AN OLD COUPLE'S HOUSE

An Old Couple’s House

Have you ever been in an old couple’s house?

Tis really a grand sight to see

It’s an eclectic assortment of Ma and Pa Kettle

With a little bit of Fibber McGee.

There are trashcans and Kleenex beside every chair

Newspapers on tables stacked high

There are piles of books waiting for a” just in case” moment

And lamps bright for tired old eyes

There are antiques and junque everywhere that you look

And most are covered with dust

And visitors have no comprehension

Why we keep them, but we know we must

Each one a reminder of days now gone by

All the things we have loved through the years

No meaning for others, but to us they are gold

In our memories they bring happy tears

The dishes are old, with faded vintage design

The cups and the saucers don’t match

The bowls of all sizes lopsidedly sit

Now they’re part of just one mingled batch.

The bed with mixed patterns of pillows and sheets

Sits between bedside tables that hold

All the pills that are needed for pain and for sleep

There’s a quilt at the foot for night cold

The walls are covered with pictures so precious

Each one tells a story of “when”

When we lived in “that house”, when we had “that cat”

When young daughter had the missing tooth grin;

There are baby pictures there, now of three generations

And wedding pictures, handsome groom, pretty bride

All reminders of the many miles of this journey

That we’ve travelled and still side by side.

The curtains aren’t new and the walls need some paint

And the carpet is definitely faded

The windows won’t open and the plumbing can leak

And the furniture is very outdated

The recliners and rockers show signs of their age

But comfort only matters by now

They know our bodies and we know their soft places

So to these time adjustments we bow

There’s no use denying old age coming on

We’re comfortable in this wrinkled skin

Our faces show laugh lines and worry crinkles too

What we’ve seen and the places we’ve been

So to us this is home, we’re not ready to leave

Though we know we can’t live forever

For as long as we last, we’ll enjoy the past

And the future, til life’s ties we sever.

Moneymaker House on Harwood Avenue

I was so thrilled to read in last night's Lebanon Daily Record that the Laclede County Historical Society has now received title to the Moneymaker House on Harwood Avenue. I have always loved that house. As a little girl living in Old Town Lebanon on the corner of Wood & Apple Streets, and walking to school each day, I passed that house every day and always thought it was the most beautiful house in town. The large mature trees in the front yard were always so stately with their long curvy branches sweeping the ground and creating a canopy for the squirrels to have their own private playhouse during the spring and summer. In the fall, the leaves became a gorgeous array of colors gradually falling to the ground and making a carpet under the trees, eventually paving the way for the white snow which inevitably would come as winter would arrive. I loved the low branches sweeping the ground at the Moneymaker house so much that I asked Milan in the early years of our marriage to le...

THE NIGHT GOD WATCHED OVER MY SON IN LAW

I’m sure most of us who read the Lebanon newspaper on a daily basis are appalled at the number of drug stops, domestic abuse, and break-ins that take place in Lebanon every day. I often wonder how our law enforcement men and women keep a straight face at the stupid statements made by the people they encounter during these incidents. We sometimes have to laugh, wondering how dumb these people think our officers are. But we become very serious when we think of so many drug and alcohol impaired drivers being out on the roads and highways at the same time we are transporting our loved ones back and forth over those same roads. And we must never forget that every one of those traffic stops, domestic disturbance calls and other 911 calls puts those officers at tremendous risk of serious injury or the loss of their own lives, even when the situation appears to be routine and mundane. Such was the case on December 9, 1991 when Deputy Sheriff Leslie Roark went to the home of James R. Joh...

Straight From The Hart

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