Enjoy!
Ladies’ Magazine
Summer – 2012
A Letter from the Editor:
Dear Young Ladies,
Isn’t it wonderful to know
that summer has come at last? Of course, we all enjoy the beauty of each season
alike, but it is unanimously agreed upon by most girls, that summer is the most
inspiring season to write in. Many times I have looked out my window and wanted
to write down some delicous part of the outside, summer-filled world before I
go out to enjoy it.
Who can help but want to
write some type of poem or story about or including the brilliant sunshine and
blue sky? Don’t the brightly colored flowers make you want to paint them with
words in a book? When you stand outside and feel the warm breezes brush your
face, don’t you want to catch their fragrant scents on an empty page and see if
you can do it? And when the cold winter comes it is so nice to look back and
read the silly and variable things you have written and remember.
Sometimes just writing down
something small about the season can inspire you to go on to write something
wonderful. Who knows? This year might be the time you discover you innermost
author or poet. Take a chance and grab your pen! You may never know just how
close your ship of inspiration may be! So hoist your anchor and man the wheel
my dear writers; and may the journey of writing begin.
Bon Voyage!
Miss Lindsay D. Miles
Chapter
One: Stories from Our Readers.
Chapter
Two: Wisdom from our Mothers.
Chapter
Three: Collection of Poems.
Chapter
four: Delicious Dishes.
Chapter
Five: Potpourri of Thoughts.
“Adventure
of
The Diadem Ponies”
Written By Lindsay Miles
Chapter Four
Quietly Nasha waited- almost afraid to
go nearer to the cluster of bushes.
Her body stood frozen stiff while her mind raced with fears of what could be
rustling the thick black clusters of ebony branches ahead of her. Silently
thinking to herself, ideas and questions flashed in her mind while her hands tightened
their grasp on the knife she was holding. She dared not close her eyes even
though her stomach tightened into tiny knots.
Should I go see what it is? She thought to herself. After all it might only be some small animal that is sleeping beneath the
limbs. Dare I step forward? What if it is a cougar? Is the risk too great?
Wildly these thoughts spun through her brain until she remembered what her
father had told her long ago when she was but a small babe. “Be not afraid
little Nasha of the troubles of mind and main. ‘Tis best to keep your head and
brave it, than to lose your courage to fear.”
Even
though her heart was pounding within her, Nasha clenched her fist with the
knife in it and bravely stepped closer to the ebony trees ahead of her. Sunlight
gently glowed through the small cracks in between the leaves, and the closer
Nasha got to the cluster, she could hear a very tiny sound. It was soft and
smooth, almost like the cooing of a mother over her baby. Suddenly Nasha could
not stand the suspense of the moment any longer. Quickly she stepped forward
and with her trembling hands she yanked the branches apart.
She
gasped! For there, lying on the ground with her shiny black head tucked close
to her stomach, her soft whinnying rippling and cooing in the air--- was Onyx.
“Onyx!” Shouted Nasha, as she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around the
glittering ebony- colored head. It was quite a while before she raised her
joyful tear-stained face from the soft bed of the pony’s black mane. Suddenly
she was startled to see fuzzy, brilliant, white fur mixed with the deep black
of Onyx’. Suddenly Nasha understood the cause of the Pony’s disappearance! For
their lying beside her Poniha was a beautiful silver-white foal. To Be Continued...
“The Underground Secret”
Chapter One:
“Sinworum’s Find”
Beneath a black and starry sky full of the unexpected, stood a shiny red creature of metal and iron such as you
have never seen. “Where is the planet Euchera?” said the unearthly creature to
himself. With a menacing glance of sinister evil, the robot wolf scanned the nighttime
sky carefully.
Seeing a small light begin to come into appearance, the wolf
snickered. “As I have suspected. Dreaducon cannot wait to darken that light
that now shines in our sky. He will be very glad to know that I, Sinworum, the
dreaded red wolf of the dark forests, have found the shining planet of
Euchera.” Sinworum prowled off quietly in to the evil night. His flaming tail
of metal slashed at greenery and tree limbs. His beady green eyes scanned the
darkness before him. His foul nose twitched with uncanny speed. It took him a
long while to reach his destination, but he did not mind it while imagining the
reward he would receive from his master, the evil Dreaducon.
When he saw the looming grey tower before him, no gleaming
light of welcome shone his way, nor did a creature like himself greet the evil
wanderer when he approached the massive tower door. Feeling the handle with his
thorny paws, Sinworum knocked twice upon the metal. A pause ensued before a
deafening sound caught his ears. “SLAM!” A little window located just above the
handle slid back so quickly, that it startled even the fearless Sinworum. When
the look of shock passed from his loathsome face,
he relaxed when he saw who it was. “Megana, my flower of darkenss, let your
wandering husband in to rest. I have
found the planet Euchera and Dreaducon will be glad to see me of it.” The door
swiftly opened desite its gigantic form, and out stepped a comely blue fox with enourmaous white eyes that stared softly
on the sleek red wolf outside. Then she answered him in a voice as smooth as a frozen
stream, “Come in my brave husband. You are indeed welcome for rest. “ The two
stepped inside, and the great door closed, leaving them in utter darkness. To Be Continued…
“My Mother- The Homemaker”
By Martha Anderson
(A revised and shortened excerpt from the origianal version.)
My
mother, Nellie Williams Andrus, was short in stature and heavy. She was born in
September 16, 1876, the year of the United States’ first centennial. Mopther
was full of energy, her brown hair never whitened, her peircing brown eyes
never missed anything. I thought sometimes she, like God, can see everyone and
everything they did. We children got away very little unless we brazenly lied
our way out.
