The doctor had been slow to see everyone. Typical, right?

The man said, “I had to take off work and drive almost two hours to bring her here.”

I said, “Oh, that’s awful.  Where do you work?”

“For numerous cemeteries.”

“Really? What do you do?”

“I’m a grave digger.”

My eyebrows shot up.  “Wow! I’ve never met a grave digger before. I’m sure you have stories to tell.  Have you ever had to dig up a dead person?”

He nodded. “Just the other day. The funeral home made a mistake, and the guy was buried in the wrong site.”

Oh my! Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time! It wasn’t the departed man’s fault, but he was six feet under in someone’s else’s location.

You know that phrase, “Rest in Peace?” Well, not so for that poor man. His bones got jostled around—going in the hole the first time, coming out, and going back down under all over again.  He could sing a duet with Elvis, “I’m all shook up.”

My husband’s brother recently found out a guy is buried in his place. He’d gone to the cemetery to leave flowers, and while there, he decided to visit his future interment place. Lo-and-behold, someone occupied it—tombstone and all. My brother-in-law produced the deed to his chosen ground and presented it to officials.

The funeral home offered him another location—free of charge. Ha! Who wants to be buried next to someone else’s wife? What if the lady’s hubby dies and wants the legal place next to his beloved? And then you hear, “Sorry. We gave your plot to a stranger.”

I visit my relative’s sites often, leave flowers, and say a word or two to them. 

How do I know he/she is the person down under? I was at the burials, so I’m sure my kinsfolks are still there—where they’re supposed to be. 
No one notified me otherwise. Folks, it’s downright scary to think about who will be in the ground next to you. On the other hand, who knows how long you’ll stay in that hole?

Some grave digger may excavate you up and move you to a new location.
At this date, I have no idea how the funeral home is correcting their misdeed for my brother-in-law, but I’m now acquainted with a grave digger, should he need one.

Have a safe Halloween, and don't be caught dead in the grave yard.

Thursday, October 24, 2019

A Chuckle

"The Life Beyond"

Here lies the body of old Man Peas.

Beneath the daisies and the trees.

But Peas ain't here, only the pod.

For Peas shelled out and has gone to God.

This little poem brings a happy face.

Hubby found the ditty in a book, 
The Life Beyond
by Paul Powell

Life is too short not to grin and chuckle.

Here's a book to make you laugh out loud.

Fall Newsletter

Fall Newsletter - 2019

Welcome to Gay’s Days!

I’ve updated my blog, and I hope you’ll pop over to see it.  You’ll find all sorts of topics: Dementia, Faith and Humor, Recipes, Podcast, and I even have one with Odds and Ends. I started my blog in 2012, and it’s grown to a large number of posts on all sorts of subjects. I decided they needed organized. And now they are.
You know how some bloggers write only about food? Others talk about DIY crafts? Certain authors pen daily devotionals? Not me—I just mix them altogether and write whatever is on my mind that day.

My blog is sort of like my mind—always roving from one subject to another. With the new organization, one can choose an issue of interest and eliminate the rest of the hodgepodge.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could organize our minds like that? Stay focused on one matter and remove the clutter. If I could do that, maybe I would sleep at night.
I have a search button. If you want to see what I’ve written about sleep or the lack of it, type it into the search bar.

Remember that loved Wadsworth poem? The Arrow and the Song? “I shot an arrow in the air. It fell to earth, I knew not where.” (see link to poem below) My blogs are like that. I’ve been shooting all kinds of things into the air, and I know they’ve touched hearts, but I don’t know whose or where.

Be sure to check the book section on my blog. My books are listed in order of publication. Would you like to purchase a special autographed copy of a print book? Send me a message with your request! You’ll find the info under the Autograph Books button, and I hope you’ll subscribe to my newsletter. It’s under the Newsletter section. I have a chat section too! Stop by and say hello. You’ll find new recipes, an inspiration, or maybe a chuckle for the day.

