Nothing to do but work!

Meet my new friend "Miss Oleta." She's 81 years young and lives in the tiny community of Fifty-Six in the Ozark Mountains, a place with no senior activity center or much else for that matter.

After babysitting the local children in her home for years, she had to admit she wasn't as spry as she used to be and quit. But she wasn't ready to quit on life, and so she began to work three days a week at the local, and only, restaurant busing tables and washing dishes.

"My husband passed away a long time ago, and I'm all alone," she said. "I needed to get out."

Miss Oleta remembers a lot of the history surrounding her as she's never lived anywhere else. She remembers walking to school three miles each way, and she proudly announces that she, her husband and their son were all baptized in the waters of Roasting Ear Creek, “the coldest creek there is.”

She doesn’t cook much anymore, and much of the time she eats at the restaurant, known for catfish, steaks, shrimp, homemade rolls, pies and daily specials. “My favorite is the chicken strips,” she said, “and the pecan pie.”

“I have to say she’s the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. She won’t let anyone cut her grass or cut her wood,” the restaurant owner said.

“But she does let us take her home,” a customer nearby added. “We don’t make her walk anymore.”

Fat Tony's

Okay, he's a little fluffy, but I wouldn't go so far as to say he's fat. The man from Russellville says he used to be a lot bigger. He IS 6 feet tall and weighs upward of 270 - he's just a big Arkansas boy in my book.

Tony is an awesome listener say his customers at Fat Tony's Barber Shop on Arkansas Avenue, also know as Highway 7, just down the road from Arkansas Tech University. Only 23 years old, he's been cutting hair for several years already.

Really interesting thing, on first glance, is the little graveyard of unmarked tombstones which sit outside his front door and underneath his barber pole and an American flag. This way, he says, he can advertise for both his businesses.

Fat Tony is an accomplished tombstone carver. He takes great care in his craft and I follow him to the local cemetery to see his handiwork for myself.

I look at the pads and thick fingers making up Fat Tony's hands and wonder how he can produce such fine writing and intricate designs.

It's just a gift, he says the way a country boy would hang his head and mutter, "Aw, shucks."

Art comes in all forms, and I suppose the hands of an artist who uses his creativity to cut and design hair wouldn't have all that much trouble holding a delicate tool and chiseling sentiments on marble.

It's a Wonderful Life

It's a Wonderful Life here in the River Valley and Ozark regions of Arkansas, and here are two locals to prove it.

Mary and George Bailey (as in the characters in the popular and sentimental Christmas movie) have been married 75 years.

Both life-long educators, he being made principal of the school, they never tired of working side by side.

Mary is a hospice patient now. She doesn't remember things too well. She forgets words and when she works herself up into a lather he calms her down.

George can't see too well, but he proclaims she is the prettiest girl he ever did see. "And smart, too," he likes to add. Although she forgets how to dress at times, Mary looks out for George and moves furniture, so he can move about and reaches out her hand to steady him.

May this belated holiday story inspire you to love and to reach out to those who need you.

Blue Ribbon Babes

Blue Ribbon Babes

It's that time of year, when county and state fairs take advantage of the cooler weather to prop up some rides, roast some dogs, drizzle powdered sugar on funnel cakes and put out their finest.

Just had to share this photo of two girls in a neighboring county who won Best of Show in the junior baking competitions. Both learned from their mamas, of course, and both mamas also won ribbons in the adult (or Senior) category.

Christah, left, beat out her mother's cookies. They grew a bumper crop of pumpkins and made everything from pumpkinsauce (instead of applesauce) to cookies, cakes and muffins. They "put up a whole lot." I always liked the term "put up." Mama said the easiest way to store the pumpkin was simply to freeze the pumpkin meat in large baggies.

Rachel, right, chose to make her favorite recipe, an old favorite found in nearly every church cookbook, Million Dollar Fudge. She loves all things chocolate she said. Gee, a girl after my own heart.

