Dad's are there, there for the important things and the not so important.

They try their best to make memories for their kids to last a lifetime.

But really, it's just being there e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y. ~ in their lives that's really important.

You never realize the moments that mean the most are the quiet ones when no one is looking. Soaking up the sweetness of life, storing up the time that is so fleeting.

Dad's are just there, they are a given. They pick us up, they hold our hand, they are the ones we go to when we need advice or a hug.

In our hearts we hold those memories close. They are delicious, like the best chocolate cake!

Years may pass... but the memories are there forever in our hearts.

Never to be lost~

Saved and filed!

Happy Father's Day Sweetie!

Seven rows back, four seats over...

I could close my eyes and make the drive to Harrison, the curvy road takes me through Huntsville and Marble, Alpena and Bear Creek Springs. All "just wide spots in the road" as Daddy used to say. Many family members have called Harrison home for 5 generations now. Both Mom and Dad were natives of Boone County and loved living there.

It's one of those old southern towns that still has a thriving square, people come and shop, waving hello to friends they spot in the courtyard. The Boone County Courthouse has been there since 1908, replacing the first one (built in 1870) that burned. That's tradition, that's commitment, that's love of community.

Small towns like Harrison somehow find the money to fund their budget, take care of roads and build monuments to honor those who have served their country. Daddy was one of those men.

The old Lyric where we watched Rosemary's Baby and True Grit was right there, untouched by the past 40 years thanks to the hard work of the Ozark Arts Council. Sheer luck put us in the right place at the right time and Vive Allen was kind enough to give us our own personal tour of the old Lyric Theater.

From the moment we walked in the door, the memories of that place were everywhere! Jeff Christenson flipped on the lights at the old concession stand  and it was like stepping back in time.

The seats, the stage, the screen... all the same. Even the clock on the wall advertising Lena Frances Flower Shop where I worked was still there!

One of the most fascinating things about the Lyric's history are the murals on the walls of the auditorium. Painted by hobos, they were done during the Great Depression in exchange for food and shelter. 

In America, the true hobo was basically a hard working man of many trades and many talents who wandered the country in search of work.  He laid and repaired railroad track, harvested wheat, cut down trees, mined for gold, herded cattle, built bridges and then moved on. When the Depression hit this country and the times swung from prosperous to destitute, these hard times produced the hobo that we often think of today.  

Seven rows back, four seats over... that's where we held hands almost every Saturday night!

Sunday Drives

Back in the 1950's there was a popular pastime that Americans would do on Sunday Afternoons. Daddy would say, "Let's take a drive," and we would pile into the car with no particular destination in mind. We would drive for hours, taking back roads just to see where they would go! I imagine we would get lost from time to time, but Daddy never let us know that. We’d go over the mountain and through the woods, there was a lot of country then!

I remember the big back seat feeling like a living room couch to me. Cars in the 1950's were big, Queen Mary Big! I think we had an Oldsmobile, I remember the air conditioning  would freeze you out, so we always had the windows down on the hot summer days. Daddy would push out his wing glass to "cut the noise." We would drive out to Lake Springfield or East toward the Nixa Hills. I had to watch the road carefully, as I was a kid that got car sick easily. Once my tummy got upset, the trip was ruined.

Most of our drives would end at the Dairy Queen on Sunshine, but the trip before the ice cream was always an adventure! It was not an expensive outing, it was just the time together we spent as a family, talking and laughing.

Gas was 25 cents a gallon, but the memories are worth a million dollars!