Lilies

Larry's Mom planted these Tiger Lilies along the fence. Now, they are in the neighbors pasture. I guess I will have to climb the fence and reclaim them as they are mine!

Scissor Tail On My Clothes' Line

New Porch

Larry has the back porch redone. He is going to put two new electrical receptacles and we need a small table for the radio. We may get a bench to put in that corner. It will will be a nice place to sit this summer. It is 88 here today. The radio is to keep the crows out of the garden.

Elvis--How Great Thou Are

Greta and Clayton

Favorite Song

Helen posted a song she loved. Here is maybe my favorite hymn. Wonder if it was played at my rush funeral in Timbucktoo?

This hymn was writ­ten af­ter two ma­jor trau­mas in Horatio Spaf­ford’s life. The first was the great Chi­ca­go Fire of Oc­to­ber 1871, which ru­ined him fi­nan­cial­ly (he had been a weal­thy bus­i­ness­man). Short­ly af­ter, while cross­ing the At­lan­tic, all four of Spaf­ford’s daugh­ters died in a col­li­sion with an­o­ther ship. Spaf­ford’s wife Anna sur­vived and sent him the now fa­mous tel­e­gram, “Saved alone.” Sev­er­al weeks lat­er, as Spaf­ford’s own ship passed near the spot where his daugh­ters died, the Ho­ly Spir­it in­spired these words. They speak to the eter­nal hope that all be­liev­ers have, no mat­ter what pain and grief be­fall them on earth.

---

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Refrain

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Refrain

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

Refrain

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

Refrain

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Refrain

New Back Door

Got a new back storm door. The old one was one we put up in 1983. Don't know who the fat woman's shadow is!

Dead

Laura dreamed I died last night. She and Erin were off in another city shopping. Don't know why I was there. I fell over stone dead. They called the ambulance. The emt said...she is dead and you will have to call the funeral home. They would not accept me. They decided to just have the funeral there as it would cost less and they knew I would be pleased. The funeral home had to do a rush up job...but the event went off. An old man attended who said he thought he knew my husband in his younger days. He would call and let Larry know--I was dead. Everything went great. When they got back to Galla Meadow they had a meeting in the kitchen. Larry told Laura you had better call the SISTERS--

Laura called Fleta and Laura said in her dream...that is when it 'hit the fan'....

Glad I have you sisters!

Brown Bovans

The nurse at school gave me 5 new chickens. They are Brown Bovans. Never heard of them but hope Patsy will tell me they are a good breed.

Road to White House

This road leads to the White House--you know where all the important people live--Astrid, Ingrid and Sigrid. Larry left this Sycamore tree several years back. It is really growing tall. I saw a Red-Tail Hawk in the top of it this week. He had his eye on my Meadow. Well, 3 Blue Jays took off after him and tried to hammer him in the head. He could not take it and flew off to Crow Mountain. Yes, I live by Crow Mt. and it was not named for the crow indians, but for the black birds that have eaten up half our corn. Just as the corn pops up, they fly in and pull it up and eat the corn off the end. The corn was treated and I hope it kills them or at least gives them a belly ache.

Another Unknown Bird

Patsy says my little bird is an Indigo Bunting and I do believe she is correct. This looks just like the bird I have been seeing.

I know this is not a good picture. But this brilliant blue bird was at my feeder tonight. He was small and slim and sort of turquoise blue. Wonder what he is?

Elder George Ellis Gaddy

Captain George Ellis Gaddy's Grave

Road to Clover Creek Today!

From Behind Those Ozark Hills by Jesse Lewis Russell

George Gaddy is the Sister's Great Great Grandfather

He Preached a Literally Free Gospel

Elder George E. Gaddy, a stalwart Baptist minister during the old days, was closely associated with our family, not only in his capacity as a minister, but more especially because of the fact that he was a comrade-in-arms of my father during the Civil War, this association having drawn them together in a common cause. There had been some irregularity concerning the organization with which they were identified in that it was never formally mustered into the service. At least records failed to show that it had been. As a consequence, the men constituting the unit were not in line for pensions and other benefits accorded those who had formally taken up arms in defense of the Union.

It was during their efforts to get this matter straightened out that Captain Gaddy and my father were in huddles frequently for several years. Father was adept at "drawing papers" and had some knowledge of how to assemble evidence in war claims in order to get action, He helped collect scores of claims in order to get action. He helped collect scores of claims for "lost horses." But as ardently as they worked on the matter of securing the lost Company, they never got the job finished. There was always something lacking--a little more knotty red tape to be unwound, until the claim finally wore itself out.

Elder Gaddy was one of the most self-sacrificing of men. He was a member of an early species of the Baptist church who believed in a free gospel in the liberal sense, and he practiced what he preached, extending his liberality in every act as an exponent of the faith he professed. I think he must have prayed with more sick and dying people than any other preacher in the hills. His service in preaching funerals was in constant demand.

In those days it was the custom to set aside some Sunday following the demise of a departed brother, sister, or friend for a memorial service to pay tribute in sermon upon their lives. The custom has long since become a memory, but I am certain it was not without beneficial results. Anyhow, it served in those years of constantly recurring bitterness over the Civil War to allay prejudices and bring people to a better emotional understanding.

