You're invited ...

Marlene Terry

This year is shaping up to be one of the best. That is, October is just as it should be, rainy, misty and cool.
 

It's different, because for many of the past years, the day I chose to put up our outside Halloween decorations ended up so warm I was nothing but a pool of sweat before the task was finished.

The Treasure Valley is known for it's mild climate. ... Just don't want it too much of that from now 'til Christmas. 

... You know. The weather is always such a prime factor in helping us to forget our troubles and get us in the mood and anxious for the holidays ahead!

I also want  you to know that we (our family) take seriously, our ability to carve Jack-o-Lanterns. 

Most usually we meet the weekend before the 31st  — kids, grandkids and a neighbor or two and spend some time designing, and carving to our heat's content.

I almost always choose the traditional jagged teeth, sinister smile/smirk, triangle eyes and nose, Jack-o-lantern. But the years I've opted to compete against our show-off and very creative kids and make something unbelievable, well, they've been a lot of fun too.

"It's what you see when you look into  a kaleidoscope," was one smart-alecky comment about my first try at a very scary spider web design complete with spider.

And although I wouldn't go so far as to say it even came close to rivaling the Grime Reaper, the haunted house  and the other works of art that were produced during that particular pumpkin carving event, I did keep it outside and viewable until mid November.

... That's when someone replaced it with a inflatable turkey ... of all things.

So here comes the purpose of THIS column.

For the next few weeks you're invited to send in photos of YOUR Jack-o-lanterns, the reason for the design and all the wonderful associated memories that go along with it. ... Because, just like the weather outside ... it's going to help us to forget our troubles, and get us in the mood and anxious for the holidays ahead!

Want to be part of THIS pumpkin carving party?

Email YOUR stories and photos to me at my residence here "In a Nutshell (nutshellstories@gmail.com). 

Bent and unusable ...

Marlene Terry

Autumn brings more than a change of color for me. It's also brings memories of favorite activities and traditions.

For most of my growing up years, we lived in a tiny house behind the home of our landlords, Grandpa and Grandma Cheney.

What we called them says volumes about their ages and how really kind and caring they were to us.

... Suffice it to say that It was years before I knew that we weren't really related. 

There was never a holiday that we weren't included in their celebration, even Christmas when no matter what, we could count on wonderful baked treats and gifts for each of us.

I also looked forward to the family-like fall cleanup, that of course included raking leaves that fell from several ancient poplar trees that lined the driveway. It also included tidying up Grandpa Cheney's garage. 

... I most especially remember the workbench where he kept his tools ... and NAILS.

The Cheneys were from the old school, those who'd survived the Great Depression and extremely hard times. And because of that, they'd learned to be frugal ... nearly to a fault.

All summer long during repairs around his place, Grandpa Cheney would have one of us kids follow along, empty coffee can in hand, so we could pick up the nails that might drop onto the ground during the repair.

Besides the nails that would fall from the pouch he wore around his waist, were those that he pulled out for one reason or another, that needed to be replaced. 

There were also those he bent, pounding them in at a bad angle. ... He would always cuss under his breath whenever that happened. ... Those were placed in the coffee can too.

... The first year that I helped him I was understandably curious, and would ask from time to time why he saved those old, bent ruined nails.

"Just wait 'til fall," he'd say with a wink and a smile.

... Over the months the coffee can filled up and when fall came, I found out the answer to my question.

... And I never will forget standing at Grandpa Cheney's workbench, hammer in hand, happily engaged for hours. 
... It was under his sweet, patient tutelage, that I learned how to straighten out a bent, seemingly unusable nail, and make it ... well, most of them at least, not quite like new, ... but still good enough to be used again. 

... That is if you turned the nail and tapped at it just the right way.

... Wonderful season, fall!

♦ Hope you'll let me share YOUR stories and photos here at my residence "In a Nutshell." Email me at nutshellstories@gmail.com. 

"I love you too" ...

Marlene Terry

If I've said it once, I've said it a million times. I absolutely LOVE this time of the year.

Seems like something wonderful happens to us when temperatures cool. Being that schedules settle down some, and there's less work to get through outside, we tend to take the time to think ... especially about others, remembering those who have touched and still touch our lives.

Kids are great at remembering and always set a good example.

Throughout my life I've been privileged to work with youth groups in our church. Of course I've loved many wonderful teenagers because of that, but also kids between the ages of 8-11.

That bunch always seems to want to help out or perform a "secret service."

I've raked leaves off many lawns with them, weeded gardens, accompanied them on  Christmas Caroling excursions and their favorite thing to do, made special treats and delivered them anonymously with the "ring and run" method.

Those times they prefer to hide out in the trees and bushes and watch as the recipient opens the door to receive the gift.

It's always the same.

First there's the look of surprise  and joy. Then they'll walk out onto the porch and scan the trees and bushes hoping to discover who was sweet enough to do such a thing.

Last but not least are the comments.

"How nice," is a common remark.

"Wish they would have stayed and visited," is another.

.. And a favorite memory ...

"Thank you so much," one elderly lady called out into the night as she pressed to her heart the plate that held a big heart-shaped cookie with a "YOU ARE LOVED," icing message.

