"Let Them Eat Cake"...by Gina Waite

Friday is the 4th of July and at my house we will be busily readying all the food for our family get together!  Of course we will have already dressed ourselves (and even our dog) in hand-picked patriotic t-shirts sporting our beloved and revered, "Old Glory!"  Now, I'm not certain how big a deal the 4th of July is at your house, but at ours...the celebration and traditions that have been passed on, and created, make for one of our favorite, and most memorable holidays...but it's our BBQ...that "takes the cake"...let me explain!

About ten years ago most of my brothers and sisters traveled to my house to celebrate the 4th together!  As I wanted our time to be enjoyable and memorable, I busied myself with ideas of fun activities, food and fireworks!  As the day neared when my family would arrive, I finalized little details of what would be on our 4th of July menu!  Knowing my Mom would be in attendance, I quickly determined brownies needed to be an option as a treat...but still looked over magazines (remember...pre-pinterest days) and books to find the coup de gras of ALL 4th of July desserts!  Then, I found it...a colored picture of a perfectly recreated flag...all encompassed in the sugary goodness of yellow-butter, cream cheese frosted, fruit-lined cake!

The rest of the 4th of July BBQ, as good as it would be, would pale in comparison to this butter-infused behemoth and as the stars and stripes would be recreated by using fruit, and in keeping the fruit fresh, I realized I would need to make it on the 4th of July!  Hoping my time in the kitchen would not consume the fun-filled day...I baked the cake on the eve of the 3rd and planned to decorate the cake mid-morning while most everyone would be engaged in activities and set-up!  

 As I started to spread the cream cheese frosting as a base-layer for the stars and stripes, I realized that a small audience of family onlookers had begun to form!  My brother Richard recommended that I try to have thirteen stripes of red raspberries.  My sister Mary asked if she could count out the fifty pre-made star sprinkles...and before I knew it, I realized that creating the flag cake would become a memorable 4th of July activity, for ALL of us!  ...And much to my delight, it tasted great too!

Fast forward ten years...almost the same people, planning the same details:  the food...will be fantastic, the family...missing our amazing Mother but most of us will be together, the fireworks...incredible to behold, but it's our flag-cake-decorator that may surprise most of you!  For with tradition, the transmission of this most beloved activity is being passed on from my generation to the next!  ...And I must say, she's a pretty fantastic little cake decorator!  Happy 4th of July everyone...enjoy your family and "let them eat cake!"  

♦ Hope you'll share YOUR stories and photos with us at: nutshellstories@gmail.com. 

  

Star Spangled Banner...by Francis Scott Key

"Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light, 

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming, 
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, 
O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming? 

And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, 

Gave proof thro’ the night that our flag was still there. 
Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave 
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!"

 
- Francis Scott Key, The Star-Spangled Banner, 

September 14, 1814

Picture courtesy of Gene Petty

"Live"...by Jim Terry

I always find it interesting in the English language, as in other languages, that a word can mean something totally different contingent upon the context it is used in even though it is spelled the same.   For instance…the wind blows verses you wind a clock. You go to the fair verses Life is fair.  Do you bow to the audience or ride on the bow of a ship or does that girl have a bow in her hair?  For my purposes today; however I wanted to examine the word “live.”

Let’s look at the first meaning of that word…

- One of my favorite shows on television due to his comedy routines is “The Tonight Show” with Jimmy Fallon. As you know, this show is taped “live”. 

- If you go to a nightclub or even a restaurant they will sometimes have “live” music.

-  Newscasts can sometimes be broadcast at a “live” scene.

-  If you’re an electrician and work near “live” wires, you need to be careful.

The second meaning to this word can be associated with some of the examples given below and is the definition I want to focus on today…

-  You “live” your life.

-  I had to “live” on the college campus, while I was going to school.

-  I wonder what it was like to “live” in the 50ties.

-  She was diagnosed with cancer and may not “live” much longer.

And why am I pointing this out might you ask? Well, I was able to witness a wonderful person and great man that I know, that helped put into perspective what it means to really “live.” 

Within a short five-month time frame within the past year, this person not only lost his wife of fifty-one years but also his own Mother who almost made it to one hundred years old.  He has also withstood several ups and downs of the economy with his business over the years.  Those of you, who work in an industry that fluctuates with the economy like construction, know all too well how hard it can be financially when times get tough. And when those times were tough, he was the first to sacrifice anything he had for the sake of his family or for others in need.  This man has also survived being the father of eight children and withstood the elements and factors in life that can tear a family down or apart by being their protector or as his late wife put it…"their Superman.”

