Friends and Acquaintances
    Over the years I’ve met quite a few people. Some of whom became very dear to me while others have simply drifted away. Some with whom I’ve made close contact while others I have barely met at all. This may seem strange but the meeting people the internet has closed the distance and allowed those friendships to form much faster than the snail mail of old pen pal letters.
    Because of my blog and Facebook, I’ve met many people and maintained friendships that would have withered and died if left to the letters sent by mail. The books that I’ve written has forced me to go out into the public and tell people that I am an author, pass out my business cards, and that I have written books. In ways, it’s oddly different and yet the same as when I worked as a nursing supervisor. I was constantly working with the public, but on a smaller scale. It was, limited to occurrences inside of the hospital and I was a representative of the hospital and not me.
    With the need to sell my books and share my Blogspot I keep making acquaintances. Most are superficial. My close friends are few and far between. There are many people that I’ve met in school, in the Navy, and while working at my jobs that I wish now I would have stayed in touch. They were interesting people that had much to share in knowledge and wisdom. Many told stories to me and I wish I had listened more closely to remember them and to share them with others. Those who read my blog have been deprived because of my stupidity and those tales will disappear, untold into oblivion.
    That’s the reasons that I write stories of my family, thoughts from my school days, tales of my work experiences, and fictional stories that my mind recalls or creates. I am so thankful to all of those who read what I write and take the time to share their thoughts and lives with me.

Pull Up a Chair
“Pull up a chair” is a catchy phrase that you might hear when visiting an older friend or a relative as they welcome you into their home or to come up onto their porch with the invitation to “set awhile and have something cold to drink on a warm day. Maybe they’d ask if you’d like a cup of coffee. This was a casual greeting that I’ve often heard when visiting my Grandmother Rebecca Rugg Miner. She would be shelling beans and ask me to help her with the words “Pull up a chair” here’s a pan. You can help me. She would say the same thing when she had her quilting frames up and she was sewing a pattern to connect the bottom to the “pieced” pattern of the quilt top. The design of the to-be-sewn lines had already been sketched lightly with a pencil. She’d hand me a threaded needle to sew the straight lines. She kept the fancy scrolls and designs to herself stitching them with her practiced arthritic fingers.
Have you ever been somewhere and a good friend enters? Have you ever saved a seat and said “pull up a chair” and join us knowing that it would be special to have them sitting with you? Then there are acquaintances that cause you to cringe when they “pull up a chair” because they either rub you the wrong way or they prattle on talking about one subject after another. Do you deny their desire to join you?
I remember while in the United States Navy Corps School of playing poker to while away the weekend. I would hover around the area where a poker game was happening until someone quit the table and I would “pull up a chair” and join the game. The pots were soda pop top tabs instead of nickels or the larger tabs from cans on nuts or Pringles instead of dimes. Because gambling was against Navy regulations, the actual money was hidden from sight. I never lost or gained money, but would often make money by selling my seat to someone who wanted to join the game and “pull up a chair.”

 Not Quite Like Granddad
I was just thinking of some stories about my Grandfather Thomas Edson Beck. Yes. I was named after him and my Grandfather Ray Miner. I can remember the story of my Grandfather Beck having a toothache so severe that he actually took care of the pain himself. No, he didn’t extract it, he heated and bent the “rat tail” end of a rasp file over into a 90 degree L shape, then reheated it into a red hot weapon of self-destruction and burned the nerve out of the decayed tooth. I’ve not done anything to match that, but I do have most of my dental work done without anesthesia. I prefer to feel a bit of discomfort than to have the feeling of a fat lip in my lap for hours.
When my Granddad was 21 years of age, a logging accident broke his leg severely enough for the doctors to operate and insert a plate and screws. He still had the bill from the hospital. I can’t remember the exact cost, but it was less than fifty dollars. The plate and screws stayed in place until he was in his nineties and a screw loosened. The doctors removed the screw and plate from his leg. He would readily show the hardware preserved in a medicine bottle teasing that is was an antique.
On the other hand as a teen, I developed a cellulitis from and older injury and a re-injury. I was stuck in the hospital for nearly a week getting penicillin injections in my tusch. As a teen I hated being “confined” for a week, writing notes on my lunch tray begging to be released.
Granddad Beck developed a shingles virus that covered his head and forehead on one side. Shingles is noted for following the nerve pathway on half the affected area. The doctors said that he was fortunate that it hadn’t infected his eye, because the pain would have been nearly unbearable. The virus surrounded his “god eye.” He had been blind in one eye for many years.
On the other hand, my case of shingles was on my left side near the bottom of my rib cage. The crusty eruptions made moving and breathing painful, but I am sure that my Granddad’s pain was more severe.
My Granddad was on a ladder cleaning the gutters on the three story side on his house when he was eighty years old. Me. my kids throw a fit when I get onto my two story roof to clean my chimney, but then, I’m not my Grandpa.

