The Good Samaratian In Town

The other day as I got something for the angel tree, I couldn't help but think of a time in my childhood and smiled. I wondered was I changing this child's life as mine was profoundly changed. This story I'm about to tell truly inspires us and has always reminded me who I am today. Hope you enjoy.

Many of you that know me, know that I grew up poor and for those of you who didn't know, well, you know now. We didn't have much and what we did have, we cherished knowing full well if we broke it there was no replacing.

Christmas was always slim around our house. My father may have had a blue collar job, the pay was minimum and Christmas bonuses were far few and in between.

Somehow though, my parents managed. They usually went to re-sale shops or the dollar store to get Christmas. We always had something under the tree. It may not have been much but it was something.

I believe people come into our lives with a purpose. Sure it may only be briefly that we know them or it could be a life time. But in either case, people venture into our lives for a reason and I believe it when I tell this story of the Good Samaritan in town.

I remember one year was a bad year. I mean bad. And Santa was probably not going to be coming to the house like he had in the past. I was a teenager by this time and saw things that my younger siblings were unaware of. By then I had quit making Christmas list, knowing full well I wasn't going to get what I wished for.

We did have a Christmas but it was fairly slim and I was grateful for the items I received. Most of the stuff was second hand but that didn't matter, for us kids it was Santa had came to the house.

Well, one day a very nice man came to the house. Trent Thomas was his name. I'm not sure if my father was working for his family at the time, but I do remember my father worked for them at one time. Anyway I remember Trent coming up to the house and Daddy went out to see him.

Later daddy returned with four gift wrapped boxes. My father said Santa came by while he was out talking. The boxes were nicely wrapped and the way they were addressed made us kids laugh.

Instead of names on each package, apparently the Mr. Thomas had a time trying to remember four children's name. So, on each box it read; the oldest girl, the youngest girl, the oldest boy, the youngest boy.

Well, that's what my father did, gave each of us our present. We tore into those little packages like there was no tomorrow. I really can't recall what my siblings got, but I remember what I got; a plush Teddy Bear.

I was beyond thrilled. It was so soft. I remember for months I kept that teddy bear nearby for comfort when things got bad around the house.

Even though the teddy bear, which I still, have; was a simple gift. That simple gift to me was a signal someone out there in this big old world cared about me and my siblings.

Now most people would have just said I did my part to society and be done with it. But Mr. Thomas was different. The following year we got another gift from the family. That year I received a watermelon necklace, it too, I still have. But the following year would be the year that would actually change my life and make me who I am today.

I know many of you have inspired to be something because of something tragic in your life or what you believe. I was inspired by a family who gave me the tools to be who I am today.

That year Mr. Thomas brought by the gifts and as usual my father handed them out. I still can't recall what my siblings got but I do remember what I got.

I opened my gift and inside was this notebook, but not just any notebook. I had seen these notebooks all over school. For those of you who are young and reading this I don't mean computer laptops. I mean a notebook that held paper.

The notebook was blue and on the outside were clear Ziploc plastic covers. This was the fancy version of the Trapper Keeper, all the rage when I was in school.

Girls really liked them. They would have their favorite teen idol's picture they had cut from the teen mags and place them in the clear pocket.

I was going to be like the others now and have me a Trapper Keeper and could put pictures in the clear sides. Have to say, I really didn't have any teen pictures at the time so I would be searching for a few of those.

Inside my trapper was notebook paper. I'm sure it was just a ream of the stuff, but it sure seemed like two or three packages filled it. I also got pens and pencils to go with my new notebook and paper.

Now most kids would probably think this was a stupid gift, but for me it meant the world. You see, I did a lot of day dreaming as a child.

As the oldest I felt it was my job to keep the siblings dreaming too. So many nights while we were all trying to get to sleep I remember telling stories until we all passed out. I sometimes took old school papers and wrote on the back of them story ideas I had.

I know this is weird when I say this, especially coming from a teenager at the time, but I thought it to be a sign. A sign I should write down all my stories or at least my ideas and lock them away from the rest of the world.

Later I would sit in my room and write poems and short stories and dream of the day I would be a writer. I did this for hours. My imagination went wild with stories all because someone gave me paper and the writing tools to do such. Of course it would be my teacher, Mrs. Wylie Jean Stokes, who would foster those writing skills that were inside of me.

The following year, and many years after that we would receive five dollar bills instead of the usual wrapped package. And every year I always bought pens and paper along with a little candy. I would go to my room and write.

Trent Thomas gave to us every year, gave me something, the one thing that to this day reflects who I am, Texas Author Carla Landreth.

So remember the next time you go out your way to help a child, you could be helping a future doctor, lawyer, teacher, policeman or writer.

Now wait, this story isn't over! That's what you are saying. The burning question you want to know is who did I put in my Trapper Keeper?

Good question. Well, this is the kicker. I convinced my grandma to buy me one of those teen magazines with the stars in it. She had this funny notion there might be a picture of Rudy Valentino, she had a crush on the dead man. She already had a picture of Clark Gable. As a teen I rolled my eyes knowing full well that wasn't possible but I wasn't going to argue.

In my Keeper, I had Michael J Fox, he was on Family Ties at the time, Billy Hufsey, he was on Fame, later I would get signed picture from him, in fact several, before he dropped off the face of the earth, and well I had a group picture of the A-Team. I traded off John Travolta and Ralph Macchio for it. I had a severe crush on Faceman or at least the guy who played him--Dirk Benedict. I was able to later collect a few more pictures of the A-team by trading. As they say, I grew up from adolescent heart throbs and moved on to greener pastures.


Books by Carla Landreth
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=carla+landreth

That New Invention. . . Satin Balls

Does anyone remember the little invention of the satin balls? You don't see them much anymore I guess if you go to E-bay they will have them, but for the most part they are a distant memory for some.

The first ones to come out were made of Styrofoam, covered in millions of little strands of satin. Any color in the book was out there, blue, red, white, green, pink, you named it, it was out there. Later they could be bought made of plastic covered in the same satin.

