Good Mind To Keep You (If Youll Stay) - Robinson Treacher - Porches (CD, Album)
I know he was devastated when he lost Joey. I got to work with Gary at a Bull Riding in Oklahoma. He had the ability to really bring the house down. I spent about an hour with him at a western store before the shindig. He seemed so down to earth and enjoying life. He will be missed for sure. God Bless him. Tommy Don Hardeman. Drink one for me Gary-wherever you are… And thanks. There are only a few true artists that have that something special. Gary Stewart had it.
I will always miss that unique Stewart warble. God bless him and the family. Barry jackson. From as far back as i can remember the first musician i listened to was Gary Stewart. He will always be remembered as one of the greatest county-western singers of all time. The loss of Gary Stewart will never be forgotten.
His music and talent continues to lighten my days and nights. After reading through the tributes posted on this site, I felt compelled to write something. This is the first time I have been able to look at the internet sites about Gary since his passing. Each one of these Good Mind To Keep You (If Youll Stay) - Robinson Treacher - Porches (CD writers have taken the time to express their sympathy, their love of his music, the memories he gave them…etc.
This is exactly what Gary was all about. His life was entertaining people. I have read several articles written by people who claimed to have Gary all figured out. I could retire. Gary drank less than most of us……. These tributes to Gary have turned the tables. They are actually a tribute to his fans. This is a testimonial of their loyalty and dedication.
He was truly the greatest and maybe its because of his talent or maybe because he enjoyed the luxury of the greatest fans. Nobody misses Gary any more than I do and I never pass up a chance to talk about him. Anyone who wants to chat about Gary, send me an Email at HankWestern aol. Terry P. I saw Gary at a concert in a small place in Wichita Falls, Tx my hometown. He had played here many times and this was the only one I could attend.
I am 34 now. Its kinda ironic how I decided to look for him on the internet tonight. I couldnt imagine a better way to spend eternity!!
All of our love, you are missed, Craig Shenista. He made Honkytonkin fun! May he rest in peace. Please, to anyone who has something of his autographed boots, hat, etc. I found a straw Resistol hat with what I think is his autograph and I would like to confirm it if possible. Alan grapejuice dakotart. I first heard the Out of Hand album in My mother, five sisters, and two brothers and I are all fans of the incomparable Gary Stewart.
I understand from reading the tributes above that many other people feel the same as we do about him. I wish his family and close friends the best. How sad that he took his life. I remember not liking country music too much at the time, as most of my friends were into KISS and Nugent. Now when I remember that dusty old shop and the days spent there helping my dad, all those songs start replaying in my mind.
Anyone who listens to Garys music will know that he was a talented man. He had his own sound for music. I grew up in eastern Kentucky not far from where Gary was born. I live in Pike County which borders Letcher County where he lived. People around here still listen to his music as if every song he sung was a top 10 hit. We would not trade his style of music here for any other in existence. All you have to do is ask people around here who is one of the greatest singers of all time and you will hear Gary Stewart a lot.
I wish that things could have been different for him in his life as something had to bother him for him to do what he did. He came here many times in his career performing at Marlows Country Palace.
We no longer have Gary here on earth but his legacy will never die. I have listen to Gary since I grew up with is music. I seen him the last time he played The Top Rail. He put on an awsome show. To his Texas Honky Tonk Band…. He put everything he had into his music, he was one of the all time honky-tonk greats.
He will be missed, but his music will live on forever. The shadows on your walls hanted you not so long, It must of felt like forever sence shes been gone. Fly away spirt soar your way home back in her arms where you belong yesterdays gone your not alone yesterdays gone your finaly home In Memory of the true love and music of Mary Lou Stewart and Gary Stewart Melissa Lynan Hamilton Williams Copyright. I ordered a double cd and recieved it just weeks ago and was just listening to it with my cousin last week.
We were talking about what a great musician he was. I was just looking for a website to get tour information so I could see him again when I came across this notice. We will miss him. What a terrible tradgedy. Gary Stewart was my cousin. I never knew he was my cousin for a long time until 2 years ago. I love his music. He was a great man and just had troubles in his life that he couldnt get past.
