April 2011

Volume 32

Among Momma�s favorite hymns was "I Need Thee Every Hour" which was ever on her lips as she struggled to raise us five children after Daddy died. Times were hard sometimes, and the uncertainty must have been hard to bear. But she would also sing "Heavenly Sunshine" and "Showers of Blessings." She could pray with full trust "�give us this day our daily bread�" knowing He would.

It is often said "April showers bring May flowers." Here in our beloved Bodock Land in the middle south, we run a month ahead of that, with jonquils, yellowbells, quince, spirea, and henbit having bloomed in late February.

Many of us are already picking and eating kole crops from our spring garden, have the taters and cabbages and onions growing with promise, and will plant our Summer gardens just after April 15, when the threat of frost is past and the ground will be reliably warm. Of course we want to plant root crops during a waning moon and above ground crops in a waxing moon.

The heavy showers of early spring put what Ralph Graham, my daddy-in-law, called season in the ground. The slow rains soak deep into the soil to be wicked up when needed during the dry spells of summer. Most of us can remember hardly ever watering a garden in the old days, but recent weather patterns make watering necessary, such as the nine straight weeks of no measurable rain last summer.

One blessing I am praying a little harder for this year is a shower of heirloom maters. The last two years have been more like a drizzle. Mimi says more like a light mist. Well, hope springs eternal, so once again I will set out a dozen or so varieties. I plan to only plant twenty-four vines. Mimi is wondering why I have forty on order from "http://www.tomatobabycompany.com/"

The Bodock Post is another shower of blessings. We share blessings of humor, faith, and stories of long ago. I am blessed reading your stories.

We trust you will enjoy this month�s edition of the Bodock Post and you will enjoy the many articles from several contributors who have shared stories from their lives in the red clay hills of Bodock Land. Perhaps this is the year you will be inspired to shower us with a blessing of one of your stories to share.

~ By Carl Wayne Hardeman, Editor

Photo courtesy: "http://www.splendorfarms.com/bed-breakfast-about.html" Splendor Farms B&B and Trail Riding Facility

In 1941 I went to Baldwin, Mississippi to work in a double capacity as a librarian and a teacher of two social studies classes. The school building was new and we all were very pleased with it. I loved the library and took a great deal of pride in it. I also enjoyed teaching the social study classes.

March was an extremely windy month, we heard of several schools sustaining storm damage. March 16 was an exceptionally windy day. Most teachers and students left as soon as the school day ended. I stayed late to catch up on library work. The senior English teacher and eight students stayed to practice a play. The music teacher stayed to give me a lesson and the janitor stayed to complete his janitorial duties.

After I completed my music lesson I stood to leave. The loudest clap of thunder shook the building. We looked out the south window and to our dismay we saw a funnel cloud drop to the ground and roar toward our building - we ran through the auditorium where we were joined by the eight students and the English teacher. We all ran out into the hall that ran south to north through the building. We nestled on the inside steps at the north end of the building. The noise of the building being torn from its setting was terrifying. Fortunately for us the inside wall of the room on our right fell over us and protected us from the flying debris of the building. The students closest to the door were soon able to get out, as they escaped, they reached back and helped the rest of us out.

The house across the street was completely gone. I went over to check to see if anyone was there. The lady was lying face down by the bath tub. Her brains were beside her. Soon her husband and several men wrapped her body in a sheet caught on a shrub and carried the body to the funeral home up the street.

I returned to the boarding house as Mrs. Grissom, our landlady, and her son were preparing to go to a friend�s house. The friend had a storm house, we accepted their invitation to go with them. My roommate and I decided not to go into the storm house. A huge oak tree was at the door of the storm house. We decided to go to the bottom of the hill the house was located on. At the bottom of the hill was a ravine that looked like the perfect place. My roommate spread her blanket for us to sit on. I opened my umbrella to protect us from the rain; of course the umbrella was gone with the wind before I got it open. Rain such as I have never seen blasted us.

