Just Between You and Me: Volume Iv

By Evelyn McCollum

Many of the columns in this volume are about my ordeal with cancer surgery, chemotherapy and radiation treatments. I have been told over and over how much sharing my experience has meant to othersnot only cancer patients themselves, but also loved ones and friendsthis insidious disease affects a wide circle.

On a lighter note, I write about memories, food, my hang-ups, our trips, and dumb things I have done. Some of the columns are inspirational while others are humorous and some are informative. I hope that you will enjoy reading them, whatever the subject.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 29, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462811458

Evelyn McCollum

In addition to writing freelance, I have worked as a bookkeeper, a journalist, a librarian, a church secretary, a sales clerk and payroll clerk, and as Lifestyle Editor of The Easley Progress. Because I chose to stay home with my children, my entire full-time working career lasted only twelve years; my other jobs were part-time. However, writing has always been my passion. My hobbies are growing plants, both inside and out, cooking, trying new recipes, reading, traveling, exercising and spending time with family and friends. My husband Marion and I have three married children and eight grandchildren, ranging in age from twenty-four to one year. Being with them is my greatest joy.

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Copyright © 2009 by Evelyn McCollum.

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Contents

Introduction

Our experience with the Big Ice Storm of ’05

The rest of the story about the ice storm

Not exercising in early morning creates a dilemma

I’m still trying to learn how to make hot tea

Suggestions on how to prepare for the next storm

I love to write about these Southern words

Our experience at the ’92 Winter Olympics

Gift of marmalade brings back a host of memories

I hope you’ll try two of my favorite recipes

Everything you ever wanted to know about men’s hats

Recently I had a very bad day

I’m urging you to get a life-saving test

My experience in reading the Bible through

We finally made it to historic Hagood Mill

They don’t make chickens like they used to

A hodgepodge of memories, thoughts and opinions

Hints and suggestions to improve our memories

Everything you ever wanted to know about green tea

More home remedies, both practical and amusing

Foods you can enjoy without fear of gaining weight

Learning how to pack makes traveling easier

How many of these words and expressions do you remember?

A report of our most recent trip

Trip to Columbia brings back memories

Unusual things that have happened to me on trips

A few facts about Arlington House, the Robert E. Lee Memorial

What do you do with your pictures?

Everything you ever wanted to know about Appomattox

Let me count the ways that I love the summer days

What kind of learner are you?

You’ll be smarter after reading this column

Some dumb things I have done

I confess; I don’t like air conditioning in my home

Sharing recipes and tips on two yummy cakes

The Nalleys gather again for a reunion

Where did the trans fat go?

English as spoken by the British

Visiting the Eisenhower home in Gettysburg

Don’t touch my scissors!

Eating these foods will make us healthier

Southern Wesleyan University celebrates one hundred years

Sometimes life throws you a curve

Recipes for dishes mentioned in my Ten-Foods column

This year we are experiencing outstanding fall weather

Sometimes a positive attitude can get you into trouble

Pay attention to those vague symptoms

The right food arrives at the right time

Excerpts from my Gratitude Journal

Remembering some Christmases from my childhood

I used to be disgustingly healthy

More curves on the road to recovery

We should pay more attention to living for today

A positive update on my condition

I’m learning lots from my new cookbook

I need instruction on how to use an umbrella

Chemo and its effect on me

These are a few of my favorite things

Having no hair has its advantages

Are products harder to open, or is it just me?

Remembering my days at Fedder’s Fashion Shop

You can’t fool me on these dates

A story about blueberries

When will food taste good to me again?

What is that beeping over my head?

Chest pain causes a scare

A short history on women wearing pants

I keep trying to live up to Mama’s expectations for me

Do we really need to keep all that stuff?

My experience with radiation

I’m in my ninth recovery

My! How life has changed for me these last eight months

Remembering OTC medicines of days gone by

What I have learned through my ordeal

Living with an irritating houseplant

Finally, good news to report

I believe I’ve finally made it

My experience with caladiums

Reporting on responses to columns

Grandchildren are so much fun

How to get along with your spouse

Think you know everything?