I will always remember him. My grandmother actually talks to his mother often. Back in he performed in Kayenta Monument Valley at a rodeo school and as a kid I admired his ability to sing great songs. Many were impressed and to this day many still are. He wowed his mixed audience with his great music and when he took a break, he mingled with his fans. I got a chance to meet him and he actually put his arm around me and we walked to a concession stand where we shared a soda and talked.
He kissed me on the cheeck and returned to the stage. That was the last time I saw him. I will always treasure that moment. Thank you Gary…you will be greatly missed. Love you always. I discovered Gary Stewart in the evenings listening to An extremly under appreciated Hontytonk Mastermind. My brother Justin and I would ride around for hours in the back woods of Central Texas having many cold beers wishing we could be half of what Gary Stewart was.
Seeing him two times is as good as it will get, but it could never be enough. I will miss hearing new music from Gary. God Bless you. I think I have every song Gary Stewart recorded. His music has traveled with me since cassette players first went into cars and now he travels with me on CDs. I never saw him in person, only on TV, but his unique voice and delivery giving it all he have never failed to reach a special part of me. I read about his death in a Country magazine in January a month after it happened and it was a shock to my heart.
I wish he had known how much he meant to so many people — never accurately reflected by recognition in Nashville. May he rest in peace — the prayers of many go with him. I only had the oppurtunity to see Gary live twice, although I have been listening to his music since the mid 70,s.
He seldom played Georgia. I never met him although I understand he was very friendly and approchable. Gary was so talented, I can,t believe he is gone. Does anyone know who is playing steel guitar on Live at Biily Bobs Texas? As far as My Husband and I am concerned, Gary Stewart was one of the greatest singers of all time and his shoes can never be filled. He never recieved the credit that he truely deserved.
And that is just naming 2 of his many wonderful songs. He was a real country music singer that sung from the heart, not like the songs you hear on the radio today. His music will never die around our home.
It will be passed on from generation to generation. In the words of Tom T. Sorry to see Gary go in such a manner. Gary gave the single worst live vocal performance that I have ever heard by anyone to this day. I could not believe that he survived that performance to go onto a great career. How shocked i was! I love Gary Stewarts Music there is no one and i mean no one i would rather listen to.
I called my brother to tell him Gary Stewart was on as we both love him. Then this morning he called and said he forgot to ask me if i knew of his death? You could have knocked me over. After all tis time and i had never heard a thing,and i always listen to country stations. What in the heck are they thinking?
I am so discusted about it i think i will stop listening to it altogether. Find all the Gary Stewart I can and only listen to him. Iwill miss him along with all the others. All Good Mind To Keep You (If Youll Stay) - Robinson Treacher - Porches (CD my family have always listened to county and I grew up on it, along the way I strayed a bit, but I always come back to it and there was nothing better than seening my legends play live in concert.
You are gone, but not forgotten…your music will forever live on. Thank you for all the wonderful memories. No one will ever replace Gary Stewart and his drankin songs. Does anyone know the paper in Palm Beach that ran his orbit or know where I could find a copy.
I believe Gary Stewart had the greatest voice of any country singer ever!! He was the true definition of a honky tonk singer. Gary Stewart was a traditional country artist loved and appreciated in Texas. His twang and heartfelt pain penetrated his music and unfortunately is what made it so good. I was lucky enought to do his entro at several concerts and put away more than a few drinks with Good Mind To Keep You (If Youll Stay) - Robinson Treacher - Porches (CD and his band.
He was one of a kind. I always introduced him as a country legend. In my mind he always will be. I have had his greatest hits album for years and play it every day. I sing karaoke in a bar in Butler, Mo. I caught the school bus in his front yard. I was young then but had been listening to his music since I was knee high to a grass hopper!! Saw a few of his shows a few times over the years at small venues, enjoyed them very much. The best beer drinking music ever.
Last nite by mistake I downloaded a song by Gary Stewart so I thought I really liked the music so I thought I would look up on the internet and damn made me mad he had died. My lord he sounds so good such a waste of talent but I pray to meet him one day with our lord to thank him for giving us such beautiful music. I got to talk to him for awhile and he was such a pleasent person. I told him that because of him and his music I enjoyed country music. I still listlen to his music every chance I have.
I even sing and play his songs on my guitar always. I am surely proud to have read all of these tributes to my talented uncle Gary…. He really is at rest knowing your appreciaton…. Thanks for the admiraton of his unique work here on Earth. His family will miss him too!!! I am sad to say that before this year, I have never heard of Gary Stewart.
