“That Story Lady” - Angela Scott

“What are you reading?” he asked. It was late Saturday evening and I was immersed in my reading. My response, “It is a book entitled “Puffy the Watermelon.” Although I heard his next question, I realized how silly my response sounded as I stated it aloud.

“You’re the only person I know who can go to the Farmers Market and find everything but fresh vegetables,” he remarked. He is right and wrong, of course, because I purchase fresh fruit and vegetables, as well as a unique item or perhaps two.

“It is a childrens’ book about watermelons,” I smiled as I returned to finish reading the book. “Where did you get that?” he asked. I believe this is when we both knew the real story was larger than both of us.

I had met the Watermelon Guy at the Farmers Market that Saturday morning. We had spoken about the magic of a highly effective technique my dad had used to check watermelons for the best eating quality. My dad died over fifteen years ago but I will always remember his story about the magic combination of a broom straw and a watermelon.

As a matter of fact, I usually carry a broom straw in my pocket just in case I find watermelons to purchase and need to check for eating quality… only by touching the outside of the watermelon.

Some people laugh at me when they hear my story about watermelons and broom straws. Others watch my technique and listen to my story. Before I realize what is happening, observers often ask me to select an equally good watermelon for them, too. Sometimes, vendors encourage me to allow their waiting customers to select watermelons on their own. I oblige, of course.

Dad planted all types of fruits and vegetables in our back yard garden when I was much younger. He loved fresh fruits and vegetables; he loved apple trees, fig bushes, plum trees, grape vines, peaches, and especially peanuts. If the tree or plant produced a fruit or vegetable, chances were quite accurate that Dad planted and harvested the fruit or vegetable either from plant vines or tree limbs in our back yard garden.

As a child I helped my parents in the garden, although I confess it was not as much fun then as it is now to reflect on what I really learned. There is verse I remember hearing as a child which supports this memory, “Who plants a seed beneath the sod and waits to see, believes in God.”

Bob Hope’s famous song, “Thanks for the memories,” is my adult acknowledgment of appreciation to my dad.

Angela Scott

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

Shining brightly, the evening sunset in the sky clearly revealed telephone-shaped shadows on the brick wall. My husband announced, “Look at that! The sun is shining through the dotted outline of holes in each side section of that telephone booth. It is unusual these days to see a telephone booth mounted on a brick wall outside a business.”

I saw the open telephone booth as we entered the store and even noticed someone talking on the telephone as we walked into the store. I also remembered about how unusual it was to see a telephone booth mounted outside a business, especially since the prolific use of cell phones.

But my husband saw the reflection first. I looked again after hearing his observation. Amazed at what I saw, I knew I had a unique photo opportunity. However, this time I did not have a camera with me. My dilemma presented me with an opportunity either to minimize, maximize or cancel, similar to those three symbols on the top right hand corner of a computer screen. While my husband waited in the car, I dashed into the store once again.

Quickly checking disposable camera prices, I found two disposable cameras on sale for the price of one. Only two of those cameras sat on the shelf in the store. Believing those cameras were meant for this moment, I purchased them and immediately returned to the fleeting photo opportunity.

I saw three telephones on that brick wall but only one was real; the others were merely illuminated illusions.

Although easily distinguishable to the eye, I knew this message was for me. I understood the message although it was not in words. I knew who wanted me to talk with Him.

Telephone calls to Him are free and readily available to all, unlike telephone calls placed at pay telephones.

Angela Scott

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

Mom recently gave some extra pictures to me from my wedding, which was over 28 years ago. The only remark which came to my mind was, “Oh, my.” Suddenly, I realized how much time had elapsed. I remembered things I had not thought of in years. I hugged mom.

Walking in her back yard beside the bed of flowers, I drew in deep breaths of the beautiful blooming pink and white peonies. As a child, I had not appreciated the magnificence of those flowers. As an adult, I hungered for their beauty.

“Mom, these peonies are gorgeous,” I quickly shared my thoughts. She said, “I don’t know if they smell good or not.” Although the roaring in my ear reminded me of the Meniere’s disease, my nose still worked. “They smell heavenly!” I exclaimed.