They were the latest craze to hit the Christmas market since the lit lawn moulds. Who could forget them they would be all shiny and satin and placed on your tree? It was the new invention for Christmas balls instead of the old glass balls.

My Aunt Carolyn bought them and gave them away as Christmas presents one year after she bought beads and had them beaded up like they were some fancy Faberge Christmas ball for the rich. I remember both grandparents running out buying them a set of the latest invention.

I remember the kids talking about this shatter proof balls their parents bought instead of the old stand by glass balls. In fact, every tree you met had shiny satin balls.

Now you know with every good thing there is always a draw back. These beautiful satin ornaments had their share; the biggest problem? Well, let's say you put the ornaments up in a box like you did your other little ornaments. Then the following year you brought them down to put on the tree and wham! Those shatter proof balls weren't snag proof.

That's right; those pretty little balls were now like mice had invaded your pristine box and had a field day with the satin. Nobody knew that when you put them up you were to remove the hooks, who knew. It never failed if one came undone so did the rest.

Now you would think this would have deterred people from going out and buying them another box of these little shiny ornaments; wrong. People thought they were so pretty they couldn't resist. And our fine American stores discovered this and plotted to make more money by just about only offering these satin balls or the expensive glass ornaments, which had fallen out with the public.

I can't say they weren't pretty, they were. But you know a many of ornaments went to the trash to be forgotten. I myself thought the satin balls were pretty but I'm a type of person thinking our old ornaments are just as good and they had a memory to go with them.

Sure these Satin balls made for an interesting tree and were cheaper than glass but for me they just didn't have the luster as the handmade ones or the glass ones that dolled up a tree.

My father had been eyeing these satin balls for a while and one Christmas season he had decided to replace our old ornaments with the new and fancy satin balls. He had joined the Satin ball craze!

Now he didn't want to mix these nice ornaments with the others he already had. In fact he informed mama the others can go into the trash; for which they did.

My kid brother, Jason and I weren't pleased with this new idea of his. We liked our old pink, red and blue glass balls. Sure some were losing their luster, but we've had these balls every since we can remember and tossing them aside wasn't setting well with us.

I have to say when it came to Christmas my father controlled the tree. We hardly got to put an ornament on the tree without it being moved by him. I mean I do that now, but I do it when the kids aren't looking; like when they have gone to bed. By then they have forgotten where they put the ornaments. Not my father he did it in front of you with a few choice words that usually damped our holiday spirit.

It was the Christmas holiday vacation and we kids were out of school. We became bored rather quickly and rather quickly our mother shoved us kids outside.

We had this old barn it was quite nice actually for a barn. It had a wooden floor and the roof didn't leak. Part of it was used for housing chicken and goat feed from the elements. The other part was used as our play house.

Our play house was everything to us it was a house, a school, a department store, grocery store, even a cruise ship at one time. You see we had an imagination and all we needed were a few things to help us along. I remember our play money was cut up newspaper with numbers on it. I remember digging in the trash getting out old cans, cleaning them and using them for our grocery store. Our old school work that we brought home was used for our own little play school.

We used our imagination and this holiday break wasn't going to change that, but we had become bored. As we sat there at our little table and make shift chairs (five gallon metal buckets) we were still bummed about the ornaments that had been tossed into the trash.

Well, that is until we found out Jason had fetched them out of the trash. He had some how managed to hide them from our father. He brought them out so we could stare at them on the table. We wondered what we could do with them. We didn't have a tree nor did we have any bailing wire or string to hang them from the rafters of the barn.

Then I remembered seeing a blood weed, some of you call it a milk weed. It's a pesky weed that when you cut it bleeds out milky stuff. It's also prickly if you let it go and can become a bush. Well, I remember one in the very back of the property had grown quite big and since the cold had sit in the weed had dried up.

I gave Jason the idea to go out and chop it down while I found a bucket of some sort to put dirt in for the tree. We had to have a tree stand so the bucket of dirt would do just fine.

It took him a while but he finally came back with the weed that had a three inch stem which meant Jason had to get the axe because the roots where too deep and he couldn't bend it to break it. The thing was too prickly to pull out of the ground as well. I had the bucket which was nothing more than an old feed can that had accumulated a hole in it and had become useless to feed the chickens with.

We put the weed on the table and with our two other siblings, we decorated our so called tree with the old ornaments.

Jason pointed out we needed garland, something our father didn't throw out. So we took some of those old school papers and colored the backs of them and made them into paper chains.

I wasn't pleased with a naked tree I told him. Meaning it didn't have any presents under it. Once again we dug into the trash and found some small boxes my parents had thrown away. We got some newspaper and wrapped them up, later sneaking a bow or two from the bow box.

For days our mother noted we sure were going outside and playing a lot in the barn. She never went to the barn so she just assumed it was just us playing around.

We knew we could get into trouble for digging in the trash we did before, so we weren't going to chance it this time, by telling mama what we had done. However where there is a good plan there is always a flaw; especially when children are involved.

You see, we forgot that our father would be checking the barn at some point to make sure the chickens and goats had enough feed. We never thought about that.

So you can imagine what four children did when that darn barn door opened and there stood our father. We came off our buckets as they say and stood beside each other. One moment we are admiring our handy work the next we know our father is going to tear it down and whip us.

Jason and I dreaded this moment. Once he stepped into the barn we knew we were dead. First we would get a whipping for digging in the trash, another for using the axe to cut the weed down, another for using tape to wrap empty boxes, another for stealing bows, wasting glue, our list of whippings was longer than our Christmas list. If only we had thought about him checking on the feed.

We were ready for the yelling and the whipping that we would receive, however my father must have been hit in the head that day.

To our surprise, yes, he cursed, even in the good mood that man cursed. But to our surprise, he thought it was cute. We haven't figured out if we just caught him in a good mood or if he really thought what we did was adorable as my mother quoted.

Of course we explained we like the old glass ones as well as the new ones he bought, but there were still some good glass balls and felt he shouldn't have thrown them away.

