Dueling Sisters

By Katie Moak

This is a flip book where two sisters prove the pen is mightier than the sword.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Sep 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781458204875

Katie Moak

Katie Moak is very proud of this work.  She feels that it teaches valuable lessons to children and anyone who reads it.

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Katie Moak and Louise Jetton.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ISBN: 978-1-4582-0486-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-0487-5 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-0488-2 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012912356

Abbott Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

Abbott Press

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.abbottpress.com

Phone: [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Abbott Press rev. date: 09/07/12

Contents

The Tales of Louise Jetton

Dedication Page

Foreword

Author Bio

A Tribute to Mama

Beware: Bad Goose

Daddy’s Sunday Morning Trick

Devotions of a Big Sister

Do You Hunt?

Drawing Names

Guinea-Cat Wonder

Hit and Run

In the Name of Friendship

Is There a Doctor in the House?

Lost in the Woods

Mama and the Preacher

Ode to the Bull

Old Banty

Our Christmas Baby

Reviving the Spirit of Christmas

Riding in a Ford V-8

Thanksgiving Blessings

The Art of Forgiving

The Case of the Missing Bananas

The Day I Fell From Grace

The Forgotten Coffeepot

The Forks of the Road

The Great Chase

The Sunday Dinner Fiasco

The White Dress

Unforgiving Waters

What’s For Breakfast?

The Tale of Louise Jetton’s Grandchild

Twisting, Twisting, Twisting

The Tales of Louise Jetton

Dedication Page

A special dedication to the memory of our parents, Brown and Carrie Wilson.

I wish to express my appreciation to my sister, Katie, and to the Sabine-Neches Writer’s Guild. The guild members have been a source of inspiration to me over the years and their encouragement has kept me writing.

James David, thank you so much for taking time to do the computer things for us. Ariana, your afternoon photo shoot for us will long be remembered. It was such fun and your photography skills are remarkable. Many thanks.

John, Sara, Daniel, Brian, and Kenzi—my love and devotion to each of you for the pleasure you bring to me.

Finally, to a certain helicopter pilot, Martin Jetton, who happens to be my husband of sixty years; thanks and my love for your support and encouragement.

L.J.

Foreword

These two sisters traveled and lived all over the world for many years as military wives. At last, they have reunited here in Southeast Texas to prove that the pen really is mightier than the sword. They duel with each other every day; when one throws down a gauntlet, the other picks it up on the tip of her pen, and the battle is on. Thus, this book and its title came into being. But do not let the tough talk fool you. They are each the other’s biggest fan. Even the grandchildren know that they have been placed in the arsenal of weapons of their respective grandmothers, all in the spirit of fun and friendly competition.

Author Bio

Louise Jetton was born third in line to Brown and Carrie Wilson. The family lived in the Sabine River bottom in rural Southeast Texas, and because of poverty and isolation, the children had to entertain themselves. Louise was born during the great depression. She has vivid memories of hunger and deprivation, so of course, there were no books. She would entertain siblings, cousins, cats and dogs with her stories, making them up as she talked. Over the years, the family grew to include eight children, so big sister had lots of practice at story-telling.

At the age of ten, Louise succeeded in having a few poems and stories printed in a publication called Farm and Ranch. The column was called Cousins’ League. She also found many pen pals, from diverse places in the world. She always had a great love of books, and vowed to someday have her name on one or more, as the author.

This hasn’t happened yet, so perhaps I will be like Grandma Moses, she said.

Louise earned a B.S. Degree, and then a Masters Degree in early childhood education. She went on to teach in many different locations for a total of thirty-four years. She still misses it.

She was married in 1952 to Martin Jetton, who was in the army. Military life afforded her opportunities to see places and meet people she would never have had in Southeast Texas. She and Martin have three children. Their son, Art, has his own construction company; daughter Vlynn Reed is a Registered Nurse, and daughter Linda is an elementary school teacher. They have four grandchildren, three boys and one girl. Last but not least is a great-granddaughter, Kenzie, who is three years old, and an endless source of pleasure.

A Tribute to Mama

Louise Jetton

On December 26, 1910 in Sabine Parish, Louisiana, a baby girl was born to Willie Dell and Epsie Miller Huff. The baby was given the name of Carrie Molissie. When the little girl was ten years old, her mother died. At the age of seventeen, Carrie became the wife of Brown Wilson. They raised a family of eight children. I was their third child.

Mama was multi-talented! She could harness up the old gray mule to the turning plow and work the field. She could help Daddy make staves. They would each have an end of the crosscut saw and lay a huge white oak tree on the ground. With the ax and iron wedges, they would split lengths of the log into staves to be sold. Mama could throw the gun up to her shoulder and bring a squirrel to the ground even if he was running wide open. Not only would she bag a deer as easily, but needed no assistance in dressing and cutting it up to feed her family. Nothing was ever wasted. She tanned the deer hides and used them for the bottoms of chairs she had made from Hickory wood. She tanned cow hides and had a unique way of removing the hair. She split boot laces from the hides. More than once, she tanned a rattlesnake hide and made a belt for a fellow. Mama picked blackberries and muscadines for jelly and also for making wine. The wine was for medicinal purposes; upset stomachs, etc.

