Saturday, May 30, 2015

Red Roses written by Nedra Littlefield Culp


(This is another one of my mother's fictional short stories, written in the late 1940's.
She wrote a lot of stories dealing with WWII and its effect on relationships.  I am posting this one in connection with Memorial Day, in remembrance of my parents' love story.  This is a picture of her with red roses from my father.  She told him in a letter that red roses were her favorite flowers, and all through my life, I remember him getting her red roses.)

RED ROSES
by
Nedra Littlefield Culp


This is our wedding anniversary and tonight I want to write you to try and tell you of my love for you, my love that is and always will be deep and everlasting.  We have been married for five years, August 5, 1942 to August 5, 1947.

I well remember the night I met you at the station when you came home on your first leave from the Army.  You were cocky and handsome as you stepped off the train.  I watched you proudly, happy that it was I who was waiting for you, I who was engaged to you and who was desperately in love with you.  Then you saw me, and soon I was in your arms, and you kissed me long and hard.

“Let me look at you, Darling,” you said.  “Oh, Honey, you’re even sweeter than I dreamed.”

We stood there holding each other until people began to stare.  We were so deliriously happy that night.

“Let’s get married right away, tomorrow, maybe.”

We were in my apartment and you were holding me close, telling me all of the things I had been longing to hear those many long month.

“Tomorrow, Darling, but you know I’d have to have time to get ready.  A girl just can’t get married on a moment’s notice.”

“She can if she wants to like I want to.”

It took only a few kisses to convince me that there was no need for waiting, and the next day we borrowed your brother’s car and drove to Nevada.  I had always pictured myself floating down the aisle in a misty white gown and a trailing veil, with you in tails, but here we were, a couple of scared kids in front of the Justice of the Peace.  You were in khaki, while I had on a short blue dress and a little white hat.  I carried red roses.  Red roses, which have been the symbol of our love since that day you gave me that single rose.

We had as our witnesses the wife of the Justice of the Peace and his son.  It was soon over and we were back in our car.  You looked at me with that funny little crooked smile of yours.

“You don’t look any different now that you’re Mrs. Ted Russell.  How do you feel?”

“I don’t know yet.  It was over so fast it seems it never happened.”

We found a motel with a Vacancy sign and got a room.  We ate in the restaurant nearby and later danced to the jukebox.  We were deliriously happy that night.

“Are you sorry you couldn’t have a big wedding?” you asked me after we had gone to our room.

“Darling, I was a fool to think that it could matter.  The only thing in this world that has any importance is just you and I and our being together for now and always.”

Then followed 7 days of joy and ecstasy.  We became acquainted with each other all over again.  The days passed in a dream, a dream that had to end too soon. 

You told me you would send for me as soon as you were transferred to your new station.  It was almost unbearable to say goodbye.  I felt I had just found you only to lose you again, but you comforted me, telling me it would only be for a short time.  I remember how you looked as you sat on the edge of the bed.  Your eyes were filled with sleep, your hair tousled and falling over one eye.  I told you you were the most handsome man in the world, and you said I was the most beautiful girl.  Then you told me I must get right out of bed and hurry, as it would soon be train time.

We stood on the platform at the station.  How many times did you kiss me goodbye?  I remember you saying that if we were ever in need of a place to kiss publicly we should remember to go to the railroad station.  You tried to tell funny little jokes and make me laugh and I tried to be brave for you.  I stood by the window where you sat and we talked before the train started to go.  So many things to say and so little time.  Then the train was going down the tracks and I was waving frantically.  I didn’t cry a tear until then.

You wrote me every day and sometimes called me.  I was lost without you.  My heart was a hard lump in my breast and each night I looked at your picture and cried a little.  At that time 2 weeks separation seemed like 2 years.  Then you called me from Louisiana.  Your voice was strong and vibrant across the great distance of space.  You told me I was to come post haste to Meedville, Louisiana.

The next day I quit my job and was on a plane bound for Meedville by 7:00 that night.  I called you at the camp.  You couldn’t come in until the next evening which was Saturday.  In my innocence of Army ways, I had pictured us together every night, but I was soon to be disillusioned.  Your camp was 35 miles from Meedville and you could come in on weekends, that is, if passes were being issued.  I found a room in a hotel and soon we were together again.  So much time to make up; 2 weeks since we had seen one another.  We were so happy that first night.  We talked far into the night.