If you are familiar with the movie, the comic book or the character of Superman, you all know that he had one weakness…KRYPTONITE.  Kryptonite was a radioactive substance from Superman’s home planet on Krypton that rendered his powers feeble and absolutely useless.  

Again in reference to this man that I know who lost his wife and his mother within five months of each other, you would think that something as traumatic as this would be one’s kryptonite right?  In this case; however, I believe it only strengthened his armor and his will to “live.” 

This man one night was feeling a bit defeated and was crying from, what I thought was, the loss of two very important people in his life.  I asked him if there was anything I could do to help?  He looked at me with his pale green watery eyes, tears running down his cheek and said, “I’m sad because I also am approaching the end of my life and I still want to “LIVE!”  Being dumbfounded and astonished at what I just heard, I also began to cry with him.  

Isn’t it normal or definitely EASIER for us to find the room of self pity and say, “I can’t live without them” or “I don’t want to live anymore” with a situation such as this or when we experience the death of a loved one? 

I can proudly say that this man I speak of—SUPERMAN—is my Father.  He didn’t even let this, in spite of his heartache and what might be a very negative and detrimental situation for most of us, become his kryptonite.  He is an amazing person, parent and best friend that has once again taught me, and hopefully all of us, another powerful lesson.  Don’t just “live” your life…”Love the life you LIVE and LIVE the life you love!” 

"Thanks Dad. I love you!"

P.S.  It has been just over a year now since my Mother started this blog.  Thanks to all of you who have commented, liked, posted and shared with us...You have helped the Terry Family "LIVE!" 

HAPPY TUESDAY and "LIVE" it as if there is no tomorrow!

Swords and Sailor Hats... by Ben Hazlett

"Can I see your sword, grandpa?"  "Yes," my Grandpa Hazlett would respond.  Then while pointing at his Marine officer sword display on the way, he would say "see, there it is. Now you've seen it."   This senario was repeated at least once every time we visited.  At first it was just a cool sword, but as I grew older I began to realize what it meant.  

That sword along with medals, photos, dress uniform, the close-cut Marine haircut (which he continued to wear as long as I knew him) and the American flag which was always flying outside, were all symbols.  They were a symbol of a man who dedicated years of his life to the United States Marines and his country.  They were a symbol of a man who served tours in Vietnam, far away from his family.  A family and wife, who likely wondered and often worried that they might never see him again.  They were a symbol of a patriot who loved his country and his family and fought to protect our freedom.  

My Grandpa Hayden had similar symbols, though they were often less visable.   There was a flag and an unmistakeable love for this country.  Once, however, I interviewed grandpa about WWII.  He took out an old ammo can, openned it, and produced a scrap of metal.  He talked about his service in the engine room of the battleship USS Idaho.  One day, on his way up to the deck, a kamakazi pilot dove out of the sky and aimed for the hull.  A deck gunner spun around just in time and blast him out of the sky. The plane was so close that parts of the plane were scattered all over the deck.  "That piece of metal you are holding is a peice of that plane," my grandfather said.  

This son of a Swedish imigrant farmer was thrust into one of the worlds most terrible wars to fight for the freedom of his family's new country.  That piece of Japanese plane I held was a symbol of yet another great man and Navy sailor who took his place in the fight for freedom even at the repeated risk of his life.  During his service, he spent countless hours in the engine room, listening to depthcharges and torpedoes, and wondering if the next explosion might be the last he heard.  His ship provided altillery support for the Marine assault on Iwa Jima.  

Both my grandfathers were themselves symbols of freedom, sacrifice, and love.  They helped protect our freedoms and shape this country and the world.  And their service helped shape them and thier posterity.  Being proud to be an American wasn't just a line from a Lee Greewood song, it was a character trait that was infered as the grandson of men who served their country in war time. 

On our great nation's birthday this year, I can't help reflecting on all of the men and women who have sacrificed so much to make and keep us free.  I am pround to have a personal family legacy of swords and sailor hats and the great men who taught me what it means to be free. 

My Boys...by Mary Hazlett

Growing up in my large family definitely had its ups...and it ups.  I remember being 4 or 5 years old and being at home with my mom .  It was difficult for the youngest of eight to be without her siblings.  I usually missed my brothers so badly that I would ask to take a nap just to speed up the day.  Most week days involved the same routine.  Get up and get ready for the day. Around lunch time, I would help mom prepare food all the while eating a cup full of chocolate chips and then watch Mr. Rogers which was immediately followed by Sesame Street.  This was the time I would usually close my eyes and take a snooze.  My mom finally asked me why I tried so hard to sleep and I replied, "I am waiting for my boys."