... "I love you too," she continued shouting with tears of joy.

That's why on Sunday, when the doorbell rang at my house and I opened the door to find my own wonderful plate of cookies ... chocolate chip and delicious ... with a "You've Been Booed" handwritten message, I couldn't help but shed a few tears of my own.

Amid the giggles coming from a distance in the dark, I stepped out onto my porch and scanned the trees and bushes hoping to discover who it was that was sweet enough to do such a thing.

... And by the way ... "I LOVE YOU TOO!"

♦ Hope you'll let me share YOUR stories and photos here at my residence "In a Nutshell." Email me at nutshellstories@gmail.com. 

Hoodoos of many colors ...

Marlene Terry

Fall is my favorite time to travel.
 

First of all, from now 'til snow flies the temperatures especially in the southern regions of this great country tend to be just right. It's also past the traditional tourist season, when standing in line at shops and fast food/snack places can be expected and lengthy, and the change of the season is in many varied ways, spectacular as well as colorful.

Actually, if the truth be known, my hubby and I are hoping to take a long weekend soon and see some of the sights of our neighboring state, Utah.

Just recently our adventurous son, Jim, made a weekend jaunt from his home in northern California to an area not too far south of Salt Lake City. ... And the photos he shared with us? ... Well as I said, and as you can see today, they were spectacular and gave us the bug to go see some of that ourselves.

I'm pretty sure most would recognize scenes from Utah's Monument Valley on the border of Utah and Arizona  and those from Zion's National Park as well. But a closer destination, for us at least, and every bit as beautiful, is the place that Jim visited, Bryce Canyon.

It's just 600 miles from where we live, which makes it, maybe not an afternoon drive, but certainly a doable few days trip.

Bryce is not really a canyon in a traditional sense, as it wasn't formed by the normal running river water process, but by millions of years of continual freezing and thawing temperatures and Mother Nature's sculpting.

The naturally acidic rainwater first worked on the limestone that was already deposited in a great basin there. Then after the freezing and thawing conditions greatly expanded the volume of the standing water, first into ice, and then followed that with a rapid melt, the remaining rock began to heave, crack and literally explode into those breathtaking white, pink, and coral rock formations, that are known in the scientific world as fins (ridges), windows and my favorite, the spindly hoodoos.

... Funny I think, that until Jim told us that those formations actually DO have a name, I really didn't know what to call the sculptures and spindly formations, that occur now and then ... basically because of the same process ... inside my freezer. 
... You know. Those brown, icy, hoodoos that occur sometime after I place one of my sodas in there  to get it cold FAST ... ... and then forget to take it out!

...BOOM!

♦ Hope you'll let me share YOUR stories and photos here at my residence "In a Nutshell." Email me at nutshellstories@gmail.com. 

B.F.F. ...

Marlene Terry

Got thinking the other day about best friends.
 

I've been lucky. There have been many wonderful people throughout my life who've left their influence as we experienced growing up together, school days, falling in love, marriage and beyond.

However whenever the thought of a best friend comes to mind the name that always pops up first is Judy Loveday.

We first met as little, little girls at Wilson Elementary. And from kindergarten up to 5th grade we were inseparable.

Judy lived with her mother and her little brother, Brent,  just down the block from me in a house about the same size as mine.

Neither of us were in piano, dancing or any other extracurricular activity that I remember. But we were happy and busy anyway as we invented our own pastimes and made plans for the future.

Our clubhouse, so to speak, was downstairs in the basement (cellar) at Judy's house.

To get there you had to move the bed to the right in Judy's bedroom. That's because it was the only way to open the door which was conveniently located ... in the floor, of course.

Once the door was open you had to descend more than a few steps through the darkness in order to reach the chain that turned on the light. And even then, the room below wasn't all that inviting.

That is, it wasn't all that inviting unless you had your best friend in tow. Then the journey always turned into an adventure that you could talk about for weeks.

Judy's mom worked. And on occasion she would leave instructions for a task that needed to be completed before she (Mrs. Loveday) got home.

Like the time Judy had to make a simple green salad for dinner.

Just happened to be on one of our planned, after-school meetings downstairs in the clubhouse. ... So I got to help.

We hauled the lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cucumbers and a big bottle of salad dressing into the cellar, with us, and planned to bring the needed utensils on the next trip down.

That's when we heard the cellar door close with a loud thud, followed by the sound of the bed being slid back in place.

"... BRENT!" Judy exclaimed angrily. "You open the door right now!"

We both knew it would be awhile. He'd done it before, leaving the door shut tight, not to open it again until just prior to his mother arriving home. 

The only problem?
Judy knew if her jobs weren't complete there'd be trouble, exactly why we had to make do.

In the corner of the room in a box with some other toys was Brent's cowboy hat, holster and gun. And we laughed when the inverted hat suddenly became a very nice salad bowl.
His gun? The salad tongs needed for mixing.

I still remember the look on Brent's  face when he finally opened the door and up we came with a perfectly-made salad ready to scoop from the hat to a regular bowl. 