One thing was for sure, the following year and some years after that some of our glass balls would be perched with the satin balls or plastic balls or handmade items. Just because it's old doesn't mean it needs to go to the trash.



Books by Carla Landreth
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=carla+landreth

Grandparents and Christmas Lights Don't Mix

When I was real young my maternal grandparents would have their evening meal called, supper. Afterwards, they would clean up and would go outside and sit on the lawn to watch the world relax and come to a close. Yes, many nights they sat outside until it was nearly ten o'clock then they would call it a night and get ready for bed. That was the schedule and as a child it was hard for me to understand why. Many times if it wasn't too hot, grandma took us walking and that was fun. But for me and my kid brother Jason, we would play outside not caring one bit what we did until it was bedtime.

Now when it became too cool or too wet to sit out, Grandma had another plan of action. We could watch television that was only in black and white. Not that I wasn't glad to see television, but frankly, watching Charlie Angels in black and white didn't do the show much good and frankly Lawrence Welk looked much older if you asked me. If you weren't into black and white television then there was a game of checkers. That was the only game grandma had besides jacks. Sometimes grandma re-read the paper. Depending on the weather, the radio was on instead of the television. But most of the time we sat outside enjoying the end of the day.

Well, one Christmas, my grandma wanted to get out and see the lights. You have to understand they never drove in the evening, unless something bad happened to a family member and had to go to the emergency room. They sat in lawn chairs on the lawn like slugs talking. Well, my grandma got the notion she wanted grandpa to take us all out in the green Mercury and look at the festivities of lights that bestowed the little town of De Leon, Texas.

Jason and I were so excited. It was a treat that grandma made such a suggestion now it was convincing grandpa to take us on this little excursion.

I don't know if it was grandma's firm voice or her nagging. But grandpa finally gave in, and said he would take us. So as soon as it became dark grandma bundled us up. She made sure we went to the bathroom and then she shuffled us off to the car.

Grandpa had already been out in the Mercury warming it up. He was wiping the window with his gloved hand so he could see out. In the older days, car heaters didn't defrost windows to well, so many old men and some ladies would use their gloves to wipe the window from the fog that would accumulate inside the vehicle.

We all piled into the car, my grandpa the designated driver may have had a license but I can guarantee you he didn't have insurance or possible brakes. Jason all bundled up like a blizzard had just hit De Leon, stood in the floor board of the car near the door, so he could look out the window while I was just as bundled up, and sat on my grandma's lap.

Now this is the point of the story I should explain for those of you who don't understand. As a child I could remember you could drive a car through town without insurance and no seat belt laws existed, much less the belts in the cars. By today's standards grandpa would be in jail.

As Jason and I were glued to the window, grandpa wasn't sure were to start. Well, Jason and I were connoisseurs of the town Christmas lights and we were more than eager to point the way for grandpa while he did the driving.

Grandpa drove slow as we told him where every house was located that we knew was lit up for the Christmas season. I really have to be honest, when I say this, I don't think my grandparents ever went looking at lights, I mean it. It was like leading the blind through town and children were the Seeing Eye dogs.

The reason I thought this was the fact every time we came to a house my grandpa would pull off the road into a ditch and stop and stare before moving on. Not like our father who only slowed down long enough to get a glimpse then move on like the rest of the world.

No sir-re bob, grandpa wanted to make sure grandma was happy and what better way than to pull into a ditch for which we could get stuck and look at lights.

We had so much fun. Even though Jason and I had seen the lights on a regular basis grandma and grandpa hadn't and they took their time which resulted in us seeing more than we thought existed on people's lawn.

My grandparents were getting in the spirit of things as grandma talked about the amazement of lights. We saw it all. Houses that were only red and green, some had all the colors of the rainbow, some had the lit up lawn moulds and others had Nativity scenes; those were grandma's favorite.

Now as we were getting close to downtown my grandpa made a comment that dealt with a bathroom break. This meant to me and Jason the ride was over, and it normally would have been. But my grandma having too much fun reminded grandpa she was always prepared for an emergency. That was one thing grandma was always ready for an emergency.

My grandma's purse was a Mary Poppins's bag. Meaning, my grandma had everything, including, band aids, tissues, gum, camphor phenique, her checks, a few family photos, Tums, (grandpa had to have them on a regular basis), peppermint candy, a Swiss army knife and this collapsible cup for drinking water. That was just her purse! She also kept a gallon of water in the back seat floor board for drinking along with a coffee can if you had to pee.

My grandpa was feeling one of those moments for the coffee can. As soon as grandpa got us down town grandpa stopped and let us get out so we could see the store fronts of big De Leon, Texas. While he went to the alley to do other as they say.

Lights and garland went across the main street, while lit garland trees, Santa's and stars hung off each light post in town. The store fronts were decorated as if we belonged to a big city. It seemed that even the empty buildings had something in them.

Town was beautiful with the Christmas spirit. My grandma took her time like an aging Queen Elizabeth clutching her black purse with both of her hands, pushing her glasses up to take a closer look at the store fronts. We knew she was window shopping as we walked along.

After we went up one side of the street, we went back down on the other side eventually meeting grandpa back in the Mercury. We again assumed our sitting positions and grandpa had us off searching again for Christmas lights.

We had followed Main Street and were near Higginbotham's funeral home, which was just on the edge of town, when suddenly out of now where there were some big blue and red flashing lights. Something Jason and I didn't recall before. My grandma too enthralled with the sights of Christmas said, "I don't know where those lights are, but they sure are bright and pretty."

My grandpa always had one saying, "I'll be John Brown." He never cursed at least not in front of us kids. It was always, "I'll be John Brown." You knew just by the way he said it, what was exactly wrong.

This time it wasn't his usual fluster tone nor was it his, I've had enough tone. This time is the worried tone. He informed grandma those aren't Christmas lights that were flashing, but the police behind them. I have to say at this point my grandpa could have pulled into the funeral home parking lot most people would have, to be off the highway. Not my grandpa; no. He drove about a quarter mile down the highway and what does he do? He pulls into a ditch!

