Columns

I hope everyone’s Christmas was blessed and fine and good. Mine was and I’m so thankful for that! Mama’s cornbread dressing was … perfect – I’ve really got it down now. Just to be sure we will always be able to enjoy it and evoke her love I made copies of an old column of mine on the creation of the actual recipe like my Mother made and notes on changes I’ve made over the years to perfect it. I gave all the women in my family that as a gift and I can share with you that there were a few tears shed. I tried to give “one-of-a-kind” or personalized gifts to everyone so that this Christmas would be memorable. I pray that I succeeded.

There are several very important historical events that took place during the Christmas Season. Of course the birth of Jesus, our Lord and Savior, was the most important and the “Reason for the Season”. But on December 21, 1620, the first landing party of Pilgrims came ashore in Massachusetts at the place they named Plymouth. There they founded the second successful English settlement in America. The first settlement was at Jamestown, Virginia, up the James River. Tradition says that as they came ashore the Pilgrims set foot on a large granite boulder that they named Plymouth Rock. That rock became a famous symbol of the revolution and of our faith. Nearly a century later the second president of the United States, John Adams, urged the early American Colonies to not forget the trials the early settlers faced and the reason they came to America.

Everybody recalls some of their favorite Christmas gifts “from Santa.”

I remember the trampoline that “Santa” hid in the woods before Christmas, and how my sister Ann and I inadvertently discovered it during a hike.

I recall the three Cabbage Patch Dolls that I got during Christmases in the 1980s. Their adoption papers had such hideous names that I renamed them “Haley, Matthew and Jonathan”.

There’s the red turtleneck with the little white specks that I got from The Gap as a teenager. That’s one of many that my sister Ashley told me about before Christmas.

Ashley loved telling people what their Christmas gifts were, but she wouldn’t directly tell you. For example, that Christmas, Ashley asked me, “Allison, did you see that red turtleneck with the white specks on it, near the front of The Gap yesterday at the mall?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Well, I sure do hope you like it,” says Ashley.

Few people have lived through the Great Depression but everyone has read and heard about it. This writer not only lived throughout the Depression but experienced some of its hardships. If you will bear with me some researched details will be presented to set the stage.

On Friday October 24, 1929 the U.S. stock market crashed which started the 12 year economic disaster known as the Great Depression. On that “Black Thursday” everyone knew the sudden massive sell off of stocks was bad but no one knew just how calamitous the results would be. Given the last two months prior to Oct. 24, 1929 it was thought things were going along as fine as they always had.

Minimize Hay Feeding Losses

As we begin the transition from Fall to Winter, most local cattle producers are beginning the hay feeding season. Hay losses during feeding, if not managed properly, can be extremely high. In some instances, these losses can reach up to 60% if no efforts to reduce loss are made. On average, producers can expect feeding losses of 3 to 6% when attempts are made to reduce feeding losses.

With a little over a week to go until Christmas, it’s the most exciting time of the year, and yet it also becomes evident that the most wonderful time of the year will be over soon.

We build up to this time all year, and then we don’t want it to end.

Watching “Home Alone” for the one hundred and eightieth time will be missed.

The happy habit of waking up and turning on the Christmas tree lights will be hard to say goodbye to.

The fleece candy cane lounge pants will be retired until next year.

There’ll be no more lighting of the balsam candle inside the ceramic gingerbread house on the mantle.

But, it’s not over yet.

Ten more days of “You serious, Clark?” and “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal.”

The Christmas tree lights are still a twinkly bright-white.

The balsam candle is lit inside the gingerbread house, making the little windows light up. There are still Oreo Balls to be made and devoured.

As you know, my friend Julie and her husband and their two children traveled to his mother’s house for Christmas. His mother lived in a small town-about as big as Mansfield. Upon their evening arrival Julie realized their one year old daughter had an earache. She recognized the familiar tugging of the ear and the fussiness. She told her husband they needed to go to the emergency room. Her husband disagreed and went to Walmart to buy some children’s Tylenol. He gave the baby the proper dosage and she promptly threw it all back up on his new pants. After changing clothes, Julie’s husband agreed they should probably go to the emergency room.

DeSoto Parish in the mid 1800’s was a port parish both from the west boundary by the Sabine River to the east by Bayou Pierre. Both were important to the parish and Mansfield benefited from each – probably more from Bayou Pierre. The steamboats as they approached the landing began blowing their whistles a couple of miles before their landing. The boat’s lonesome whistles blew out through the hills and hollows announcing their arrival. People in the surrounding areas would come to the port to see the boats and the people arriving and the merchandize being unloaded. The merchants would be there waiting for all types of goods: furniture, coffins, saddles; small items such as copper pots, iron skillets; cooking supplies like sugar, flour, and spices. The boats brought letters from loved ones back on the east coast also newspapers from New York and London. The date on these wasn‘t that important because all news was new news to the frontier.

History has been made by the citizens of yesteryear. It is the feeling of this writer that these people should be remembered and appreciated. The main character of this article is such a person and his name is Henry Adams who claimed DeSoto Parish as his home although he was born in Newton, Georgia of slave parents. They were sold to a DeSoto planter in 1850 when Henry was seven years old. As slaves were sold they usually took on the name of the new owners just as women usually take on the last name of the man they are marrying.

Henry grew to manhood on this plantation and was treated well by the owners. His aptitude for learning was evident and he was taught to read and write. In addition, he learned how to get along with both whites and blacks. He married a young lady named Malinda and they had four children – Lucy, Rena, Josephine and Henry, Jr. They acquired property, horses, a fine buggy and some money. It was evident that Henry had ambition as well as ability.

A Forest Interlude

It was such a pretty Saturday with temps in the 60’s a light breeze from the southwest and a partly cloudy sky. The perfect day to do some Autumn yard chores before the wet cold Winter arrived. I’ve been cutting up the four fallen trees and chopping them into firewood and after several loads I decided to take a break about midafternoon on the back patio and hydrate with a frosty adult beverage.