I recall that it was Elder Gaddy who officiated at a funeral, after this fashion, for Grandfather William Goforth in 1886, and it seemed to me that a lot of bitterness was dissipated on that day. The spectacle of a veteran of the Union cause pronouncing a eulogy on the life of one of the most unregenerated rebels of the community was not without wholesome effect.

It was only a short time after this incident that Elder Gaddy was induced to some former neighbors to follow them to their new homes in Idaho. Jeff and Bass Butler and their families had joined a colony on Clover Creek in Lincoln County, and the little community wanted a preacher. There were only a half dozen or so families in the little irrigated valley, but they felt their spiritual needs were becoming great after several years of never having heard a preacher's voice. Elder Gaddy, then bent with age and infirmities, decided to answer the call, and, accordingly, he and his aged wife and the one daughter who had remained in the home to attain considerable age moved out to the sagebrush country for the elder to take up his new charge in what was then the deepest of the wild and woolly west.

On the Sunday following their arrival at their strange new home the handful of people on Clover Creek, possibly as many as a dozen, assembled at the little schoolhouse there to hear the first sermon probably any of them had heard in years. Elder Gaddy had delightfully filled the stand and after doxology and felicitations, the elder proceeded with other members of the congregation to walk back toward his improvised new home along the sagebrush fringed path, and while yet almost in the shadow of the house in which worship had been held, he suddenly fell in his tracks, the victim of the fatal heart attack.

Shocked and grieved, his little congregation made such arrangements as were possible and laid his body to rest on an eminence not far removed from the scene. With much informality the good old Baptist minister and veteran captain of the Civil War was laid to rest, to forever occupy a "Home on the Range".

When the word got back to Old Salem, which had been his former charge, and the brothers and sisters there came to talk the distressing incident over, they allowed, some of them that Elder Gaddy had departed from his teachings; that the gospel should be literally free; that he had accepted a call to be paid for his labor;' and that God had struck him dead because he had accepted a purse made up for his support.

Be that matter as it may, good Brother Gaddy did not leave this world without leaving some footprints on the sands of time. In making search for data for this story I found, to my very great delight, a grandson of his, John P. McNeil, of Springfield, Missouri, in who the spirit of the grandfather lives on. He is also a pillar of the Baptist Church in his city and a man of great worth to the community. This grandson is a son of Manley McNeil, who married Elder Gaddy's daughter more than a half century ago. With his parents, John P. left the old stomping ground while in his swaddling clothes, and my research has brought to him information he had been eagerly seeking for several years concerning his grandfather. Mr. McNeil is quite well known to business people of Harrison, not only because of his connection with the Great Southern Loan and Savings Associations of Springfield, but as one of the city;'s greatest benefactors, in that it was he and his associates who gave Harrison its boasted Seville Hotel.

The name Gaddy is a precious one to me. One of my fondest memories is that it was my privilege, while sowing my wild oats in the West in 1891, to visit the desolate scene where my father's old army captain, and the veteran Baptist minister of my youth, is resting. I love to think of him and the simple faith and devotion that characterized his life until he was called to the everlasting home he loved so well to preach about!

Looking for a Snack

Blue Bird

Being Greedy

Or....bottle that bird or Canned Jay!! Mr. Jay was trying to hog the corn...well, look where that got him!

Garden

Came home Thursday to find much of the garden planted. Larry had worked all day on it. Before it was too late to plow. He planted green beans, corn, Texas Navy beans, okra, squash!

Memory Lane

Someone sent me this photo and I have the name of the lady in the picture. How different wash day was long ago. This was near Snowball, AR. See the well and the well bucket! She had to 'draw' all her water, then heat it probably outside on a fire, then wash these clothes on a wash board. She has had to hang some of her wash on the fence. I also love the posts on the clothes line! She is wearing an apron and bonnet, too, just like all the ladies did in her time. I think this is from the 1920s or 30s.

Plants

Fleta brought me two plants, part of Mom's Lilac and something called Lamb's ear. I put the Lilac with the one I have. The old one is white and the new spouts are purple....what will happen we will know someday if the spouts live.

Three Sisters

Well, warning to Green Forest folks, they are headed back your way. We had a great visit!

Killdeer

Astrid took these pictures of the Killdeer in our Meadow. Larry mowed around the eggs so they will have a chance to hatch. If you get near the nest, the Killdeer acts like she is injured and tries to get you to chase her leading you away from the nest.

Mother's Day Fun

Had a great day with my family--missed Greg Jones, though. I love them all and I am so thankful for Larry, Laura, Erin, Astrid, Ingrid, Sigrid, Clayton, Greta--plus bonus of Eric and Greg. Eric cooked for me! Yum, yum!

Galla Creek Carrie Nation

Carrie Nation is home again! She is going to really line up with Tie. Carrie is out Bonnie and Shooter...Tie is out of Dobs and Shooter!

Happy Mother's Day

Moses was left by his Mother in the Bulrushes. I can't imagine how she felt. Hush, little one don't cry! I think these are soft stem Bulrushes and not like the ones near where he was left.

Not A Red Bird

Mr. Bushy caught Bonnie Sue Parker taking a nap and had a good sunflower seed supper.

Stop-Over

We were just a little pause in their journey, but I thought they were so graceful that I felt peaceful just watching them rest at Galla Pond.

Another Bird At My Feeder

What bird could this be. He has been visiting my feeders? Who can help me figure this one out?

It is Rose-breasted Grosbeak !