Sleepless Nights and Clowns

I had no intentions of writing this but since my friend Andrea thought it was so hilarious and laughed so hard when I told her what happened to my toe, I thought, oh well, the rest of the world should get a giggle out of it. I'm sure my friend, Ted will since he is the culprit that introduced me to this whole thing.

As a child I loved clowns, they made me laugh. I especially loved the ones at the circus. How they would chase each other with a bucket, which I would think was full of water and then they would throw it at one of the clowns and it would hit the audience, turning out to be confetti. I also enjoyed them at birthday parties the things they could do with balloons were absolutely phenomenon. Ah childhood memories.

I never had a problem with clowns until recently. I must say I met a very nice man who is an actor/ stuntman and now friend. His name is Ted Alderman. I was total fascinated and intrigued by his work and the more he told me about his work, the more he drew me in. I watched several movies that starred him and have thoroughly enjoyed watching him perform. Yes, some are a little on the weird side, but that's what makes him an interesting person and has made me a huge fan of his.

But there's one movie he was in "Torment" which starred a clown as a serial killer. Scary movie and probably should have turned it off before I proceeded any further with this little horror flick. Especially, when the woman saw a black trash bag that look like it had somebody trying to get out of it. Now I am one who will watch a whole movie because, I support the artist in their works. No matter how bad the movie is I will watch it through. I may not ever watch it again but I will finish the movie. Believe me I have driven my cousin crazy forcing her to watch such films. The Last Mistress was quite interesting French film, sure you had to do a lot of reading but it was worth it. Hey, these people have worked hard they deserve to be seen. But when it comes to Ted and his friends I will be the first to admit; I will certainly stand in line to watch the film no matter how bad he thinks it is or anybody else thinks. Even if it's a freaky scary movie I will watch it.

The movie as I said is about a sadistic clown going around killing people. Starring my friend, Ted Alderman, as the handsome Sheriff Trembath and the beautiful Suzi Lorraine as Lauren, who is isolated at a river cottage with her husband played by Tom Stedham. The facial expression on this clown scares the hell out of me. He looks likes like Ronald McDonald from the dead, pumped up on crack with a nose that oddly reminds me of an old man's penis. I was flashed once at a nursing home if you're wondering how I compared the nose and penis thing.

Still I watched it and because of that little flick I now have issues with clowns.

What kind of issues? Well, now if I see anything with a clown I'm in for a sleepless night. It doesn't matter if the movie is a comedy, sad, melodrama or even a circus that comes to town. If it has a clown, I'm guaranteed a night of tossing and turning. I just can't sleep. A weird clown killing people enters my mind. The fear of a deranged clown going around killing people freaks me out. Do you know how real that is? A freaky clown shouldn't be bothering me, but it does. I'm a widow woman, home most of the time by myself with the fear a clown could be lurking about. Clowns; I shudder at the thought. This brings me to my little incident which involved this new fear.

Picture this; I had spent the whole day before preparing for the annual Memorial Day party which commences at my house every year without fail. I finally got the pool cleared, plants all planted, coolers cleaned ready for ice and drinks that will fill them, all lights are hung and checked. Trash cans with bags expecting the over flow of paper good items, all making my home ready for fun.

I had bought new tiki torches this year. Oh they are so beautiful, made out of colored glass and metal. These will last longer than wicker ones which caught fire a few days earlier. Lucky for me my cousin, Becky and my daughter, George Anne, were with the water hose putting them out before the dry lawn caught fire and burned down the neighborhood. Well, while I was out buying the new tiki torches, I found these cute totem poles which you can put tea candles in and their faces light up giving you that island affect. But anybody who knows Carla knows she's not into candles outside. Please, the tiki torches, literally on fire was almost too much excitement. So to be on the safe side I bought some solar lights. Slipped them in and bam all seven of the totem poles light up the pool deck steps in the dark. Along with the flamingos that light up in bright pink color, the pool deck with clear and blue lights and the swimming pool itself is bright from the light that is showing the bottom of the pool. Yes, Carla is party ready!

