Sue Martin Glasco

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Sue Glasco was born in the southern part of Illinois in 1933 during the Great Depression in a region called “The Land Between the Rivers.” (Ohio River on the east and Mississippi on the west.) Her sister Rosemary was eight and her brother Jim was five. The family lived in a big two-story rental house at the top of a short street sloping gently down to the elementary school where her father was both principal and eighth grade teacher. Later they rented a house even closer to the school where her first memories surface. By the time Sue started first grade, her parents had bought a house across the street from the school. School lasted for only eight months, and there were no summer salaries for teachers. So Sue’s family leased their home for the summer and moved to her father’s home place in a nearby county. Her parents made that annual move an adventure in country living, and Sue grew up appreciating farm life. An exception was the summer after first grade, when the family moved to Colorado so her father could study at the University of Colorado. He brought her books from the university library. At the farm, books were ordered from the state library system and were delivered by the mail carrier. When she was eight, World War II began. A teacher at a one-room rural school was drafted. Sue’s mother was asked to take his place. In some communities at that time, it was considered unseemly for a married woman to teach. Now it was a patriotic duty to teach. (There were married women and married women with children at her dad’s school, however.) Sue’s mother picked up students with their 1937 Ford car, supervised the student who built the fire in the stove, kept the building clean, and taught all eight grades. Sue loved visiting her mother’s school when her school was closed, but she hated being alone in the house until her mother and siblings returned each afternoon. News of the war and its heart ache filled their lives. The school yard was heaped with enormous hills of collected junk metal and old rubber tires as community scrap drives took place. Students competed in paper drives and brought in tightly-wound balls of tin foil from gum and other wrappers. Kids thought they were helping win the war when they helped with the drives and when they bought savings stamps and participated in savings bond drives. After the war, the rural school consolidated with the town school, and Sue’s mother also taught across the street. Few teachers had their degrees, and her parents were always taking night classes—sometimes locally and sometimes driving with a car load of teachers to what is now Southern Illinois University Carbondale. After she started high school, Sue’s parents stopped moving to the farm, but she still enjoyed going with her dad on Saturday when she could. Her sister went off to Carbondale to school after working locally for a year after high school. Her brother joined the army after high school and returned to SIU on the GI Bill. Most local students went to college at Carbondale, where one could work oneself through school. This was where Sue’s grandfather, parents, aunts and uncles had gone, and she took it for granted that she would follow the same path and did. She worked, majored in journalism and had almost a second major in speech. Right before Christmas when Sue was a senior, Gerald Glasco had finished his stint in the Air Force and came back to campus to finish his degree in agriculture. They had met once, and Gerald had spent time with a mutual friend in Hawaii, so he phoned Sue to share greetings from her. They began dating over the holiday break, and by April, they announced their engagement. Sue kept her plans to participate in an interdenominational project at Judson Student House in Greenwich Village, which required participants to find a job, work during the day, and then join in evening Bible study and listening to lecturers from around the city. Weekend activities explored the church in urban life. Sue secured summer employment as a secretary in an office at the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism and saw upper NY daily. She did not get to any ball parks, but she enjoyed the cheap seats in theaters on and off Broadway. After the summer, Sue went to coach debate and to teach an integrated English-speech class to sophomores at a new high school in a Chicago suburb. She returned home for a June wedding. Gerald and she rented a house (no plumbing) in the country for $10 a month They were eager to start a family, and Katherine was born the following April while Gerald finished his senior year at SIU and they lived on his GI Bill. Wanting to farm someday, Gerald accepted a fellowship at the University of Illinois to complete his masters in ag economics. A farm in the Mississippi bottoms opened up for them to rent but with a three-month gap between finishing his degree and its availability. They felt a miracle provided Gerald a teaching job for that fall term at Western Illinois University. Their only son Gerry was born in Macomb before they began their lives as farmers. They went in debt for a tractor, and Gerald raised pigs without a farrowing house. Their tenant house was cold in winter, and they had to work hard, but they enjoyed farm life. Shortly before their three-year lease expired, their daughter Jean Claire (Jeannie) was born. Soon they moved up to Columbiana Ranch in the middle of the state, where Gerald became livestock manager.Then he and his brother Keith had an opportunity to buy a hog farm back in Southern Illinois the next year; they took the plunge into farm ownership. Keith’s family lived at the hog farm, and they moved