I’ve finally had to start wearing my glasses

My experience as a Reunion Coordinator

Did you know there are rules to doing laundry?

A hodgepodge of thoughts and ideas

Eating together as a family is important

Two of my favorite soup recipes

Our trip to New England

What brought you joy today?

Observations made on our trip to New England

Mark Twain’s house is unusual, to say the least

I’m thankful I’m not where I was a year ago

We ate a variety of food on our trip

My observations of Vermont and Maine

See if you agree with these Laws of Life

Belated thoughts of Thanksgiving

Seeing Plymouth Rock and the Mayflower

Remembering Christmas, past and present

The Thirteen Days of December

Dedicated to Nate, Martha, Van, Sam and David

Introduction

This is the fourth volume of my Just Between You and Me columns; these were published in The Easley Progress in 2006-07. Volume I is made up of the columns I wrote for a short time in 1980 for The Pickens Sentinel and in 1986-87 for the Progress. Volume II contains columns I wrote for the Progress in 2001 and 2003. Volume III consists of columns published in the Progress in 2004-05.

Readers ask me where my ideas come from and how I come up with something different each week. I am always listening, reading, looking for a subject. My children say I go around with my antennae out all the time. Newspapers are a valuable source, as is the Internet (a cousin keeps me supplied with interesting tidbits). One column about Southern lingo came from a paper placemat in a restaurant. Another was inspired by a cross-stitch hanging in a friend’s home.

Writers write because they have to. If someone reads what they have written, that’s good. If the piece is published so that a larger audience has access to it, that’s better. If the pieces are collected in book form, that’s the best yet. Long ago I read that a writer noted with disdain that her words printed in a newspaper were used to line birdcages and/or to wrap garbage. Now that my words are collected in a book, hopefully they will be treated with more respect and not be disposed of so easily. For that I am thankful.

I pray that my words will encourage, inspire, inform, motivate, make you think and maybe even laugh.

Our experience with the

Big Ice Storm of ’05

January 4, 2006

On Thursday morning, December 15, the power kept going off then coming back on. I lay in bed, listening to ice hit the skylight in the stairwell, savoring those last few minutes. I was annoyed by the voice in the answering machine on my wall phone in the kitchen continually telling me how to reset it. Finally the voice stopped about seven-thirty a.m. (this is important to the story) and I dozed off again.

When I woke for the day—normally I don’t stay in bed this long—I knew the power was off, but I also knew that I could weigh because my doctor’s scale is not electric. What I had not anticipated was that I couldn’t read the numbers because I couldn’t turn on the light in the utility room. However, when the weight balanced itself, I knew that I had not gained any weight the previous day. (Beginning with Thanksgiving I have eaten entirely too much.)

At this point I knew that if I turned the thermostat up, nothing would happen. I was not always this alert at other times during the blackout. I planned to dress in my warmest sweatsuit made of heavy knit with a tunic top. My younger son Nate calls it my Pocahontas suit. I wear this outfit when it snows or when our city is iced over. Entering my walk-in closet, I thought I could find the suit by feeling the fabric. No luck. I went back downstairs and got the flashlight, breathing a prayer of thanks that it worked. Boys and flashlights don’t go together, and we never had a working flashlight while our boys were home. Now I would much prefer boys over flashlights, but life goes on.

Typically the next thing I would do after dressing is go downstairs and either ride my bicycle or walk on my treadmill. I could ride my bicycle without power, but I couldn’t watch my Homecoming videos which keep me entertained, so I vetoed that idea. (I did manage to ride ten minutes later in the day in dim light; our basement has only two small windows. Ten minutes was all I could manage without distraction.)

