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Betty’s Week

By Betty Shearer

    We still  have several pictures from the Veterans Section printed last fall. You were so gracious to lend us your pictures and we certainly want to return them to you. You may stop by the office Monday-Friday, 8:30 a.m.-5 p.m. and pick them up.
  Word came from long-time friend, Elmo Mercer of Nashville, that he has written a 550-page autobiography. Should be very interesting reading.
  Elmo and his wife, Marcia, were in our area many times in years past in conjunction with the State Baptist Association’s Town and Country Music Clinics.
  The Mercers also presented concerts in many area church throughout the years. They were in our home several times when they were guests musicians in the Camp Ground Church and later at Woodland Hills. We became close friends and I miss seeing them since they’re not traveling as much.
  The book will be $19.99 plus $4.99 for shipping cost (a total of $24.98). To order send check to W. Elmo Mercer, 301 Forrest Valley Dr., Nashville, TN 37209. Be sure to include your name and complete address.
  Mary Nell and Dayton Shelton have a black lab (may be a mix) that has come to their home. They say the dog is young, very friendly, and probably was in a home with children. It’s wearing a wide pink collar and has been cared for in an excellent manner.
  If the owner sees this, they can identify and take it home. If it’s not claimed they would like to give it to a good home, because they have cats and therefore can not keep it.
  Another lost dog is looking for a good home. This one is a white Poodle (looks like it’s full blooded) that Mary Henderson has. She says she has more dogs than she needs and cannot keep it. If you’d give it a good home call her.
  I’m going to get on my soap box. On the first warm day last week I decided to wear one of my long-sleeve cotton shirts that I got at Christmas. The material was of good quality and the workmanship was excellent. However, when I read the label I found that it had been manufactured in Indonesia.
  Each time I see a label that is not made in USA (which is most of the time) I get mad. We grow some of the best cotton in the world and our manufacturing plants were top-notch. We just didn’t want to pay for the U.S. made merchandise. We are paid wages that will allow us to pay for employees of these manufacturing plants to get decent salaries and still have the plant owners make a good profit. Somewhere along the line there is greed.
  I enjoyed wearing Lands End and L.L. Bean garments, as well as our own Big Yank jeans. Ed also wore Wranglers, Jim choose Levis, and I still wear Lee jeans.
  We need to be support products made at home, thus putting workers back on the jobs. If this were done we’d make life much easier for all of us. If folks were working they’d stay out of trouble, relieving us of the expense of so many law enforcement officers, building and staffing jails and prisons, and the feeding and upkeep of prisoners. Not to mention those put back to work would contribute to the tax base, not take from it. Makes sense to me and we should have better products—we are the best educated and trained people in the world, or should be.
  Come on, let’s buy American made when we can, even if it does cost more. If we do this enough, the companies who’ve taken their plants to other countries will see the light and return manufacturing here.
  Thursday night I got to play bridge for the first time in many weeks. Club was meeting at Jimmie’s house and she was short a player, so Bo was pressed into service to sit with Mom while I had fun.
    Food was good and the fellowship even better. It was great to see Karen Lewis, Ilene File, Eve Sprouse, Glenda Deaton, and Connie Hawkins. Then play began. First hand, I had pretty good cards—made my bid. After that it was back to typical Betty hands—two, three, maybe five points. I did win low score and I made Jimmie give me a prize.
  Friday Mom and I had a good day, with her eating pretty good, walking in the hall to her appointed target, and then getting a shower, complete with hair washing, late in the evening. I had to dry her hair before putting her to bed and she didn’t even object to this or yell that I was burning her up. Think she was sleepy and just wanted me to get it done as fast as possible.
  Did have to fight for water for her. They were going to take away her water pitcher and I asked why. They told me her water intake had been limited to 12 ounces a day. Now that’s not enough to keep you alive. I objected, probably not very nicely, and the water was left. I do remember threatening that she’d get water, no matter where I had to go for it. I’m nurse enough to know that she does not have a bad problem. Her ankles do swell  if she sits in the chair for eight to ten hours—mine do too and I know I don’t have a problem.
  Brother Rance, our Sunday sitter, had a health problem himself, so we had to make arrangements in a hurry. Jimmie could sit Sunday morning, and I cut worship service and went back for the afternoon and early evening shift. Mom and I had a great afternoon. I got there a little early and Jimmie and I took her for a walk in the hall. Her therapist, Doug, came by and says, “I’ll take her for a session if you are agreeable.” We were and he said she did good and she said she had a good time. Usually Saturday and Sunday are therapy free days.
  Then we talked all afternoon and Mom was in such good spirits, even though she really was ready to go home. I gave her instructions for getting out of the NH and each time I’d tell her what she needed to do, she’d say, “I can do that.” Hope she will—I’m also ready to go home.
  Our last visitor Sunday was Ruthie McEwen, co-worker with sister-in-law Ginny (Cathryn Virginia Kilgore, as she’s known in the Valley). Ruthie came in and exclaimed, “I know you” and she did. Ed had helped her learn a computer program years ago. She’s a daughter of Mr. McEwen who cooked at Bonanza years ago and also a sister of William McEwen, who was band director at Coffeeville (was Mel’s director) and then later at South Panola. Sent him greetings and enjoyed seeing her.

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