Past, present & plans: 9-30-16

Past, present & plans 9-30-16




My brother, George, and I used to play Cowboy and Indians, but on the farm we were able to use a real horse. The Indian was always on the horse and he would get shot off by the cowboy all the time. We had to be careful though, not to dive off the horse and onto a tobacco stalk. Each of us did that a couple of times and it never felt good.


We also had vines hanging from the trees in our woods, so we would swing on the vines pretending to be Tarzan. That was a lot of fun.


One time we picked up some tobacco ground leaves and took them to our hiding spot. While in there we rolled the leaves into a cigar and lit it up. After a draw each, we decided that we didn’t want to do that anymore. Maybe, if we had been smokers and needed a cigarette bad, it would have tasted better; but, this was terrible.




My buddy, Raymond, and I went to the Clark Senior Center today and had a great time. Raymond is very knowledgeable in a lot of areas and I try to be a little funny, so between us we tend to attract some really nice people.


Raymond next to his grand father’s gravesite at, “Arlington National Cemetery”.

We decided we’ll go back to the center and take advantage of the fun they have scheduled for us. If you’re sixty or older you can join for free in less than ten minutes; and, a lot of the activities are free also. It’s a very worth while organization.




Next week Raymond and I are going down to Georgia to visit some of his kin folk. We always seem to enjoy ourselves there. Two of the guest bloggers for, “From my Head to Yours” live down there. It will be good to see and hug them again.


Gwyn Dooley and I, a couple of years ago. Gwyn is the Author of, “The Little Shoot” in my blog, “From my Head to Yours”.


Your three words, my little story: Bob’s words

Your three words, my little story
Bob’s words: duty, honor & country


Note: this is a true story based on my family and I am Mack. The fictitious town, Sloan, was given birth deep inside the creative crevice of my mind and continues to grow.


George lives in Sloan and never visited another COUNTRY, or for that matter, never moved out of state. His dream was to go to Italy and push on the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Everyone wants to straighten the tower; he wanted to push it over.


He loved the fact that his dad gave twenty years of his life to the Army and he felt it was his DUTY to do the same. When he signed up for the draft, they classified him as 4-H, that means he was not eligible for any military service. He had high arches and studies showed that flat feet or extremely high arches were a great risk of injury.


George’s brother, Mack, had two preteen sons, Jamie and Billy. Their mother left years ago and he was raising them, but not by himself. Mack, George and their mom Margaret raised the boys together.


George drank, but not as much as Mack. So when Mack was at the bar, George was with the kids, either, at their family farm or at Mack’s place. George had bedrooms at both places, which made it convenient for him to either drink at Mack’s place or help his mom with her needs.


Helping raise his nephews gave George a sense of HONOR that he wanted badly. He felt being a 4-H robbed him of the life he wanted to live.


From left to right, Jamie, me and Billy. Taken in ’93 or close to it.

Guest blog: Gwyn Dooley’s poem, The Little Shoot

I would like to introduce a good friend of mine, Gwyn Dooley, from Georgia. She will join our, Guest Bloggers and hopefully bring us more of her writings from time to time.


Gwyn Dooley


In the garden of the Lord, I stand, an ancient, gnarled tree
I am not fair to look upon but the Lord delights in me
I was just a tiny, little seed when my life first began
So full of hope and promise, tucked safely in God’s Hand
Until one day He dropped me into the loamy earth
And stood by calmly waiting, until it gave me birth
I sprang forth green and tender, just a tiny, fearful shoot
To whom the Father whispered, “Someday you’ll bear much fruit!”
So, under the Father’s watchful gaze I grew up, stout and strong
And thrived beneath the loving sun when summer days were long
I lifted high my branches for all the world to see
I thought the Lord would notice and be so proud of me
But much to my dismay, He cut my fragile stem
And pruned back my long branches and thinned my wayward limbs
I cried, “Be gentle, Savior! I’m just a tiny, little shoot!”
My Father whispered softly, “Someday you’ll bear much fruit!”
As the summer came and went, I feared the autumn winds
That swirled and moaned around me, my branches sway and bend
But I did not snap or break but grew stronger with each puff
It hardened me for winters, when the icy winds were gruff
And so after many seasons, in all kinds of rugged weather
My limbs grew knotty and twisted, my bark as tough as leather
I hung my head when God walked by and looked upon my frame
I could not bear to see His Face, I felt such bitter shame
Oh, what a sorry sight I was, no more that tender shoot
To whom the Father whispered, “Someday you’ll bear much fruit!”
But much to my surprise, I heard Him say with glee
“You’re just exactly what I’d planned my little shoot to be!
For many birds do perch upon your limbs and rest
And feed upon your berries and build their tiny nests!
I AM so pleased with you, My tender, little shoot!
I always knew one day that you would bear much fruit!”