After this second storm of the day, we went to the home of my roommate�s aunt. The aunt found us dry clothes. The grandmother who lived there gathered us around her and we read several chapters of the Bible including Romans 8. We all uttered prayers for our deliverance.

After the storm, our big question was "can we continue with school?" Soon the problem was solved. The elementary school building occupied a whole block and they let us use the auditorium and basement. East of the block was the Presbyterian church. North of the block was the Baptist church, across the highway, and still north, was the Methodist church. All three churches let us use their basements. I�ve never seen such cooperation between churches. We also received many library books and set up a library in one basement.

We used the arrangement the rest of the school term and started the same in the fall for the next sesison. Alas, in October the elementary school building burned. "What Next?" was the question on everybody�s lips.

The next adjustment was not pleasant, but by now we were used to making adjustments. Trustees were able to buy some army barracks, and move them down to the high school campus. They were not sealed, and there was an open space between the wall and the roof. Oil drums were used to provide heat. People sitting near the heaters were too hot, and those further away were too cold. I usually wore a coat all day.

Despite all the inconveniences and discomforts, we felt close to both teachers and students. However, when I was offered a better position in another school, I took it. As the time to leave drew near, I felt sad and guilty. The class I sponsored added to my guilt with loving gifts and a sweet appreciation speech, at a party they gave for me.

~ By Imogene Jackson, Contributor

I have been a Baptist most of my life and feel honored to be a part of this denomination. However, I do realize that Baptist are not the only "right" people around and I have no ax to grind with other denominations. There are so many protestant groups, some with household names and others without any affiliation to any major denomination at all. Most are sound in their doctrine and with those I agree. They are correct and proper in their basic beliefs and we only differ in minor areas. Only our Lord knows each person and each denominations real belief and direction. I must leave it there in His hands since my mind is finite.

However, about the first of March this year an article hit the media about a Baptist church that has come down hard on some issues that most conservative folks are already fighting. They have, in their exuberance, hit on the "First Amendment" issue, freedom of speech. Yes, we do have freedom of speech in this country, I�m so glad we do, but they carried it way too far. The entire situation has made it to the Supreme Court.

The church members have protested and marched about carrying signs and placards that read, "Thank God for Dead Soldiers," Thank God for IED (homemade land mines)," and others that are equally disgusting.

Can you imagine such a thing? I cannot conceive how any church, no matter how left wing they are, could condone a thing like this! Regardless of what they are trying to prove; statements, placards and signs of this nature are way out of line, inappropriate and disgusting.

Our grandson, Sgt. Garrett Misener age twenty five, was killed December 27, 2010 in Afghanistan by an IED. The sign "Thank God for IEDs," was especially infuriating to me along with the fact that a Baptist church was sponsoring the demonstration.

I realize that we have freedom of speech, the court ruled eight to one, saying even misguided Baptist still have the right to speak freely. However, being free to speak something derogatory should have its limits. After all, I have the right to make a fist, and to swing my arm, but that right ends where your nose begins!

This is a tight rope the law must walk. Since Christian and moral values have flown from our society, it seems that every former taboo is surfacing. Things us older folks would scarcely speak of, and then only in private, is now broadcast in living color on TV, the papers, and the movies. We�re told we need this to be an enlightened society. Yep! We�re being enlightened alright! We�re seeing just how low down and rotten we really are. We are discovering warts we did not know existed. Ugly things once covered, concealed, and hidden are becoming front line news. We know from scripture that there are men who chose company with other men who have been around since Sodom and Gomorrah. However, today those same characters want to be legally married! How foolish have we become!

I am a firm believer in free speech! However, this needs to be tempered with responsibility. Make a fist if you must, swing your arm if you like, but when it comes in contact with my nose, then responsibility should take charge. There must be a limit to where my rights stop and your rights begin, and vice-versa.

Where Westbrook Baptist Church is heading with this campaign I know not. It must make perfect sense to them, but my Bible is not a promoter of ill will, disharmony, hatred and the like; it is about loving one�s neighbor, and even one�s enemy. This action is headed on a collision course. Because it involves a church, and especially a Baptist church, the media will give it an extended "run" in the headlines.

