I’ve had some old newspapers packed away for quite a few years just in case I needed them for reference or some “old time” news, but I have had an unusual spell come upon me to clean out some of my clutter and I’ve started throwing away some refuse and rubbish.
As I looked through the old newsprint, one of the older copies with its headline caught my eye. It read, “WANTED: SOMEBODY TO GO BACK IN TIME WITH ME. THIS IS NOT A JOKE. YOU GET PAID WHEN WE GET BACK. MUST BRING YOUR OWN WEAPONS. SAFETY NOT GUARANTEED, I’VE ONLY DONE THIS ONCE BEFORE.”
At some times in my life, I feel as if I could go with the author of this request without any questions asked. I grew up in the fifties and sixties, and my goodness, but those were some great years to be a young person. Everything in our lives was so different.
I went to bed every night never having dreams of wars, bad guys or “boogie men.” I dreamed of playing dolls with my best friend next door, riding our bikes until dark and cooking in my make-believe kitchen outside as I turned out perfect mud pies time after time.
We didn’t have a television until I was in the third grade, and then I remember the shows being that of sensical, practical family life like, “My Three Sons,” “Family Affair,” “The Andy Griffith Show” and “Leave it to Beaver.” There was no Chuckie, Annabelle, witches or any of the like that scares the ever-living daylights out of a youngster and, sometimes, even a grown-up.
Now in prime time, there are so many movie channels that can be accessed, even by young children (they are very tech savvy these days) that can cause them to never sleep alone again. Sometimes after one of these movies, which I very rarely watch, I sometimes don’t give my husband his half of our king-sized bed as I crowd him with fear.
Then there is the news, the scariest shows on prime time. After listening to who was killed by an intoxicated or addiction-clouded brain, we are once again feeling anxiety and frightened to go to a store after dark, pump gas, make a bank deposit or leave our back door open during the day.
In our capital city, someone is killed each and every day. We own a grocery store in Jackson, and it seems sometimes as if we are in a battle zone. And we also know our small towns are beginning to be no different.
Two weekends ago, when former President Trump was involved in a failed assassination plan, if not for the grace and mercy of God, things would have turned out most differently.
Yes, please give me the “good ole’ days” when nobody locked their doors, they left keys in their cars, raised their windows at night to get cool air, slipped out late at night to talk to next door best friends and never dreamed of all the “boogie men” lying in wait to pounce on us in a few more years.
If you miss me for a few days, I’ll be “back in time” with my new friend.
People have had so many extra squash this year, so I’m giving you a recipe for a good way to use them: Squash Cake!
For the cake:
2 cups self-rising flour
3 large eggs
1½ cups sugar
1 cup of good oil
2 cups of grated yellow squash
1 T. of lemon juice
1 T. lemon zest
Lemon buttermilk glaze:
2 cups powdered sugar
2 T. buttermilk
1 T. lemon juice
1T. lemon zest
This is a very moist cake.