The party will go without incident. The pool is busy with splashing water and laughter, the grill is getting its first real workout, music playing, setting the party mood and Carla's entertaining. By late night the guest have left including my kids who are residents at the home. Yes, they went to stay at their friends house leaving me alone with Chloe, my little miniature pincher, who is spoiled rotten by me of course and has been in many recent adventures with me.

I decide I will clean up in the morning, too partied out. Right now I will go in, take a shower to remove the latest smell of chlorine and smoke from the grill and after that I will relax in front of the television, which I always do in the evenings and write a little before I call it a night.

Now about three o'clock in the morning, Chloe is in my bedroom whining, which means one thing. She needs to go out to do her business. Since the kids aren't home, guess who has to get out of bed, take her out to do her business? You guessed it, Carla.

So I slink out of bed, Chloe ahead of me jumping as we go to the door. I'm amazed she didn't pee with all the jumping. But as soon as I let her out my imagination takes over. The automatic light, that usual comes on when she steps out didn't this time and in fact didn't come on when I stepped out. So no full moon, and with a dog that is black you can guess I've lost her. I'm trying to hear for her tags on her collar, but I realize Marion had taken it off when she gave her a bath before she left. A tag less dog; great. As I am searching for Chloe, I see these two beady eyes at the pool that looks like those eyes of that damn clown in "Torment" and I freak out. I'm calling Chloe, in a low voice I might add. Since I can't find her immediately I go to the other side of the office where there is another back door and grab my broom. It hangs by the door and pursued to attack whatever is out there with two beady eyes, all the while still calling Chloe.

Of course as Carla gets closer to the deck she realizes that's it's not a freaky clown, but one of those damn totem poles that I put the solar lights in. Of course, I see them all when I approach the steps and realize all seven of them are staring at me; freaky looking little things. To make sure this little incident doesn't happen again, I go over and turn their head facing the back of the steps. Relieved it was just my imagination I call for Chloe but she doesn't respond. Instead we have decided to play a game of hide and seek. All I can think of is she's out behind the pool deck farting around.

So here I am half naked in my night shirt, a broom in my hand, calling for a dog name Chloe. But she doesn't come to me, so I figure it's time to turn on the pool lights. That usually brings her to me when I turn on the lights. I go to turn on the switch in the house, stump my toe on the way back, by hitting the deck in the dark which gave me a bad toe nail. I get to the back door which the light decides to work then and who is sleeping at the back door waiting for me; Chloe.

Now I know some of you are laughing finding this whole thing funny. You can just see paranoid Carla in her night shirt, calling for a little dog, thinking she has a demented clown on her pool deck ready to snatch her away, but it's not funny. I haven't been frightened like that since that time I was a child and I saw that horror flick about the frogs invading the world. It took me years to not fear frogs and still not a big fan of them.

So what has Carla learned from this, besides her imagination takes over easily. The next time I fear a clown in my backyard, I'm calling Ted up out of his nice, deep, slumber sleep. I don't care if it's one, two or even three in the morning. If I can't sleep why should the man who stars in really good horror flicks get to sleep and oh yeah, the dog, will just have to piss in the house!


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

Here's to You Mrs. Robinson

We all know that song. Simon and Garfunkel made it popular with the movie 'The Graduate' and it has been the musical feature in my freaky dreams for years. But have you ever really thought about the song? It's about a woman seducing a much younger man, hiding secrets from her loved ones, all the while acting like the perfect mom in the world. We call these women now days; cougars, but in reality they are nothing more than Mrs. Robinson and frankly, I like the word Mrs. Robinson better if you ask me. Cougar makes it sound so dirty. I think however the point of this story is to let every woman out there know they have been a Mrs. Robinson at one time in their life. Perhaps you just didn't realize it but you have.

As Valentines Day approaches, I think back to the loves of my life, which weren't many, but as I think back, one in particular love affair sticks out. This was before my husband, this was way back when I was in De Leon Jr. High and I was in eighth grade. I would have to say this was probably the real true love as they say, not so much for me, but for a little boy on the bus.

I shall begin this story with the fact I had to ride a crowded bus to and from school each day. Bus number thirteen, was driven by Hopei Alexander. He had the worse bus route you could imagine. Not only was it the longest at the time, but it was also the one that housed many kids. This bus was so crowded many students had to stand in the isle of the bus due to the over crowding.