For those of you out there that may not know about Baptist, please don�t lump us all into one basket. There are hundreds of different kinds and beliefs; one hat does not fit all. There are Ultra Liberal Baptist and Very Conservative Baptists, and a host that fall somewhere in between. There are scores of names like: Southern, Northern, Independent, Hard Shell, Free Will, Missionary, and many, many more. Under these titles there are sub-titles, spin-offs, and "in name only" Baptists.

In my opinion, to be called a Baptist should have some responsibility attached. My personal belief is that any church that would put so many hundreds of thousands of Baptists in a bad light should be required to resign from the denomination immediately and be required to issue a statement that they do not speak for anyone but themselves. That church and pastor should be held accountable to Baptists worldwide. If their conduct does not proclaim the love of God, the love of man to his neighbor, salvation of the lost, and our love of those who fought and died for our right to have free speech; then they should be declared a "non-church" and any, and all, privileges as a church revoked.

~ By Ralph Jones, Managing Editor

Growing up without cell phones was wonderful, but then there was nothing to compare to, as we didn�t know they�d someday exist and how intrusive they would become. Party lines were still around in my youth, but most of the time my family had a private line. Here, I�m remembering my teen years and beyond.

While certain parts of the country used alpha-numeric dialing, such as BR-549, in our neck of the woods we had only to remember a four-digit number. Because my family lived in five different northeast Mississippi towns prior to my becoming a teen, I don�t remember what our home phone number was. But, if I�m not mistaken, Dad�s business number for Carter and Austin Gro. & Mkt. was 7956.

> Calling long distance enabled us to keep in touch with relatives, but it was more expensive than letter writing, so long-distance calling was kept to a minimum. The only unusual thing I recall about long distance calls back then was that we had to dial 0 to be connected to an operator for assistance to complete the long distance call. Now, we have 1+ dialing for land lines and our cell phones don�t even require the prefixed " 1."

> As best I can remember, I never used the office phone at school to call either of my parents, and they surely didn�t call me. If they needed me to know something, it waited until school was out. Therefore, I hold no sympathy for either the student or the parent who insists on students having a cell phone in today�s classroom.

> Early in my retail career (1973), I asked my wife not to call me at work unless it was really important. I got enough calls from customers phoning me and didn�t need additional interruptions from my family.

> Later, when I worked in an office setting, I had a co-worker whose wife would call him several times a day. Her name was Jean. Several of us noted her frequent calls, and while my wife seldom phoned me at work, I started an office joke of referring to Barbara as Barbara Jean on those rare occasions when she did call me. The women in the office shamed me but still thought my actions were funny.

> Before the company I retired from required us to have cell phones, we went through the "beeper" or pager phase. And, there was nothing worse than getting a page to call my office while driving out in a rural area with little access to pay phones.

> Cell phones for business use soon afterwards became the norm for my company, and it was the beginning of the end of personal privacy. Bosses expected, often demanded, our phones be on kept 24/7. And, there was nothing like trying to sleep in a motel room and getting a 1:00 a.m. call on the cell phone because someone in another state dialed a wrong number.

> Now that I�m retired, the most pleasurable sound I hear is my cell phone ringing and the knowledge it is not a boss or a retailer with some problem for me to solve. What once caused my back and neck muscles to tense, now brings a soothing sensation. Best of all, I�m no longer tethered to a cell phone.

> I feel sorry for today�s youth who feel they, their friends, and their parents must be instantly accessible. And, to some extent, many adults exhibit a similar need for continual accessibility. They simply don�t know the simple pleasures of life that this older generation has enjoyed.

> ~ By Wayne L. Carter, Associate Editor & Publisher

April is here and you should have completed all of your heavy pruning. Lime sulphur should have been sprayed and organics applied to the bushes and worked in.

Bushes should be leafing out and some are already starting to bud. Lady Banks should be full of buds and by the end of April she should be in full bloom.