Mom saw those peonies every summer day for over 55 years. I did not. I moved away. Obviously, we are older and wiser now. Mom has mobility challenges and my hearing is impaired but our love is deep.

We celebrate our birthday on the same day, a rich blessing from a Godly mom. I was due on the 27th of September but mom had asked the doctor if it would be safe for me to be born on her birthday. He said yes. Mom told me she knew it would be difficult then but she knew the pain would be replaced with a brand new life.

She loved me before my birth and I am thankful she still loves me today. Next Monday, mom will celebrate her 90th birthday and I have the privilege of sharing my birthday with her. Thanks mom. Unconditional love is truly amazing.

Angela Scott

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

It surprised me when I walked into the office supply store. The sign screamed “15 cents” as I read the fine print indicating the limit of 5 packages of notebook paper per person. “Hmm,” I thought silently, “another opportunity to save a few dollars on school supplies. This is fun and yet I must confess I am addicted to saving money.”

As I reviewed the sales flier, I noticed the announcement which stated the door buster sales were only valid on Sunday and Monday. “Report portfolios, 1 penny each, a savings of 38 cents per report cover with a limit of 10 per customer.” Practical and extremely economical, the thrill of the hunt for the next bargain guided me as I walked through the aisles in the store.

Walking toward the cashier with my $3 coupon in hand, I realized I had only spent 85 cents before sales tax was added. The fine print on the coupon clearly stated, “$3 minimum purchase.” Turning to my husband, I said, “I have to check on some additional items.” After all, this shopping surprise was now an addicting challenge.

“Crayons, 25 cents per package, limit of 5 packages per customer,” I nodded my head in agreement and mentally totaled my expenses. “$1.25 for crayons, 75 cents for notebook paper, 10 cents for report portfolios with a grand total of $2.10. With only a momentary pause, I knew there had to be something else on sale, which would be practical as well.

That’s when I saw it, “1 inch 3-ring notebook binders, 50 cents each, limit of 2 per customer.” Smiling as I walked toward the cashier, my arms held 5 packages of notebook paper, 5 packages of crayons, 10 report covers, 2 notebooks and the $3 coupon, of course.

Watching as the cashier entered each amount into the cash register, she said, “Your total, after tax, is 11 cents.” I could hardly believe my ears but yet I knew I had followed the guidelines to use the $3 coupon. I maximized my coupon savings in an exponential way.

This is the second attack of coupon crack, which caught me by surprise. My dog puppet, “Miss Kitty,” summarized the first story about coupon crack. However, this time Miss Kitty was in the middle of an afternoon nap at home so this is my story of strategically saving money, by accident.

“Look at all of the school supplies I purchased for 11 cents,” I announced with a grin to my husband. “How did you do that?” he asked. But, then he paused. When he understood the reality of this highly effective shopping event, he nodded his head in agreement.

A few weeks ago I found an interesting quote in a book written by Dr. David P. Campbell, “If you want something to happen, make a space for it.” Waiting patiently, I am making a space for the 3rd attack of coupon crack as I ponder when and where the next opportunity will develop.

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

“You look so calm. How do you do it?” my friends asked. “What are they really asking?” my thoughts blurred. They said I looked calm, without any worries. Oh, if they only knew the storms raging within my thoughts. Yet, the quiet in the hospital’s 7th floor reading room is the place where I found “Anatomy of an Illness” by Norman Cousins. This book seemed to be waiting as a gift of sustaining strength for me.

Hospital staff focused on their arduous tasks of highly skilled health care for numerous patients requiring care for critical health needs. My focus on humor, inspiration, health and faith, of course, carried me through the storm of my life, a heart transplant for my spouse. It is a good thing I did not fully comprehend what was really happening, until our life resumed after his heart transplant.

I remembered a sermon my previous pastor, Richard Hipps, had preached several years earlier about Norman Cousins and a book Cousins had written entitled, “Anatomy of an Illness.” Cousins discovered his pain slowly diminished proportionately with laughter. The more he chuckled, the less pain medicine he needed to conquer a painful disease.