"Here's your gun," Judy said handing him his greasy weapon. "Don't worry. We won't tell Mom what you did!"

... Needless to say Brent was speechless and even better, forced to wear his slimy hat through dinner in order to keep things looking normal for his mother.

Judy and me? 

... We enjoyed dinner immensely ... while giggling, poking one another and exchanging glances. ... It's what best friends do when they're on an adventure.

♦ Hope you'll let me share YOUR stories and photos here at my residence "In a Nutshell." Email me at nutshellstories@gmail.com.

The Mountain Man office ...

Marlene Terry

Watched with a giddiness I hadn’t felt for awhile when my hubby began the process of packin’ up everything in sight in order to head for the hills on a camping trip.  

And it was for more than my being happy for him that he could do something he really loves. It was also for me and the fact that this time, I didn’t have to go.

It isn’t that I don’t love being out-of-doors. I do. But most times I prefer doing it while happy and comfortable, riding down a paved road INSIDE our warm car.

 “But you can’t really get a feel for what’s out there if you never get OUT there,” my hubby tells me repeatedly.

The truth is, through the years I found out plenty about what’s out there and some of it ... well ... take for instance those outdoor restrooms, crannies, and Johns. ... Even saw a makeshift sign on one that stated that particular 3x3-foot cubicle with part of the roof missing was a "Mountain Man Office."

Whatever they're called, it's disturbing to stand outside one and know what's going to happen when you go in.

Even those that are well cared for and reasonably clean, require deep breathing exercises in order to have enough oxygen stored up so you won't have to inhale too much during your visit. It also helps to have combat arm movement skills in order to keep at bay, the 2-3 dozen flies awaiting your presence.

... Most important of all ... you need to bring your own supply of toilet paper.

There's nothing that can make you feel quite so helpless as noticing ... too late ... that the toilet paper roll provided on the holder inside has just one square left, ... and its GLUED IN PLACE TO THE CARDBOARD TUBE!

... Really. The sight of something like that can shut down a person's system for several days.

To summarize, I want you to know that  I’m more than happy to spend the whole afternoon in the hills, picnicking, hiking and/or 4-wheeling. And I’m right there along side my hubby, awestruck, with the wonderful sights and sounds of wildlife, and tiny streams rushing together for a meeting at a lovely waterfall.

... But after the hours pass by and nature REALLY begins to call, then I just prefer to be traveling at a high rate of speed toward home.

And why?

... For a meeting of my own, without SOME of the smells of the great outdoors and being up close and personal with SOME of the wildlife (flies). ... Safe in a beautiful place that's outfitted with plumbing that's INDOORS!

♦ Hope you'll let me share YOUR stories and photos here at my residence "In a Nutshell." Email me at nutshellstories@gmail.com. 

Something wonderful ...

Marlene Terry

I just can’t help but smile when I think about it.

On Sunday we attended church with our youngest daughter, her hubby and two of our sweet grandkids.

It was our 4-year-old grandson’s very first Sunday program, along with the other children of the congregation, ages 3 to 11, who one time each year are responsible for delivering an inspiring message to the ADULTS for a change.

I really don’t know what it is about those times. But there's something really wonderful about watching a group of children, all dressed to the nines, looking sweet and innocent as they sing special songs, tell stories and quote scriptures.

It also cracked me up to watch the entire front row. They were the youngest participants and included three little boys … our grandson was one, and three or four little girls who were lined up on the other side of the pulpit ... for a reason.  ...An obvious attempt to help them to keep their busy, little bodies focused and still, and add a little more reverence to the day.

The prayer was said, the introduction to the program was given and the pianist began with the accompaniment for the first song.

That’s when they … the kids on the front row at least … noticed who was out there watching them.

There were parents and siblings of course, but also aunts, uncles, friends … and us … several grandparents with ear-to-ear smiles, seated as close to the front of the chapel as possible.

Needless to say it was impossible not to throw kisses back to them in return for their excited, wide open mouth, exclamations of “That’s my grandma and grandpa,” which one or the other would mouth every few minutes, and the jumping up and down while waving “Hi Pop-Pop,” gestures.

… And I could tell I wasn’t the only one who was touched … and proud.

“I am a child of God,” the words to the song rang out through the room like one of those little butterflies that shows up early in the year to give hope to a winter-weary people, that in spite of the gray world of the present, another beautiful spring is about  to arrive.

“Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,” the song continued, a message to their families and teachers. 
“Help me find the way. Teach me all that I must know, to live with Him someday.”

Amid tears … ours … we listened as the children delivered their spoken parts. They weren't perfect, and some needed help from their teachers, who by the way, also had to dab away the tears. 

But each speech, priceless and profound, was a testament of the sincere and unwavering love the kids felt for their Heavenly Father, their families and for one another.

… At the end, the children hugged all those who were special and had come to see them perform. And then they scurried happily out of the chapel to their classes … completely oblivious to the impact they’d made on family and friends … and especially hearts.

… As I said, something wonderful!

♦ Hope you'll let me share YOUR stories and photos here at my residence "In a Nutshell." Email me at nutshellstories@gmail.com.