by: Gwyn Dooley


Taken from Port Tobacco Marina, Maryland

For as the earth bringeth forth her bud and as the garden causeth the things that are sown in it to spring forth; so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring forth before all nation.
Isaiah 61:11

Your three words, my little story: Debbie’s words

Note: these words are from my sister and I want the world to know, I love her very much.


Your three words, my little story
Debbie’s words: mountains, blue birds & roses



Debbie was coasting down the foot hills of the Blue Ridge MOUNTAINS, while heading home to see her mom. All of a sudden her right front tire blew out and she saw herself and her car heading towards the woods. Thankfully, she was able to hold on for dear life and guide it to a clearing off the road to her right.


She was probably still several hundred feet up the mountain, she came to a stop at a scenic overlook. It was called Dogwood Valley, because the valley had hundreds of dogwood trees and they were aligned with several different species of fragrant honeysuckles. Added to the mix were an abundance of climbing ROSES that wrapped around an assortment of flowering trees.


The beautiful foliage attracted much wildlife, including eastern BLUE BIRDS recognized by their rust colored breast. They were seen flying in and out of the bountiful fruit trees. This was an absolutely gorgeous spot to have a flat.


Margaret, lived off of route 77, just past Bug’s Pond north east of Sloan. Margaret had been talking about a man she met months ago at the park and Debbie couldn’t wait to meet him. So she took some pictures, changed the tire and got back on the road.


Meet the Author: Mary Ann Jenkins

Meet the Author: Mary Ann Jenkins


My friend, Matt, and I met in a Creative Writing course at College of Southern Maryland (CSM). We are both trying to become writers. He’s writing his autobiography and I’m writing a novel and a small blog of short stories. In class I use to say when I become a writer….. Our Professor asked me, “Are you writing?”


I said, “Yes mam.”


She replied, “Then you’re a writer.” We might be writing every day, but we both know we have a lot to learn, so we go to as many free writing courses and book signings as we can. I can afford free!


I had the pleasure to attend a, “Meet the Author”, event on September 6th 2016. It was coordinated by the Jaycees Senior Center in Waldorf, MD. When we walked into the building; almost immediately to our left was a sign in sheet in front of a large open area. On the far wall of the space was where the event was held. Sixteen people were already seated and Matt and I made it eighteen.


Mary talked of her childhood for about five minutes; she mentioned that her family was poor and they couldn’t afford a crib. Her first bed was the bottom drawer in her parent’s dresser. She joked about, “I believe they closed the drawer sometimes.” We laughed, then she said, “Try to write about what you know. “ She moved onto her married life and said, “We had a good relationship and we enjoyed our life together, but one morning I woke up and he didn’t.” She said that kind of matter of factly. She told us she worked for a podiatrist, then for the government as a proof reader. Proof reading helped her in the grammar and punctuation aspect of her novels so she didn’t have to pay the extra six hundred dollars for editing.


Her first novel was a collaboration with her friend Mary Ann Enslow. Sadly her friend didn’t live long enough to see the fictional publication of their book; “The Cardboard Box”, in October of 2009. Their novel is about a young assistant editor, living with her uncle Charlie in New York. When he died, he left her a house in Georgia that she knew nothing of. She questioned why he never told her about the house, but she moves there anyway. She finds love while strengthening her Christianity from a cardboard box.


Mary Ann’s second novel is called, “The Witches Journal.” Sadie Fergusson leaves London and her father, in the 1800’s, to start a new laugh in America. She knew her journey held unknown risks, but she has faith that God will carry her through. Her third novel, “The Journal Reopened” is a sequel to, “The Witches Journal.” All of her novels are good easy reading.


She explained her experience of self-publishing and the cost of a quantity her novels sold directly to her. She told us, “I have more control of the resale price of my books, when I sell them from my own stock. Amazon sells them at a much higher price.” Tate Publishing, is a Christian base company and that’s one of the determining factors that influenced her decision to go with them on her second and third novels. I thoroughly enjoyed the day.