Marion called from his morning meeting at Joe’s to say that he was going to breakfast with some of the guys and asked if he could bring me anything. The only thing I wanted was a cup of hot water, but I knew that by the time he got home it would be cold, so I just said, No. When he got home, he heated water for me on the eye of our gas grill, so I had my hot tea with a cold English muffin. He lit the gas logs; we stayed in the great room most of the day, dressed in our warm clothing, which includes wool socks, so we managed to keep warm.

He got the bright idea to put the small, round wrought iron table that usually stays on the porch over the gas logs, creating a makeshift stove. For lunch I warmed a can of clam chowder and toasted pimento cheese sandwiches (leftover from our neighborhood party) in a flat iron skillet. For supper we had chili and beans. I put a container of frozen homemade chili and a container of frozen tomatoes in a pot on our improvised stove. After this had thawed and warmed, I added a can of red kidney beans and a can of mixed beans—pinto and white. (I would have used a can of pinto beans instead of mixed but I didn’t have one.) We had cheese and crackers with our soup—a delicious meal. For breakfast the next morning we ate cold cereal and another cold English muffin with hot tea, so we managed okay with our meals.

In addition to our gas logs, we were also thankful for a gas water heater. Marion showered early in the afternoon and urged me to do so while we still had daylight. I was too lazy to take off all those clothes and put them back on, so I waited until bedtime when I showered by candlelight—that’s a first. Because Marion has a morbid fear of fire, he doesn’t allow me to burn candles very often, so I had a field day. We burned candles in the great room, in the kitchen, in the bedroom, in the bathroom, and we ate supper by candlelight. We have several lanterns and lamps in the basement, but he didn’t want to use them, saying they would smoke up the house, so I savored living by candlelight.

We talked on the phone a lot—both calling and receiving calls from family and friends. One person who called said, Oh, you have one of those old fashioned phones. As a matter of fact, I have five of those old fashioned phones; the only one we couldn’t use is our cordless, so we managed to stay in touch with loved ones.

Late in the afternoon, Marion was lying in the floor with his feet close to the gas logs. I lay on the couch covered with my Twelve Days of Christmas throw, gazing at the ceiling fan. I asked, Wouldn’t the heat circulate better if the fan were turned on? Marion replied that it certainly would. Before I could get to the wall switch, he started laughing. It’s amazing how many things one can’t do without electricity.

That night, just to be on the safe side, I put the pants of my thermal underwear on top in a drawer so I could reach for them in the dark if I needed them. However, we slept comfortably under our Polartec blanket and down comforter, so we managed to stay warm during the night.

I’m not finished telling how we coped with The Big Ice Storm of ’05 so I’ll share the rest of the story next week.

The rest of the story about the ice storm

January 11, 2006

This week I’m continuing my story of how we coped with the ice storm. First of all I want to say that, because of the weatherman’s less than perfect record, I didn’t really believe the storm was coming. I was shocked when I woke that morning to a winter wonderland. Since I was safe and warm (at that time), I could look out each window and enjoy the beauty of the ice covered trees and shrubs.

Then the trees started falling. I watched every tree fall within sight of our house. The first warning was a popping sound when the trunk succumbed to the weight of the ice, followed by a swishing sound as the ice-laden tree hit the ground. The first I saw fall, outside my bedroom window, was the crepe myrtle in the Griggs’ yard. As a matter of fact, it broke in two places, with trunks falling in opposite directions.

Soon after, while looking out my breakfast room window, I saw two pine trees fall in quick succession, also going in opposite directions. The next to go was a tall wild cherry that had grown crooked, fortunately, away from our house. From my chaise in my study, I heard another crash and thought it was the crepe myrtle near our front door. Instead, it was one of the redbuds at the end of the carport. Thankfully, our Japanese maple held firm.

Though I didn’t see it happen, one of Marion’s prized rhododendrons split. Also, limbs from black cherry and sweet gum trees scattered all over the yard. I’m grateful that nothing fell across our driveway. The most interesting phenomenon was the two almost thirty-foot tall hickory trees about four inches in diameter; they bent double—almost touching the ground—but didn’t break. (If I were a poet, here’s a great idea for a poem.)