I was working on my genealogy one day and a cousin of mine told me that Gary was a distant cousin of mine. Boy, I was in a surprise! I have to admit that Gary is one of the most talented country musicians of all time. His voice is pure soul. When you hear his music, you can feel that he is singing straight from the heart and not just the sheet. I am now a hooked Gary Stewart fan. I wish I would have known more about him sooner.
His music is to the heart and has meaning. Rest in peace cousin Gary. You will be missed! Unbeleivable, I just heard of Gary Stewarts death yesterday.
CMT and the likes should be ashamed to let something like that go by with out some kind of tribute. My band Front Row opened for Gary at Desperados in Humble Texas about 12 years ago and I will never forget that night and how gracious he was to us and all the fans, and as usual for a Gary Stewart show, the club was standing room only.
He was always underapreciated and undisputedly the greatest Honky Tonk singer since Hank. Gary we will miss you buddy. I was born and raised in Southeastern Oklahoma. Still live there. She would have them cranked up while she sat at her sewing machine.
I had a cousin who was older than I was, but we were real close. He went through a divorce and i would go spend time while he was crying in his beer trying to get over it I was going through a pregnancy as a single mother also and Gary Stewart was out choice of tunes. I stayed home for 4 weeks with my first son.
From the beginning I danced him around our kitchen and dining room to the music of Gary Stewart. He became spoilt to it and that was the only way you could get him to sleep. In doing so, I have put myself through lots of hell, and i can relate to most of his songs. Gary Stewart can bring an instant smile to my face and make my spirits soar just hearing him. He can also reduce a person to tears remembering their heartaches while listening to his down-and-out tunes.
He will always and forever be one of my favorites. This is a great site with many tributes and stories about Mr. Gary Stewart that bring out many memories of my own. I was with my dad and Gary many times, through many live shows and so many miles of Texas highway traveled. Many times I was with my father to pick Gary up at the airport on Thursday just to be on the road soon after for a three day three show weekend all over Texas. Tin Hall and Billy Bobs Texas was my favorite places to watch Gary perform even though Gary, no matter the size of the place or the crowd he played his heart out every night.
Gary was a very soft spoken man with a heart of gold, his music and honky tonk attitude will live on forever. I guess my father and our family were some of the lucky ones to really get to know Gary and his wife on a personal level. Many pictures and the few live video recordings we have of Gary hold a speacial place in our hearts. My father and I agree that the Country Music Association should give Gary his place among the greatest of all time in country music.
I just always hoped Gary and his music would live on forever and I can see now it will through all of us. Gary you are one of a kind…we miss you. I remember Gary came up and introduced himself and was such a nice guy. He will truly be missed. He introduced me to honky tonk music. Which I now love. Gary Stewart was one of a kind and we are a lot poorer with his passing, May God grant him the peace he searched for. I grew up in a small Texas town- living hard and wild — and Gary Stewart was always in one of our tape players.
He was as much a part of our nights as the stars in the sky! His music is one of a kind and there will never be anyone who can come anywhere close to him.
I hope that somehow he realized what feeling his music evoked and I hope that he enjoyed some of his life as much as I always have and always will enojoy listening to his unbelievable voice. He is a part of me. May god bless him and I know his music will always live on. Gary was one of those artists that make your hair stand on end when you hear and see him sing.
We would crank Gary up at keg parties while we had a bonfire and people would immediatly start dancing right there in the dirt. Your lucky if you can even move around. This happens anywhere in West Tx HonkYtonks as well. Recently we went to Ruidoso NM. It was for dancing close and really feeling his voice just touch your soul. Gary, you will be missed. Kickin back tonight listening some oldies when Gary started singing.
It had been a while since I heard a song by Gary so I decided to Google him to see what was going on in his life. Makes me sad to be at this site paying tribute to a great singer. Country music fans lost a great singer and nobody today will ever be able to fill his shoes. Gary may be gone but he will not be forgotten. Gary Stewart lived a life that some people could only dream of and a life that some people would call degrading a waste of so much potential.
