Country Gal/City Woman: "Blogging - 101"

"It may be, when we no longer know what it is we have to do, that our greatest and most important work has just begun!"   Wendell Berry - American Farmer, Fellow of Southern Writers, Novelist,

It was in early May of this year...the succulents had just been planted in the patio area (when I was growing weeds so abundantly, I called it the "backyard") and the water was being used sparingly to impress the Golden State Water Company that services my South Arcadia area...and I was bored.  Perhaps, "at loose ends" would be a better choice of words.  I felt/knew there was something "more" that I needed to be doing.  But what...don't do ironing or windows anymore, the bills were paid, bowling is a week away.  Why this "unfinished business" mood interlaced with a feeling of "anticipation"?  I was "befuddled," more than usual.

While taking a quick look at Facebook where new and old friends were waiting to talk politics and Nutrisystem, the words "patch.com" scrolled into view several times.  Now I had heard "pro's and con's" about this new "patch.com" thing so decided to check it out for myself to see what all the fuss was about.  A fair amount of "clicking" brought me to the arcadia.patch.com site where "they" promised me up-to-date news on events and, best of all, of people and places I once read about in the Arcadia Tribune.  The print was large and space was not a problem, not to mention the number of trees spared or printer's ink spilled.

Matthew Burch, I found, was the Editor of arcadia.patch at that time (ohhhh, how about that?  Burch - Birch:  like the street of my childhood, that was good.)  My mood lifted even further when I took several glances at his picture and, intuitively, liked what I saw looking back at me. 

It was then that I experienced "something" that takes over the whole of me when I know God has a very special surprise waiting for me...if I stepped out in Faith!

Still, it was with a "playful, and shucks, it wouldn't hurt" mindset that I wrote an e-mail to Matthew asking him if he would be interested in publishing some Blogs I had been writing about my existence as a CountyGal/CityWoman, that I had just turned 86 years of age and was looking for a "new career."  I added an "LOL" to show him how computer-savy I was. I know..."lame!"  :)

You should know that Jeff Gladu, a whiz-kid with computers and to whom I turn when I can't figure out this cut-and-paste computer business, said once that he would be surprised if I could write anything in less than 400 words (remember that, Jeff?) and come to find out, I can't...not when it comes to the circumstances and the people who have shaped my world.  (75 words, Jeff, not counting punctuation!)

However, "not to worry" said Matthew, articles "can be continued" and that is all he had to say.  On May 11, the first Blog appeared on arcadia.patch.com.  Could this really be happening?  This "something" that I have literally dreamed about since I first pressed my pug nose up against the big plate glass window of the Atlantic News Telegraph on Chestnut Street so many years ago. 

Move over, Jane Arden, that pesky/spunky girl reporter of 1927 comic book fame, and Lois Lane of today's Superman movies!  Shades of Helen Schrader, longtime Women's Editor of the Arcadia Tribune, too!   Thanks, Matthew, for taking a chance on a little old lady in Kohl's tennis shoes!  And, of course, my thanks to Natalie Ragus, the Editor who is looking after me now...

To prove my mettle, in that time-honored tradition of "scooping," here are a couple of exclusive "scoops" no other patch.com website has!   All I need is a pretty pink visor eyeshade and a No. 2 pencil to feel like a real "pro"!  I have my Diet Coke, thank you...

Scoop No. 1...I will never know his name but I think often of that oh, so young boy who timidly  knocked on the back door of 210 Birch, with cap in hand, asked Dad and Mom if there was something he could do around the yard for a sandwich.  His face was one we had not seen before, and he explained that he had discovered our address on the side of a wall near the train depot at the north end of Chestnut Street.  A way of communicating "good food" at this address!

It was during the Depression, and men "riding the rails" was not that unusual, but this young man, to walk that distance hoping for a meal, was.  I like to think of our house as Atlantic's "first Welcome Wagon!" but other neighbors did the same thing, it was the kindest thing to do in those days of lost hopes and dreams.

Within an hour's time, the young man was on his way back to the train depot to await the next train, board another boxcar and head in whatever direction the Rock Island Railroad would take him, but this time with a full tummy and a couple of meat sandwiches made with Mom's homemade bread,  an apple, a firm handshake and pants' pockets full of renewed hopes and dreams...the worst of times, the best of time.

Scoop No.2...James Braman was another young man who hit the back door of 210 Birch during those days when Mom's famous Navy Bean Soup and Rolls Hot Out Of The Oven were served family-style most every Monday at noon.  Wash day/Navy Bean Soup/Jimmy Braman/on a Roll.