If you live in a small town you know how this works, especially, during the old days. Everybody knew everybody and when the police came up to the car it was like gossiping more than getting scolding for whatever you did. This was no exception. Grandpa got out of the car, something you don't do now days and met the policeman on the street.

Jason and I watched from the seat as grandma did nothing but wondered what they did wrong. As we watched we saw grandpa in his khaki pants, plaid shirt, his cowboy hat and jacket. He talked briefly then the policeman walked grandpa back to the car. This was bad! They didn't do that in the past, unless something bad was happening.

Remember, I told you it was like catching up with old times. Well, the policeman's mother went to church with grandma and he had to pop his head in and said hi to grandma. I don't know why grandma never asked why we were pulled over. I figured she was worried she was going to be the talk of the church and left it at that.

It turned out that the tail light was out on the car and the officer told grandpa to get it fix in the morning and also gave us permission to continue looking at lights. That's what small town America use to be like. Now days, as I stated earlier grandpa would be in jail for the way we were in the car. A ticket with a hefty fine for the tail light would have been the least of his troubles.

As grandpa still in the spirit of things tried to assure grandma we were fine and could continue on with the lights. My grandma on the other hand, still embarrassed about the whole situation made it clear; fun time was over.

My grandparents never went out like that ever again. It wasn't until I was driving that we took them out to see the lights. Every year, me and Jason would load them up in one of our cars and show them around town. Until their death we took them to see Christmas lights in town.

For me and Jason that was a memory of our grandparents we would never forget. They tried something. Perhaps something they would have never tried if it hadn't been for us kids.



Books by Carla Landreth
   http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=carla+landreth

Grandma and the Red Light District

My grandmother and grandfather Montague lived for many years in this tiny little home down near the rail road tracks. Her mother lived next door for many years until her death. My Uncle Karl, who served his country in Vietnam and barely made it out, had been living with my grandparents since his arrival from the VA hospital.

Through the years my uncle had saved his money until he had enough to build a home. He built this home in a new district of town where new homes were being built and zoning was a requirement. Zoning meaning no trailer houses were permitted on any of the properties. Plus other zoning things, such as lawns had to be kept up, trash cans couldn't be left out for only so long. It was one of those, kind of neighborhoods. New and had rules as long as your arm to go with its newness. Of course those rules eventually went to the waist side as they say. Anyway once the house was built, my grandmother separated from my grandfather.

I don't know what really transpired, I could tell you a theory, but I won't. Let's just say it entailed many women. Mind you, my grandparents never divorced, just separated.

I know what you are saying if they were separated why didn't they just divorce? I always said it because of my grandma's religious background and frankly people her age weren't getting divorces like they do now.

Even though they were separated, he came to the house every Sunday for dinner as well as everyday for lunch and dinner. By night fall he would be back home away from her. Like I said, for a kid it was weird.

Anyway, many Christmases were spent in the new house on Apache Drive and my grandpa without fail always was around despite him being separated from grandma.

If I can recall the year, I was barely married when this incident occurred and nearly everyday I went to see my grandma and Uncle Karl. Now since my grandma had moved in the house with my Uncle Karl, she had to have some Christmas decorations.

She had bought these two candle stick moulds that she bought at a garage sale and placed them at the end of the sidewalk and plugged them in.

These little jewels were a treat, considering she did no lawn decorating before. Every night at dusk she would put them out, unless it rained then they stayed in the house by the door. But other wise they went out every night at the end of the sidewalk. Then about eight o'clock at night she would unplug them and bring them back into the house. The reasoning was she feared someone would steal them, which in my town could have been possible.

Anyway, she did this for many years but this particular year she wanted to bump up her decorating. When my grandma said she was going to bump up her decorating for Christmas, I figured she was going to buy more decorations to add to those nasty silk balls she had that had seen better days and that the homemade ornaments that had fallen apart would retire. No such luck.

Well, my grandma was in a festive spirit that year. She splurged a little more than usual on Christmas gifts and she did buy some more ornaments for the tree. But kept the same tree topper I made her when I was in second grade, a paper angel that had glitter on it.

One day I came by and she had the house all decorated up. The mantel was decorated with gold garland and little plastic Santa Clauses. The television stand had green garland on it. She had something that had been given to her, sitting on the top of the television that vaguely resembled a miniature tree. This year, even the bathrooms got festive as Santa Claus stood perched by the hand soap.

She was playing the radio which had some Christmas music, not much but some. She was busy sitting on the sofa working on her word puzzle. Not the cross word mind you, she did the jumble puzzle. It took her the better part of the morning to work on this little puzzle. Now in her defense it wasn't that she was dumb and took her a while to work the puzzle, but she worked off and on the puzzle, while she did her morning chores.

Anyway, I told grandma she was making the house look festive for the holiday season this year and my Uncle Karl blurted out a loud laugh. She didn't know what had gotten into him lately; he had been acting this way for sometime. She really thought he may have to go back to the VA's and see if his medications were too strong.

I didn't think much of it myself. My uncle would sometimes blurt out with laughter and the only reason was because he was thinking of something funny. I figured he was having one of his moments. My grandma on the other hand, thought if my uncle sneezed wrong there was a problem.

This particular time however she commented on how when grandpa came around, he too would laugh at certain times. She said she had checked to make sure nothing embarrassing was showing, meaning her dress caught in her underwear.

I had asked her did she ask them why they laughed and she said they didn't tell her why. They say nothing. She felt they were being pesky men and left it at that.

Well, the time had come for me and Jason to take her out to see the lights, by now grandpa had forgone the lights and my uncle was never really interested in them. But grandma was.

It so happened that night was really good, no moisture to speak of, so the roads were going to be great. My grandma quickly lugged the candle sticks one by one to the edge of the sidewalk and plugged them in. She plugged in the tree lights and marveled as it for a moment. Then my grandma got her coat, scarf and her famous black purse.