Sewing was fun for Mama. She said it relaxed her. She made all our clothes. She could take a bag of hand-me-down clothes and do wonders with it. Later, when we bought cow feed in lovely print sacks, we had clothes made from them. When I was nine years old, a Saturday night possum hunt produced a coal black critter and underneath his fur, was snow white. Mama skinned him and tanned the hide. Someone had given her some gray wool material and she made me a coat. The possum hide made the collar and cuffs. It was beautiful! When I outgrew the coat, it was passed down the line.

Mama gained lots of experience at delivering babies. She and one of her sisters were alone except their three little boys, when my cousin decided to arrive early. I guess Mama did a fine job for they named the baby Carrie for her. Later, when I was three years old, Mama delivered brother Jack all by herself. He weighed ten pounds, according to Daddy’s cotton scales. She often assisted Dr. McCreight with birthing those babies. The same for the dying. More than once, she would wake me in the middle of the night and tell me to get breakfast for the family and fix Daddy’s lunch, also all the school lunches. She would tell me someone had sent for her, they were dying and wanted her there. I got into trouble once when I asked her why couldn’t they die without her assistance. I never made that mistake again.

During the Depression, Daddy didn’t have any tobacco so Mama borrowed a seed catalog from someone and managed to get fifteen cents somehow and ordered tobacco seed. They sold it by the thimble full. She ordered only one. She grew a beautiful crop and hung the leaves in the smokehouse and smoked it; then she twisted it into long twists. Daddy enjoyed chewing this to satisfy his tobacco habit.

Yes, I do believe Mama had eyes in the back of her head, and woe be unto you if you ever dared to lie to her. She would head you off at the pass and say, Start over, and this time, I want the truth!

In Mama’s later years, she cut and fashioned a pattern for old-time sun bonnets and sold them in front of her house. She became known as the Bonnet Lady. She loved to keep track of how many she’d made and sold. The last time she told me, the count was fifty-six hundred and after that she quit counting. She also raised parakeets for several years and enjoyed them immensely. She had two birdhouses with eight hundred birds in each house. She did a thriving business with them.

In August of 2002, Miss Carrie decided at ninety-two years old, to go to the nursing home. She will be ninety-six years old this December. She still has eight children, twenty-four grandchildren, thirty-nine great grandchildren, and four great, great grandchildren.

Long live Miss Carrie, one of a kind, a dying breed (no pun intended). Happy Mothers’ Day, Mama, and thank you for all the years! I love you!

Beware: Bad Goose

Louise Jetton

Our mother goose was setting on her eggs which were due to hatch any day, when a hungry fox found the nest. He not only had our goose for lunch, but ate the eggs also. When I found the nest, there was only one egg left. So I took it and placed it in a shoebox with a heat lamp to see if I could give the remaining gosling a chance. Little did I realize what a situation I was creating!

I could hear the baby goose sounding off. He was ready to break free of that shell. I hovered nearby and watched, just in case the baby needed help. It soon became evident he wasn’t strong enough to break out by himself, so I helped. You guessed it! My face was the first thing the little fellow saw. Thus, it was settled in his mind. I was MAMA! I named him Jeffery and for the next few days I devoted much of my time to this baby goose. He stayed right at my heels and if I got too far ahead, he would run to catch up and was truly happy if I scooped him up in my arms. He was a yellow ball of fuzz and would nuzzle my cheek with his little beak as though he truly was expressing love for his Mama.

When Jeffery was seven days old, I felt the time had come to introduce him to his relatives and get them to adopt this orphan. I took him to the goose pond and gave him a nudge towards the water. He swam for a brief moment, then spied a gaggle of geese swimming toward him. He was terrified and clamored for the safe haven of my arms. The geese surrounded me as though they were demanding the baby be put in their care. I put him on the ground and they were gentle, sweet, and very protective of him but he was not having any of their nonsense! He wanted his mama. I started walking away and Jeffrey darted under and between legs and wings; rushing to catch me, begging to be picked up. I couldn’t resist and scooped him up and hugged him. His little heart was pounding so hard, I feared he would die of fright.

This went on for days and when I tossed him in the pond, he always beat me back to the house. He clearly preferred my company to his own kind. All this time, Jeffery was growing by leaps and bounds. Each time I started to go somewhere he would appear instantly to tell me goodbye and would insist on being picked up, nuzzle my cheek with his beak; all the while softly speaking in goose talk. I would