We were away from home most of Friday; weeks ago we had made plans to attend a concert at the Newberry Opera House. We went with the Friendship Club of our church (First Baptist) to hear The Three Tenors. It was a fantastic show, and The Three Divas were just as good as the tenors. The opera house is an old building that has been refurbished; it was a wonderful setting for a wonderful show. That morning, while we scurried around getting dressed and eating breakfast, we didn’t have time to get cold. When we returned that night we had power, so we actually had only one day and night of pioneer living.

Late Saturday morning I saw a neighbor, Mary Bagwell, in the grocery store, and she said that the power in our neighborhood came back on about noon Friday, which means that we were without power for twenty-nine hours. (An aside: when I arrived at Ingles on 123 there were only two buggies inside the store—this was the most people I’ve ever seen in a grocery store. The weatherman was predicting more bad weather so everyone—including me—had to get milk and bread.)

Other people were not as lucky as we about the length of time they lost power. When I got back Saturday I had a message from Cheryl Hillman asking me if her Aunt Launa (Cramer) could come stay with me and I said, Of course; we’ll be glad to have her. Since my sister, Louise, had come from Rock Hill to go to the concert and was still with my sister, Bette, in Pendleton, I invited them to come for supper. I also invited Lila Newton.

Lila’s dad, Walt, and Launa’s grandfather, Elford, were Daddy’s brothers. Launa’s parents, Lawrence and Mettie, were some of my parents’ closest friends. When we were growing up, Launa and her sister Catherine and my sisters Bette and Louise were close friends, visiting back and forth, spending the night together. I was the little sister, but rather than wanting to tag along, I was such an insecure child that I didn’t want to leave Mama so I missed out on a lot during these years. We sisters and cousins had a party—black bean soup, chili and bean soup, cornbread, apple pie and ice cream. Launa spent two nights, leaving Monday morning (her power came back on Sunday night).

Our daughter Susan and her family were without power five nights and six days, but since they all were going in so many directions the only time they came for a meal was Sunday lunch. I fixed (a good Southern word) comfort food—a beef roast, rice and gravy, green beans, sweet potato soufflé, homemade biscuits and Jell-O with apples. Mama used to make orange Jell-O and add sliced apples. Since I had peach Jell-0 that I wanted to get rid of, I used it instead, thinking the peach taste wouldn’t be that powerful. Wrong. Don’t try this. But orange Jell-O with apples is tasty.

I decided on Jell-O because I’ve bought forty pounds of Rome apples (a ten-pound bag a week) this winter, and I thought I’d let them help me eat the apples before they ruined. I’ve finally figured out that the reason I can’t find my favorite apples—Winesap, Macintosh, and Rome—except during fall and winter is that these apples don’t keep well.

On Friday night we dropped Louise and Bette off in Pendleton. As we approached Easley on 123 we came upon a convoy of bucket trucks—eight in all—from Sumter. An official car led the way, followed by a pickup truck and the bucket trucks. We realized that these men were coming to our rescue, most likely after putting in a full day on their regular job. It was a thrilling sight—like the Cavalry appearing at the top of the hill, coming to rescue the settlers inside the circle of wagons.

With my light-hearted approach to this story, I don’t intend in any way to minimize the distress many people suffered due to the lack of electricity. I realize that we were some of the lucky ones, and I trust that my cheery attitude will help brighten you day.

Not exercising in early morning

creates a dilemma

January 18, 2006

When planning our class reunion a few years back, we were working with a hotel in Greenville. Things weren’t going well. Dr. Phil says there’s no such thing as truth, only perception of truth. My perception of this truth was that the hotel was stringing us along, and if a larger group with more money approached them, we would be cancelled in a heartbeat. Like I said, this was my perception, and possibly the truth was light years away. Anyway, Will McQueen talked to a staff member, and she came around to our way of thinking. We had the reunion—good atmosphere, good attendance, good food—some us had breakfast together—we had a great time. But while we were still in the planning stages, I said to Will, I don’t like this. Every time I read the contract, I find something else I’m supposed to do or not do.