Now before I proceed, I must explain a few things about this bus. One, the smaller children sat near the front of the bus. There was a reason for this. You see the high school kids and yes, we had plenty who road the bus, they always sat in the back of the bus. There was a reason for this. The older kids sat in the back to make out, which was done on a regular basis. There was a reason they called the Hispanic John Travolta look alike by the nickname 'Speedy'. If these older kids weren't making out, then you could guarantee they had their heads sticking out the windows yelling profanity to the world. I can't tell you how many times, Hopei, with his cigar in his mouth, would yell and point at those kids in the mirror to remind them he was watching. Frankly, if you ask me the sleazy kids sat in the back of the bus. Now if you wonder did, Miss Carla ever sit in the back of the bus? The answer is no. I was too much of a lady to do such and the fact Hopei knew my parents personally was enough to keep me away from that end of the bus.

Each day the bus would gather the elementary students and bus them across town to the Jr. High where, not only did the Jr. High kids get on, but also the High School kids. Now I made sure I was quick in getting my stuff from my locker, because if you weren't on the bus fast enough you would be standing on the way home or until the bus lost some of the kids at their stops. So I always made sure I got my stuff and high tailed it to the bus.

Now once you got on the bus you would be there for a good fifteen minutes. Because as I mentioned earlier, our school was much bigger in those days which meant more students, which also meant, fifteen minutes spent waiting on the bus for the students to load up then another fifteen minutes to go through town to get home. But I always, no matter what got on the bus and found me a seat, usually with one of my younger siblings.

Well, there came a time that I didn't make it on time , in fact if I can recall, a teacher had to keep me behind to talk about a paper and all I could do was think 'great I'm standing on the bus going home'. When I finally reached the bus it was as I knew it would be standing room only.

Oh well, I just sucked it up and stood there. But suddenly I felt this little soft tap on my shoulder. I glanced down and there he was standing in a seat. A small blue eyed, blond haired boy with missing front teeth, smiling up at me as if he had found his first true love. His name was Patrick. I never learned his last name, which is a shame now, but at the time, his first name was enough. Patrick wanted me to sit with him and his sister Rebecca, who was also, blonde haired and blued eyed like her brother.

I took a seat of course, because I just didn't want to stand on that bus, but what I didn't know was that this little boy was going to want me to sit with him everyday from that day forward.

Patrick was cute and sweet and loved to talk. He would tell me about his day and how he loved recess that was his favorite time of the day. While telling me all of this, his sister rolled her eyes and would say repeatedly, "If he is bothering you tell him to shut up." He wasn't a bother, he was in first grade and obviously had his first crush and not on a teacher.

Now, every morning I got on the bus Patrick and Rebecca were not on the bus because their father went to work and he dropped them off at school. But in the afternoon, he couldn't bring them home so they rode the bus. And every afternoon, Patrick and his sister were waiting for me. I was always guaranteed a seat even if I was late because Patrick made sure I was going to sit by him no matter what.

Our relationship was friendly and since we had to sit on the bus for a good thirty minutes he would bring out his homework, which was a little reader book he had to read and insist I help him with his reading. It was no problem really. But I can hear some of you say, I wouldn't have helped him. But he was so cute and well he did save me a place on the bus every day.

Now puppy love is what I called this, harmless to the ones around you, but Patrick was getting in deep. I soon realized this when I got on the bus one day and he pulled out a honey bun from his back pack. He had brought the honey bun from home and it had sit in his back pack all day. Now at first, I thought well, he was just bringing this for a one time deal. So I opened the honey bun and we shared it. Boy was I not thinking. Every day after that, Patrick had some sort of little Debbie Snack cake for us. Sure it was smashed at times from being in his back pack all day, but like a lady we sat, read and ate. I soon learned from his sister, that he insisted his mother purchase these little cakes each week, so he and I could bond.