into a wonderful old house (cold, no plumbing till they remodeled and put it in) on a rented farm, which would provide crop land. Mary Ellen was born the following June. Keith was able to buy a farm back in their home county and moved his family there, and Gerald and Sue moved over to the hog farm, where they lived for the next 36 years until they built their retirement home on a small lake Gerald had built. Despite a serious childhood illness, Katherine became a singer, a teacher and a children’s librarian in Nashville, TN. Eventually she came back home to teach and to be near her nieces and nephews. She married David Cedar shortly after her unexplained bouts of illness had finally led to the diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. (Probably the MS had started when she was 14.) She continued to teach music and reading until the stairs became too difficult and she had to retire. Much to their delight right before her 40th birthday, their son Sam was born. Now Sam has one more year of high school before he goes to college. MS has progressed and robbed her of the ability to walk or use her hands. She and Sam live in nearby Marion. Gerry married his high school sweetheart, which was the smartest thing he ever did. Vickie worked full time and held the family together while he developed a successful hunting/outfitting business in Mexico in the winter months and coached travel softball for their three daughters in the summer. Tara grew up to play for SIUC and became a teacher, married Bryan Archibald, and soon had three adorable sons. Erin played for Notre Dame, Texas A&M, USSSA Pride, and then one summer in Europe . She now teaches middle school math and coaches in Texas. Six years ago Gerry closed the business and became assistant softball coach at the University of Georgia. Three years ago he became associate head coach, and Lu Harris-Champer brought Tara in as assistant coach. Tara was able to do this because their family and Gerry and Vickie rented a large house together, and Vickie became a caregiver for the three little boys while Tara coached. Bryan had an office in the house, where he disappeared each morning to the computer, to continue his job at an architecture firm in the Chicago area. Geri Ann finished high school at Oconee, won the 2012 Gatorade High School National Player of the Year in softball, and has just completed two years playing for UGA while studying special education. This summer Gerry is coaching USSSA Pride and has just become associate head coach at Texas A&M. Jeannie grew up with a kitten or sketch pad or both in her hands a large part of the time. She married Rick Eiler, who heads the math department at Freeport High School, and Jeannie now teaches art in a grade school. They raised three talented children. Leslie married Mike Thompson, works for a music publishing company, and continues singing and acting in Nashville, TN. Mike is a personal trainer and has little Leslie doing amazing strength feats, so obviously he is good at what he does. He also plays a fine guitar. Elijah has just finished an internship in a Chicago neighborhood and will be in Indianapolis fall semester and student teaching in Chicago his last semester at Illinois State University. Cecelie, the youngest grandchild, will be a high school sophomore and continues her older siblings’ footsteps in music, speech, and theater. Mary Ellen majored in agriculture communication, and ended up as editor of Tennessee Magazine in Nashville. When she married Brian Taylor, they soon moved to Grinnell, Iowa, where Brian worked for DeKalb Seed. While there, Trent was born and then their daughter Brianna. Several moves after that gave them lots of experience in adjusting to new communities, and last spring they moved to a farm they bought near us. Brian continues to work full time with seeds for Monsanto. He goes up to Saint Louis when needed and works out of a home office otherwise. (Both he and grandson-in-law Bryan say they get more accomplished in a private home office than when co-workers are nearby.) Somehow Brian also farms Gerald and Sue's farm and other rented land. In addition to homemaking and helping Brian, Mary Ellen has just resumed her career as a realtor that she started when they lived in a Saint Louis suburb and which she continued in Springfield, Illinois. Obviously they work too hard. Trent, brilliant family computer and gaming geek, transferred down to John A. Logan College when they moved here. Always at the top of everything she does, beautiful blond Brianna is home working at the local Dairy Queen this summer and will soon be going back for her sophomore year in the honors program at Murray State in Kentucky. Sue’s life has been primarily that of a mother and farm wife. She had what she calls a haphazard education career as a substitute in K-12, part-time teaching at Marion and Johnston City High Schools and in area community colleges. Finally she spent over six years working in family literacy in Franklin County for Rend Lake College, the last two of which were full time. She always wrote some when time allowed. Although she made little money free lancing or part-time teaching, she enjoyed the interaction with students and the stimulation of writing. Sue and Gerald’s original family of two has now grown twenty-four, and that is not counting everyone’s dogs. That is a lot of people to keep track of and an ongoing excuse for Sue not getting all her writing projects done. It also gives her plenty to blog about, and blogging provides her a venue without having to waste stamps and return envelops on manuscripts as she did in her younger days. Back then she wanted to make money, but now she just writes for the pleasure of it.