Will had an easy solution. He said, Evelyn, stop reading the contract.

Recently I read something in the paper that has disrupted my life. Totally. Since I didn’t keep the paper I can’t quote it, but the gist of what I read is that one should never exercise on an empty stomach. Doing so burns carbs and protein, not fat, which defeats one of the purposes of exercising. The article suggested that we should exercise about an hour after eating.

I have always exercised on an empty stomach. Maybe that’s why, after over thirty plus years of exercising, I haven’t lost an ounce. In fact, I’ve gained a few pounds. When I find a new exercise program that looks interesting, I just pooh pooh the claim that I will lose both pounds and inches on this regime, because I never have. (Pooh is actually in the dictionary; it means to express disdain. One of the definitions of disdain is disregard, and that’s exactly what I do with the claims of weight loss—disregard them.)

Now I discover there’s a scientific reason for my problem. Let me explain why I exercise on an empty stomach—or did for so long a time. (I’m trying to change my ways.) I exercised first thing in the morning because I found that was the best time for me. Usually I drank a glass of milk before I exercised, but I’m sure that didn’t qualify as a meal after ten or eleven hours without nourishment. If I waited later in the day, something always came along to disrupt my schedule, and I never seemed to get back to exercising. Sometimes what disrupted my schedule was that I didn’t have the energy or drive to exercise later in the day. Had I exercised earlier, I wouldn’t have had this mid-morning or mid-afternoon slump. It’s a vicious cycle.

Another reason I exercised first thing in the morning was that I enjoyed it. I loved getting outside, especially in warm weather, just enjoying the beauty of our neighborhood, communing with nature, listening to the birds sing. In the past we walked early and then Marion went to Joe’s to be with his cronies, he’d come back about nine a.m. and we’d have breakfast. It worked for us—until I read that disturbing item in the paper.

Let me define exercise. I do aerobic exercise six days a week, sometimes seven. My aerobic is riding my stationary bicycle twenty minutes (I can cover four miles) or walking a twenty-minute mile on my treadmill, or walking a mile outside, which we try to cover in twenty minutes. On occasion, during extremely bad weather, we have gone to a builder’s supply house and walked our mile. The employees grin at us as we go by.

Then there’s my weight training. In the beginning I lifted weights while watching Oprah at four p.m. Without realizing it, I was on the right track. Now I try to lift my weights after lunch—an hour after lunch. I have several weight-training programs that I alternate, doing each one four weeks. Sometimes, if I’m going to be gone for the day, I do both aerobic and weight training during the same time period, but that’s not my favorite way to operate.

At first exercising after breakfast seemed impossible for me, but I’m working on it. I like to spend a minimum of three hours at my computer each morning. Since I am a morning person, I do my best work early in the day. The creative part of my brain shuts down at noon. My two priorities are writing my column and working on my Sunday school lesson. Then I spend time on other projects. In the last few years the big projects I’ve done are my play, my Nalley book, my cookbook, and the veteran’s book for our church. I also helped Lila Newton with her autobiography. My most recent project is a compilation of Mama’s diary, letters and other written material she kept through the years. I’m still trying to decide what to do with this manuscript.

As I said, I’m still trying to work out a new schedule. One thing I have tried is to eat breakfast as soon as I get up, and then set the timer for one hour. When it dings, I take a break and do my aerobic exercise. I can usually get in two more hours before lunch. But one morning since I tried my new plan, I was so engrossed in what I was doing at my computer that I let time slip by. When I got to a stopping place, I realized it was lunch time and if I exercised then, I would be exercising on an empty stomach!