 Measuring Up
I’ve mentioned before that my father Edson Carl Beck was a very opinionated, headstrong person who when he had convinced himself of something, it would take God Himself to make my dad change his mind of what he thought was true. One story came to my mind was his thoughts about Jesus Christ. He believed that NO person could be six foot tall. Where or how he landed on this “fact” I will never know, but he said that Jesus Christ was six foot even and because Jesus Christ was perfect, no other person could be just six foot tall because Christ was the one and only perfect being.
While I was thinking on this, I remembered another of his misconstrued ideas. Back quite a few years ago television commercials honed in on the facts their products were low sodium. This was after doctors-in-the-know decided low sodium diets were a necessity, so many companies promoted their product as “No salt added.” It was the craze for the manufacturers to tout the fact that they were in line with the “new standard.” If my dad didn’t have eggs, some kind of pork, and toast for breakfast, he ate shredded wheat cereal. One shredded wheat company was quick to jump on the bandwagon with commercials saying their cereal had “no added salt.” My dad’s attention fastened in on this advertisement. To my dad the commercial meant that they were removing salt from their shredded wheat. Each morning, he would add a few shakes of salt on his shredded wheat, because the cereal “didn’t taste right” any longer without the salt that he added.
Again back to the taste test; when I was in my prepubescent years about ten to twelve years old, Dad would buy our milk from a local farmer. The milk was raw and unpasteurized. Sometimes, the cows would eat weeds and the strong weed taste would permeate the milk. I could taste the weed’s pungent flavoring of the milk. Dad would get upset with me saying that there was nothing wrong with the milk and that I was to drink it or use it on my cereal. I never knew if he told the truth or not, but because of his frugal nature I believe he didn’t want a gallon on milk to go to waste.

 Another Day, Another Memory
Some days quickly flow by one into another without leaving a ripple of a memory to recall later, but there are days that imprint themselves so deeply that they can be recalled many years after. The past few days have been truly memorable. Thursday afternoon I was blessed to attend the annual Mt. Carmel Christian School’s tribute to our military veterans. It was another superb event with songs and recitations paying respect and honoring the military men, women, and the families of the military. The students shared stories of extreme bravery and poignant tales of past military men and women. There was a march of flags for the different branches of military service while playing their anthems. Later there was recognition for each veteran who was present. All grades of the school participated with those in the upper grades taking on the tasks of the dramatic stories.
Following the program, the school provided a lunch with ham, and side dishes as well as desserts, coffee, tea, and soft drinks. All in all another memory was made.
Friday evening I joined with the other volunteers from the Ohiopyle Volunteer Fire Department who recently donated their time and energy to make the annual Sausage, Pancake, and Buckwheat Festival a success. This festival is the fire company’s primary money raising effort for the department to cover its expenses and purchasing new equipment. This year despite the rain, we were able to serve 5,500 paying customers as well as feeding the workers. It was a record event.
Saturday was one of those flow-by days, but Sunday was completely different. The church had our normal services and a goodbye luncheon for our assistant Pastor. He and his wife became part of our church family five years ago. Those years have sped by and they will be sorely missed. He has desires to go farther with his education and feels God is leading him to start a church planting ministry. The ideas for growing our church has increased the awareness that there are those in communities who still need to hear the Good News of the Gospel. The musical talents of he and his wife are phenomenal and will be an asset wherever they decide to land. Best wishes and prayers in your new endeavor.