I found myself a job.  We soon found that a Private’s pay doesn’t stretch far.  I found a room in a cheap rooming house and that became our heaven, our nest of love and joy.  Weekends were wonderful.  I’d rush home from work, get freshened up for you and soon you’d be there.  After awhile we would go out and get something to eat, as we had no cooking privileges in our room.  I used to tell you of the wonderful meals I would cook for you when we had a place of our own.  You said all that could wait, just so we had each other now.  We would come back to our room and listen to the radio and drink soft drinks.  We didn’t have any money to spend on entertainment, but we had all the entertainment we wanted to be together for two whole evenings a week.  You taught me to play cards; to play poker.  Those were wonderful evenings together and our little room seemed like paradise on earth.

We had been married 3 months when your outfit went on maneuvers.  You were gone 6 weeks.  During that time I found out that we were to have a baby.  I was happy, very happy, but worried and scared.  Then you were back and called me to tell me that you were on your way into town.  I was delirious. I rushed down the stairs to hurry and get ready for you.  I guess I rushed too fast.  I caught my foot on a rough spot on the stair, and hurtled downward.  There was a terrible blinding flash of pain and then I remembered nothing until I heard your dear voice.  You were standing beside me looking scared and helpless.  I was in a hospital.

“Our baby,” I asked, “is it all right?”

“No Darling.  There won’t be any baby.”

It didn’t seem possible.  I had just found out about it.  I broke down completely then and they told you you must leave. 

You were so good to me then, so sweet and tender and loving.  You got a 3-day pass and spent every moment possible by my side.  We were sad about the baby, but knew there was lots of time for others.

You were transferred again, this time to Texas.  I followed you as soon as possible and we had a similar room there.  We didn’t mind.  We could have found happiness anywhere.  You were a perfect love and a perfect husband.  Sometimes I used to wonder if I were dreaming, if it could be possible for any two people to be so completely happy.  Then I remember the one thing we did not talk about; the fact that soon you would be going overseas.

We would lie in bed at night and dream about our future.  We were going to have a large family, possibly 3 boys and 3 girls.  You thought that we should wait until after the war to have them now, though.  We decided that you should go on with your interrupted education.  You had only two years before you would have your degree in engineering.  I said I would work part time to help out.  Then we planned our little home, a small white cottage with a green roof and green shutters.  We were both tired of city dwelling and wanted to have an acre or two out in the country where we could have flowers and vegetables and maybe some berries.  Those were lovely dreams we had.

Before long we knew that the time would soon be there.  The invasion was imminent in Europe and there were many rumors around camp.  We knew that it couldn’t be too long and so we tried desperately to make every moment count, to live each moment together to the full, to drink in the joy of being together before you went away.

It was Saturday night and we had been married 6 months.  I dressed especially for you that night.  I wore the green dress you loved so well, the one which you said, quite plainly, showed off my shape.  I fixed my hair the way you liked it best and waited for you to come.  I could tell by your face when you came that something was wrong, but you denied it.  You brought me red roses.  I held them to my breast, buried my face in them and drank in their beauty.  You said we would go to Dalli’s for supper to celebrate.  Dalli’s was the most exclusive restaurant in town.

“Did you enjoy your food, Sweetheart?” you asked me.

“It was marvelous.  You are a very thoughtful and considerate husband.”

“I should be considerate of anyone so lovely as you.  Six months darling, it doesn’t seem like we’ve been married that long does it?  But I suppose time always goes fast when you’re happy.  I am so happy with you, my darling.  So very, very happy.”

We were very gay that night.  We danced until 2:00 in the morning and then walked the long way home.  We stopped at Joe’s Place and had hamburgers.  It was just like when we were in school together and had just enough money left for a hamburger after a show.

We were in bed and you held me tight, your hands caressing me.

“Darling, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Darling, don’t you suppose that I know you by now?  Don’t you know that I know what’s been troubling you tonight?  You got your orders didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I didn’t want you to know tonight, not on our wedding anniversary.  We’ll have tomorrow together and then that will be all.”

“What do you mean that will be all?  This is only a brief interlude in our lives.  We have years ahead of us.  Darling, we’ll see the day when we’re sitting on the porch of our little white house with the green roof and green shutters and holding hands and up will walk a little girl or boy and it will be our grandchild.  Don’t you know that?”  I was trying to console you.  Trying to pretend that I was brave about it.