You can see what a dilemma this has become. But I am a determined woman; I will keep experimenting until I find the best way to exercise on a full stomach and spend three hours a day on my writing.

I’m still trying to learn

how to make hot tea

January 25, 2006

Since I’ve become addicted to hot tea, I’m still searching for the best way to brew it. Everything I read says to place the tea bag(s) in a teapot, cover with boiling water and steep to taste. But the experts also say to rinse the teapot in hot water so that it will be warm. Right here I hit a snag with this method. I don’t know how, but when we built our house, we managed to place the hot water heater in a place that is not close to a single faucet in our entire house. It’s not close to the kitchen sink, it’s not close to the master bathroom, it’s not close to the powder room, and it’s not close to the upstairs bathroom.

Water has to run forever at any and all of these places before it even begins to get warm. Especially during cold weather, when I prepare to take a shower, I turn the hot water on full force and wait and wait and wait for it to get warm. I have time to tweeze my eyebrows while I’m waiting. Since this slow-hot-water-dilemma is a fact at my house, if I had to rinse the teapot with hot water before I brewed my tea, I would be out of the notion of having a cup before I got the pot rinsed. Patience is not one of my virtues.

As you may have noticed, if you are a regular reader, I love to experiment until I find the best way to do things, so I tried making tea in my coffee maker. The first time I put the tea bag in the basket where the coffee grounds go. I think the cardinal rule is that the tea bag should rest in the hot water to release the flavor. Therefore this was not a good way to brew tea, since water merely runs through the tea. I tried that a time or two before I discarded that idea.

Next I tried filling the coffee maker with water and putting the tea bags in the carafe. This works better and keeps the tea hot. The only problem with this method is that the water is not boiling, and I keep reading that water has to boil to get the full benefit of whatever it is in tea that is so good for us. I have to tell this on myself. One day I thought my tea had a strong coffee flavor. Then I discovered that I had left coffee grounds in the basket. Now I double and triple check to make sure the basket is clean before making tea in the coffee maker.

I found this neat little glass coffee/teapot that goes in the microwave—every part is either glass is plastic—no metal or screws anywhere. I’ve had it quite a while and could never figure out what to do with it. I’ve tried using it to make hot chocolate in the microwave and that works okay. Recently I’ve discovered that it’s perfect for making tea. I put tea bags and water in the pot and put it in the microwave. When the water starts to boil, I take it out and let the bags steep until it is ready to drink. The only problem with this method is that in the winter I make our oatmeal in the microwave, and I want the tea and the oatmeal ready at the same time, so I have to use my coffee maker.

On to eating out and traveling. For me the least acceptable way to make a cup of tea is to put the bag in a cup and cover with hot water, which is the way it is presented in most restaurants. Sometimes they bring you a pot of water, which is never hot enough to begin with, and the tea is always too cool when I drink it. Notice I said most restaurants. One cold, windy, stormy day we went to a restaurant that has good food but is not a place to dine; we go there to get our supper. We were seated near the door where the cold wind blew in every time the door opened. Since we had had a pretty long wait before being seated, we decided to stay there. I ordered hot tea. (This was before I really got into hot tea, but I wanted something hot and didn’t want coffee.) I nearly fell out when the waitress brought me a plastic pitcher half-filled with tea that had been brewed to serve as iced tea—then heated in the microwave!

I’ve had to come up with a method to make my tea away from home. Since riding a long time is my least favorite thing to do (in a car, bus, train, a plane—it doesn’t matter), Marion and I rarely travel alone. When we are staying in a house, usually there’s only one coffee pot and our fellow travelers prefer coffee. This is also a problem when we visit our sons Greg and Nate, who also prefer coffee over tea.

I could carry my small coffee pot or my microwave pot, but both are glass and I prefer to take something that won’t break. The first time I was in this situation, I took a thermos—but a thermos is not very pretty sitting on the breakfast table. I equate a thermos with being away from all the conveniences of home, so I wanted to find something that looked like it belonged inside a house. I