Comings and Goings

Just as June was a blur, July continued to often cause me to catch my breath to clear my head. It was exciting when Jeannie and Rick came through for a good evening visit and bringing us some of Rick's honey from his Wisconsin hives, and showing the maps that taught me the Mississippi River extends way beyond New Orleans into the Gulf. They left the next morning before we were even out of bed. (I am guessing maybe 4 a.m.) They were eager to reach Louisiana to start the last leg of their goal for Jeannie to ride her bicycle the complete Mississippi River Trail. Earlier this spring they had done Mississippi and crossed over the bridge at Natchez to Vidalia. As her coach, Rick has gallantly and with bated breath watched her ride in Canada and now to the lowest part of the Mississippi River on crowded highways, darkening lonely ones, rough graveled trails, and scary bridges. They have endured hot weather, cold weather, rain, and unkind winds and irritated motorists.

Another night I was coming home down our lane after a late evening helping Katherine, and I saw vehicle lights heading my way. When the lights suddenly swooped around and headed back, I should have guessed Gerry, but he was not known to be anywhere near us. But there he was walking around the end of the garage when I got to the house. (Gerald had texted me Gerry was here, but somehow the text had not gone through.) He gave me a hug and explained he had recruited for two or three days and now he had done his laundry at our house for the next round of recruiting. We had a good visit; and for some reason, I assumed he'd spend the night. But, no, he was back on the road to head to Saint Louis to be there early the next morning for a friend's very serious surgery. Shannon made it, and Gerry continued recruiting.

Since she lives near us, Mary Ellen often drops in and out unexpectedly when she is in the neighborhood on the way to a client or to see someone visiting here or to bring us one of her great meat loafs. When she was expressing a bit of concern about having to climb up to the second floor of an abandoned building in a nearby village, Gerald decided he would go along. He reported her trepidation was well founded in his opinion. Hopefully the new owner is on his way to successfully reclaim the building's usefulness.

When our granddaughter Erin realized her schedule was clear of her travel ball coaching duties and her military husband was called to California for a few days, she headed to Illinois. She had missed seeing some dear ones when she was here in June. She especially regretted not getting to see her friend Candace's twins on their third birthday. She not only had a good visit with us and her other relatives, but this weekend visit she was able to spend catch-up time with Candace. On Sunday afternoon before she left, we were treated too when Candace brought the twins to the farm. Gerald gave them a “fishing” and boating experience. (If I understood it, the adults caught the fish and the Jamison and Mathison caught them with their hands from the bottom of the boat and threw them back in the lake.) I was home from Katherine's when they came inside to holler “Gma Sue Gma Sue!” and want to play and explore the house with me. In our crowded tornado shelter, of course, they immediately found two badminton rackets and headed back upstairs. By the time I got up there, one boy was asking me for his and I could not see it anywhere. Two days later, I saw both neatly placed by their mother on the fireplace mantel out of view. With curly blondish locks, they are absolutely adorable but all boy, and I knew exactly why Candace hid the racquets. It was several more days before I thought to have Gerald get down the diet soda carton that Erin wisely placed on the very top of the kitchen cabinets to solve that problem when they were snacking in the kitchen.