“Jean, I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but I feel that I can’t leave you, that if I do we’ll be apart forever.  Oh, forgive me for saying that, I don’t know what I’m saying.  I’m so upset.  Now don’t cry, Darling, please don’t cry.”  You tried to comfort me.  You kissed me and caressed me and told me of your love and how you would miss me so, but the time would pass swiftly and soon we would be together again.  I soon ceased crying and went to sleep in your arms.

We went to Church the next day and prayed together for your safety and speedy return.  Then we walked in the Park and talked.  The wind was cold and bitter that day but we didn’t mind.  We sat on a park bench and watched the pigeons.  We were alone in the Universe.  A boy and a girl who were terribly in love and who were trying to live those last few hours to the full.

Goodbye was heart-rending.  You looked at me long and hard and there were tears in your eyes.  Then we clung together for that one last time.  When you were gone all of the tears that had been building up in me tore loose like water over a dam.

I returned home to California and was soon writing you at an APO number.  V-mail letters.  At first I heard nothing from you.  I tried not to worry and then one day I got dozens of letters, one for almost every day you had been away.  I sorted them according to dates and read them hungrily.  You were lonesome, you missed me, you loved me, you played poked with the fellows, you missed me.  You got seasick, terribly seasick, you missed me terribly, you loved me.  What beautiful letters they were.  I treasured each of them individually.

Could an existence on letters be called complete?  I think not, but how fortunate we were able to keep in contact that way.  You sent me linens from Ireland.  You wrote me fascinating letters about Ireland, Scotland and England told me of the interesting people you met.  You always made friends readily wherever you went. 

June 6, 1944 and the invasion of Normandy.  Were you in it?  I and millions of mothers, wives and sweethearts waited and wondered.  The newspapers and radio told of the fighting and my heart was sick and sore.  Then one day I returned home from work and set about preparing something to eat.  There had been nothing in the mailbox from you and I was filled with melancholia.  The doorbell rang.  It was Western Union.  My heart was filled with terror.

The War Department regrets to inform you……..

Wounded in action.  Oh, thank God, thank God!  Wounded and not killed, but how seriously?  How was I to know?  I had no one to turn to, no one to comfort me.  I prayed long and hard that night and God did hear my prayer for soon I had a letter from you, written in a strange hand, but your words, your sentiments.  I cried when I read it.  I cried until the page was blurred and the words almost indistinguishable.  You had been hit by a mortar shell, but it was not a serious injury.  It had not received attention in time and had become quite badly infected but was progressing rapidly.  You were in a hospital in England and a nurse was writing this letter.  It was your right arm that was hit.

I received many letters in the handwriting of that nurse, and then your own dear handwriting again, shaky, but all your own.  You recovered soon and were sent back to combat.

Those were anxious days, days of waiting while the troops pushed steadily ahead to Berlin.  Oh, there were setbacks, of course, but at long last it was over and the news was flashed around the world that the Germans were beaten, crushed completely.  Now you could be home.  It couldn’t be much longer now.  Your letters were regular now and promised of your early return.  It was spring, a new and glorious spring which foretold a new life for us when we would be together always, without war and continents between us.

Then your letters changed.  I didn’t know it then, but in looking them over now I can readily see it.  I was stunned when you said that you had volunteered to stay over for the army of occupation.  I couldn’t believe that it could be so.  You gave as your reason that you thought there was a job to be done and that there was no purpose in winning the war if our nation could not secure the peace.  All very noble of you, but I didn’t feel noble, I was a woman who had been without her man for 3 years and I wanted you with me.  I read your letter over and over trying to read between the lines, to discern your motive for this.  It was impossible for me to understand.

You still wrote me regularly.  My heart was heavy but my eyes were dry.  I had cried so much it seemed I could never cry again.  You sent me perfume from Paris where you spent a leave.  You sent me souvenir pictures from Berlin.  You told me of the old castle where you were quartered.  You said you were seeing a lot of the country and getting a liberal education in the German way of life.

Our third wedding anniversary came and the florist delivered red roses.  Our fourth anniversary came and more red roses.  I knew that something was wrong by this time.  Your letters were noticeably changed by now, but I kept hoping, always hoping.

And now our fifth wedding anniversary.  I didn’t receive the red roses, but I did receive your letter.  Yes, my darling, I can’t believe that you planned it this way, but it came today, August 5, 1947.