I see all of your faces right now, laughing at the very thought of a first grader, saving his little snack cake for an eighth grader, but it was harmless or at least I thought it was harmless. Christmas rolled around and I would be getting a Christmas gift from Patrick. Lip gloss. Cherry flavored to be exact. Well, that afternoon when I got home I called my grandma to let her know I needed a cheap present for a little boy. I didn't care what it was just something cheap. Well, she bought a little Hot Wheel for the boy. It wasn't a real Hot Wheel, just a knock off from the Dollar store, but still it was suppose to mimic it and well, he was in love with it.

Valentines Day isn't my favorite holiday. Everybody around me loves Valentines Day. I was never a fan of it, because I didn't get the flowers or the boxes of candy or anything like that. The girls in my class would always get things like that, but not me. But this year I thought I would be nice and give Patrick and Rebecca a Valentines Day card with a sucker.

Well, I got on the bus as I normally did and I took my seat next to them. I quickly handed Patrick and Rebecca their card and sucker. Patrick was smiling his teeth were finally coming in. I saw Rebecca smiling also. She nudged him as he dug into his back pack. Well, our relationship was about to hit a high note.

Patrick brought out a box of candy; it was a small box with those little hearts in it, a card and something inside the card that was hard and lumpy. I opened the card and what was in it; a necklace. It was fake gold, with two hearts and a rose holding them together. I was suddenly plastered with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Boy was I not only impressed, a little embarrassed but thought perhaps this relationship had gone too far.

Rebecca told me he had saved some of his Christmas money to buy that for me. Ah young love as they say. While most girls my age would find this disgusting, I couldn't help but think how sweet.

Well, I wore that necklace quite often however I would wear something different to school but change into the heart necklace before I got on the bus. My crush affair would come to an end soon, when Patrick one day had to tell me, with tears in his eyes that he and his family were moving away. I did have a smidgen of a broken heart. Mind you I said smidgen, in truth I thought to myself, now I would be fighting for a seat on the bus for sure.

I know this is silly, but it did break my heart the day I got on the bus and there was no Patrick. No listening to him read or talks about his day or shares a honey bun. Tender moments as they say gone. Of course as they say, I moved on rather quickly, but I always thought of my Mrs. Robinson moment with Patrick.

I still have the Valentines card he gave me that was crudely scribbled with his name and I still have the necklace, it lost its luster many years ago, meaning the fake gold finally rubbed off. But I sometimes think, I wonder, after all these years. What lucky girl got to be Patrick's girlfriend or wife? Was or is he attentive to them as he was to me? She would have been lucky to have such a boy in her life especially if she knew what he was like as a first grader Romeo.

Now ladies, the next time you state you have never been a Mrs. Robinson. Think hard before you answer. Sure you may not have been like Mrs. Robinson in the Graduate, but I think if you look hard at yourself, you will see there were moments you could be classified as one. Perhaps, it was just puppy love like Patrick or something more sinister. But I think every woman can safely say, at least one time in their life they got to be a type of Mrs. Robinson.

So, Here's to you Mrs. Robinson...



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

Feathers Anyone?

I had written this story for a snow day, but it doesn't look like we are going to get any beautiful white snow this year, but I'm posting anyway.

It is said that most people recall their first memory around the age of three. So thinking back I do recall around the age of three my very first snow. Now at the time I didn't know it was snow but as you get older you look back and say, "Ah, ha!"

When I was around three, Jason and I had gotten up on bitter cold morning. Most mornings we slept in, which I think was a relief for my mother.

I really don't remember what we ate that morning, if we ate anything, but I do remember watching a little television. There really wasn't much on in the morning. I'm pretty sure we watched PBS but couldn't be for sure. In the afternoon was a whole different story. Gilligan's Island followed up with the Banana Splits. Sometimes we watched the Monkee's, if we remembered, which we normally did and of course my mother's favorite Bewitched and Brady Bunch. Jason loved the Partridge family and the Bugaloos. If we got up early enough we could watch The Three Stooges and Penelope Pit Stop.

Anyway, back to what I was talking about. It was a bitter cold morning and we watched a little television. I remember getting dressed and Jason, who was two at the time, was having trouble getting dressed. As a big sister (only by 15 months) I helped him with the buttons on his shirt, but the truth is; I wasn't much good at it either.

My mother made sure we were dressed properly for the day and I remember telling her we wanted to go out and play. My poor mother tried to keep us in most of the morning, but wasn't having much luck and finally gave in to us kids.