My brothers were so much fun for me as a kid.  We spent hours jumping on the tramp, drawing, hide-and-go-seek, pretending, and playing our army-navy club "The Falcons".  My brothers were my everything.  

Never would I have guessed that after a once very full house emptied that I would find myself once again waiting for my boys.  Family has been such a bright and important spot in my life in soooo many ways.  My wildest dreams would not have guessed that I would be blessed, once again, with darling boys.  So now the years have passed and I find myself delightfully waking up finding that "My Boys" have come home once again!  I am one LUCKY girl!!

**Please share your stories with us at nutshellstories@gmail.com

"Luke, I Am Your Father"...by Gina Waite

AHHHHH...summmer!  The colorful, late evening sunsets...the smell of fresh cut grass...the crisp sound of someone cutting a watermelon...AND the lazy days of summertime shenanigans!  I'm certain you know what I mean, I think we ALL have been there!  You remember those activities you find yourself becoming extremely excited about being involved in...mostly because you have so much free-time that repeating the iconic lines, "Luke...I am your father" into a box fan after your third basement flood still seems original and very James-Earl-Jones-esque!  (I may, or may not have, engaged in this activity with my kids just a week ago...sans the basement flood...sorry to parents who had to experience it WITH the basement flood..."tis the season!")

I remember the summer my brother Mike, and I, decided to recreate the roller skate disco craze in our very own garage!  Imagine the delight of my parents as we explained our desire to scrub the garage floor clean!  I recall there was very little hesitation in my Mom's validating reply...but our decision to engage in such an activity was purely motivated by our mind's eye vision of ourselves...rockin' out on roller skates...to the musical stylings of  Michael Jackson (consequently the only cassette tape I ever, actually wore out by listening to it so much!)  I coveted Mike's flawless skill at skating backwards and was determined that by the end of the summer I would have that skill mastered!  Like Ahab, I stared down "Moby Dick" (my inability to skate backwards) and conquered my fears...I was a skating-backwards-pro by the end of the summer...thousands of skating hours later!

Or how about the summer that my siblings and I collectively decided to hold our own Olympics!  No doubt it was after we all watched as Mary Lou Retton executed her perfected, and now legendary, "vault" exercise!  The pride we felt in watching her perform seemed to encourage us all to reach the same level of recognition by competing with other able-bodied athletes.  Able-bodied and much less skilled than the traditional athlete, we chose to compete in events like Olympic turf-dancing.  Noted for it's al fresco, grass-floored venue, Olympic turf-dancing became a fast favorite UNTIL the night Lora made the infamous decision to incorporate a prop.  A broomstick which she used to hold onto while she walked her legs out until her body, straight as an arrow, was almost parallel with the ground...all while keeping time to the catchy, Jackson 5 - Mick Jagger duet, "State of Shock!"  The aptly named song took on new meaning when the broomstick slid out from underneath Lora while onlookers (mostly her seven siblings) gasped in shock!  It was tragic for Lora to be deducted in her scores by the judges (also her seven siblings) so acutely while at the pinnacle of her Olympic success!

Last, but certainly not least,  the year Ringling, Barney and Bailey took residence in our backyard!  Most assuredly the year that my Mother had introduced us to the movie, "The Greatest Show on Earth!"  How could you watch something like that and not walk away with the desire to "fly on the trapeze" or "walk the tight rope?"  Without the proper "venue" for our circus, we became resourceful and used whatever we could find to "make due!"  This was especially tricky when  re-creating the tight rope walk!  My brother's and I knew where some nautical rope would be available (otherwise known as my Dad's fishing gear)  and we knew that it must be a quality, heavy duty rope to withstand our full weight...why we didn't consider the post strength that we were tying the rope to, is beyond me!   The tree's, otherwise known as tight rope posts, were well on their way to becoming beautiful and strong!  A quality that would have continued had they not have been forced almost completely horizontal by the weight of the "Terry-Tight-Ropers!"  I'm pretty sure "State of Shock" would have been perfect theme music as my Dad bolted out the open screen door to find his fishing gear in use to "fell" his prized trees!

As I said before...summer shenanigans...those activities that would normally seem impossible, or just plain stupid, end up engaging "children" everywhere in hours and hours of creative fun!  For those of you who are interested in skeet shooting, we recently recreated the sport by adding in the obstacle of not only hitting the clay pigeon but piercing through my Dad's down-filled sleeping bag as well!  As much as I'd like to expound on that summer shenanigan, I think I'll save that story for another Nutshell! 

♦ Hope you'll share YOUR stories and photos with us at: nutshellstories@gmail.com. 

Understanding and Living Life by Soren Kierkegaard and Mike Terry

Photo Courtesy of Mike Terry