She laid down her pen.  She was a lovely girl of about 25 years of age and she sat before a desk in a small apartment.  She was dressed in a blue negligee and looked very lovely with her hair falling softly about her shoulders.  She read what she had written, gave a short laugh and folded it together and slowly tore it into miniature pieces and dropped them one by one into a wastebasket.  Then she picked up a letter that lay on the desk and read it through again.

“Jean Dear, I know I should have done this long ago, but I was a coward.  How can I say what I have to say without hurting you?  If I only could know that you have changed too, it would not be so difficult.  I’ll come right to the point. I’ve fallen in love with a girl in Berlin.  I want to marry her and I want you to divorce me.  I hope this isn’t going to hurt too much, but we were apart for so long and she was here close by.  But I am not going to make excuses, I feel too much like a heel anyway, and I do love her very much.  I hope you will be willing to divorce me, and I know how fair about everything you have always been.  Please let me hear from you soon.  Forgive me.  May God bless you. Ted.”

She took this letter and slowly tore it into bits where it fell, slowly into the wastebasket where the other letter lay.

The End.




Thursday, May 28, 2015

Chive Blossom Vinegar


Finally, with the spring blossoms everywhere, 
I didn't miss catching the blooms of my chives,
to make vinegar with!  Yes!!!

I have wanted to make these for several years,
seeing Lynn's at Happier Than a Pig in Mud
but the blooms were always spent by the time
I got around to it.  




This year I caught them in time!


Of course, I was attracted by the beautiful
color of the vinegar that is provided by the blooms,
and the vinegar they make is just gorgeous.

It took all of my blossoms to create one jar,
so you know that this is going to be precious.




This recipe can't be much simpler.  Just cut your blossoms,
fill a bowl with water and rinse them in the water
to remove any dirt or little hitchhiking bugs.  Then
let them drain a minute and pat dry.  Fill your container with blossoms
and cover with white vinegar.  


Now wait a few days for the onion flavor to 
permeate the vinegar.  Your vinegar starts to
take on the purple color almost immediately.

Lynn felt like the vinegar was the perfect flavor
at eight days.  Then drain the vinegar, removing
the blossoms.  Use this vinegar in salads or salsas
where you want a bright onion flavor.

Susan recommends that if you are using a metal
lid to place a piece of wax paper or plastic
wrap between the lid and the vinegar so the metal
doesn't corrode.

I will be posting with

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Cabo Poolside Table


What a treat to have the sun and the ocean
all to ourselves for a week!

Usually we are entertaining and although we 
love that too, it is a delight to be able to do
practically nothing and recharge our batteries.


I could just float like this jelly fish for hours,
enjoying the water and the sun.


Hubby really wanted me to do this table with
a view off the edge of the infinity pool
looking down at the sand, surf and rocks.


Shell shape dishes are always perfect for a pool 
or ocean table.  I love how the morning sun is
shining through these glass shell bowls.


Don't you just love the magical look of
starfish?



Real or pewter, they are so beautiful and elegant.
Isn't Mother Nature just so creative and fantastic? 

Clear wine goblets let you see right through to the ocean.


I can almost hear the ocean waves breaking in the morning sun.


It is the perfect backdrop for life.





All on a rustic small table for two right at the edge
of the cliff.


Wish this could go on forever!  

I will be posting this with

Sources
Shell plates - Home Goods
Jelly fish paperweight - Home Goods
Silver and white napkins - Home Goods
Flatware and glassware - Cabo
Napkin Rings - Bloomingdales
Shells - Wal Mart

Friday, May 22, 2015

Don't Get Burned - Vitamin D Cures The Burn

This may be the only life-altering blog I write,
so don't miss this one, or you're going to get burned!
Well, let's admit it, you've already been burned
multiple times in your life, but I have the cure!


Welcome to official summer with Memorial Day!
Along with summer comes sunburns - boating,
pools, picnics, walks, you name it and those sunburns
can burn all night long and into the next day.
But the sun isn't the only thing that burns.
How many ways can you get burned,
let me count the ways:
Curling irons
BBQs
Pots and pans
Ovens
Matches
Stoves
Glue guns - ouch! ....

You know, you've had it all, right?

Let me take you back to my college days
(and since I am going to my 40th high school
reunion this year, that was a few years ago.)


College was done for the year and we were going
to take a road trip to California before we returned
to Wisconsin.  We were heading to the beach!  For
a girl who grew up in Wisconsin with sandy beaches
at all of our lakes, but had never been to the coast,
this was quite a thrill.  We were going to stay with
our friend Paul, at his parent's house.  