As we headed out the door she quickly noted she had to turn on the porch light. That's when my uncle and grandpa burst out laughing. I was beginning to think they both needed to go to the VA hospital.

When I walked out of the door, I was suddenly splashed with a bright red light coming from the porch light. Then I knew why my grandpa and uncle couldn't help but laugh when you mentioned Christmas much less turn on the lights.

Now for you young ones, that don't know this, there is one thing you can do with red lights at Christmas. You can put them on the lawn and your house. Nothing looks nicer than a house with nothing but red lights outlining your home. Some people change out clear accents lights that are in trees and flower beds to beautiful red, blue and green bulbs with it comes to the holiday season.

However, there is one cardinal rule we all follow, never, under any circumstance, do we put red light bulbs in our porch light. There is a reason for this. If you put a red light in the porch light you have just signaled yourself to be the local red light district and for you boys and girls who still don't get it; Grandma's house just became the local whore house.

Just the little red light in the porch light signals my grandma is open for business. Now I nearly fell over when I saw the reason why my uncle and grandpa laughed at her. And when they were laughing, I became embarrassed and grandma quickly pointed out, "See, they're laughing again. I wish I knew what was so funny."

I think Jason was about to die a thousand deaths himself when he saw the red porch light. He too was laughing. We finally told grandma why Uncle Karl and grandpa were laughing.

We kindly told her that the red light in a porch light meant the house was a lady of the night house. Well, viewing the Christmas lights in town had been abandoned. Quickly my grandma turned off the light and had the red light bulb quickly removed nearly burning her fingers in the process.

Jason told her she could do it in the morning and her response, "What if some comes in the middle of the night for an emergency and I turn that on. How embarrassing that will be. If it's a stranger and that light comes on they might get the wrong idea. I can only think what the Bunting's thinking or even the Landreth's (my in laws) across the street." Needless to say that light was going to be removed immediately.

The next day however that red light was replaced with a green light, of course grandma wanted to make sure that the green light had no ties to the ill fated community as they say. So instead of asking grandpa or one of us kids, she asked the poor young and unaware stock boy at the grocery store.

"Green light doesn't mean red light does it?" she asked him.

The young stock boy unaware of the situation looks at her confused and says. "I don' know. What do you mean, Mrs. Montague?"

Holding up the package with the green bulb grandma replied, "Green isn't stating that I am for sale sexually in my neighborhood or the town to be a matter of fact?"

Upon on The House Top. . . Who the H**l Left the Door Open!

One of my favorite times of the year was Christmas and still is. I have always loved the Christmas lights it was something that could entertain me for hours. I always loved to see what people came up with for their lawns and how sometimes just a simple strand of lights across the house could speak more than you realized.

When I was about four, my father had a Chevy Chevelle convertible. It was red and had black rag top. I remember that much, but can't remember what year the Chevelle was. I just remember he would say get in the Chevelle. You have to understand my father called all the cars by their models, no cute names like most of us do now.

It was that time of year when Christmas was just around the corner and my father decided one night we should go out and look at lights.

My mother was for the ride until she found my father taking the top down on the car. It was way too cold for us to have the top down and she made that clear, but my father made it clear that's how we were going.

My mother still upset, bundled us kids up, but not while mumbling hateful things about my father in the process. She then grabbed a quilt off the bed and her purse.

My mother helped us into the back seat then placed the quilt over us. It was bitter cold, I can remember that and even with the quilt that my mother tucked around us tightly, didn't deter this bitter cold snap. My father let out a few choice words, which caught my mother's attention.

My mother was so upset, that when she took us to the car, she had forgotten to turn off the lights in the house. She didn't forget to lock it; she just forgot to turn off all the lights. My father, furious took it upon himself to get out of the car and go back into the house and turn off the lights.

I must tell you that in the old days Christmas lights were a hazard to leave on when nobody was home, that and gas heaters. They were never to be left on unless someone was home, especially Christmas lights. It wasn't unusual as a child to hear somebody's house caught fire because of these two items; who loved to start a fire when nobody was home.

They aren't designed like they are now, cool burning and if there is a snag with one, like for example; a bulb goes out the rest stay lit. Nope in the old days the lights were not cool burning and they were only to stay on long enough to enjoy before you turned them off fearing you'd catch the tree on fire and burn the house down. If a bulb went out, they all went out. The guessing game was endless.

Now my mother didn't only forget the tree lights, but the house lights as well. So my father cursing and calling her names got out of the car and went back into the house.

Meanwhile mama still angry at him was making sure me and my kid brother, Jason was bundled up. I remember mama threatening to kick our father's butt while stating the fact, us kids were going to be sick from a death of pneumonia.

Upon my father's quick return, he had to once again, made a scene about the lights being left on. He finally calmed down long enough to start the car and begin our little excursion.

De Leon, Texas is a small town and they use to celebrate Christmas every year. Meaning most of the folks around town had lights up of some sort and if there weren't lights on the house they had their tree in the front window for the world to see. The town itself was decorated with metal Christmas trees that had been wrapped in garland and big lights that hung onto the street lamps that lined the town. Some didn't work but I guess that is why they had the garland on them to make them pretty for the holiday season.

The store fronts of DeLeon, Texas were something to see. It became a competition among the store owners to decorate their store from top to bottom with Christmas cheer. I'm sure if you didn't do some sort of decorating it would reflect your Christmas sales.

However, this was the 70's and the spirit had reached its peak as my father drove us through town. Jason and I were so excited looking at lights, but also freezing to death in the process.

My mother still upset over the fact we were driving with the top down, also bundled up freezing cold; didn't find the spirit as my father did. Who could blame her for being upset? Taking two small children out in the cold in a convertible with the top down and only coats and a quilt, possibly the only thing preventing us from taking a trip to the hospital with pneumonia, my mother was mad. I knew in the next few days, beginning with that night, Vicks salve was going to be rubbed all over our chest. That menthol smell would linger on us for days thanks to my father.