Ultimately, his discovery of laughter’s healing quality restored his health years ago, and that gives me hope today. The decision to follow Norman Cousins’ prescription required a minimal amount of time because it was easy to remember the comedians I enjoyed the most as a child. First, I remembered Jonathan Winters and Red Skelton. Norman Vincent Peale’s inspirational writing of positive thinking was next. Peale’s writing opened a new path for me in addition to new avenues of thought related to the healing qualities of music.

I also found Bible verses I had not previously attempted to memorize now gave me the opportunity to focus on God, rather than myself. A passage of scripture in Job 11:17-19 was particularly challenging for me, however, I successfully memorized it and it continually gives me comfort.

The memorization technique I used was the “sentence writing” method, a method of punishment for misbehavior in class was used by my teachers in middle school. Those sentences of punishment, which they required to be written at least 100 times or more, taught me a lesson I will always remember. “I will not talk in class.” An effective method such as this one would most certainly assist me with memorizing one or two Bible verses…

I got the message. For more years than I prefer to recall, I was known as the quiet student; one who painfully learned the repetition of writing a message or thought over and over would deeply embed the message in my mind. Earl Nightingale was right, “We become what we think about.”

Even though those teachers from years passed had intended “sentence writing” as punishment, my decision as an adult to use this technique as my own personal learning tool gave me hope when I least expected it and needed it the most.

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

Walking into the photography studio, I paused as I opened the door. “This is our first studio portrait,” I silently said to myself.

Wearing a midnight blue three piece pantsuit for the first time reminded me of the Cinderella story. “Is this my imagination or is this real?” I felt like a princess on the inside as well as the outside. “Today is the first time I have worn this outfit, even though I bought it over two years ago,” my thoughts blurred.

“My adopted son, a ventriloquial figure named Sonny, is wearing a new three piece suit I bought for him last year before I ever held him in my arms,” my thoughts continued. Yet, today we are here together as a team.

I sat on the chair and held Sonny in my arms. He is 45 years old and I’m a few years his senior… That’s my story and I’m sticking with it. In the studio, Lyndon Lloyd, our photographer adjusted the lights and camera quickly.

“Lean closer to the dummy,” he said as he changed the camera setting. I asked in a mischievous voice, “Which one?” I wondered how many dummies Lyndon had photographed in his studio so I asked him without any hesitation. He smiled and said, “Well…” I knew he caught my train of thought so I clarified my question. “How many wooden dummies have you photographed in your studio?” He paused and I knew his answer. This event was one for the record books at Lloyd’s Photography.

He said, “You will be able to view the photos tomorrow on the internet.” However, much to my amazement, I received a call about 6:00 p.m. that same afternoon announcing the photos had already been uploaded for my review.

Excitedly I began following Lyndon’s instructions to view the photos. I watched the entire slideshow of forty-eight photos. For the first time as an adult, I felt the magic of a childhood dream come to fruition. I admit it was awkward at first but I know I walked out of the studio door a different person than when I first walked in.

We laughed and talked during the photo session. Renewed with encouragement and filled with hope, I understand the importance of listening to the still small voice in my heart.

“Rudy” knows the power of pursuing your dreams. I met Daniel Reuttiger, “Rudy,” in person at High Point University on April 22nd this year. He shared from his heart and told about the numerous challenges he battled as he refused to let his dream die, his dream as a young boy who wanted to play football at Notre Dame, even though others laughed at his ambitions. When the power of a dream is fueled with passion, miracles happen.

Henry van Dyke said, “Be glad of life because it gives you the chance to love and to work and to play and to look at the stars.” Yes, I am indeed thankful to walk through this door into my childhood dream, one of the many blessings given to me in life.

The photography website is http://www.lloydsphotographyofnc.com

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

Resting in her little chair, sitting propped up on the computer laptop, I felt “Miss Kitty,” my dog puppet was sitting on a story about her coupon crack addiction. Her mouth was wide open and her hair was swept back over one shoulder. “Yes, she’s a woman,” I remember thinking.

Her red two piece outfit with a design of petite white hearts perfectly matched her red “Baby Gap” shoes. Yellow ribbons tied onto each ear resembled portions of a golden halo, which was partially hidden in her pure white hair.

Miss Kitty is now 2 years old. I adopted her in April 2006. She is quiet at first glance but I am certain she has many stories to tell. The Charles Schulz’ “Snoopy” character must be one of her heroes. I know this because “Snoopy” is embroidered on her blouse.