You can also see my books and bio on Amazon:

Healthy and Unhealthy Recipes

Orange/Lemon Chicken for Two


1 large boneless chicken breast
3 TB Flour
2 TB Olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
½ cup Lemon juice
½ Jar Orange marmalade, sugar free
½ cup Ketchup
¼ Mustard
½ cup White wine (optional)
Dash of tobacco to taste.

Cut chicken into bite sized pieces. Salt, pepper, and coat with flour.
Heat oil in a 12-inch nonstick skillet. Places pieces into skillet and cook thoroughly. Turning them as needed. Remove chicken to a plate. Remove most of the oil. Leave about a tablespoon.
In a separate bowl, combine sauce.  Taste it. You may want to add a bit more salt and pepper.
Add sauce to skillet, heat and reduce slightly. Add chicken back into Sauce.  Stir until thoroughly until heated.
Serve over rice.

Hubby likes the sauce sweeter than I do, and I often add a teaspoon of sugar. I sometimes add a sliced Granny Smith apple. I sauté it after removing the chicken and mix chicken and apple together with the sauce. Apple juice can be used in place of wine. I’m not a good cook, but this dish turns out well. Like me, Sarah, my chaotic angel, also needs cooking lessons. She’s a hoot and makes a mess in Sarah and the Angelic, Magical Makeover.

Odds and Ends

 Have you ever wished Thanksgiving and Christmas didn’t fall near each other? And how about Halloween? It’s right there, too. The proximity makes it difficult to decorate for each one.

Why not put up a fall tree? You can make or buy a few Halloween decorations, then after that trick-or-treat night, put in the Thanksgiving mementos.  After the turkey exits the house, convert the tree to Christmas.

My tree above was simple to do.  Garlands of colorful leaves don’t require much time and placing scarecrows among the branches add to the charm.  Anything works. Brown paper sacks with drawings from kiddos make interesting features to hang from branches.
Before I became a published author, I worked as an interior designer. A client decided her home needed a bit of tweaking, so she hired me.

She kept two huge trees up all year long and changed decorations with seasons. In January, her tree became a miniature winter wonderland.  February—it was hearts everywhere. From the reds and pinks of February, came the greens of March and Saint Patrick’s Day. In April, she decorated with spring time flowers.  May and June—Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.  She had all kinds of babies and children ornaments and included pictures of her own family among the branches. July brought flags and anything red, white, and blue. August and September, her trees possessed all things summer—picnic tables, watermelons, boats. October, the trees took on Halloween. In November, fall and Thanksgiving appeared, and December, she brought out the reds and greens of Christmas.

My book, Sarah: Laney’s Angel, has Sarah helping a decorator. Guess where the ideas came from?

Sunday, October 20, 2019

A Bluebird of Happiness

Years ago, I found this little framed picture you see above, and it's been in  every room of my house. It serves as a reminder; I'm not to worry, I'm to tell God my needs, and I'm not to forget to thank Him for His answers.  This prompt has brought me more comfort over time than I can remember.

I ran across Gretchen Clasby, the artist of the bluebird, way back eons ago. I called her and ordered two of these from her Cedar Hill Studio in Waynesville, NC. I have no idea how I found her in those decades past, but it's easy now via the Internet. Her link is above.

 She shipped me two pictures: one for me, and one for my sister. My sister and I have a habit of worry. It comes with our DNA, but Scripture tells us that worry can be overcome with prayer and thanksgiving. It's not easy, my friend, but yes, it's doable.

For me, it's a growth process. I've had the affliction of anxiety since childhood.  My mom and dad taught this ailment well. They worried about everything.  My dad was fearful of clouds. He'd wake us up an night, and we'd head to the cellar in the backyard. He'd even come to school and take me out of class!

My mom feared all circumstance. Everytime she heard an ambulance, she was convinced a relative was in trouble. She worried about each one until she spoke to them and knew for certain they weren't carried away in the zooming, loud ER vehicle.