My father drove us through town at least four times. It was too much to see in one drag through town, as they say, because of all the store fronts decorated up.

Smith's Department Store was not only lit up, but his mannequins were in the latest fashion and in the Christmas spirit as well. Stores like Higginbotham's, who owned nearly a city block, had several displays, while stores such as Ronald Variety, Dabney Hardware and Montgomery Ward graced us with all sorts of Christmas spirit with their window displays.

Homes in town were just as elaborate with the Christmas cheer. Humsinger's fuchsia home was lit with matching lights, while Dr. Eisenrich’s home was lit up with traditional clear lights and wreaths and bows. Al Stranser may have had a home that looked like Tara from Gone with the Wind, but at Christmas was covered tastefully in red lights and big wreaths. Houses on Reynosa Street, one of the most popular neighborhoods at the time in De Leon, were all a glow as they say. Some had Nativity scenes, while others had Santa's. Some had them just a big tree in their big windows. This was a sight for a child to see.

During this little excursion that took two hours my father thought a soda from Dairy Treat would be a good idea. Now, yes, we had Dairy Queen and we also had a Dairy Treat. My father preferred Dairy Treat. My mother was fuming by now and wasn't enjoying the lights. Well, she wasn't in the first place but by now she was really upset.

I have to say by this time Jason and I were just about frozen like Popsicles under the quilt in layers of clothes and coats. Plus we were getting extremely tired from all of the excitement. It would have been nice though if my parents hadn't needled each other every chance they got.

Finally, after miles of lights, dozens of store fronts, hundred of Christmas trees and Vegas like homes, my father said it was time to go home. Something my mother was more than over-joyed about and frankly us kids couldn't wait to get home to warm up. We weren't looking forward to the Vick's salve, but a nice warm house was sure a welcome.

Upon arrival of our small home, our father parked the car under the little Hermosa tree. Something bad was about to occur.

My father quickly noted that he could have sworn he turned off the lights in the house. I wish I could say that it was a pleasant way he said it, like for example, "Hey kids, I wonder if Santa came by when we weren't home." Instead it was, "What the h**L. Those lights aren't supposed to be on damn it!"

My father said other things as my mother got us kids out of the car. At this point I have to say, I now know the theory behind the lights being on, but at the time I just feared for Santa's life.

As we approached the door my father squawked out more profane words. I must explain at this point why the commotion went a few degrees higher with my father. You see the door never really shut well unless you slammed it good. Apparently, Santa forgot that too.

Now I can only paraphrase what my father said and I cut out the more colorful words that were used. My father said yelling by now, "GD, what the h**L, if I see that SOB, I'm going to kick his ever loving fat a**." I told you he cursed a lot.

To add insult to injury to my father, my mother says calmly, almost mocking him, still mad we went looking at lights with the top down said, "Well, were we robbed?"

My father snapped like a twig and said, "How the h**l would I know. I haven't gone in yet, woman!"

My father went into the house and made another loud squawking sound, which caused my mother to think we had been robbed. Then my father, once again paraphrasing, "That little f****r, turned on the heater and left it on! That SOB!"

By now my mother has rushed in with us kids relieved we hadn't been robbed. However, somebody had been there. That big man in the red suit had came to our house. Santa, had came while we were out.

The tree was lit and underneath it was full of all sorts of presents. Jason and I knew we had been a good girl and boy to receive such. Of course we ended up opening up presents that night not our usual Christmas morning, another mistake Santa made.

Years later I would learn what exactly happened from my grandma. This is what happened.

Well, poor Santa (grandpa) came into a dark house he unlocked the door turned, on the lights to find the tree, unfortunately poor Santa needed to go to the little boy's room. So he turned on lights as he traveled through the house, forgetting to turn them off as he returned. He went to the kitchen for a glass of water and forgot the kitchen lights not because he found cookies sitting on the table, even though he did find those and ate them. He forgot the lights because he realized the table and chair set had to be put together. He wanted to make sure everything looked good under the tree so he turned on the lights to the tree to make sure it was okay and once again forgot to turn them off. But all the while the house was cold his arthritis was acting up so he turned on the heater. As for the door, well the dang thing hadn't been shutting right, but poor Santa (grandpa) was unaware of this. So he shut the door not thinking twice of what he had done. He got into his green Mercury, where his elf (grandma) not thinking too and said to her, "Now when Roy and Deborah get the kids in, they won't turn on the lights in the living room but in the kids room. The kids will probably be knocked out anyway. So they will never see the tree until the next morning."

We were lucky we weren't robbed.


Books by Carla Landreth
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=carla+landreth

Hello, My Name is Carla and I'm a Vegetarian

    
I'm doing laundry and have discovered some colorful size six panties. I believe they either belong to my eldest daughter, George or one of her college friends that have came and stayed for a while. In either case, they have been nicely laundered and put aside for my daughter to decide if they are hers or her friends. I usually have this same problem between my younger daughter, Marion and George when it comes to shirts and stuff they are close in size and when the older one gives the younger one a shirt I get confused. I put the under wear into a pile and go on with my merry business; laundry, cleaning and so forth. Hey, that's what mom's do; work.

This particular day my brother Jason is visiting. He always brings me the latest gossip from his work or his friends and of course he is just a hoot when he tells us one of his stories. He manages to make me laugh no matter how bad a situation is and believe me I have had some pretty low moments in my life. Today's visit however, would have me being the funny one. As soon as George comes home from school, (she commutes back and forth from college) I tell her I think I have her panties or one of her friends and that I have placed them in a pile for her to go over and sort. She quickly picks up the panties and frowns informing me that these panties are not hers or her friends, but mine! Now you're asking; how can you get your own panties confused with everybody else's? Well it's easy in my case. You see, I bought new panties the other day. I normally get the plain white ones with the extra panel in front (due to giving birth to ten pound babies I had to have that little extra support down there), but since my weight loss I thought a little color was in order and no more front panels anymore. My brother is laughing when I have realized that the panties I have threatened to burn if nobody claims them are actually mine.

