Ghost Driver

Yesterday's blog did not get written, my headaches are back, Sunday was bad, yesterday was worse so far today it is mild. The thing that really stinks is not being able to take pain medication, the bright side is that it really feels good when it stops hurting.

Once I had a big toe that kept me up all night itching, felt like the bone was itching. Then I could take pain medication, but no relief, it nearly drove me crazy. I put alcohol on it, I rubbed tooth-past on it, Listerine, Ben-gay ointment, I was putting everything I could find that I thought might help. At the time I didn't care if it made my toe fall off that would have been a relief. I pounded it with my fist, dragged it on the carpet, I thought dawn would never come so I could get to the doctor. I got my husband off to work, then dressed and took my toddler son to stay with my parents and rushed to the doctor in anguish. Back then you could just go to the doctor without an appointment if you were in pain and they would see you. It turns out I had developed and inflammation around the bone in my big toe. He gave me a shot in the toe and the relief was like a shot of heaven. A round of medication and I've never had the problem since.

When I got back to Daddy's house we sat down for coffee and he told me about one of his co-workers years ago who had the same problem I'd had. He said, “He fixed his with a hatchet. It got to driving him so crazy, he just went out side and put his foot on the chopping block and chopped that big toe off.” That poor man, I can see that the thought of having to live with that kind of maddening itching pain would be almost too much to bear. I don't think I could have chopped my toe off though, I'd have missed anyway and took half my foot off.

Daddy used to have so many stories of co-workers, there was one night watchman at a box factory where he worked when I was a baby. Everyone knew that he just came in, punched the clock and went to sleep. He slept soundly. One night they went into the office where he slept on the couch and nailed his shoes to the floor, which he slept through. Next morning they all watched as he laced them up stood up, and fell down when they did not move with him as he tried to walk. He was caught in his tracks.

Daddy had a mechanic shop at this one place he worked most of my growing up years, but he was a jack of all trades, he drove trucks and kept that saw mill running. One of the truck drivers died and rumors got started that his truck was haunted. To feed that rumor, daddy would get up before daylight and go put that drivers gloves on the steering wheel as if in a driving position. When he got to work the men would be gathered around that truck, daddy the picture of innocence would say what's going on here, why aren't you men working. They'd say, “It happened again Mr D.C., he came back last night, look at that, there's his gloves.” Daddy would say, “OK, who's the joker?” He'd come home and laugh over it at the supper table. He did that about a week before he confessed to the workers, that he was the joker who had been feeding the ghost rumor.

When we were kids, during summer vacation, daddy would often take us to work with him we stayed in his shop while he worked around the saw mill. We were blessed little girls that daddy loved us enough to take time to include us in his life. Some dads of this day and age don't take time to make memories with their children, something they will live to regret someday. Sometimes he would let us set up in the tower and tally lumber as it went into the creosote dip vat, it was great fun and I liked that strange smell and watching the large squared rough beams fall into the black silk bath disappear then reappear climbing the rolling chains up the other side. It wasn't work to us it was play, These are some of my happy  childhood memories.

Times were so different back then, we were safe, even when daddy was out of sight, all the workers knew us and watched out for us. Now we live in a whole new world and it is not the wonderful world that I remember as a child growing up in the 50's. By the 60's Elvis had won our hearts and Beatle mania hit and we thought things were wonderful and life was going to be grand. Little did we know that this era would begin a steady decline, moral decay would envelope future generations. That sly old devil Satan had crept into the pool of life and barely made a ripple. My elders thought our music was a bad influence. If they heard this stuff our kids are listening to today, the shock would kill them.

These verses come to mind when I hear some of the music, music I don't listen to, unless someone drives through a parking lot with loud speakers blaring loud enough to wake the dead and I am forced to hear evil words that would have gotten someone arrested when I was young.

James 3:8-12- But no man can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapefruit bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water. James 1:26 If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridle not his tongue, but deceive his own heart, this man's religion is vain.