The Angel Flies

Angels can be anywhere and can be anybody – isn’t that so?

I mean the Bible (NASB) says in Hebrews 13:2, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

My daughter is a stranger to many and at times, even to me.  I ponder, who is this child with such a thirst and hunger for “God’s Word?”  On occasion she had corrected my meaning of His word.

She seems to get irritable knowing things about the Bible that I don’t.  Me? I just marvel at her heavenly knowledge.  Which of course makes me delve deeper into the Word.

From a very young age I had bought her books, some illustrated, about stories in the Bible. Also purchased were some of the sixty-six separate books of the big Bible. They were paperbacks read and reread countless times. Stephanie’s favorites of the books purchased were Genesis and Samuel and I answered her questions as well as I could.

But then, she was told to read them over again and again because they were alive with God’s teachings. “The Living Bible,” always fresh, new and yes…exciting.

“You will usually get a different way of looking at the same problem. I always did and I still do.”

But I ask you…was it any wonder that those books were her favs?    I think not because there is much action taking place.  In Genesis it all began. The universe was formed and there were seven days of creation taking place. Man was created.  Woman was made from man. The Garden of Eden, and we’re all familiar with what happened there.  Cain and Abel – Noah’s Ark – the Flood – the flood subsides and:

 Then Noah built an altar to the Lord, and took of every clean animal and of every clean bird and offered burnt offerings on the altar. 21 The Lord smelled the soothing aroma; and the Lord said to Himself, “I will never again curse the ground on account of man, for the intent of man’s heart is evil from his youth; and I will never again destroy every living thing, as I have done.

22 “While the earth remains,
Seed-time and harvest,
And cold and heat,
And summer and winter,
And day and night
Shall not cease.


All of that took place during the first eight chapters of the fifty chapter book. You have the rainbow in nine. Ten gives the descendants of Noah and as you get deeper into the book you’ll read about Abram (Abraham) and his son Ishmael born of the maidservant and Isaiah born of Sarah his wife.  Abram’s journey to Egypt – Joseph’s story…oh there is just so much in that one book!

I am reading it again even as I write these words and, oh my goodness…it feels like the first time. The book is entertaining.  Best of all, it is all true.

And another true event is Thanksgiving.  Stephanie flew to New York via Chicago to spend this week with her mother.  She made it safely because I was sent photos.





A girl by the name of, Donna, stopped over last night. She came to check out my flavored pasta sauce because she’d heard (info gets spread quickly here in Clever.) about the delicious aroma wafting through the air, emanating from this place.

She came to the front door even though the garage door was opened wide, being polite I guess. The young lady (well young to me) in her late thirties – early forties introduced herself and pointed to where she lived. Just two doors up and on the other side of the street.

“It’s good to see you guys are doing great! Hi,” she said to Steph through the screen. Stephanie feigned interest as she replied with a “Hello” and headed to her room and more drawing.

Donna continued, “Wow you are such a great cook! Neighbors talk about the wonderful scent, maybe you can teach me? Last night i cooked sauce with diced chicken. Also, I included onions and peppers with some really twirly pasta.”

“Probably Rotini Pasta” I replied. “Sounds great! Maybe you better give me lessons.”

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, “I’m cooking Quiche, bacon Quiche, with a Raspberry Truffle for dessert. I enjoy cooking and have a passion for cooking so I experiment at times.”

“That is the best thing to do,” I said, “I would be glad to be your taste-tester and especially tomorrow because I love Quiche and all kinds. I’ve never had a bad one!”

“l have to leave for work now. They’ve got me on the graveyard shift over at the recycling place in Republic. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. Please give my regards to Stephanie.”

“Well it’s sure been nice talking to you. Let’s get together soon…maybe for that Quiche, give me a call. And it was sure nice meeting you also. Don’t work too hard, bye.


Happy Birthday, Dad!