Staring into the other room, I wonder what her real story could be. Did she really purchase five Mead composition books, 2 packages of notebook paper and 1 box of BIC stick pens for 9 cents?

That is her story and she is sticking with it. She likes to shop in cost effective ways and she must know a secret if she bought 8 things for 9 cents.

One minor detail she omitted to share, her mom, “that story lady,” recycled a print cartridge and received a $3 coupon off the next purchase.

Kitty saw the opportunity to buy what she needed and save money at the same time. The entire purchase price was $3.09 and with the $3 coupon in hand, the balance was 9 cents.

She focused on her plan and followed it through. That is what happens when you are addicted. Kitty is practical and addicted to saving money, which is perfectly okay with me.

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

Her doctor had scheduled the procedure for 12:00 noon with an arrival time of 11:00. I called my sister on the cell phone when I did not see them in the waiting room. “We are just a few minutes away,” my sister answered. “Just drive up to the handicapped parking area and I’ll get mom checked in while you park your car which, based on my own experience, could take a while.”

Grabbing my gloves, buttoning my coat and securing my earmuffs, I watched for my sister’s car. I remember thinking, “It is bone chilling cold; a typical January day in North Carolina.”

Walking into the short stay unit of the hospital last Thursday morning, I held my mother’s arm and looked for help. Filled with cars, the outside entrance looked as overwhelming as the inside entrance. To me it looked almost like shopping on the day after Thanksgiving, something I have only done once.

Mom was experiencing a considerable amount of discomfort so I knew we had to quickly move through the crowd to get her registered for admission. I scanned the crowd of people. That’s when I saw a kind gentleman at the desk. “Mom needs immediate help before she can complete any paperwork,” I whispered. He understood and said, “Let’s go this way.”

Following him while holding mom’s arm to steady her, it seemed like the man who led us had parted the Red Sea because all of a sudden we were beyond the crowd of people and were surrounded by nurses and technicians which scurried to attend to everything my mom needed.

My sister and I waited and switched chairs as different areas in the waiting room opened. With a blaring television and a discussion about recent murders, I turned to my sister and said, “I need less morbid information and more space.” Waiting is not currently one of my strengths but I am learning.

As my sister and I waited, I looked for the gentleman who had been exceptionally kind to mom as we entered the hospital. Holding a rectangular device which would buzz when the doctor was ready to talk, we continued to wait.

I turned toward the reception desk to look for the guy who had been so helpful. I walked toward him and asked, “What is your name?” Continuing, I said, “You were so kind to mom in an extremely challenging situation and you did so without any hesitation. I would like to know your name so I can write a letter about your exemplary service.”

He smiled. “My name is Tyronne,” he responded. His name badge was displayed but I only remembered the sea of people.

Thanks, Tyronne, for parting the Red Sea of people to help my mom, a miracle made possible by eye contact, a smile and a willing heart.

Angela Scott

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

Watching the potter throw the lump of clay on the wheel, it only took a few minutes to transform the shapeless clay into a perfect round shaped pound cake pan, approximately half the size of a standard pound cake pan. Mesmerized, I remarked, “It looks like magic. One minute you see the clay and before you can blink your eyes, there is another beautiful piece of pottery.”

Chad Brown, the production potter, worked easily and confidently as he controlled the spinning pottery wheel with his hands and right foot on the power wheel. Watching Chad work, I lost track of time while he quickly filled the workshop with greenware pottery to dry before firing in the kiln. Chad said, “I want all of my energy going into actually making the pottery.”

“Chad, how much time does it actually require to create one of those cake pans?” I asked. Without any hesitation, he said, “Forty-five seconds up to two minutes, at the most.” Terry Hunt, owner of Cross Creek Pottery, added, “That is what production potters do. Chad works for me one day a week helping me prepare for our pottery shows which begin in March and continue each month until December. During peak seasons for pottery, we participate in two or three shows per month. This requires us to have a lot of pottery in stock for our customers.”