One of my favorite summer visits was from Trent and his friend Rachael from New Jersey. They had first come while I was at Katherine's, so Trent called the next day and made an appointment because he knew I wanted to meet this young woman with the beautiful red hair—my favorite hair color. These two and Brianna have been friends since childhood via some game on the Internet that was safely monitored for kids. They kept in touch through an alumni group or something. A couple of summers ago, Trent was treated to a week in New York City visiting Rachel's parents and grandparents. And now Rachael has experienced farm life in rural Southern Illinois.

Our July visits were completed by Jeannie and Rick's return from their successful mission. We loved hearing their stories and were grateful Jeannie made it safely through New Orleans by going very early during day-break hours. They stayed with us a couple of nights, but Jeannie was still enjoyed her return to riding form, so she had to ride 93 miles to Carbondale and around to get her fix the day in between the night-time visits. With her last summer's cancer delay, we were filled with awe and delight that the Mississippi River journey is complete and that now she is riding Freeport trails with relish until the school year begins and she must return to work. Rick actually started work on Monday with the annual math review that some high school kids elect to take before the formal school year starts.

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Too Much Going On

     Standing on the deck with feisty tiny hummingbirds buzzing near me, I looked across the lake where the wild geese rest in water near the edge of the island shaded by leafy trees overhead. The hot summer air in front of me is filled with young martins gliding in circles while their shadows on the grass below create a duet of grace. I enjoy a moment of calm and peace and hope it stays that way for awhile.

 

      I had thought that once our anniversary celebration was over that the summer would suddenly be lazily unencumbered with plans or conflicting duties. Not so. The first two weeks of July flew by with needs, responsibilities, and appointments bumping into each other.

 

      My wristwatch that I felt so smug about quickly replacing with a new battery quit again after two weeks. I really like my inexpensive watch because I can clearly see the time easily, but I guess I need to go back and replace it with more than a battery. I avoid that huge store because I have to park so far away that I once got lost trying to find my car. And once inside the store, there is much more walking to find anything.

 

      Since my watch quit working, I tried to carry my cell phone more to be able to check the time. When I had pockets that was not a problem; but once when I didn't, I carelessly dropped it and it fell into two pieces. Yes, it was one of the old ones with a little cover. I resisted everyone's suggestion I might need to replace it with a more modern cell phone because I knew how to answer it, make calls, and text. There were some uses I never had bothered to learn, but I sure did not want to figure out a new phone. 

     That breakage, however, required another trip to the mall at the other side of town, where the phone store has limited parking and a long wait. There I found out the clerk had to call Gerald for his permission for me to replace my phone. I listened as she explained there was a $40 upgrade fee but became somewhat embarrassed as she incorrectly told him I'd said he had wanted me to get one of the 99 cent phones. I explained to her afterwards that he had not said I was to get the 99 cent phone, but that was my desire. I had two choices and chose the one with a pull out screen that I hope makes texting a mite quicker.   

        However, the store was out of that one, so I am waiting for it to be delivered and then I will need to either follow directions to set it up or go back to the store and they will kindly and gladly do it for me. Since I am a poor at understanding directions, I suspect I will need to make another trip back to the other side of town once my new cell arrives. I had no trouble parking the other day, but I had a scare when a big truck almost backed into me as I exited. I took comfort that at least it would have been his fault if he had not seen me in time.

 

      On yet another day, I had finally made the needed appointment to get my eyes checked—at the same mall on the other side of town. I found out the reason I kept thinking my left lens was dirty was that a cataract on my left eye needed to be corrected. Now I've made that appointment for August—the earliest they can take me. There have been a couple of appointments to keep current on my INR level, which I am conscientious about after two hospitalizations in past years for pulmonary embolisms. Now I need to make a check-up visit with the dermatologist since I found out it had been three years when I checked my files.