Now how did I get to this place in my life where I'm buying smaller and more colorful underwear has been under fire from my family and friends and yes, acquaintances. But I have made my choice and felt today, I should explain my reason. Perhaps some of you will understand after you read this blog and stop and think of what I'm saying.

I have been asked by so many, what are you taking? You have lost a lot of weight and I want whatever it is you are taking. My polite answer is I'm not taking anything. I just found myself. Nobody believes you when you say that which is odd. Don't you think you can loose weight after finding yourself? Then I reveal that I'm vegetarian. Suddenly like a dramatic soap opera, oh that's dangerous or are you crazy you have to have meat, you need protein and iron. Boy here it comes. Some go on to say, no you aren't, I saw you eat hamburgers in the past. Yes, I did and now I don't. I wish I could say I just woke up one day and decided to become a vegetarian, but the truth in the matter is, it happened from a trip to California, where they actually eat healthy with fresh veggies, fresh fish and fresh fruit. But that wasn't the deciding factor. I do give credit however where it is due and that one person who held a mirror up in my face and made me think about myself. Yes, I became a vegetarian after meeting actor, writer, Dirk Benedict and reading his book Confessions of a Kamikaze Cowboy. I know you are rolling your eyes, thinking she's taking advice from a crazy washed up actor that does that weird macrobiotic diet. But hear me out before you judge.

After my husband died, I did what most parents do when left to pick up the pieces of a once happy home; I put all my energy into my kids. They needed me right now and I wasn't going to tank up on drugs to get through the day to do it. Even though several people commented on the fact I was walking the tight rope without a safety net in doing so. I made the choice to have a clear head to take care of my kids. I was going to pick myself up and put them first, which I did. Unfortunately I sort of lost who I was when I did that. At least that is what I thought. But after taking some time to examine my life in general, I found I have always put everybody ahead of me and yes, lost a little bit of me each time.

While I was in California I ate healthy for once. Not that I didn't before, but something about the veggie, fruit, fish diet was absolutely pleasing. I felt full at the end of the meal and breakfast was wonderful with all the fruit and whole grains presented to us. I already limited myself on any sort of caffeine drink; I could stay up for days if I drank too much so I usually stuck with water and my little alcoholic drink, hey its vacation.

Now after meeting Mr. Benedict and reading his book Confessions of a Kamikaze Cowboy in one night, and re-reading it on the way back home to Texas. I was gaining some information about myself. I quickly learned that I had to change myself and in doing so, I had to get control of my life. So where does one start with this new found information; my diet. Let's face it people the theory you are what you eat, is true. It all leads back to that so I started there. I could have chosen any diet plan as they say, Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, everything baked diet, instead I went vegetarian not because I wanted to loose weight but because I wanted a healthier life in general. The other diets are only a temporary fix to my problem. I had to really think hard, do I really want to change myself? But beginning with my diet or shall I say the inside of a machine where all transformations take place would be my beginning. Once I established how I was going to eat, I stuck to it. Now with good food comes abundance of energy. What do you do with that excess energy you never had before? Every morning I wake up and smile at myself. Yes, that is the first smile of the day; myself. It's not vanity that causes this, it's the fact I see I'm healthier, happier and finally finding myself. Once I'm dressed I say to myself, (I take note from Mr. Benedict when I say this) Chew your rice. Drink your tea. Wear clothes. And everything else will take care of itself. I began taking thirty minutes in the morning to work out and another thirty minutes to walk in the evening. While most of you thank God at the end of the day, I thank him when I do my cooling down stretches on my yoga pad in the morning, where it is quiet and I am not disturbed or caring what the world has planned for me for the day. Changing my eating and adding exercise was the best thing for me. It gave me energy to finish projects around the house, it gave me strength to let go of my grief that had burden me so much. My family and friends slowly noticed the physical changes that were beginning to show but my mental and emotional changes were being seen more as well. I still had a few things I had to do with my life. Like letting go of negative people which I soon did and surrounded myself with positive people. Of course, I would also learn some positive people were not so positive people after all and they too would become obsolete in my life. The small things are small things and big things aren't so big after all, we just trick ourselves into thinking they are. With my attitude changing, my body getting healthy, my mind clearing up from the garbage that has been pumped in there by negative people, I had one more task to do. I went back to writing, which had my kids and the rest of the world thinking I had given up on. It's all slow going, but I would soon be typing a way every day. All this from a diet you ask? Yes.

No diet pills, no meat, no sugar, and no caffeine, just pure veggies and fruit. Yes, I have learned a few things about whole grains, brown rice, green teas, miso soup, beans, oatmeal, flax, and humus. Things, I was told was awful tasting wasn't bad at all. Sure there are some foods I'm not fond of but isn't that the way it is with any food? Now, not to say I still have a weakness for the occasional drink especially on vacation. But I follow my new eating habits. I made the choice to change my life so I could be a better mother, sister, cousin, friend and human being in general. Some have not liked the new changes I have put forth and have lashed out in ways you couldn't have fathomed. But that's okay. I have had great support from the ones who have supported my choice, especially my children and understand why I made a choice.

We all have to find ourselves eventually even after we have lost ourselves slowly over time. Eventually you will have to make a choice and discover yourself. So, when I look at the new panties I bought and know I have went from a size twelve jean down to a size eight. My tee shirts are mediums instead of extra large all because I found myself. I say screw those who criticize who I am. At least I'm not having the headaches anymore, heartburn episodes, insomnia, severe monthly cramps and acne problems. I have also noticed my allergies and sinus haven't been acting up and this season I haven't had a cold not even the crude that plagued the town. As my sister in law Paula said, "You eat healthy, no wonder you haven't got sick." I use to have to take Tylenol on a regular basis for of my legs. In the past few months I haven't taken anything for it because it no longer bothers me.