Of my mother’s childhood and her people,
their time and place, I got bits and pieces. We did listen to her closely whe nshe
told us about the good times she had when she was a little girl on the farm---
riding a pony, wading in a brook, sliding down a haystack. We were little and
hadn’t done these things yet. One of my little brothers said, “Mother I wish I
had met you sooner.”
Mother was very sociable and talkative,
whereas my father was a quiet man. She got involved in anything, everything,
and everybody.
She helped neighbors. When a woman already
with a large family had a new baby, mOther was there with food, ready to bathe
the woman and care for her family. Many elderly were taken into the home and
cared for until they died. Besidesm for yars whe watched over Grandma Andrus
nad my father. When her brother Ray’s wife expected a baby and had no money to
prepare for the new arrival, Mother planned a shower where a baby crib and
other necessities were given; many made garments. Showers in those days were
not common as they are today and usually were given for the very poorest.
Mother was always working. She held up her
end of the family structure by sewing, cooking, naking, and canning. She often
took in boarders--- men who worked on the road, county ditches, telephone
lines, bridges, and vendors such as Rawleigh and Watkin’s dealers.
Mom entertained longtime friends who came
by train and later car. Our home was always filled with light, probably because
I was happy there.
She was a marvelous cook. I don’t know how
she turned out such quantities of appetizing foods on a coal/wood range in
winter and an oilstove in summer. The magic of Mother’s cooking posses us as we
grow up, especialy the boys. It’s the hunger which makes everything Mother made
taste so good.
The old, black range is gone, and in it’s
place stands stoves of shinihg porcelian, oil, gas, electric; but still my
memory goes back to the kitchen range and the homemade bread Mother baked for
me.
Proverbs 31:10-31 “Who can find a vurtuos
woman? For her worth is far above rubies… the heart of her husband doth safely
trust in her…she stretcheth out her hand to the poor… yea, she reacheth forth
her hand to the needy… she looketh well to the ways pf her household, and
eateth not the bread of idleness.”
“Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day”
My soul is a wakened, my spirit is soaring
And carries aloft on the wings of the breeze;
For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,
The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
The dead leaves, beneith them, are merrily dancing,
The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing
The foam of it’s billows to whirlwinds of spray;
I wish I could see how it’s proud waves are dashing,
And hear the wild roar of their thunder to-day!
-By Anne Bronte
“Inspiration Takes Flight”
My soul shall fly among the light
of brilliant azure sky;
And catch the dreams of winge`d flight
That colors the dark and dreary night.
My soul shall soar past yonder break
Of cloudy gray expanse.
The gleaming sunbeams do entrance-
They toss their rays and lightly dance.
Then barr me, clouds with tinted arms-
As the eve of day has set.
The rain may glaze the world with wet,
I shall touch the rainbow of skylight yet.
-By Lindsay Miles
Our rooms were drab and times were lean,
The worst of the ‘30s we had seen.
Mama said ‘twas time to feed the soul,
As she took from the shelf a bright-rimmed bowl.
With nimble fingers and showman’s flourish,
Traits we had come to cherish,
She shaped a bow from bit’s of coal.
(What had this to do with soul?)
Six tablespoons water and six of salt,
She poured on the coal withought a fault.
Three tablespoons bluing, three drops of red ink,
Voila! ---- a transition in less than a wink!
Within the bowl---- was it moss? A rose?
Mama said we could see whatever we chose.
So that which we fancied did “feed the soul,”
And it all began with a lump of coal!
I treasure the day that I joyously found
Light prevails if the eye is sound;
Hopes were re-kindled in that magic hour
When Mama fashioned a Depression Flower.
-L. V. Denson
“This Day is Yours”
Let this day be all of Your’s Lord.
Let even my heart be Thine.
May I use this time for You.
I know these hours are Yours, not mine.
Every minute sweet and fast-
Each soon spent in it’s own way.
Some future moment may be my last,
I pray I may do Your will each day.
These many hours are meant to be
Full of moments prasing You.
I ask that You will help guide me,
To give each moment full to You.
Swedish Spice Cake
Mix
together:
2
½ cups flour 1 ½ tsp.
Ginger 1 ½ tsp. Cloves 1 ½ tsp. Cinnamon
1
½ cups sugar 2 tsp. Baking Soda
When
mixed add:
1
1/3 cups buttermilk or sour milk 1 ¼ TBL Margarine or Butter,
melted.
Blend
well and then pour batter into a greased and floured 9x13 pan.
Bake at 350 degrees
for 35-40 minutes. Enjoy!
Chapter Five: Potpourri of Thoughts.
One Famous man remarked: “Genius is
1% inspiration and 99% perspiration.”
“Homemaking”
(An excerpt from Frank G. Davis’ book
“Guidance for Youth.” 1928)
“While the homemaker does not render service
so large a number of people as do the doctor, lawyer, teacher, etc., her time
of service to the few under her care extends over a much longer period of time.
No other profession is of more vital importance to the nation. The United
States government, recognizing the underlying influence of its people, has seen
fit to provide for the intelligent training of home-makers, and in 1917 passed
the Smith-Hughes Act. This act provides for Federal grants to states for aiding
four phases of education: agriculture, commerce, home economics, and industry.
Home economics is defined as “that education which has for its controlling
purpose the preparation of girls and women for useful employment as house
daughters and home-makers in the occupations and management of the home.” It is
not included under industrial education, because that implies preparation for a
definite wage-earning.
Many people believe that if some of these
efficient home managers filled the city official positions, our cities and
towns would have cleaner streets, better-kept parks, the laws would be more
strictly enforced; that there would be less graft, and altogether that city
affairs would be more wisely managed than they are today.”
It was estimated that in 1928, 80 percent of
women married and 90 percent of housewives did their own work. Nowadays, what would you say the percentage
was? Interesting huh?
