Libby

I know it has been five plus weeks since my last post.   When I returned home from Florida, we picked up Libby our Miniature Schnauzer.  She wasn’t acting herself and had lost weight and her eyes were runny.  I took her to the vet the next day thinking she had an eye infection.   Unfortunately, I was given the news that she had Lymphoma.  The prognosis was not good, but I did expect to have a couple more months with her.   She had perked up some and was eating good and seeming not to know she was sick.

But things changed in the last few days.  She started going downhill quickly and we had to do the best thing for our sweet Libby.

Libby came to live with us back in September 2004.  She was a rescue dog.   We never really knew how old she was and knew nothing of her background.     She is the first dog I ever really had that was mine.   Libby really took me by surprise as I never consider myself a “dog” person but she loved me and taught me so much about unconditional love.  She made herself right at home in our house and in our hearts.   Our time with her was shorter than we thought it would be.  But I’m so glad she was ours for that time.

 

I’m sorry this is a sad post.  I know some of you already know thru Facebook about Libby.   I will get back into the blogging groove eventually.  I just wanted to let you know what has happened.

Thank you all for your support.

Joy

Old Florida

In my last post I ended with a note about the cowhide chair that  now sits on my fireplace hearth.    It has been in my family for 125 years and I feel honored to be the caretaker of  this beautiful historic piece.  In the second pictures you can see there is a little patch that still has hair on it.  I’m so amazed that has lasted on there all these years.

Here are some family pictures that I have recently come across.   The internet is truly amazing.   A cousin of mine was doing family research  online and came across some pictures of  our family posted by a lady in Texas.  We contact her and come to find out she is married to a distant cousin of mine and loves genealogy.   I have never met this cousins.   We now are comparing notes, sharing pictures and stories catching up via facebook and e-mail.  We hope to meet soon.  Who knew we both  grew up in Florida now live about an hour and a half apart in Texas.   They shared some of these wonderful old family pictures with me.

This is a picture of my great-great-great grandparents (seated).   See the chairs lined up across the porch.   One of these could possibly be the chair I have today.    This is truly old Florida living.   Yes, my family tree has deep roots in Central Florida and those are orange trees you see.  Notice the well pump on the right side of the porch.  On the left you will see a separate building that housed the kitchen.  The kitchen was built separate from the main house so if there was a fire hopefully the main house would not burn.   This picture was taken around 1910.  Clayborn Taylor (seated) was born in 1842 and his wife Sally was born in 1850. 

 

In the picture below my great-great grandparents are photographed along with four of their eventual eight children.  The wife is the daughter of the older couple in the picture above.  The little boy on the left next to his daddy is my great-grandfather Malcolm.  I love his short pants and dirty bare feet.  Once again, you see similar chairs on the porch.  This picture taken around 1900.

 

I will be leaving this week for a long road trip in the car to Florida.  It will be just me and the girls as Buster has to work.  Since I’m driving we (I) can take as many bathroom breaks as I want. ;0

I will check in on all your blogs now and then while I’m gone, but probably won’t post until I get back.   

Joy

Warms My Heart

 

We moved into this house five years and I was never crazy about the fireplace in our den.    So this spring we made a change…out with the old and in with the new look we chose for our fire place.

BEFORE:  The black hole…

AFTER:

We chose stacked stone for the fireplace and fieldstone for the hearth.  I’m so happy with the new look.  It seems to brighten up the room.    We also painted the walls  Sherwin Williams Latte.   The mantle is a solid piece of cypress.  I kept it. I sanded it smooth, distressed it and stained it a warmer brown.

The picture above the fireplace is very special to us.  The frame was handmade and designed by Keith’s dad.  He used old barn wood to construct the frame.   His dad passed away over a decade ago, so it is very meaningful to have this.

The art work in the frame is a pheasant painted by Artist Lynn Ash.  Lynn is my mother-in-law’s cousin.    Lynn is a lifelong resident of Tampa, Florida.  He was employed by Busch Garden’s in Tampa as an artist for years and is now retired.  He has painted so many beautiful wildlife pictures as well as the mural below.  The Tampa Bay area is my hometown, but  I haven’t lived there in nearly 20 years.    I have a small copy of the mural below by Lynn.  I just wanted you to see other work he has done.

In 2003, the City of Tampa's Public Art Program commissioned artist Lynn Ash to create a large painting that would weave together many of the notable aspects of Tampa's unique character and identity.  (from Tampagov website)

This is the 4’ x 8’ mural that Lynn painted and is in the lobby of the Tampa Municipal Office Building.  To read more detail about this mural you can visit the website above.

 

You will also notice on the fireplace hearth a chair that is near and dear to my heart.  This chair was handmade approximately 125 years ago and has been in my family all these years.  The seat is made of cowhide.  In a future post I will share pictures of my family dating back to the late 1800 – early 1900s and you will see what possibly is this chair on the front porch of their home. 

