Michael Dean Church | NEW! Artist – Nashville. Great New Artist here in the city of everything country! Nashville New Artist….ya’ll give him a listen!!
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I need a niche’….ahhh, that’s my problem!
SO I HAVE FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT! I need a niche‘!!!!!
After listening to my fellow blogger read to me over the phone about the ways to have a more active response blog via WORDPRESS info, I realized my dilemma as she was reading aloud. I need a niche’……so elementary my dear Watson! If I only had a niche’ I would be noticed…..if I only had a niche’ I would be possibly FRESH PRESSED! Hmmmm is that it? Who the heck knows?
I thought I had a niche’…quippie, funny slightly sarcastic banter back and forth with myself and the great internet world for which seems not to be a niche’. What in the world could be better…. a play on words …preacherswifeintheknow! This is an oxymoron actually. As a preachers wife I am usually the last to know. But, I attempt to presume I know a lot of things and those things I think I know are pr
obably what keeps me from all the readers.
All I know is that I am only able to write about what I know and live….that’s how I roll! Maybe this isn’t the best way but It is my way, so just like the great crooner, Frank Sinatra, I do it my way!
At least I am in good company.
May Day! May Day!
Usually the words…may day are screamed from the top of the lungs of a radio operator on a spiraling to the earth jet plane or an underwater submarine that is being attacked, or at least that’s what I attribute it to. This is a hold over from all those times my daddy would watch old black and white movies about war. As bad as I hated those movies, I loved him at home. Since he was always working either at his job or on our farm, something was always having to be fixed; he was rarely in doors just watching TV.
May Day! was a distress signal…a call for help…but you knew it wouldn’t end well. It would always be such a stressful call for this poor guy who knew the end was near. Today I see it as a sign of summer, the beginning of the end of the school year, the end of my last child’s Freshman year.
How did this happen? He was just born wasn’t he? Our precious little family mascot, so to speak. He was the love of all our lives. When he was born he was nine years after the last one…..a definite caboose! Now we are enduring the end of course tests then final exams. This will be a busy month for him. May is the transition month.
This is the slow swing into the Summer. I will never forget the old saying….March winds a’ blowin’, April Showers bring May flowers! Someday when I too have succumb to great memory loss…(who am I kidding, I am already there!!) I will forever remember that saying. It is like the “It’s a Small World after all” song at Walt Disney World. Once you hear it…it is there for life.
This transition month is the safe time to plant flowers…usually no more harsh weather although, who knows these days. I love May Day! It is a day of freedom. Since I HATE, (yes I said HATE….in ALL CAPS!) Winter, the worst possible time of year, I am thrilled when we get to May Day! The first day of May…ahhhh! What a perfect day. Sunshine and green grass …..before the Sun has scorched away all the pretty vegetation. I know it will happen but, even though it is hot I still like it better than cold cruel winter.
So for this one day in May I will shout to the top of my lungs like a desperate radio operator about to perish....MAY DAY! MAY DAY! What a wonderful time of year! What is to some a sound of pure terror…..to me is is a call to enjoy! Can’t beat that!
Flower Whisperer
Today I found myself amazed once again by the ability of my Mom in the area of flower growing. My whole life she has had a green thumb. In reality I think she has green all the way to her elbows! She is the flower whisperer!
I have to admit I have always been jealous of her for this one, it appears she doesn’t even try….not even the look of wonder on her face! Will they grow….will each one of those seeds actually bloom? Never a question in her mind……HOW DOES SHE DO IT?!!!!!
So annoying! I have killed more plants than she has grown….yet I keep on trying, every year, over and over. Only to see a few of them actually survive. I think one clue is patience….which pretty much explains it. This is the missing gene in me and the same reason I can not keep from burning cookies and bread in the oven. I walk away, impatient….ugh!
Working in her garden is like her Zen, her place of peace. Pulling weeds, planting rose bushes, Marigolds and zinnias all of which grow bountifully. This is her special joy and at this time in her life when her thoughts are fleeting as soon as she thinks them, this gardening is still with her feeding her soul.
Thanks for the heritage you are leaving me, I too adore flowers and I never think it a waste to buy fresh-cut flowers for someone. Maybe she will leave this gift to me, somehow the gene I was born without may stir up in me. And maybe that flower whisperer power will jump on me. I fear it won’t though since my oldest sister seems to have gotten it! Bummer!
Flower Whisperer