Dad died on my birthday in 2014.  Was there any significance in that? Was it a warning of some sort? A weird coincidence? Those thoughts have been among the many as I wish Dad a happy birthday, in Heaven. I know Dad is in heaven because he was saved through the grace of God, because his wife was”Born Again.”

1 Corinthians 7:14 English Standard Version (ESV) 14 For the unbelieving husband is made holy because of his wife, and the unbelieving wife is made holy because of her husband. Otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is, they are holy.

Dad was not unbelieving but he was not pure either.  See, I know without a doubt of his happiness with Mom as they rise each morning in each other’s arms.  They had a strong love for one another while here on earth. They imparted knowledge and goodness in the hearts of their children. They now care for each other the day long while they go about their tasks.

Always happy Dad with little Steph whom he teased, “You’re pretty, almost pretty as me.”

Dad was also taught the crudeness of this world at a young age (thirteen) and worked nearly everyday until his death at age eighty-four.  He loved work and that’s what he did his whole life…Saturday, Sunday, it made no difference to him and as a matter-of-fact seven days a week were best. He had to quit school and get a job after his parochial days had come to an end.  An eighth grade education. No high school.

Dad couldn’t understand people retiring, “What the hell do they do all day?”

He passed life-lessons on to those who would listen and did so in in a lighthearted way.  Dad had a grand understanding of the way of the world. That understanding left his heart stained and blocked God from working real blessings in his life.  He was a good man. Dad’s integrity was unshakable, fair and just.

He made many happy customers from all walks of life – and through each business he owned.  He was never a pretentious man. He made many friends and associates through his, home decorating services, and carpet store. Long after most of his colleagues and friends had either retired or died – our dad bought and turned a doomed restaurant into a success, his age, eighty-one.

Dad’s Pizza pie at his Romolo’s restaurant, love you, Dad.

Dad possessed the Midas touch and was successful with his decorating business – his carpet store – and his restaurant.  The latter was his ruin; in part for wanting to care for everybody.  Bothered greatly that he was unable to assuage everybody’s problems, he went to be with Dorothy in Heaven.

Though raised a Catholic (was even an altar boy at Saint Pat’s) he turned on the Catholic faith because of what he and his eventual wife (Dorothy) were told by the priest before marrying.  When the priest told Dad that he had to sign a paper pledging to raise their children in that faith…Dad would not do it.  He wouldn’t allow anybody to tell him how to raise his kids, not yet here.

Christmas, 1968, Peggy, me, Dad, Linda and David
Dad standing behind me and my siblings…Christmas long ago

Me and my siblings knew of the parent’s sincerity to each other.  They were just two young kids starting out.  Doing the best they knew how and even with their foibles they were exceptional parents, always setting a good example.  When Mom or Dad had a hard time with anything at all, it was each other they looked to, and received their comfort from.

Happy Birthday, Dad!


Autumn 1947 - 18 years
1948 – My handsome father


1948 - 17 years

My beautiful mother –



’37 Chev Master Deluxe

“Steve – get up!”  Mom didn’t have to say anything to wake me because I was already up and ready for school.  I was a junior in high school in 1971 but had gotten my driver’s license a year earlier on my sixteenth birthday.  I was already on my third car.

37 chev 3_4 view front and back

My love of cars continues to this day. I used to change them – sometimes two in the same year, and, I imagine each one was beautiful for some untold reason.  Nowadays I get five years out of a car before getting the itch to buy a new one.  I always bought in extremes, you know, from an older one to a newer one – from a big one to a small one – a foreign one to bigger and more comfortable domestic model – from a luxury, large “vette-looking” ’66 Olds Toronado to a tiny, but brand new Datsun B210.

Somewhere along the line a group of us thrill-seeking kids began playing chicken with our cars.  You know how the game is played? Two people in two different cars aim them at each other and floor it…the first one to veer off is a chicken. We played a different version.  We drove through the five car wash bays – in different directions and as fast as the cars would allow.  The first to back speedily away was chicken.  I had more guts with the older cars, but this new one didn’t have a scratch or dent on it.  I was chicken, but not for myself.  I wanted to protect the new car.  Nobody was afraid of that lightweight thing.  I earned my quick reactionary defensive driving skills from that time.