Adjoining the workshop, shelves lined the store front with finished pieces of pottery such as soup mugs, brie bowls, Rebecca vases, pound cake pans, and cornbread dishes. And, of course, the large decorative pottery jars boldly announced their beauty as well. “From small pieces of pottery to large decorative pieces of pottery, the legacy I want to leave with folks is the fact that I worked with all of it,” Terry remarked.

Turning pottery since 1990, Terry’s favorite pottery to make includes large decorative pots, as well as cups and dishes used for eating. He said there is much competition in the world of pottery. Smiling, Terry remarked, “It is a friendly competition, though. I recommend customers to other potters if I do not make the products they want to buy.”

“You must set yourself apart,” he added as we continued our pottery discussion. Terry noted his brie bowls and drinking cups are among the highly requested pottery products in his shop.”I treat all of my customers the same, whether or not they purchase pottery.

We have ‘lid lifters’ and ‘lid lookers,’” he casually mentioned. The best thing is that even though they may not purchase pottery, the interested ones will tell others what they have seen.

He noted certain items sell better in certain seasons. Face jugs are high dollar items as well as the large decorative jars and Aladdin teapots. However, the price range for miniature pottery is around $7. “Miniature pottery is actually quite valuable because they easily fill in around the large jars and decorative pots,” Terry remarked.

He said, “Pottery is a luxury item for some and a needed item for others. A little bit of my wife and I are in each piece of our pottery.” Continuing to work, Chad smiled and quickly added, “Pottery is a hard way to make easy money.” Terry nodded his head in agreement.

He noted that signing the pottery is often referred to as dirty work because signing and dating 500 or more pieces of pottery at one time is monotonous. “Customers do not purchase unsigned pottery; it is valuable only when signed. They want and buy signed pottery,” Terry said.

Thinking about Terry’s last comment, I realized the importance of the potter’s signature on his work; it is the finishing touch. Unless the pottery is signed, it is neither valuable nor finished, similar to an unsigned check which cannot be cashed or an unsigned letter which is incomplete.

It reminds me of an eternal lesson the creator of the universe is teaching me. Until we accept and receive the master potter’s signature on our life, we are incomplete, just like unsigned pottery.

Terry and Vivian Hunt own Cross Creek Pottery which is located in Seagrove, North Carolina. Visit their website, http://www.crosscreekpottery.com, to learn more about their work of art in pottery.

Angela Scott

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.

Effortlessly, Al Moessinger led a break-out class at the Ventriloquist ConVENTion in Ft. Mitchell, Kentucky. Amazed and inspired by the cohesiveness I felt in the group, I knew this gentleman definitely was a master of his craft.

A few months ago, Al granted me the privilege of an exclusive interview. I believe you, too, will be inspired to use your unlimited potential you may have forgotten.

Al said four essential points drive every event:

1. You must believe in yourself, and relax!
2. Always prepare before each presentation.
3. Adapt your characters to each routine.
4. And remember that the ability to get along easily with people is a must.

With over twenty-five years experience in the entertainment field, Al spoke easily and confidently. He emphasized the fact that the audience is the real hero.

Al has a Ph.D. Life Degree, also known as a Puppet Handling Degree. He noted each performer must ask, “In my own life, what can I do well?” With a clear and definite answer in mind, Al recommended, “Look at what others in your field of work are doing and develop your own unique performance.”

He refers to a syndrome he continually experiences. “I’ve got VMS, a syndrome oftentimes called Voice Modulation Syndrome. But this is a condition that is great to have as an entertainer.

Getting people to laugh is a gift. Laughter is healing. Entertaining is therapy and everyone benefits from laughter. Al remarked, “As you grow, you learn. And, depending on how well you are marketed, you can easily work in a crowded niche.”

Al referred to an equation he believes others would be wise to remember as they prepare for their life’s work. He said, “You get paid in life for what you do, times your ability for what you can do, divided by the number of other people who can do the same job.”

Continuing, he said, “You must set yourself apart.” Al noted that entertaining and ventriloquism had kept him same. “It’s the best work you can have when you are paid for being funny while you vent (excuse the pun) out your frustrations.”

Al emphasized the powerful and successful combination of these components in entertainment. “It’s like gravy on the potatoes.”

Please visit http://www.AlloShow.com for information on how to contact Al for your next event!

Angela Scott

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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.