Today I found myself amazed once again by the ability of my Mom in the area of flower growing. My whole life she has had a green thumb. In reality I think she has green all the way to her elbows! She IS the flower whisperer!
I have to admit I have always been jealous of her for this one, it appears she doesn’t even try….not even the look of wonder on her face! Will they grow?….will each one of those seeds actually bloom? Never a question in her mind……HOW DOES SHE DO IT?!!!!!
So annoying! I have killed more plants than she has grown….yet I keep on trying, every year, over and over. To see only a few of them actually survive. I think one clue is patience….which pretty much explains it. This is the missing gene in me and the same reason I can not keep from burning cookies and bread in the oven. I walk away, get bored. My children are the ones who bake cookies, they don’t even want me to try!
Working in her flowers is like my Mom’s peace, she loves her time in her yard and proof is in the puddin’ so to speak. She can simply drop a few seeds in the ground and poof! Beautiful every time versus ME! Just like I watch her make chicken and dumplins’, a southern staple, looks easy enough but, NO I am unable to do it! She has the touch!
She doesn’t cook much anymore, gone are the days of homemade chocolate pies, dumplings and biscuits. But she still has her gardening. Though her mind has bailed on her, the very thoughts are fleeting as soon as she thinks them but there she is pulling weeds and planting Zenias, marigolds and rose bushes that will be pretty as a picture every time.
This gives her joy and that is a good thing, that flower whisperer Momma of mine!
Berry Good
While shopping the other day at my local grocery……that cute little corner market with the select fruits and vegetables and baskets of Daisies out front….,me in my high heels and pearls…strolling down the aisles …white gloves and perfectly coiffed hair………oops sorry, I fell into a dream sequence there! Back to real life! Anyways back to the point… With my worst jeans on and the chewed on the toe ( by our crazy dawg!)clogs that I can’t bear to give up……. I spied a new batch of strawberries. After a closer look I saw that they were from Florida which I have it on great reference that they are the best. It took me immediately to one of my bazillion phone conversations with my friend and sister, Ramona and her emphatic argument that only the strawberries from Florida are even worth eating…… “all the others from California are so pithy!” and after my questioning wether or not “pithy” was even a real word?….I finally gave in to her strong belief that they were the best. Her opinions on such random things were always confronted by me ….who would oppose her only to enjoy the debate, a daily conquest for one of us which became common for two such good friends…the volley back and forth was how we rolled…strong women as we both are, never allowing each other to win gracefully, but with total denial of the others wisdom, sparing was a way of life. Life that made for a strong bond and one that is sorely missed by me, left behind without friend or foe to banter with. Funny how that is, living without someone who has been such a part of ones life. It is a mystery….life as well as death, and I can
only make peace with it because of my strong faith in my God. Everything that lived will eventually die, that’s the reason we have to make use of the time we have….say the words we are too prideful to say, hug and be hugged, bankrupt our hearts on the things that matter, have no regrets of a life yet lived and only eat the good berries, anything else is just pithy!
The Thrill and lil Sis !!!
HERO
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2011
HERO
How do you measure the life of a man?
Is it by the great wealth that he managed to accumulate or the land or homes or vehicles?
Is it by his position in business or his standing in the community?
The only way any man can be measured is by the fruit of his labor, the life he has lived on this earth and the lives that were changed by his love and the only real definition of success is how he was loved. This world is filled with complaints and negative thoughts that ride on the back of negative people. You can’t throw a rock without hitting someone who is complaining about something, no matter how trivial, we continue to be bothered and letting anyone who may be in our path know of our great plight in life.
I must admit I am the first whiner that I can think of. Honestly, I get sick of my own self, some days. I spend precious moments attempting to figure out why the world seems to pick on little old me! Good grief! Get over it! Come to find out, as I have grown very much older and wiser (well, the jury is still out on that one) It’s not all about me….as hard to believe as that is, I am not the center of the universe. How’d that happen? I never got the memo….was there a meeting, was there a quorum?
Did we vote? Yep they voted and I lost…..shocking how that happens.
Well actually not so much, I humbly say I have always known it wasn’t all about me. I am thankful I wasn’t given that burden to carry by my parents. But I know now that it is all about one person, that was on this earth for only thirty three short years, who gave it all so that we might have life everlasting and I have watched that same sacrifice and humility play out in the life of a man who without any fan fair or parade, lived everyday like it was his last. I have never known anyone that lived so completely complain free, even when he struggled for every breath in his last days on this earth. He would always have a smile and a kind word for anyone he met. He encouraged every person he knew and on those few occasions when I dared to be a complainer in front of him, he would say…..”ahh Rosa (he called me that from the first time I met him!)the Lord will help you, just stay close to him. Augh!
Why did he always have to hit me with that one, seriously!! does it always go back to that? can I not have five minutes of feeling sorry for myself. Does he even remember that I am married to his son and gave him four( I outta get the prize) grandkids and am a preachers wife and and…and….NOPE!
Stopped in my tracks with the harsh reality of Jesus suffering an awful punishment just so I can stand here and whine about, in my overly dramatic fashion, my bad day. This man who never complains about anything…ever… stands there and basically strips me down to myself and reminds me …it’s not the end of the world.
This guy I speak of is probably the sweetest and kindest gentleman anyone who reads this would ever know. Thirty years ago, I met a boy who had a father who from the first time I met him, made me one of his own. Without any question or judgement or hesitation, he welcomed me into his family and gave me a name. I was a part of him and not one time did I ever NOT feel accepted by him. I was never an “in-law”, I was a daughter and isn’t that just like Jesus.
This man is Curtis Fritts and he breathed his last breath holding the hand of his beloved wife and his one and only grand daughter, Bethany….his son and my only precious daughter. I know she will never forget the honor of being there with him, she saw the best man in this world enter into his reward for a life lived fully and without any reservation for where he was going.
As he took that last breath, he left behind all the pain of this world….not that we ever heard him complain about it!
Thank you Dad for loving us all. There is your measuring stick…..they will know HIM by our great love. Amen!
Posted by Rosemary Mcknight Fritts at 2:38 AM
One of our own

One Of Our Own


seemed like forever.
Oh Christmas Tree!
bar none!!!