My next venture was naturally the other extreme though I hung onto the new car and bought a beat up ’57 Chevy pickup with a half-inch steel plate for the front bumper with three rubber tires wrapped vertically on it.  I riveted window-wells for fenders in the back and spray-painted it all a cloud grey. Now who wants to play chicken? Nobody did.

I sold the pick-up and bought the 1937 Chev Master Deluxe four-door with the gangster (real gangster) running boards.  The suicide-doors were a real touch of class. style. The car was, as far as I could tell, all original except that it was painted with a  flat grey primer just waiting for the lustrous paint job.

A small hump ran the width of the trunk and down to the bumper. The windshield wipers were vacuum powered and worked ridiculously. I mean, if you gave the car gas they would swish furiously, but otherwise there was a long pause in between swipes.

No, Mom didn’t need to wake me that morning all those years ago.  That was the first day Dad allowed me to drive that car to school so I was readily excited.  I went to pick up my friend, Jerry. Just as I pulled into his long driveway the gangster car killed.   Jerry had been my friend since we were in diapers. His mom used to change them while we were in the nursery at Hayden Height’s Baptist Church.

“Hey Legs…” my nickname when driving this car.  Legs in actuality was a nickname for  Jack Diamond.   “Legs Diamond” was one of the celebrated gangsters from that era.  Diamond was known for leading a flamboyant lifestyle, and he enjoyed being seen at nightclubs. He was a womanizer, and his best known mistress was showgirl and dancer Marion “Kiki” Roberts. The public loved Diamond, and for a time he was a media darling.  Legs Diamond

It’s unclear how he obtained the nickname “Legs,” but it’s generally believed it was derived either from his being a good dancer or from his uncanny ability to escape his enemies. I liked a photo of him wearing a suit with a diamond stick pin in his tie. I wanted the whole 30’s gangster look while driving the car.  I even wore a white fedora to keep up appearances.

I told Jerry how the car had killed when I pulled in his driveway and that I couldn’t get it started again.  We, or I got out and stood next to Jerry looking at the antique engine.

He said, “You get back in and when I tell you to turn it over go ahead and try it.”

His dad sauntered out of the one-car tiny garage and came over to see what was going on then told me, “I used to have one of these back in ’39.  What seems to be the problem?”

He probably did have one back then.  Jerry’s dad, John, was seventy years old. Heck Jerry’s oldest brother was my dad’s age (about 40). Dad was often looked upon as my  brother and when customers said that aloud he would always quip, “Yeah and I’m the youngest!”

Jerry’s dad was calm about the situation. If it were my dad, hands would have been flying to accompany his swearing tongue and no doubt the car would have been punched many times. My dad was a helluva guy but he didn’t have patience nor did he desire to do so much as change the oil on a car.  Dad paid to have all automobile work done and he liked it that way.  He commanded good fees for his services and never complained about what another charged.  He was a true-blue capitalist.

John asked me if I still had the crank for it?

“Really? It’s got a crank? I didn’t think they made them for a car this new.”

“Aaah, I used one many times on this model.”    We rummaged through the trunk and sure enough, he found one.

John had me and Jerry try it per his instructions, but we couldn’t do it.

Then I noticed him smelling the air and he matter-of-factly said, “It’s flooded. Let it sit for about five minutes and then try it again.”

He cranked it after positioning it just right and a couple cranks later – vroom, vroom. I was excited and thanked him.

John said, “I better follow you boys to school in case it breaks down again.”

He had just given it a fast, temporary fix but it held to get us to school and to make some rounds through the parking lot with kids jumping on the running boards and jumping off at the door to school.