Try the following recipes to put you in the proper fall state of mind:

Pumpkin Drop Cookies

by Christah

Ingredients:

2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
¼ cup butter
½ teaspoon salt
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup pumpkin
¾ cup Crisco
Directions:

Mix dry ingredients in one bowl. Cream butter and Crisco together once creamed and add pumpkin and egg. Slowly add dry ingredients to wet. Drop by spoonfuls onto greased and floured cookie sheets. Bake at 350 degrees for 12 minutes.


Mamie Eisenhower’s Million Dollar Fudge
submitted by Rachel
Ingredients:

4 ½ cups sugar
Pinch of salt
2 tablespoons butter
1 2/3 cups evaporated milk (1 tall cup)
12 ounces semisweet chocolate
12 ounces German’s sweet chocolate
1 pint (7 ounces jar) marshmallow crème
2 cups shopped nuts (optional)

Directions:

Combine sugar, salt, butter and milk in large heavy pan. Boil six minutes stirring occasionally. Pour boiling syrup over chocolate in a bowl. Beat until chocolate is melted. Stir in marshmallow crème and nuts. Pour into buttered 13x9x2-inch pan. Let cool several hours or until firm. Cut into squares and store in airtight container.

Art Church Rocks

There is an old church across the mountains In Hot Springs that has found a second life.

The church houses a wonderful family dedicated to keeping the integrity of the building and finding creative ways to fit into the ecclectic community.

As luck would have it, the two are artists. They, along with their teenage son, live in the main floor of the church, also know as the sanctuary where personal living space lies behind carved wooden doors. The pews have been pushed to the side, and the large main area is partly studio, partly gallery.

In the basement are the works of other artists, and the local sustainablity group uses the common area in the kitchen for the weekly pickup.

All that is exciting enough, but the Art Church opens its doors during the week for after-school programing and summer camps where kids get to do art! How cool is that! Especially when so many schools and communities have suffered cuts in funding.

We've known for a long time that our brains work better when we are engaged in creative outlets, and we all realize how important it is for children to have opportunites to shine. Kudos to the Art Church and all other endeavors working to promote a healthier - and more beautiful environment.

Father of the Year

Here you have my friend Harold who last year was voted the Father of the Year of Plainview, small town of 755 citizens, in Yell County. This is not a picture of all his children in the wagon. These kids represent a fraction of the youth he has mentored, sponsored and befriended in his tenure as the town's substitute dad. You see, Harold never had kids of his own. Nada. Never even been married. How's that for something to chew on?

Harold, who worked for years as a rodeo clown, is a cowboy and a retired lineman for the county. He dedicated his life to Christ some years ago and began his work with the wayward children of the small town nestled in the River Valley, hemmed in my Fourche Mountain and dwarfed by the shadow of Mt. Nebo.

Admirers of Harold, who nominated him for the award, brag on his agreeable nature. He's the babysitter when single moms are in a pinch.

We are lucky indeed to know folks with dedication like Harold. The youth are worth it.

Too Much Rain/ Too Much Dogs

The hometeam lost to the Georgia Bulldogs yesterday, 52-41, over there in Fayetteville. Bless thier big, meaty bones. More than 74,000 folks crowded the stands - the fifth largest attendance ever. Wasn't enough to get our boys a win though. Too bad, too. We've had a heck off a time getting into the groove in all ways down here.

Don't know how you are settin' where you are, but we are mostly drowning. We've had our share of rain plus some, and our agri-based state has felt at odds all summer and into the fall. This gentleman farmer can't get into the fields to cut the hay. Can't do nothin' he said. He went to the local cafe in Centerville, town of 400, for the biscuits and gravy breakfast and set out on the front porch greeting everyone as they came by, most in the same straits as him. Notice the spittoon for his Skoal?

Here' s hoping you find a comfortable place to perch when the waters get too high or the dogs bite too hard....