 

      The worst summer busyness, however, resulted from serious health threats to loved ones. All three of our brothers had serious problems. Gerald couldn't go see Keith while he was in the hospital because Gerald was fighting an infection himself. The other two brothers both received good enough reports that they did not have to be hospitalized, and Gerald is feeling good again. Katherine, however, had to spend ten days in the hospital at Carbondale to take care of two serious infections and other issues. By the time she returned home, her already short staff was decreased by one, so I needed to go to her home each evening. After many phone calls, texts, and interviews, she thinks she again has a full staff. So today I am not leaving the farm.

 

      I am using all this busyness as my excuse and not blaming (or admitting) my age caused me to get mixed up on the time for a dentist appointment in Carbondale. Gerald kindly took me for the appointment and dropped me off saying he would complete our recycling job. I had filled the trunk because we like the center in Carbondale where you can recycle all items at once from paper to cans, glass, etc. Our plan after the appointment was to drive down to Keith and Barbara's in rural Union County since Keith had gotten home from the hospital the day before. Imagine my embarrassment when I found out my appointment had been that morning not that afternoon.

 

      Yes, the office had called me and reminded me, but I either misheard or just got mixed up. I phoned Gerald to come back for me as soon as he was through recycling, and I have to brag on him for not being the least unpleasant about my mental failure. In fact, as we left in the direction of Keith's, he pointed out we were on the same street our friends Rich and Ann Lipe live on. He commented that I'd been wanting to see them, so why not stop and see if they were home! We had a wonderful long neglected visit with the Lipes before going on down and having another good visit with Keith and Barbara. We stopped in Marion for supper and took a bite by Katherine's to feed her supper and give her night pills.

 

      These time-consuming irritants and obligations and worry for ourselves and family members are small in comparison to the heart-rending news we have heard on television this month. The gun violence and the resulting weeping fill the screen. Once again someone with serious mental problems, increased by his association with hate groups, went on a shooting spree and took five of our finest police, who had just stood with peaceful protesters. We hold our breath to see how things go with Britain out of European Union. And now we hear about the uprising in Turkey, and we feel concern as to how that will affect our fight against ISIS. We worry about the slaughter in Syria. We experience the need to turn the television back on to find out the latest development and at the same time a reluctance to possibly hear of yet another tragedy.

 

      I am grateful to be able to look out occasionally and watch three bright yellow finches who have finally found the net holding seeds for them there. I am grateful for all the flowers piled in sympathy on the police cars in Dallas. I am grateful for the ten-year-old who wants to become a policeman someday because his mother who shielded him was shielded by a policeman. I am grateful for the wisdom-filled words of grief-stricken15-year-old son whose father was shot by police. I am grateful for those who risk criticism and danger to remind us that black lives matter. And for those who include black lives when they say all lives matter. I am grateful for Chief David Brown and his good thinking and quiet leadership under duress and for his faith that he so naturally shared with the nation. I am grateful for President Bush and President Obama who stood in unity condemning gun violence and encouraging us to become a better nation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recent comment in this post
Rosy Cole
This post began so peacefully, Sue. Thanks for updating us. I do hope life will settle down to a calmer pace for you soon. Believe... Read More
Wednesday, 20 July 2016 20:24
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Flowers, Losses, and Wins

Well, I guess I better throw out my second Mother’s Day bouquet. Maybe I can find a pretty iris from the yard to replace it.  The night before Mary Ellen and daughter Brianna left to drive Brianna to Disney for another summer’s work, I’d heard that Bri, her brother Trent, and cousin Sam were having Friday night supper together.  Come to find out, they bought their supper at the grocery store and came out to the farm and had a picnic on the deck.  I was at Katherine’s.  When I left her house and was pulling out of her loop street onto Duncan, I saw a car stop and kids yelling and wondered who those youngsters were. 

