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Betty’s Week

    I spent most of the weekend in Panola County. Went over after work on Thursday to play Bridge. Jimmie was hosting and the gathering was short, so we both played.     

    Some of the group were traveling, others were attending work related meetings, and other functions. I’ve decided that I am not supposed to win at bridge. Playing 15 hands with three different partners I finally managed to amass seven points in one hand—others were from one to five. I dealt many of these hands, so you see I’m not even smart enough to cheat.

    Had a great time, food was good (Jimmie cooked it all) and there is always lively conversation in this group. Educational opportunities also abound, with teachers, bankers, nurses and other health related personnel, a Wal-Mart exect, a lawyer, a self-employed entrepeneur, a Corps employee, a realtor, and a homemaker. A very diverse and brilliant group, and I know you’re wondering what I’m doing there. Well guess I’m there to be the old lady—they’d lost all of these.

    Amy Stone Florence, whose daughters, Kate and Eve, are now club members, was relating her early days at bridge. When quite young she was invited to play with the senior club in Batesville, who played strickly by the rules and were serious about it.     

    Amy says she was terrified, but held her own. When she got home she says she asked her Mom why she never played with these ladies. Mom answer was, “I’m not brave enough.” I always enjoy Amy’s stories about her mom and her dad, the late Dr. John Stone, whom Ed called “Big John” (not to his face). Now Ed referring to someone as “Big” meant they were of tremendous statue, a great person, or both—to Ed, Dr. Stone was both.

    They knew each other in Methodist circles and he was also Ed’s dentist. Amy’s daughter, Eve, kept coming to her Mom for advice— I call on Jimmie—we’er both still learning. At the conclusion of play Amy asked  Eve how here bidding went and Eve says, “I’m not going to ask you for advice anymore, I’m going to ask Jimmie. Jimmie. I’ve gone set each time I’ve gotten help from you.” Well Jimmie was on Thursday night, she had me bidding some outrageous hands, and they were the only ones I won.


  Went back to Dr. Perry for a check-up on the bone graft Friday morning. He says everything is as good as can be, gave permission to start flossing and brushing again, and said I could eat anything I wanted.

  Out of his office at about ten o’clock I had a great urge to go eat some cornbread, nuts and other hard foods, but curbed the urges in lieu of a shopping spree in one of our favorite antique malls—The Depot. It’s always good to visit with owners, Ben and Sandra Anthouny Haynie.         Sandra was not there Friday, but we enjoyed a couple of hours with Ben. We found some really cute and useful items. Bought so much that Ben asked, “Are you going to start a rival shop in the Valley?” We assured him that we were collectors, not sellers.

  From the Depot we went to The Creek for fried green tomatoes. We really don’t care what else is on the menu. On Friday I had meatloaf, cabbage, macaroni and cheese, and of course cornbread and tomatoes.

    Then it was back to J. C. Penney’s to see what was on sale and what is new for fall. Leaving there we decided it was time to head for home, as football traffic was definitely picking up.       Friday night Jimmie and I attended visitation for Classmate Maurice Mitchell of Crowder in Dickens Funeral Home at Batesville. He had been killed in a head-on collision on Highway 6, west of Batesville the week before.

    We visited with the Mitchell family, classmates and other friends and several of our relatives. It was also good to see both pastors who were to officiate the servcie, Rev. Truman and Mrs. Scarbrough and Rev. Larry and Betty Van Winkle Kilgore. Bro. Scarbrough, a former pastor of the Crowder Baptist Church, is now our Yalobusha Baptist Association Director of Missions and Larry and Betty are Yalobusha County natives and Larry is the present pastor of the Crowder Church.

    After we left the funeral home we met Bill at the Crackerbarrel. At the conclusion of the meal, a little boy came over to our table. I was seated with my back to him and Bill says I though I recognized him. It was Hunter Moore, who was with parents, Chad and Kellie Perkins Moore. It’s always great to get a hug from Hunter.

  Maurice’s funeral was Saturday afternoon in the Crowder Baptist Church. Sitting there I realized that the last time I’d been in that church was for Jim’s and Melanie’s wedding over 21 years ago. I’ve been in the fellowhsip hall since then, but not the sanctuary.

  Got to visit with even more classmates and friends—some I’d not seen in probably 50 years. Funerals are bittersweet events.

  After the funeral I went to Mom’s to visit. She was not feeling well, so I decided to spend the night there. Bother Brother Rance and Ginny, who live in Oxford, came over late in the afternoon to eat supper in Batesville, reporting that they left town because the report was there were sixty thousand plus in for the game between Ole Miss and Bama. He and Ginny took Carolyn and Bo out for supper and invited me to go along. I declined, opting to stay home with mom.

    Mom and I watched Lawrence Welk and the Gathiers—Mom enjoys the music, as do I. After she went to bed, I found TV Land and some oldies, but goodies. Stayed up way to late for my early wake up call on Sunday morning. Had to get mom up and fed, then it was off to church. That early morning sun right now is tough traveling east across the Pope/Water Valley Road.        After church it was back for lunch—sun wasn’t quite as bad. Mom was okay Sunday, so after an afternoon of visiting, I came on home for evening worship. I’m sure it was just her sinuses affecting her inner ear—she was dizzy.


  It looked like rain most of Monday afternoon, and sure enough it finally arrived Monday night. We certainly did need it. With the rain came lights out in the Valley—not connected, since we really never got any back weather. Al Davis called and invited me to go eat with them, which I couldn’t do. After they got home Betty called to see if I was in the dark. At that time I was not. We talked for awhile and then finally my lights went out. They came back on and were on for several minutes, when Betty called again. They still did not have lights. However, about the time I picked up the phone to answer her second call, my lights went out again. With the first outage I’d found a flashlight and candles. After the lights came on I still left several candles lit and sure enough I needed them again. Left them burning until bedtime and then took a flashlight to bed with me.

  That total blackness brought back memories of the ice storm—last time I could remember total darkness. Temperature was a lot better last night and the darkness didn’t last nearly as long. Thought that crossed my mind was, “Without Ed I’d probably freeze and starve if we have another ice storm.”

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