Our sympathy is with the family of Loren A. Dickey, who passed away Dec. 24. His services were held Dec. 30 at Macks Creek, Hedges-Scott Funeral Home, at 10 a.m. He leaves his wife, Freeda Dickey, and their two sons, Kevin of Linn Creek and Shannon of Maryland, grandchildren Kassandra Dickey and Kalvyn Dickey and several nieces and nephews. Interment followed at the Little Niangua Cemetery in Preston, Mo. He was 81 years old.
Last week’s paper told of Z. Pauline Eidson’s passing away. She was 91 years old — Sept. 21, 1929-Dec. 23, 2020. Her funeral was Dec. 28 at 1 p.m. at Hedges-Scott Funeral Home in Macks Creek.
Pray for Penny Foster’s nephew. He’s in a coma in the hospital. I’m sorry I have not been able to get a lot of news on our area being sick. I did not attend Sunday school and church this last Sunday. There’s ice on my gravel road.
As I sit here looking out the window, lots of ice is falling off the trees. My early peach tree has split in different places; it looks like the tree thinks it will be taken out when spring arrives. Most of the snow and ice are going, and I tried to think about something to write about warmer weather. Around 1942, our neighbors, the Jamisons, had been living in California, working on war items. When they returned back to their farm west of Branch, Albert started a strawberry patch. As a young girl, I picked those strawberries for 5 cents a quart box. The berries had to be piled up high in each quart box, and then placed in a carrier box that held 8 quarts. The carrier was a wooden box with short sides and a handle on top. When your carrier was filled with the 8 quarts, you marked where you were on the row of strawberries so you could go back and finish up that row of berries. You would carry your berries to the shack at the end of the patch, to get your tickets, and later then you would get cash for your tickets. I would stand at the shack and watch Mrs. Jamison crochet. I learned so much just from watching her. She crocheted bedspreads and tablecloths. We would get out of school, and the next day go to the strawberry patch, in the middle to the last of May. The berries had to be picked if it rained or there was hot weather.
In those days, the cemeteries did not have grass lawns in them like they do now. We had to take care of our own folks’ graves. Once, while the war was on, we didn’t have gas money for going in the car. Our dad’s brother, Jimroe and wife May, their children and family in one wagon, Dad, Mom and three of us girls in another wagon, down from west of Branch to Old Edith, Pleasant Grove cemetery to clean the graves. It took most of the day, so we took our lunch in the wagons. Just think, there was no plastic then. There in the back of the wagons were glass bowls of cooked beans, potato salad and good old pudding, etc. We took rakes, picks and shovels to fill in the graves. Us kids picked up rocks and sticks. Back then, on Memorial Day, every church had a big outside board table. Everyone put their food out, and they took time to visit with relatives and old friends. We learned to make flowers from wire and crepe paper to decorate the graves.
Things were, in some way, as they are today. If there is work, some people will work and some people will not work, if it’s not something you can do easily. It’s a new year. You can start your spring house cleaning. Clean your kitchen shelves, clean closets and drawers. Then when the weather gets closer to spring, you can clean your windows, curtains and drapes. If you wait until spring to start cleaning, you won’t want to be in the house when spring gets here. Then it’s time to be in the flower gardens outside.
Happy birthday again to Jay Bates. He has a cousin who also celebrates on Jan. 3. His name is Lon Moon, and he is four years younger than Jay. This next week, happy birthdays to Bricker Berry, Jason Trusty, Mason Whitworth, Kimberly Rhodes, John Webel, Dora Fathing and Noah Lynch.
Enjoy this week. It’s wintertime, but the weatherman said this will be a nice week. God is good to us all the time. We need to be thanking Him for all things.