 

Then as I turned the corner, here they came up behind me and presented me with a lovely bouquet that they said was a belated Mother’s Day gift.  We had a laughing gathering until another car came up and I had to move on. There is nothing so energizing as young people out having fun!  Their flowers came just as I needed to throw away the lovely bouquet Gerald had given me for being the mother of his children, so I have enjoyed them. 

 

Last Saturday rather than this weekend was my memorial participation. I squeezed in a trip down to Busby Cemetery in Goreville between visits to Katherine’s house.  I had bought artificial flowers in a timely fashion a few weeks before and they were waiting in the car.  I felt bad that I had neglected the annual trip to Busby for a couple of years, and I was determined to have flowers on my parents’ and others’ graves this year.

 

As little girl, the third Sunday in May was always important to our family because this day was called Decoration Day where my father’s family were buried.  Daddy explained to me once that because so many people in that strongly connected community had family buried in more than one cemetery, it was decided to designate different Sundays for different cemeteries.  Then people could observe more than one day to decorate graves. I remember the flowers made of crepe paper that people prepared for the graves.  Mother usually had iris and other fresh flowers to put in fruit jars and leave on our ancestors’ graves. 

 

Three of my great grandparents’ babies are buried and marked with flat rocks stuck into the earth.  Three of my daddy’s baby sisters are there near his parents’ graves, and he and his siblings placed an engraved stone for them.  It was always extremely important to my aunt Myrtle, the only sister who lived to adulthood, that the little girls have commemorative flowers. Daddy taught me to honor the graves by not stepping on them but walking between them. This year as I walked between them, my elderly balance was challenged by the uneven grassy ground. I knew I might not get back to put flowers there again.

 

Yesterday was a lazy rainy day for me, and the rain today will probably make it another one. Yesterday I had to run to town for an INR, but I was back home in little over an hour.  It was made into a very pleasant trip because I was able to accidentally visit with Saundra Jent just a bit in the waiting room before and after my INR.  We had not seen each other in person for years although I consider her a very special and favorite person.  She used to teach our kids at church and entertain them at her home.  Her mother Marguerite Miller Hill was the first perspn who came to visit us when we moved to farm in Williamson County.  I so loved Marguerite.  I used to tell my kids if I had a flat tire or some other disaster kept me from meeting their school bus after a ball game, they could always go to Marguerite or Joyce Jean’s and either would take care of them. The disaster never happened, but having such wonderful friends gave me peace of mind just in case.

 

We spent last weekend watching softball. The 16 regional tourneys have been reduced to eight super regionals. So there are fewer games to watch this weekend.  Some of the super regionals started yesterday, but granddaughter Geri Ann and the Ducks will not play UCLA until tomorrow night at 8:30 CST on ESPN.  Again this tourney is double elimination.  Their second game will be Sunday at 6 CST on ESPNU. If necessary, the third game will be Sunday at 9 CST on ESPNU. 

 

We were shocked last Friday night when our Texas A&M lost to Texas 5-0.  All five of their scores were homeruns! One player had not had a hit since Valentines Day and broke out of her slump with one of these runs!  We came back the next day and won against Boston and then Texas, so the chance to move on came the next day against undefeated Lafayette Louisiana.  A&M thought they had won that game in the 8th inning and were cheering when the umpire declared the batter had stepped over lines no longer present in the batter’s box.  So they lost 9-8 in the ninth inning, and thus did not get to play yet another second game against Lafayette.  Freshman Samantha Show had pitched so many innings in this tourney that the Lafayette crowd gave her quite an ovation, which was certainly deserved.

 

Oregon, however, came through their regional undefeated and will play their first game in the Super Regional against UCLA tomorrow at 8:30 pm CST on ESPN.  This too is double elimination, so they will play again on Sunday at 6 pm CST on ESPNU and again at 9 pm CST on ESPNU if a third game is necessary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Strawberry and Softball Season

Lots of rain lately with resulting mud have made it difficult for Gerald to keep his strawberry patch picked as quickly as he’d like.  But that is only because he is a perfectionist; he has done a great job harvesting the lovely and delicious red fruit.