Whenever me and my buddies are driving the dirtroads drinking some cold ones or sitting in a bar we always gotta hear some Gary. It just seems right. Gary Stewart defines drinking music. David McConnell Warner, Oklahoma. He was dynamite even with the cast. I saw him once jump upon a 4 X 4 banister and belt out his song. There was so much feeling in him. We talked once and I felt the sadness in his heart, it really suddened me. I do and will always love his music. I can never exprss how much he will be missed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I know my life would be a lot poorer without having heard Gary. Thank you for what you did Gary! As a direct blood relitive of Gary Stewart I think its awesome that people are still remembering him and most importantly his music.
I think his death was a loss to country music culture. Baker Letcher Co Kentucky. This broke my girls heart…. I will forever cherish that night! The Stars should be shinning a little brighter tonight. Gary will be greatly missed! Gary Stewart was an amazing performer, songwriter, and person. It is my belief that the most beautifully creative people are the most pained and wounded. Stewart as a huge influence-not only in vocal technique, songwriting stylings, but in her personal life.
He was an amazing person. It is true that we are all deeply affected by the tragic death of such a beautiful talent, but remember this, my friends-as long as we have the music, he will never really die. I am now, as I have been and always will be, a fan of Gary Stewart. I was a major minority. My gawd! I still play his songs today and I was surfing for a CD by him. Gary Stewart will always be in my life. We will Miss or Brother. Gary was an amazing performer.
Retrieved 21 July Retrieved 14 February Dutch Top Retrieved 22 September Retrieved 2 September Cashbox Magazine. Archived from the original on 15 September Retrieved 22 July Retrieved 10 December Archived from the original on 24 June Retrieved 5 July Retrieved 2 March — via World Radio History. Retrieved 21 April Retrieved 26 April Scroll through the page-list below until year to obtain certification.
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Recording Industry Association of America. Ultimate Classic Rock. Retrieved 30 May Eldridge Industries. Retrieved 18 October Viacom Media Networks. Retrieved 20 October Townsquare Media. Fielder, Hugh Pink Floyd: Behind the Wall.
Race Point Publishing. The Wall. Is There Anybody Out There? Another Brick in the Wall: The Opera. Pink Floyd. The Wall Live — Live at the Empire Pool. MTV Unplugged. Greatest Hits Vol. Who Then Now? Neidermayer's Mind. UK Christmas number-one singles in the s. Inthe Producer's Guild of America honored Keys at its "Digital Leaders in Emerging Entertainment" awards, which recognizes "individuals or teams who have made exceptional contributions to the advancement of digital entertainment and storytelling.
InKeys received and shared the award for the Ambassador of Conscience from Amnesty International alongside Canadian Indigenous rights activists. The award is bestowed on activists "who have stood up to injustice, inspired others and furthered the cause of human rights", showing "exceptional leadership and courage in championing human rights".
Amnesty said that Keys "has used her career and platform as a time Grammy award-winning artist to inspire and campaign for change Both Alicia Keys and the Indigenous rights movement of Canada have in their own ways made inspirational and meaningful contributions to advancing human rights and towards ensuring brighter possibilities for future generations.
Crucially, they remind us never to underestimate how far passion and creativity can take us in fighting injustice. Keys and her husband, Kasseem Dean professionally known as Swizz Beatz are also avid art collectors. Keys and Dean are co-chairs of the Gordon Parks Foundation, which permanently preserves the work of Gordon Parksthe pioneering photographer, filmmaker, musician and activist.
InKeys released a Masterclass. Keys invites fans into her studio to share her process for creating music built from authentic emotion.
The class was met with rave reviews. For over a decade, Keys was in a low-profile romantic relationship with her long-time good friend and collaborator Kerry Brothers Jr. Keys later dated hip hop artist-producer Swizz Beatz. Keys and Beatz, who have known each other since they were teenagers,  announced they were engaged and expecting their first child in May From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. American singer-songwriter from New York.
New York CityU. Singer songwriter pianist actress philanthropist author activist. Swizz Beatz. See also: List of awards and nominations received by Alicia Keys. Main article: Alicia Keys discography. The Times. Retrieved July 5, CBS News. February 13, Retrieved September 20, Retrieved September 29, The Guardian.
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I think actually growing up around that really taught me a lot when getting into this business, you know, cause this [business] is similar to Hell's Kitchen; there's all the options, and you can either go the right way or you can kind of fall off I give thanks that where I grew up kind of prepared me for that so that I could have a particular focus, cause I didn't want to end up like so many people that I saw on the street every day.