The first week of the month give each bush about three tablespoons of a rich nitrogen fertilizer and three tablespoons of Epsom salts. Sprinkle this mixture around the drip line of the bush and work into the soil. Mid-April, I recommend that you give each bush another dose of fertilizer.

The mixture that I use is mix one tablespoon of a good rose bloom food (Bloom Kote, Super Bloom), one tablespoon of Epsom salts, one tablespoon of fish emulsion, and one tablespoon of chelated iron. I mix these items in a gallon of water and pour them around the drip line of each rose. The roses that I do this to are hybrid teas, floribundas, and grandifloras.

The other roses in my landscape I give about one half cup of triple 13. The last week in April, I repeat this same fertilizer program. This formula is for large bushes and I cut this formula in half for mini roses and smaller new bushes.

> April is also the time to get your roses on a regular spray program. I spray all my roses every seven to ten days with a mixture of fungicide, insecticide, and miracle grow. The only roses that I do not spray this often are knockout roses, and I spray them at the beginning of the season and then once every six weeks.

> The fungicides that I prefer are Compass, Daconil, Banner Maxx, and Mancozeb. There are others on the market and Daconil is not a good choice after daytime temperatures reach 85 degrees on a daily basis.

> I add Malathion to this mix to control insects. I also add a few drops of dish wash soap to the mix to make the chemicals stick to the bushes. I like to alternate the fungicides to help prevent fungi from building an immunity to them.

> Keep a close watch when the buds start to show color and mist them with a hand spray bottle to control thrips and bud worms. I use Malathion, but other insecticides will work also. If you only have a few roses (a dozen or so) I recommend a product that is a soil drench that you use about every six weeks. That product is called "Bayer Once and Done." It is, however, not cost effective if you have a large number of roses in your landscape. Sprayers are available in all sizes and styles.

> I prefer the four to six gallon size that are on wheels or as a backpack and are battery powered. These sprayers are available from Rosemania at 888-600-9665 and Rose Inc. at 918-455-7673. Both of these companies have good reputations and have fairly quick delivery times. These sprayers are on average $125.00 to 200.00 and are a good investment if you have a large rose garden.

> As always when using chemicals, especially when spraying, wear protective clothing and a respirator. Please read the labels and follow the directions, more is not better. If you have any questions, send me an email at "mailto:[email protected]"or give me a call at 662-316-0088.

> Happy Gardening and Keep Digging in the Dirt.

~ By Tim Burress, Contributor

Some say they are Canadian Geese because they come from Canada. Others say they are named for a person whose name was Canada, but to a boy growing up on a cotton and dairy farm in Pontotoc County in the hills of North Mississippi, they were "The Geese of October."

We picked cotton and gathered corn from August until late October, and even into November. We saw few people other than the close neighbors, and our own family. Therefore, it was a big event when the first geese flew over our farm. It became sort of a game to see who would first spot, or hear the south flying geese. There were many times that we could hear the honking of the geese, but they were flying so high that there were times that we never saw them.

The arrival of the flocks of geese was much more than just geese flying over. It was if they brought another season, and another world to us.It was time for the smell of the cotton leaves after the first frost of the season. We knew that winter was well upon us, and the time of harvesting the crops was growing toward the end when they arrived. It seemed that they actually brought the cold weather from the north.

The arrival of the geese was sort of a magical time. We knew that when the geese arrived that it would be only a short time until we would be buying our once a year clothing, and returning to school for the long winter months. The clothing would usually be ordered from the Sears Roebuck catalogue, or the yearly visit to the stores in town. To me it seemed that the smells of the tanned leather and new clothing went right along with the arrival of the geese.

As a young boy I always wondered how a Canada goose would look if it were on the ground. You see, they never landed near our farm, and usually were very high in the sky when they flew over. I would dream of the places they had been. Where had they begun their journey, where were they going, and how did they choose their leader? Why did they fly in a V, and how did they choose which would fly at the end of the V. Were males in front to protect the females, or did each one take their place at the head of the flock?

I wondered why we never saw the geese returning to the north. Did they take a different route, or as I thought in my child�s mind, maybe they just remained somewhere south, or could it be that we did not see them because we were not in the fields when they returned?