 

Although I really admire his attractive garden that I watch from my kitchen window, I still have not dared venture out and even tried to pick any. When younger,  I have always picked strawberries on my knees.  I know I could eventually get down, but I also know I would have a hard time standing  back up. GRRR. Gerald bends over; and though it hurts, he believes it is strengthening his back.

 

His crop is fantastic providing us berries almost every meal, a freezer full for next winter, usually some in the fridge, and some he is giving away to other family members.  I have helped burr a few, and I have washed and placed the pretty berries into the freezer bags.  I’ve also made lots of shortcake using my mother-in-law’s method. 

 

My mother made strawberry shortcake using pie crust she baked for that use. I think I also remember her serving shortcake to her club members once on the little sponge cakes sold for that purpose. And maybe one year when the Dairy Queen was the newest thing in the nearby town of Anna, I believe she served her club friends the sugared berries over that yummy frozen product--perhaps with a slice of angel food cake along side on the glass desert plate. 

 

When I married Gerald, strawberry season was in full swing, and his father had a wonderful patch. I was amazed to find his mother used crackers instead of pie crust for her shortcake. In the years since, I have used both my mother’s and Gerald’s mother’s method. I also used the little sponge cakes a few times in my early wifehood, and once I baked the shortcake recipe in my wedding gift cookbook.  That was a lot of trouble, and not particularly satisfying.  But for many years, I make shortcake with crackers.  Now I use whole wheat crackers and for Gerald and me, I use Apriva—the sweetener from Kroger. I still use sugar when making it for others as I did the night of the tornado warning when some of the family came over and when I have taken shortcake to Katherine.

 

After watching and following Texas T&M and Oregon’s games last week and weekend, we made a point of listening to the Sunday night announcement where the 64 teams battling for NAAC World Series championship in June will start their journey in the sixteen regionals. A&M will be playing in Lafayette, Louisiana, and Geri Ann will be playing at home in the beautiful new Jane Sanders stadium at Eugene.

 

Although we were saddened, when A&M lost in their first game 5-4 to Louisiana State at the SEC conference tourney on Wednesday, it helped cheer us up that Gerry was able to unexpectedly quickly arrange to go to Eugene for Geri Ann’s senior softball weekend! Her mother was already there, and Tara was able to take her two youngest—Maddux and Payton—to cheer their Aunt GA on.  (Aidan had a baseball game of his own, so Bryan stayed home in Texas with Aidan.)

 

Oregon’s series against Utah started on Thursday night, and it was quite a night!  The Oregon Ducks won the Pac-12 conference for the fourth straight year—matching UCLA, the only other such winner in conference history in the years 1988-91.  Cheridan Hawkins pitched a complete game and beat Utah 5-1 for her 20th victory this season.  Gerry was able to see Geri Ann hit 3 for 3 and was part of the stand-up ovation the crowd gave the Ducks for winning the conference.   

 

Unfortunately, the Ducks lost Friday night when Utah came back for a 3-2 win. Oregon’s  Madi Bishop, a top-100 recruit last season out of Jonesboro, AK, scored both its runs—the first on an error Utah made on Alyssa Gillespie’s single bunt when Bishop raced from first to home.  Bishop later blasted a homerun single over the left fence, but Utah made the last run and won.

 

But Gerry was there Saturday along with Vickie and Tara and the boys to be on the field with Geri Ann before the game when Oregon honored its eight seniors.  Then her family saw Geri Ann belt her solo homer over left field.  Winning the series against Utah, the Ducks won 3-2 when Cheridan Hawkins once more pitched a complete game. Hawkins allowed only two unearned runs, five hits, two walks and had seven strikeouts. Obviously she is ready for the post season.

 

We will be watching at 3:30 CST Friday afternoon when A&M plays Texas on ESPN2. which will be A&M’s 27th appearance in the NCAA tournaments.  And we will be staying up late that night because Oregon plays  Fordham at 10:30 CST on ESPN2.

 

 

 

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