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August 6, Archived from the original on May 29, Retrieved July 17, PR Newswire. Retrieved April 7, The Independent. Retrieved January 17, Archived from the original on October 24, Retrieved November 8, I put on my Sunday dress and took the packet with Miss Chandlers handkerchief. I so hoped she would be in church. It seems a hundred years since I saw her last. We dont go to church at Steeple Farm. When I was little, and Ma was alive, she used to take me to the Catholic church in Lancaster, but thats nine miles off, and Father says the horses need to rest on Sunday.
They arent resting today; theyre harrowing the lower field. But the Presbyterian church is less than three miles away, so I can walk.
Ma married outside her Faith, but she told me Father used to be very pious and religious before I was born. When I was a baby, we had three bad harvests in a row, and Father made up his mind that religion was hogwash. So when Father wants to work on Sundays, he does, and we never go to church anymore. I find Im in two minds about this. I remember how when I was a little thing, the services seemed so long. My legs hurt from sitting still, and I wasnt allowed to swing my feet.
If I fidgeted, Ma would put her hands on mine to stop me. But St. Marys had stained glass in the windows, and the light glowing through the colors was so beautiful it made me feel holy inside. After the service Ma would light a candle in front of a statue of the Blessed Mother, and I loved her, because she was as slender as a girl, with a smile that looked as if she was teasing someone she loved very dearly. I still pray to her I carry a picture of the statue in my mind and sometimes she answers me back, though Im never sure if the voice is hers or Mas, or if the whole thing is my imagination.
It was warm this morning. I tried not to walk too fast, because I didnt want to look red faced and hot when I saw Miss Chandler. My Sunday dress this year is heavy cotton. I declare, that dress is a sore spot with me. Father always asks the storekeeper whats cheap, and thats what he buys. This year what was cheap was a chocolate-brown twill with little bunches of purple flowers on it.
Something went wrong with the printing, and the flowers are all blotched and dont look like flowers at all. Because the pattern was spoiled, the cloth was so cheap that Father bought the rest of the bolt and says it can be next years new dress, too. I was so despairing that I went upstairs to cry. One of my books, Dombey and Son, is about a girl named Florence and her awful father that she loves even though he never pays any attention to her.
But Florence has pretty clothes and she doesnt have to work as hard as I do, so I guess its easier for her to love her father. Father says I grow so fast theres no use wasting money on my clothes. He calls me an ox of a girl, and I wish he wouldnt, because when I look in the mirror, thats what I see. I wish I werent so tall and coarse-like. Even my hair is ox colored, reddish brown and neither curly nor straight, but each strand kinked and thick and standing away from the others.
My braids are almost as thick as my wrists, and my wrists are all thick and muscled from scrubbing. The Presbyterian church isnt as pretty as St. Marys, because there is no colored glass. But its very clean and bright inside, and the morning was fine, and the ladies wore their best hats. I looked for Miss Chandlers hat, which has the wing of an arctic tern on it, but I couldnt see it. I saw two girls from school, Alice Marsh and Lucy Watkins. I sat down in the back and was glad they couldnt see me.
Alice isnt so bad; she will speak to me quite pleasantly if Lucy and Hazel Fry arent with her, and she doesnt tease. But I think Alice is a coward, because she lets Lucy and Hazel decide who her friends should be. I wouldnt let another girl make up my mind for me like that.
I can never decide whether to be grateful to Alice because she is kinder than the others, or whether I ought to despise her for being such a poltroon. So I do both. I hate Lucy Watkins and Hazel Fry. After Ma died I didnt do the washing as regular as I might because there was so much else I had to do all the cooking and putting food by. The men didnt seem to mind so much if I was behind with the laundry, and I guess that first year I looked slatternly, because Ma wasnt.
That was when the other girls set their faces against me. I remember we had to read a poem by William Shakespeare, and the part about spring was so beautiful, with flowers called ladys-smocks painting the meadow with delight.
But the second part of the poem was about winter, not spring, and it was about someone called Greasy Joan keeling the pot, and thats when Lucy Watkins started giggling, and the other girls joined in. At recess they called me Greasy Joan. I told the teacher. Miss Lang said that now that I was growing up to be a young lady, I must work hard to keep my hair neat and my clothes pressed.