From the many studies made of Canada Geese, the V is a protection mode, as well as a means of fighting the strong winds. Also, apparently, and according to studies made, the leader is not just one goose, but is part of a rotation that provides rest for the flock as they make the extremely long flight south.

All of the studies of geese are well and good, but to me they are just a memory of a small boy staring up into the October sky and dreaming of far away places, and wondering if I would ever see the places the geese had seen.

~ By M. G. "Russ" Russell, Contributor

Some time ago there was an article on the Internet entitled "Would You Choose Your Pet Over Your Partner." The survey, by a legitimate entity, said that about 14 percent of current pet owners would tell their spouses or significant others to take a hike rather than to give up their pets. When it came to unmarried pet owners, the numbers rose to more than 25 percent.

I too, am a pet lover and so was my family before me. Since I was just a small lad, pets of all kinds have graced our family. Dad said there were no stray dogs around our neighborhood, because my mom would have me hold the dog while she fetched food for the animal and then it was "our" dog.

> Just a few years ago a little Schnauzer came into our home. She was a small thing, 17 inches tall, silver/gray and was "Miss Personality." Our son had found her in the middle of a busy six lane street. He scooped her up and took her home. He already had two dogs and his pets gave her a wide birth, because she was so assertive. Because of this attitude, he named her "Miss Margaret Houlihan" after "Hot Lips" of TV�s M.A.S.H..

> All their extensive efforts to find the true owner went for naught. Rather than take her to the pound, Peggy decided she might want her as a pet. I reluctantly agreed. Although I enjoy pets, I know of the time, work, and attention that they demand.

> The long and short of that incident was that Miss Margaret became our dog, but took up with me, not Peggy. The dog liked her O.K. but she chose me. Miss Margaret searched me out and when I sat down; she thought it was her job to get into my lap. She was very protective of me and no other dog came near without a ferocious challenge.

> This relationship went on for over 12 years. Our vet, and my friend, Dr. Bob Parker, had told us that she was about 4 or 5 years old when we assumed ownership of her. We loved her with all of our heart and she us.

> Dr. Parker always enjoyed seeing her and did all within his power to keep her well and happy. However, as she reached 17 or 18 years old she developed a bladder condition. It was treatable for a few years then finally he said she was in pain much of the time. An operation could be done but there was no guarantee it would solve the problem. I had a tough decision to make.

> Granddad Phillips had taught me as a lad not let any animal suffer. He was a country veterinarian, of sorts, and doctored many farm animals near his home in Randolph, MS. He had taught me to take an animal out of its misery rather than to let it suffer. To keep my little friend from hurting, I chose to have her put to sleep.

> Dr. Parker said he would take care of the whole matter and I would not even have to come to his hospital.

> "No way, doc," I said. "She�s been a good friend and I could not desert her in her last moments."

> At the clinic I gathered my little sweetheart in my arms and held her for a while as she snuggled into my lap. It was time to do the humane thing. My friend gave her the shot that put her to sleep, then later, the additional amount was given, causing her heart to stop. She slipped away without any pain whatsoever.

> I wept bitter tears! I told him to forgive me for crying,

> "Grown men are not supposed to cry," I said.

His comment was, "Who said?"

We both cried and in a while we wrapped her in a warm surround and I took her to my home and buried her in a nice shady place and put up a head stone. I loved her more than any pet before or since.

> However, saying all that, would I keep Miss Margaret and send Peggy packing? No way!"

> Besides teaching me to not let an animal suffer, my granddad had taught me another thing; that animals are placed here on earth to serve and befriend man, not the other way around. Scripture agrees with this concept. Granddad instilled in me to not make pets of things that might later be food. Chickens, hogs, even rabbits were off limits as pets. He said that they were placed here to give us food, and I believe that also.

> Now we come to a question someone asked after their pet had died, "Will there be any animals in heaven?"

> I�d have to say "Yes!"

But, will all animals go to heaven? The answer would be "No."