Bathtub Bed
My mom Sybil Miner Beck and my dad Carl were both stubborn at times. One night they locked horns. It wasn’t a fight actually. It was more like two Sumo wrestlers seeing who would move first. Dad was upset that Mom had walked into the bathroom while he was still inside. He got into a huff because she didn’t leave right away, but quickly forgot about it all. A little while later, he walked in on her while she was in the bathroom.
That started the standoff. Mom asked him to leave and he said that he wasn’t ready to leave. Mom exploded “I can’t come into the bathroom while you’re in here, but it’s okay for you to come in while I’m in here?”
Dad said, “I can be in here if I want to.”
“If I can’t be in here while you’re in here, you need to get out.” Mom exclaimed.
Dad countered, “I’m not leaving until you do.”
Dad refused. Mom really got her back up and she refused to leave; stalemate.
Mom called to us kids, “Kids, get me a pillow and a blanket.” Mom had laid claim to the bathtub. Mom was short enough to fit the tub comfortably slightly curled. It would have been hard for Dad who was just over six foot to be comfortable in the tub. She settled in for the night.
Dad decided to sleep on the floor. He was too bullheaded to call for a pillow. He used the bathroom rugs and a few towels for his bedding.
This is the kicker, it was Saturday night and Mom was an intelligent woman. She knew Dad would not miss church in the morning. He might stay in the bathroom to shave and brush his teeth, but he would leave the bathroom first to eat breakfast before making the Sunday morning trek. She was going too, but she could go without breakfast if need be.
Dad did leave the bathroom first and all that the tiff accomplished was that they were both stiff and sore Sunday morning.
I was glad that I didn’t have to use the restroom that night. You know what they say, “Two’s company, but three’s a crowd.”

Rainy Days and Mondays Always Gets Me Down
The decreasing daylight hours and the rain always make me feel sluggish and sort of depressed. It makes me want to hide inside knowing that winter is just around the corner. I’m glad that I have retired and don’t have to go out when the winter winds blow and the snows fall. I won’t say I like the rain, but I guess it is better than the snow and ice.
I do have a metal roof and have heard others say how much they like to hear the rain falling on the roof, but with the windows closed and the plastic storm windows in place, all I hear is the dull roar of a barrage of raindrops hitting the roof. There is no music of the drops pinging off the metal roof.
When the rains make everything soggy and water filled, it does make me want to remain inside where I am dry and warm. When mankind started to build shelters, I’m sure his wife wanted to be warm and dry as well. He would do all he could to keep the rain, wind, and snow outside and to keep their dwelling snug and secure. They had to carry water from a stream or well to cook, drink, and to clean. I’m sure that fetching the water day after day became more and more burdensome, so the woman of the house probably shared the desire to have water brought into the house with pipes and pump. After years of wanting to keep water out of the house, now it became a luxury, then a necessity to have water into the house and then a way to allow it to escape. Need I mention the privy?
Well, it’s Tuesday and the sun pierced the early morning mist with a golden glow. Even though the temperature belied the sunny warm feeling that the sun falsely shared, I was able to do some chores around the house. The “pool noodles” that I placed on the line for my outdoor sump pump several years ago had disintegrated and needed to be replaced. The “pool noodle” for the line that delivers fuel oil to my oil furnace was also in deplorable condition and needed to be replaced. All the “pool noodles” that had been so plenteous over the summer had all gone into hibernation and instead I purchased insulating foam covers designed for pipes. That chore is done.Wednesday, waking to snow. I want to go back to bed.