She said I remember how she lowered her voice when she said it that my things were not so fresh as they might be. I knew she meant to be kind. But I also knew that what she meant was that I smelled bad. I was dreadfully ashamed, and I never felt the same toward Miss Lang after that.
She must have rebuked Lucy and Hazel, and she made them stop calling me Greasy Joan. But sometimes theyd put their heads together and giggle, and I knew they were still thinking it. It was warm in the church, and I tried to keep my mind on the sermon, though my conscience was not too bad troubled when I couldnt, because I am a Catholic, not a Presbyterian. Then I wondered if the Blessed Mother would be angry with me for being in a Presbyterian church, instead of St.
So I said a Hail Mary to her inside my head, and told her I was sorry. I explained that I wasnt there because I was going to turn Protestant, but because I wanted to see dear Miss Chandler. The Blessed Mother said she wasnt worried about me turning Protestant, but she thought I might stop working so hard at hating Lucy Watkins and Hazel Fry.
I thought about that and I supposed it was true. Its not good to hate people in a holy place, when youre asking God to forgive you the same way you forgive the ones who trespass against you. I decided I would stop hating them during the service and take it up again after I got out. I asked the Blessed Mother if that would be all right, and she said it would be an improvement. So with that settled, I tried to fix my mind on what the minister was trying to say.
The minister was a pink-faced man and he talked slow. He spoke about the Pearl of Great Price, and then he started talking about treasure and how where our treasure was, our hearts should be. I thought about how I didnt go to St. Marys because it was nine miles off and how if I was a Christian martyr, Id ask Father for the horses, even though hed be unkind. Maybe Id walk, even. I started to repent, but then the minister gave his sermon another twist, and it turned out what he was really after was more money in the collection plate.
Then I felt awkward because I hadnt brought any money with me, and I was worried that people would stare at me when the plate went round. Father never gives me any money because he says what does a girl who is given everything want with money. When Ma was alive the egg money was hers, and Im the one who cleans the chicken house and gathers the eggs and makes the mash for the hens.
But Father wont let me have the egg money. I fell into a daydream about what Id do if the egg money was mine. Id buy cloth for a new dress. A stripe would be best because if you match the stripes and set them right, you can make your waist look smaller. I think I could get it right if I tried. Id buy books, too. Theres a store in Lancaster that has books that only cost a nickel. Miss Chandler says those books are trivial and unwholesome and she hopes I will never read them.
I wonder whats in them. I have three books the ones she gave me plus Mas Bible, and I just ache to read more. Miss Chandler used to lend me books. Id hoped that if I gave back her handkerchief she might say we could go on being friends, even if I cant come to school anymore. Miss Chandler has a little bookcase full of books in her rooms.
At the end of school, she invited all us older girls Lucy and Hazel and Alice and little Rebecca Green, who has consumption but wasnt too sick to come to her boardinghouse. We had chicken salad and ice cream and looked at photographs of Europe on the stereopticon.
And we passed around a beautiful poem called The Eve of St. Agnes and read it aloud, and I thought it was the most wonderful poem I ever read. Even Lucy and Hazel were civil to me, and I wished the evening would never come to an end. But of course it did. And now I cant go back to school. And Miss Chandler wasnt in the church, not this week. I waited under the oak tree and watched everyone come out to be sure.
Alice waved to me, and I waved back, but I didnt go forward to speak to her. I went home and fixed dinner for the men. Wednesday, June the fourteenth, I didnt think it would be so hard to write in this diary every day.
Late spring is always busy on the farm. I spend my days rushing from one have-to to the next have-to. When I can snatch a moment between them, I read one of dear Miss Chandlers books. Id rather read than write. My books arent exactly prize books, because our school doesnt hand out prize books. But for the past three years, Miss Chandler has taken me aside, privately, and given me a book at the end of the year. I told her we had none at home, and I think she was sorry for me.
The books she gave me are bound in soft, limp leather, with thin paper, gold edged and elegant, like Bible pages. I have Jane Eyre that was the first year and Dombey and Son that was the second year and Ivanhoe that was last year. Ive read and reread them all, but Jane Eyre is the best, because its the most exciting and Jane is just like me.