> I do not believe every cow, bird, chicken, and pig will be there. In Revelation it tells of horses of different colors being ridden from heaven in the last days. So, right or wrong, I have come to my own conclusion.

> I believe animals that have been of special value to believers will be there. The donkey that Jesus rode into Jerusalem, Balaam�s animal that talked, and the big fish that swallowed Jonah, all might have a special place in heaven. That special pet for an elderly person, the seeing-eyed dog, the police dog who saves his handler�s life, the other animals that have made a difference to man will probably be there, but I have no chapter and verse to verify that.

> Heaven being the perfect place that it is, may offer admission to special animals and pets, continuing to make their owners happy and possibly do service for our Lord.

> ~ By Ralph R. Jones, Managing Editor

I am a fifty-three year subscriber of National Geographic Magazine, and after all these years, I still have more than 99% of the monthly issues. My youngest uncle got me started with a gift subscription back in 1958 after I had won 1^st place in a high school science fair. After graduation, I picked up the yearly tab, and can�t imagine life without NG.

Occasionally, a new copy gets buried under the mound of weekly mail and is often not discovered for a few weeks. Since the eighties, I�ve tried to maintain my collection by annually purchasing a pair of slipcases for a year�s worth of magazines.

At year�s end, I try to round up all the NGs from the living room, bedroom, and bathroom and put them in the proper volume�s slipcase. As I was doing so about a year ago, I discovered a monthly issue still in the plastic sleeve in which it was mailed almost a year prior. That doesn�t say much for me waiting anxiously for the issues to arrive, but it says a lot about my busy lifestyle.

It�s early March as of this writing, and only a day or two ago I found the January 2011 issue, unopened, in a stack of old mail. What I saw on the cover shocked me. No, it wasn�t the cityscape depicting a nighttime scene of multilane highways and streaks of light generated by headlamps of vehicles weaving the pathway that caught my eye. It was the words of the cover story, "POPULATION 7 BILLION How your world will change."

Most of us, especially those of us who are not US Representatives or Senators, have difficulty fathoming numbers above a few millions. I recall a TV show of yesteryear, "Naked City," which was about New York City. It was a police drama series and always closed with the narration, "There are eight million stories in the Naked City. This has been one of them."

Eight million, now that�s a number I can imagine, even though I�ve not been to New York City. Pontotoc has roughly 6,000 residents. A thousand Pontotocs would have 6,000,000 people, which is still less than the population of New York in the late fifties and early sixties. To imagine six billion people, one needs to comprehend one million Pontotocs. I can�t visualize that many people, but according to the NG article, our world population will reach 7 billion this year.

I�m still trying to wrap my mind around the 3 billion inhabitants of planet Earth in 1960, the year I graduated high school, and the fact the world�s population has more than doubled in the past 50 years.

The inventor of the microscope, Antoni van Leeuwenhoek, once theorized the maximum number of people who could live on our planet, all at one time, was 13.385 billion. He based his calculations on the assumption that Holland, his homeland, was about as densely populated as any place on earth, and by studying maps of the world he speculated the habitable land on earth was only 13,385 times that of Holland.

Today, scientists wonder if Earth can sustain 9 billion people. There may be room for more than the 13 billion people Leeuwenhoek calculated could inhabit our planet, but in my opinion, there won�t be enough food for everyone. What this world needs is a really big war. Armageddon anyone?

~ By Wayne Carter, Associate Editor & Publisher

Anew study says that sleep deprivation makes people more hungry. All those years of failed diets, and all Kirstie Alley needed was a nap. - Alex Schubert

Sarah Palin is visiting Israel. Haven't the Jews suffered enough? - Jay Leno

Our loveable friend, Cuzin Cornpone, appears only in The Bodock Post.

It is our desire to provide a monthly newsletter about rural living with photographs of yesterday and today, including timely articles about conservative politics, religion, food, restaurant reviews, gardening, humor, history, and non-fiction columns by folks steeped in our Southern lifestyle.

Copyright � 2011 ~ The Bodock Post.

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