I always tell people; just because this type of lifestyle is for me, doesn't mean it's for you. But for me this type of life style works. I know some of you are asking what about your children? Surely you aren't making them do this. Even though my children have supported me and yes, they do eat some of the foods I have prepared, doesn't mean I have forced the poor things into my journey. They have also, along the way, have discovered a new taste for foods they didn't know existed and in the process finding themselves as well. My son, Stanton and his sister, Marion still eat meat and sugar, but not as much, as they too have slowly changed their eating habits. My eldest, George has adapted this life style and thoroughly enjoys the new found peace she has in her life.

Now that I have explained myself it's time to let those of you who think you know how dangerous being a vegetarian or macrobiotic diet isn't. It doesn't cause, blindness, sexual problems, acne, PMS, fertility problems, growth stunts, smaller boobs, arthritis, memory loss, dry skin, tooth decay or hair loss. I do get enough protein contrary to belief. I have energy, healthy energy and I won't be crashing after a little unlike you all who have to have the sugary Dr. Pepper or that third candy bar you are poking down your mouth. I have done without caffeine drinks that give you the jitters or headache after you have drank it or gives you that same pickup as the drink and candy I mentioned above. A good vegetarian is not pale and pasty believe it or not. I know I have seen some too, that look like that. But you have to remember, those are the ones that have not truly found themselves. Until then they won't be healthy inside or out.

According to statistics most American's will be severely obese and diabetic in the near future. With high blood pressure not going down and cancer not backing down either, don't you think fast foods, meat and sugar play a major factor in all of this? If you have it in your family history, listen up time to take control. Now, I'm not saying that becoming a vegetarian is going to make me disease free, but it sure will cut down my risk. Lots of veggies and fruits are more beneficial than you realize and if you don't believe me, you need to go back to health class.

So don't be so quick to judge a vegetarian or a macrobiotic. I don't say anything when you are chewing down on the big, medium rare done, New York steak. Why should you, be the one to tell me how I am eating is wrong? You could learn a thing or two from us.

As I said earlier I had to learn to find myself in order to change my whole being. Several factors play a part to make one whole thing: whole. I didn't become a vegetarian to loose weight; I became a vegetarian to help me become who I am now. It would be nice when the doctors put you on a low cholesterol diet or sugar free diet they would explain this to you. You have to change everything not just your diet. Some do tell you this, but for the most part they don't. If loosing weight is one of the side effects, oh well that means I'm getting healthy all around.

Hello, my name is Carla and I'm a vegetarian.

    

    

Santa Claus...

You know what time of year I am talking about right? It is Christmas time and yes this post is a little late, but it's a story I have to share. Each year millions of parents battle the stores to find the gifts that our children have bestowed upon us in a list to Santa Claus. We did it as children and our parents did it and so forth. Some parents go to extreme and then others a present or two is enough. At my house birthdays are a big deal and Christmas. That is about the only time you get any presents around here. My children don't get a whole lot during the year so I am one who will splurge more at Christmas. This year was not any different.

Like many parents the night before I'm dragging out all the presents I have hid from the kids minus the ones I put under the tree. Plus I have to remember where I placed some of them because I bought them earlier in the year, wrapped them up and stored them away. I go for the sales people so don't fault me for that. As I was saying every year I do this. I won't get to bed until 1 or 2 because the stockings have to be filled as well. Then before I go to bed I throw some packaged Christmas snow or what we call pixie dust on the presents. I try to be careful with this stuff because it's hard to get up even on wooden floors I will be vacuuming that stuff up for months. Hey, I have to make the little buggers think Santa is real some how. Then by morning the kids are in my bed wanting me up. We go in, open presents and you know the rest with food and such.

This was not to be any different. It seemed like I dragged stuff out forever. With the help of my twenty year old we got things done. Ah the tree looked so beautiful. The packages were all wrapped with coordinating paper, the first time I have ever done that. Bows put on so beautiful. I made sure the presents weren't just thrown around under the tree. They looked so perfect, like something you would see in a nice department store. Went to bed thinking we had done a good job.

The next morning, Christmas morning, no kids came into my room excited in fact the little ones were quiet. I just figured they were being nice to their mom and let her sleep in peace. After brushing my teeth and still in my pajamas I went into the den where all three of my kids were sitting on the sofa. Not excited as usual which concerned me. My ten year old son looked up at me and said, "Santa didn't come." I quickly checked my tree fearing I had been robbed in the night. But I wasn't, the presents where laid out like a department store had exploded into my house. Then I turned to the older two, two innocent sisters who didn't believe in Santa. Well the middle one would have, but the older one ruined that when she was barely three. As I was saying, I turned to those sisters of his and said, "What did you tell him?" The girls quickly denied anything. My son quickly defended them and said, "They didn't tell me anything. Santa didn't come because there's no pixie dust."

You got it. Carla had it all perfect except for one thing; the famous pixie dust. Thinking fast, I asked the kids how long have they been up? My ten year old looked at me with guilt then I screamed, "Everybody back in bed! Santa doesn't come if you are up before he gets here!" My son ran to his room, the girls dragged their feet as usual finding this whole thing ridiculous but know if they say anything to the contrary I will bing them.

As soon as they get to their prospective room I get the pixie dust out and toss it as fast as I can. I myself look like I have been hit by the pixie fairy as the dust went to flying. Time is wasting here. I shout out, "Oh Santa, that's fast!" Suddenly there is a cat fight outside the back door, but everybody is caught up in the moment that my son screams out, "He's here! I just heard him!" not realizing the cats are fighting. I yell very loudly, "What are you kids waiting for! Get in here!"

They all came running in, by now the girls are having a laugh at how their mother covered in pixie dust, is making things work. Remember when I said the tree look liked a department store had exploded, well the aftermath looked as if Vikings had came in and pilfered through it leaving only remnants of colorful paper, bows stripped of their delicate look and empty boxes.

Later after the day, when all the cooking is done, when all the family has left, I am back in my pajamas after a nice hot shower my two girls would tell me that was the best Christmas ever. How many moms do you know run around for the rest of the day with Pixie dust in her hair? Then my older one would say, "God I hope nobody poops pixie dust."




Books by Carla Landreth
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=carla+landreth