Jimmy had been showing up on such a regular basis that I honestly thought he was Mom's nephew; instead he was our Prudential Insurance Agent coming to collect the 10 cents a week premium.  At many a Reunion, we have chuckled over Jimmy's penchant for Mom's Navy Bean Soup and "HROOTO" and the uncanny ability he had for sniffing out any day when the pre-soaked beans were put in the pot during the early morning hours and brought to perfection just as the Noon Whistle dutifully sounded...even when the premiums had been paid in advance! 

When I entered the Home Economics Class in High School, whom should I have for my teacher but Jimmy's wife.  Small world, and I like to think that Mrs. Braman, when she put that rather nice "A" on my Report Card, meant in "Appreciation!" for looking after her young man, the father of her children, while he lingered at Mom's table with us kids...

Scoop No.3...The United Presbyterian Church at Seventh and Chestnut Streets had an tasteful incentive to encourage kids to attend Sunday School.  Like on a child's birthday, he or she would be honored with a chocolate candy bar, and that gimmic/advertising ploy worked especially well with my chocolate-addictive personality; if I had only known that sooner, I would have attended my Hoffman family's church much sooner.  As it was, the Church Choir did gain another voice in due time, and I did change my name from Cranston to Derry on September 1, 1946, small family wedding at 1:30 p.m. with reception following at 7:00 p.m.  Those Presbyterians and I got a lot of mileage out of a couple of chocolate candy bars, so to speak. 

Scoop No. 4...It was during this time of search and exploration that Tootie and Tiny Maher introduced me to SS Peter and Paul Catholic Church.  Tootie later told my Mom that she thought Father Pat "lost his train of thought" when he noticed That Cranston Kid (with a spotty church-attendance record at best) sitting so demurely in the pew with the Maher family.  (What about "me" had preceded "me"?  Surely he had not heard of the Swimming Pool Incident and my precocious linguistic abilities!  Word gets around quickly in a town of less than 6,000 inhabitants and that "incident" was good for a "guess what Betty did now?" conversation for a week after my "dunking.")

Tootie and Tiny's reward, for my excellent behavior, sometimes kneeling, sometimes not, but otherwise sitting quietly completely captivated by Father Pat's precocious linguistic abilities though I did not recognize a single word, (the Latin language I would learn more about in Ms. Gladys Kluever's class in the Ninth Grade), was a trip to Dick and Janie's on Chestnut Street for a lemon coke, so I went back to see Father Pat the following Sunday, too.  Church potlucks have replaced chocolate candy bars and lemon cokes these days...but it's all good!

Scoop No. 5...Remember that quotation at the beginning of this article?  Those words were sent to me by retired Friends Pastor, William (Bill) Meehan from his home in Kingston, Arizona at a time I needed to hear them.  Pastor Bill has a story of his own to tell, of his years of growing up in Orange County, Ca., as a former Navy man, young family man pastoring several Friends churches, and then as a pastor for the Arcadia Friends Community Church during the early 1970's.  Retiring from the pastorate, my friend later went into business designing and building custom golf courses up and down the Coast and Hawaii. is again retired, but keeping busy, he says! 

Wanting to share with family and friends the story of his faith and with the generations to follow, Pastor Bill did write his story, (heady, revealing and inspirational)... it's a "keeper."  It's titled "My Journey by Grace" edited by his lovely wife, MaryLou, with additional help from his former secretary.    

I asked Pastor Bill permission to use his name in this Blog; and when I received his e-mail reply, headed up with an enthusiastic "Go for it!" (which, between trusting Friends, meant I could write almost anything I wanted to about my former boss) I'm also taking it from an equally enthusiastic Higher Authority that if I mind my "p's and q's" and "dot my i's and cross my t's" that this thing called "Blogging" has a purpose in my life, but Heaven help me, if I spell Pastor Bill's name or any of whom I shall write, inkorectly!

Just a bit of my life, my world..but you are welcome to it! 

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P.S.  Even though Pete Carroll has left us for the Seattle Seahawks, he left behind great memories of a day family members spent on the campus of USC, a day that I was ready to "beg out of" because it looked like rain.  Maybe I'll tell you about that next time we meet OR...maybe I'll tell you about the time Arnold Schwarzenegger made his Turner Network film "Christmas in Connecticut" using several unique communities in Arcadia for sets and scenes.  'til the next time!