Of course, snow white college students mixed with
bronzing California sun can end up being a disaster
but each day after the beach, Paul had us slather on
liquid Vitamin D.  His grandfather had worked at a
dairy and someone had been severely burned there.
While waiting for help, one of the workers had poured
liquid Vitamin D on the burn and by the time help
had arrived, the burn no longer hurt.  Seems too good
to be true, right?

Well, we did it and within 30 minutes it took away
the burn.  Of course, we were dumb college kids,
and even though we were snow white, we were
staying at the beach all day.  Then one day we
drove down to San Diego and forgot to bring
the Vitamin D.  By the time we applied it that
night, it didn't have any effect, so we realized it
had to be applied soon after coming inside.


Fast forward a little - when I had no access to Vitamin D
but sure wished I had as I had sleepless nights because
of too much sun.

My brain finally wondered if there was enough Vitamin D
in milk (that's why the dairy had it in the first place) and
I decided to try slathering milk on a sunburn as soon 
as I came in from the sun.  Amazingly enough it took the
burn away in 15-30 minutes, but I smelled like sour milk.
Well, just a little good smelling lotion applied over the
milk application, after the milk had dried and the smelly
cow was taken care of.

This was a miracle and I was going to share it with everyone,
especially as we spend a lot of time in the sun at Lake Powell
or Cabo.


Many scoffed, but those who tried it became believers.

Too many waited until night time when they were in severe
pain to give it a try, and as I had told them, it had to be as
soon as they came in, for some reason, and they had to suffer
the consequences of not listening to me.

(Here she is when she was young.  Now she is grown and married.)

Fast forward, once again, to my fourth child who was about 5,
and who crawled up on the counter and placed her
hand on a sealed disc burner which was still hot
and it removed the entire skin of her palm.  

We immediately plunged her hand in milk and kept
adding ice cubes and fresh milk for several hours.  She
slept peacefully that night and we forgot about the burn
the next day because she wasn't in any pain.

Two days later, we were at a picnic and I showed it
to a Dr. there, and her hand was beautifully healed, no
redness.

Yes, there is enough Vitamin D in milk, and I have tried
it all from skim to whole and even baby formula and 
found relief.  A little milk on a paper towel held on
a blistered finger for half an hour and you won't suffer
all night with the burn. (Somewhere in those years I 
read in a women's magazine about a university study
using milk for burns and they thought it was the 
proteins in the milk and they stated it had to be
whole milk.  Wish I had saved that article and written
to them!)

But the great news is that you can now buy Vitamin D
in capsules, so you don't have to risk the smell of sour
milk.  Just pierce a capsule, squeeze it into your palm
and apply it.  If you are applying it to a large area,
mix it in your palm with some lotion!  I now carry
Vitamin D. capsules in my purse.

Let me tell you about my worst burn lately and how I
took away the burn.


This is a picture of this awful burn.  We had driven to our
cabin which is 20 minutes away and reaching into my husband's
car, an Audi Q7, to take out some food, my leg touched the
exposed tail pipe - just one more reason to not like his Audi Q7!
But that is another story!

Instantly I had a circle of blistered skin and I can't remember such
pain.  Screaming and holding my knee I searched my mind for
a way to get relief.  I had hubby run into the cabin, knowing 
full well that we had no milk there, but hoping someone may have
left some, and he came out with some vanilla ice cream. 
 Hey, I didn't have any Vitamin D
capsules since I had left my purse at home,
 and I was desperate to try anything.  With a paper towel, I
applied some vanilla ice cream and held it there for about 15 minutes.
Within half an hour I was active again, and had totally forgotten
the pain.

When I told several of these experiences to my pharmacist
friend, she said I needed to share this information with
burn units.  She was interested in the sunburn, but fascinated
with the other burns.  I never have done that, but I thought
I would share it with you for summer.  

It really is miraculous, so don't get burned this summer
without having Vitamin D on hand in some form or other.

This isn't like Aloe Vera or ice, this actually takes the heat out
in just minutes.  Give it a try as I know you are going to get
burned in one way or another soon.  But don't put it off - do
it the minute you come in from the sun.  I don't know why,
but it doesn't work if you wait until the evening when you
really start hurting.

(I just got burned last week doing crafts with a hot glue
gun!  A little milk on a paper towel and despite it instantly
blistering, within an hour the pain was gone.)

I am going to share this secret with
Metamorphosis Monday



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