Jason and I went outside to play in our yard that, by the way was unfenced. This is the early 70's and children missing; was a rarity. Not saying it didn't happen, it was just a rarity. Plus we had the neighbors around to watch us. Most of them were old and knew when we were out and sort of watched us as they say.

My mother bundled us up and sent us out, while she did things around the house. Jason and I loved going to this big Mulberry tree in the backyard. That was one of our favorite places to go. No grass grew under it, so we played in the sand with our toys. I must say toys for us, was a premium. Jason had his trucks and cars, but I had butter dishes and old worn out spoons. We could play for hours in the dirt with these few tools of pleasure, as they say.

By lunch time our grandma and grandpa Montague had came by the house with some dumplings for lunch. We normally went with them at lunch time, a treat for us kids, but today grandma had too much to do. So instead she brought us lunch and sat and ate with us talking with mama. Grandpa had already stuffed his face and was bundled up outside talking with the neighbors. I told you we had a lot of old people in the neighborhood.

I can recall hearing grandma getting onto mama for letting us kids play out in this cold and mama replying 'well you try to keep them in.' Soon grandma would be gone and Jason and I would be back out playing in the backyard under the big Mulberry tree.

We got bored and played with the family dog, Bandit. He was a Benji dog but at the time he was considered more of a mutt. He had a brother Nelson, who lived down the street with our grandma Swinney. Bandit was loads of fun and he was very protective of us kids but he also liked to run off and visit the neighborhood. Poor Bandit would be snatched up by today's standards, no leash, no collar, no shots, just a dog that slept on the front porch each day and night.

We played on the front porch for a while until something caught our attention. This little feather fell between me and Jason. Now you can imagine what we thought, where did it come from?

Another one fell to the ground we quickly went over to see it. This time it was bigger and so very dainty as we bent down to see it closer. Jason tried to pick it up but it disappeared before we could touch it.

I told Jason, I thought Mrs. Bernae, our neighbor's, chickens must be molting again. (A term you learn very early in life with chickens. For those of you who don't know, chickens lose their feathers to make room for summer feathers) However this was strange that those feathers were disappearing in front of our very own eyes. Soon, those feathers were flying around and falling to the ground and for some reason they weren't going away anymore.

We sat on the porch and watched it for a while until Jason thought it was time to go in and I had to agree. I wasn't sure what was happening but I knew it wasn't too bad but not good either.

My mother was unaware of this fact. She had been doing household chores and didn't pay one bit attention to what was going on outside.

We told her we were hungry and of course she had the television on to our favorite shows. Of course all mothers have to ask their young ones what have you been doing? Our answer was nothing, but I did tell her somebody was throwing feathers all over the place out there.

I think my mother thought I had a wild imagination then. She didn't believe me when I told her somebody is pitching feathers all over the lawn. Of course I went on about it until she finally went to the door to see what I was babbling on about.

Jason and I went over to the big window to look out while my mother stood at the door looking out.

Since the time we had went into the house, those feathers had really taken over the lawn. I was shocked at how much Mrs. Bernae's chickens were losing their feathers and wondered how they were going to stay warm for the winter.

"See, I told you somebody is pitching feathers," I told my mom, who was laughing at us. I didn't find it funny, I was really worried. If these feathers did come from those chickens they were going to be dead soon.

Those small feathers had turned into a full force storm of feathers, whirling around covering the lawn with a fresh blanket of white.

Poor Bandit sat on the porch staring as if this was nothing new. I thought Bandit should come in but my mother protested that and told me he is a dog he will live, he had enough fur on him.

My mother finally explained to me and Jason what was going on. She told us it was snowing and when the weather got just right, that's when it snows. It wasn't Mrs. Bernae's chickens losing their feathers nor was Bandit, who I kept trying to let into the house, would be swallowed up by the snow.

She tried her best to explain what snow was and I think any child at that age fears it to a point, yet wants to know more. My fears were calmed and I think Jason's was too, but Jason had something to say about this whole thing.

"Well, I don't care what it is, but if daddy thinks, I'm going out there to clean that up, he's got another thing coming!"


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

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?"