Happy Birthday To My Big Brother!

February 26 marks two important events in my life. Our only grand daughter turns one, and her great-uncle, my brother will celebrate his birthday as well. Lester Lee, alias Uncle Pester, Lester Bob, Plugger and Looney Lester will turn another year older and wiser. Being my older brother, Lester Lee has always been my mentor, teaching me the finer points of carpentry, plumbing, electricity and other not so formal skills such as philosophy, the art of falling off of a roof or out of a tree and not breaking a bone and the importance of a sense of humor. My big brother knows a lot about a lot of things. He was a well known wedding photographer in Tuscon, Arizona, an admired, successful elementary school teacher for over 30 years, a real estate developer (similar to Donald Trump), a ham radio operator and a funny uncle to our children.

I can't remember our early growing up years together, which is my memory's fault, until he went off to college at Abilene Christian College, which is now ACU. Lester always went on the wheat harvest during the summer vacation. For you that don't know what that is, it is where you hire out to a custom harvester and perform every job needed on the crew including but not limited to driving the combines, trucks and doing repairs. I later followed in his footsteps and learned that you also spend a lot of time waiting for the rain to stop, the field to dry out or moving on to the next location. He loved it and would do it today if he could.

I recall the time that he and a buddy of his were coming back into town from out in the country. The back seat of his car was loaded down with phonograph records. Here they were, sailing down a dirt road, not a care in the world. Until---they discovered they were one road over from the intended road and this one dead ended into a T. Results---broken records everywhere and the fence at the end of the road and his car were in a general state of disrepair. Thankfully, no body got hurt and the next day was spent fixing the fence. He had a thing for cars. No one could pack as much into the trunk of a Camaro as he could.

Later in life we would spend much more time together as we built his house together and worked on a number of apartments and rental property. I learned a lot from him that I continue to use today. Jennifer is especially close to Lester and now we have two reasons to celebrate February 26. Happy Birthday brother and many more.


Earlier in life; enjoying a big Frosty!

At a recent family get together; talking farming with Toby!

A quiet moment. Thanks brother for all you have done for me!

Happy Birthday, Mom!

This past weekend my two brothers and three sisters, along with our extended family, celebrated our mother's 90th birthday. Ninety years of living, wondrously filled with the peaks and valleys of everyday life, seasoned with the joys and sorrows that come into all our lives, but one lived with grace, honor and love. Married at age 15 to my father, ten years her elder, delivering two stillborn babies by the age of 18, and dealing with the greatest economic depression of our time, most people would not have given the union much of a chance of surviving. It only lasted 64 years until my father passed away in 1998 at the age of 90!

Mom's life never got to be too glamorous. It dealt more with survival on the farm and all too often consisted of hard work and hard times. I can't remember many details of their early years, having come along in the middle of the birth order when times had become somewhat easier. But, I recall enough to know that we didn't have a lot, but we always had food on the table due in part to Mom's resourcefulness. Big gardens meant survival with food through the year, but it also meant plenty of work; growing, harvesting and canning the fruits of her labor. I recall chores of picking peas, harvesting okra (a hot and itchy job that I hated) and shucking corn. She made the best creamed corn ever, but the kitchen was a mess for a couple of days with corn "milk" splattered over everything in sight.

Hoeing cotton was also a "biggee". While daddy plowed, we kids and Mama hoed cotton. It was always hot and the rows were always too long, but I wish I could go back and experience it again, but not for long! We took a break after lunch (after Mom fixed something to eat) and would lay down in the floor in front of the evaporative cooler and take a nap, knowing all too well we had to go back to the field when it cooled off to a comfortable 100 degrees for a "few" mores rows later that evening.

Mom inherited her sewing and quilting skills from her mother, my MawMaw. Mom saved every scrap of fabric and turned them into quilted works of art with names like Log Cabin, Double Wedding Ring and Little Dutch Girl. We still use many of those quilts today and they are still warm and comforting. She even made me a red blazer for my high school choir group. Someone later borrowed it and it was never seen again. It's probably just as well. I don't wear much red, unlike my Daddy!

Ninety years seems like a long time in some ways. But when you think back on those growing up years, it seems to have flown. We lived in about 6 or 7 places growing up and they all hold special memories because of family. I miss my Daddy, but I am thankful to still have Mom around to remind me of my heritage (she's a big genealogy buff, too). We had a great celebration of her life complete with old stories (mostly true), laughter, food, and her favorite time, church service together and all of us together singing a lot of "church songs". Her favorite song has always been Farther Along.

Happy Birthday, Mom!