“Corner Cafe”

My daughter and I just moved to Clever from Nixa and we attend Riverdale Baptist Church. Our pastor (Jamie Bilyeu) recommended this place as he has eaten here a number of times. Last Sunday morning we decided to give the, “Corner Cafe” a try before heading onto morning worship service.

We are so glad we made the stop. The little cafe was filled and as soon as one got up from the table, there was another to take their place (the sign of a good restaurant). We only had to wait a couple minutes – it was worth the short wait!

However, I am a slow eater and so only ordered their raisin toast which came already buttered (fantastic), and was a perfect compliment to their coffee.

My daughter on the other hand really enjoyed their cheese omelette and that omelette included tasty hash-browns as well. Stephanie said, “That was really good Dad. How many eggs did they use?” Apparently, theirs was better-tasting than my three egg omelette, oh well.

We completed our meals at the same time and we had to hurry off to church. We will be returning maybe for a dinner but breakfast for sure.

Leong’s Asian Diner

I mentioned the other day about visiting, Leong’s Asian Diner, in Springfield, MO. Well this is a brief follow-up on that restaurant…This may have been said before but the the ambiance of the place contributed to the tastiness of their food, I’m sure.  Their relaxing atmosphere reminded me of my favorite seaside restaurant in the Philippines.

Without knowing the history of, or the owner of Leong’s, I can only tell of our experience. I appreciated being offered our choice of teas to drink instead of of bombardment of alcoholic beverages, which they also had. I ordered the sweetened tea while Stephanie ordered a raspberry iced tea. She told me it didn’t taste any different than a sweet tea and yet we were charged a dollar more for it? That was the only negative of the experience.

Stephanie had a cup of Egg Drop Soup that she said was, “Yummy,” even with vegetables. “You might even like this soup Dad.” It was a chicken and egg soup simmered in a velvety soy chicken broth.

But, I had a large dinner salad with cherry-like tomatoes and my favored Bleu-Cheese Dressing. The salad was scrumptious! After that we were served our main entrees’.

Stephanie’s, Sweet & Sour Chicken topped with a tangy sauce that was sprinkled with shaved carrots and pineapples. That meal included rice and was served first and it looked delicious, Steph, said that it was.

Next, i was served my entree’ of Cashew Chicken with rice. It was fantastic! The perfect amount of thicker, delectable sauce and Cashews. Stephanie of course finished before me…everybody does. I was filling up, but it was so tasty, that I ate every morsel.

Then the dessert arrived, a decadent, strawberry cheesecake that Stephanie was unable to finish…so not wanting to send anything back…I made myself eat that remaining delectable dessert.

We will be back because in part of Jonathan, our server who was but one of the busy wait people.🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂

Home of the Original Springfield Style Cashew Chicken!

Boho Love

“Boho Love” is the love of boho fashions.  I am not a gypsy, nor a hippie, nor a Bohemian but I did have romances with all three. Those love-ins qualify me as an expert, right?

In those days – the 1960’s & 70’s nobody was out to set fashion statements.  One just purchased what the department stores and shops were selling.  Who knew that 30-40 years later those bell-bottom jeans 8c0d6e693830c205c8291bce77c39588would become the epitome of a generation of kids?

Some of the styles hint at eroticism without going there.  These lady models have nice figures – no bulbous butts here. It is a fashion sense that seems to have been born of the Internet.

The Gypsy:  The original gypsy came from Northern India but are now on all continents. Traditionally, gypsies lived by doing seasonal work and…fortune-telling.  They wandered from place to place and had their own style, though, Gypsies of yore never thougHippie girlht about being stylish; they wore what they had.  Now their dress has been glorified and modified to sell.

Hippy: Someone who rejects the established culture.  Their attire has been glorified in recent years and has become an integral part of the BOHO look.Bohemian, hippie, gypsy style.

Bohemian:  A vagabond, wanderer or gypsy, a person (such as a writer or an artist) living an unconventional life usually in a colony with others. Well you get the idea and the feel and can certainly see the similarities…..