Ivanhoe has dull patches, but its very thrilling when Brian de Bois-Guilbert carries off the noble Jewess Rebecca because of his unbridled passion. Dombey and Son is good, but it makes me feel guilty because Im not as good as Florence Dombey. I like best the part where her father strikes her and she runs away to Captain Cuttle. He takes such good care of her. Sometimes at night I like to pretend Im Florence Dombey, lying beautifully asleep in a clean white bed, with Captain Cuttle tiptoeing around, making me a roasted fowl.
But Father never strikes me, thank heavens. He used to whip the boys when they were younger, but Ma wouldnt let him lay a hand on me. She said it wasnt modest for a man to whip a girl.
So Father never did, but he said I was too big for my britches even though I didnt wear any. Thats his idea of humor to say something insulting and unrefined. I wish I hadnt written it Good Mind To Keep You (If Youll Stay) - Robinson Treacher - Porches (CD this book. Today I will contemplate the view from the kitchen window and describe the beauties of nature. I guess thats refined enough for anybody. Im sitting on the kitchen table because I just gave the floor a good scrub, and its still wet.
Father is in town buying a part for one of his machines, and the boys are working in the lower field. I can watch them from the window, so they wont come back to the house and catch me idling.
The panorama from the kitchen window is very striking because the ground falls away from the house and the barnyard on all sides. Our house and barns rest on the top of a steep hill. The hill is so steep that the land wasnt too dear, and my great-grandfather got a bargain when he bought it.
He named it Steep Hill Farm, but after a time it became Steeple there isnt any steeple nearby, so the name would be confusing to strangers, except that strangers seldom come this way.
The farm is fourteen acres and has been in the family for nigh on eighty years. The youngest son is always the one to inherit the property. Luke will have Steeple Farm some day, though Father says hes lazy and a disappointment. The strawberries are close to ripe just now. I half fancy I can smell them, sitting here by the open window, with my diary on my knee.
The breeze is very refreshing. The sky is lofty and celestial blue, with gossamer clouds oerhead, and the wind chasing them all over the sky. The fields are verdant green, and. Oh, oh, oh! I am in the most miserable pain!
My whole face is swollen and throbbing and I would cry my eyes out, except that screwing up my face pulls my stitches. And oh, how horrible I look! I am accursed the unluckiest girl who ever lived! I have often thought so, but this proves it. How contented I was, writing in my book and contemplating the view of Steeple Farm from the kitchen window! How little I dreamed that this was the beginning of another misfortune! I looked out the window and saw that Cressy, the Jersey cow, had escaped from the cow pasture and was heading up the hill to the farmyard.
It would be Cressy, of course. Luke says Cressy and I are alike both of us too smart for our own good. Cows were meant to be stupid creatures, Luke says, and so were women, but Cressy and I are the exceptions that prove the rule. I abominate Luke for saying that, but I agree with him about Cressy. Shes a bad cow. She never stays where you put her. Shell find the weakest section of fence and lean her fat red rump against it, swaying back and forth until she works the top rail loose.
Ive seen her do it. Last year she got out and trampled the strawberry bed and there were no strawberries to sell. Father was awful angry. I leaped off the table and ran out the door to catch her.
I didnt think to put my boots on I was in the slovenly slippers I wear around the house. I seized her by the halter and started to drag her back to the pasture. She balked. She gazed at me as if she couldnt imagine what I wanted. I wanted to slap her, because she knew perfectly well. Of all the cows in the world, shes not stupid.
But I said, Cush, cush, in my best cow voice, and tugged her halter, and she started forward only her great, heavy hoof came down on my foot. Heaven knows its not the first time a horse or a cow has trod on me, and it wont be the last, but I dont recollect the other times hurting so bad. I guess it was partly my slippers and partly the way her hoof came down. I yelled with pain and slapped her shoulder, and she blinked at me with those long cow-y eyelashes, playing stupid.
I leaned on her and shouted at her and tried to make her get off, but she was like a stone cow, she was so still and all the while my foot felt as if every bone was splintering. What I did next was stupid. I wont say it wasnt. I bent over and tugged at that leg of hers, as if I could pull her off my foot. It was a brainless thing to do, because a cows strength is ever so much greater than a girls, and even if it werent, cows legs dont move sideways.