Here is a little closer view of the chair.

So the fireplace in our home is now a focal point of family history and treasured items.  Just the look I was going for.

  Joy

I’m Mature Now

A few weeks ago I pulled a box down from the storage area of our garage. I was looking for old family pictures.   I found my diary from my when I was a little girl.  It spanned several years.   Buster and the girls had many laughs thanks to my diary entries.

This particular entry was pretty funny from 1977.  I’m sharing it with you all…don’t laugh cause I don’t know if I’m mature enough to handle it.

If you can’t read my handwriting it reads…

Dear Kitty ‘77'  (yes, my diary had a name actually two: Kitty and Sarah)

today I’m in the 7th grade.  I’m mature now and I got a locker today.

I met some deaf girls  I don’t know there names.  They  can’t here nothing but silence.  I don’t know sign language but I’ll try to learn some

Dear Kitty

I am almost through with my Laura Ingalls Books.  I wish I had more I love them.

Who knew getting a locker and being in 7th grade made one mature.  Apparently, it did in my little pea brain back then.  After going back and reading some of the entries, I  was also very boy crazy.  I will spare you those details.  I think I should have quit chasing boys and worked on my grammar and spelling.

The school I attended started a deaf school around this time.  I think it was my first time being around deaf kids - thus my insight into their world.  Astounding huh.

In other news,,,, speaking of maturity…which I still wonder if I will ever achieve some times, Buster and I celebrated twenty-two years of marriage this weekend.  We had a nice dinner out.   Leah sat on the coffee table and took this picture of us before we left for dinner.

So….at what point in life did you start feeling mature or are you still waiting on that moment? 

Cars

Joanna over at Fifty Factor wrote a post the other day that was so fun.  She recounted how she got her first car and what kind it was.   I loved reading it.  It made me think back to my first car.  She named her cars, but I never have really.  Although Buster was driving Little Blue Thunder when I met him.  He names his cars sometimes.

I can not find a picture of my very first car, but here is what it looked like except for the wide green stripe.

  I found this picture on the internet of an original advertisement:

My first car was a 1977 Datsun 200sx.  My dad and I bought this car in 1984 during my sophomore year of college.  So it wasn’t new, but it was a great car and I loved it.  It was sporty and fun.   I remember the top of the back cloth seat was so faded and sun damaged.  You could poke your finger right thru the fabric.  But I didn’t care.   It got me thru the years of college that I attended and then  I rolled into Atlanta at the ripe old age of 19 ready to start working and a new life.

One morning on my way to work, I was in the middle lane of I-285  that loops the perimeter of Atlanta, GA and my car just quit.  It was 7:30 a.m. in rush hour -  bumper to bumper  morning traffic.  I was petrified.  I had no idea what to do.  This was before cell phones of course.  I could not even get to the shoulder of the  road.  I got out of my car and put the hood up and got back in and started crying. 

I remember all I could think of  while I was sitting there in my broken down car was the traffic report on the radio.   I just knew I  would be the one they were talking about.  I would be the one that was making a half million people late for work in Atlanta, Georgia that morning.   TEARS!

Anyway, this wonderful trucker (God Bless him)  came to my rescue.  He stopped his big rig right behind my car and got out and looked at the engine.   He immediately spied the problem.  One of the battery cables had popped off the battery.  He put it back on and tightened best he could by hand and my car cranked. I was so relieved and off and rolling again.  I looked under there too but I guess thru the tears I couldn’t see the dangling battery cable. ha.  I’m such a girl…I’m sorry.

Not too long after that the clutch went out.   I know it was normal wear and tear, but I started thinking I needed a newer car that wouldn’t break down on me.

So in 1986 I  headed out to the Nissan dealership by myself and found the car I wanted.  I fell in love with it. The headlights rolled up at the turn of a switch.  I felt so cool.   It was  a 1985 barely used 200SX, but now it was called Nissan and not Datsun.   I negotiated with a saleslady as I recall.  She was as new to selling cars as I was to purchasing them.   As we finished the negotiation I had the dealership call my dad in Florida and tell him everything they were telling me so I wouldn’t be making any huge mistakes. He felt like they were making me a fair deal so I drove off the lot in the first car I purchased on my own.  With the help of 48 month financing…. 

Here I am the proud owner of my first picked out and purchased myself car:

I wrecked this car (my one and only wreck so far) back in 1987 just  before Buster and I got engaged.

I was fine and it was repaired, but it was never really the same.    We continued to drive it for about a year after we got married and then traded for another car in 1989. 

So there you have it.  The story of my first car(s).

How about you.  I’d love to know about your first car.

Joy