I hated their fears, and I made my mind up when I was about six years old that I'd not be afraid of storm clouds, and I wouldn't go to another cellar unless a tornado was headed right toward me. When I see an ambulance, I decided to pray for whoever is inside, but I don't worry that I know them.

Hmmm? Maybe that's part of the "not worry" process. The decision. Make one and stick to it.

I made the choice to be calm in a rain storm. Now, I'm not mindless. I prepare. We live in Houston. We have hurricanes and flooding. I keep emergency supplies on hand, but I'm not terrified of a "possible" storm that might or might not occur.

So what do I worry about? Well, here's a few items: health, finances, old age, family, church, country, government, friends. Did I leave out one or two? Probably, but you get the idea. 

As a family, we memorized Phil: 4:6 when the kids were children. We still repeat it to each other as a means of encouragment. Here's an interesting tidbit. Our daughter, the one with Dementia, can still repeat this verse. She can't remember much of anything else, but this verse sticks with her and brings comfort. 

I remind myself that God knows our needs and has already provided for them. Will I like the way He plans to take care of them? Perhaps. Perhaps not, but there's one thing I know and don't worry about. He loves me and whatever He plans is, it's better than mine. My plan "B" will never be as good as plan "G."  That's G for God.

What do you worry about? I'm gonna guess I've mentioned a few worries we share.

Okay, here's something for you and me. Jesus tells us not to worry. Read his Words in Matthew 6:25-34.  Take a deep breath, seek His kingdon and righteousness, and relax. 

I'm working on it. Growing into it. How about you?

Tuesday, October 15, 2019

Old Fashioned Tea Cakes

Cookies, Snickerdoodle, Golden Brown, Delicious

This recipe is from the 19th Century.


1/2 cup butter
1 1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
4 tsp Baking Powder
1/2 cup buttermilk
4 cups flour
Pinch of salt
1/2 tsp baking soda.

Mix all ingredients together and throroughly chill for at least 2 hours. Roll dough 1/8 inch think. Sprinkle with sugar. Cut into small cakes. Bake at 375 for 7 to 8 minutes.

My grandmother made these cakes when I was a child, and I recall their goodness to this day. Do I make them? No, but I remember them, and I wish I could find a baker who made them. I'd buy them.

Cooking and baking is an art. I have a friend who defines creating delicious concoctions as her passion. It relaxes her. Can you believe it?  A few other friends enjoy quilting. Fancy dishes and sewing are two activites I seldom try.

I wonder how many arts we've lost?  Anyone remember tatting?

Border, Banner, Decoration, Floral, Pink Roses, Lace

The border on the above banner resembles tatting. Ladies once made this "lace" out of sewing thread into designs. A senior friend once gave me a tea towel she'd embroidered and then tatted the four edges. I kept it in a special place. I didn't want to use it or ruin it. Hubby didn't realize the value of the piece, and while looking for towels to use as he changed oil, he chose that beautiful piece of art.

What arts of today will be gone in one hundred years?

Perhaps we should learn some of the old ones. Bring them back. There's one I never want to learn. Making art object from hair. Can you imagine? That tedious art began in the 15th century. People collected hair and then twined them into neclaces, bracelets, or wall art. Yuk. 

Let's have a tea cake and a cup of coffee. Maybe we'll color in a coloring book. It was once enjoyed in days gone by, but it's the rage now. Things do come back. But no hair necklaces for me.

Tuesday, October 8, 2019


You may have power with all the saints to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.....Ephesians 3:18

The Apostle Paul spoke at least two languages, possibly four, and with all his understanding of words, he found it difficult to convey in language the love of Christ.

If he couldn't, how can we?

It's love to encounter, explore and experience. Spend a lifetime trying to grasp His love. You'll discover you can't.

PBG Insider: Gay N. Lewis Introduces her "Sarah" series

Sarah at Christmas