But I guess I startled Cressy, tugging on her leg like that. So she decided to move forward, and her other front leg came forward, swift as lightning, and kneed me in the eye. I screamed. There was blood everywhere, and I screamed so loud that Cressy took off. I put my hands to my face and at once they were coated slick with blood, and blood was running down my cheek and inside the collar of my dress.
I didnt know if my eyeball had been knocked out of the socket or if I was going to be blind. I couldnt know, and I couldnt think. I only knew I hurt and there was too much blood, so I kept screaming. It was Mark who got to me first, thank God, and he hurt me, swiping the blood away with his rough sleeve and shouting at me, demanding to know what happened. Finally I heard him say, Thank God, Sis, its not your eye.
Its the skin above it. Its not your eye. And then, as if he couldnt quite believe it, he covered my good eye with his hand and asked, Can you see? I could.
My eyelashes were sticky with blood, and already my eye was swelling up so that the world looked bizarre. It was too colorful, the green grass and the blue sky and the blood beads on my eyelashes. I gulped, Yes, and Mark put his arms around me. It was just for the moment, but I loved him for it.
The last time he held me like that was the day of Mas funeral. And he said, Thank God, thank God. Then Matthew and Luke were there, and Mark said I ought to have a doctor, and Luke took off like a shot to bridle a horse, and Matthew went to catch Cressy. Mark took me inside and tried to stop the bleeding with a rag dipped in cold water. Even though I was in pain and terribly frightened, I remembered Id left my diary on the table.
I made Mark wash his hands and hide it under the dish towels. When Dr. Fosse came, the wound was still bleeding. He wanted to stitch it Dr. Fosses a great one. Fosse said not to make a fuss, and he told me how earlier this week he put fifteen stitches into the arm of a seven-year-old boy, and the boy never shed a tear. That shamed me, but I still couldnt stand it. Luke held me down with one knee and Mark held my head still, and Dr. Fosse stitched me up, and all the while he was going on about that seven-year-old boy and asking why I couldnt be brave like him.
With all my heart, I hated that nasty, unnatural, unfeeling little boy. But at last the stitches were all done, and Dr. Fosse wiped my face clean and checked to see if my toes were broken. None of them were. Afterward, I was horribly ashamed that I yelled so loud. Luke said I bawled like a heifer. I have always thought that if something dreadful happened, I would be very brave, but when someone has a needle next to your eye, its different. I might have been brave if it hadnt been my eye.
All the same, I was mortified because Rebecca in Ivanhoe wouldnt have carried on like that, and I dont believe Jane Eyre would have, either. But Florence Dombey wouldve. She cries her way through all eight hundred pages of Dombey and Son. Just because shes unloved. After the doctor left, I went to my room and slept a short while, but then Matthew rapped on my door. He said it was suppertime and theyd all agreed to make do with a cold meal, because of my eye.
He seemed to think that was handsome of them, which aggravated me. I thought about not answering, pretending to be asleep, and not coming down.
But then I remembered last winter, when I had the grippe and couldnt get out of bed for four days. The men made an awful mess of the kitchen. They left the dirty dishes in the sink, and everything was sticky and greasy and crumby by the time I was well enough to come downstairs.
And in four days they never once cleaned the privy. Oh, dear heavens, that is vulgar again! But how am I to be anything but vulgar, living in such a house? I went downstairs and sliced ham and bread and cheese and made sandwiches. I put out jelly and pickles and cold baked beans. I couldnt chew, because my face was too sore, but I had a glass of milk and some of the beans. Father looked at me and said, That eyes near swollen shut. Maybe thatll keep you from reading instead of doing your chores.
How heartless he is! He was vexed with Mark for sending for the doctor, because the wound might have mended without stitching, and now therell be a bill to pay. All through supper, Father reminded Mark of the expenses weve had this spring. Mark didnt answer back. He just shoveled in his food. Every now and then Father would fall silent, and wed think it was over, but then hed start up again.
It was an unpleasant meal, even for Steeple Farm. But the men ate just as much as usual. When I stood up to clear away the plates, I felt frail and shaky. I wondered how much blood Id lost and if it was enough to make me faint. I wished I could faint, right in front of everyone.
But I didnt. I cleared up the dishes and slipped my diary out from under the dish towels and brought it upstairs. I looked at myself in the mirror, and oh, I wanted to cry.
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