Cousins, Family, Family History, Family Proverbs, Memoir


Earlier, I wrote about some expressions our family uses to make a point and asked you to share yours. A couple of folks responded with cute stories about their own family sayings. One group blamed everything on the brother away at camp, and the other’s involved the statement No Karate in the kitchen. In both cases, the phrases are still in use. Both made me smile. Thanks for sharing!

Here are a few more things Terry and I say on a regular basis.

I’m happy to say that both boys have grown up to be kind, polite young men!

Someone has two toys entered our vocabulary when some of our very young grandchildren were playing together at a holiday dinner. One particularly impulsive young’un had a habit of grabbing toys away from the other children. I can still see the earnest face of his cousin looking up at me as he tactfully voiced a plea for adult intervention. Now when one of us appears to be hogging something, you’ll hear the other say, Someone has two toys. It’s a great way to make a point without having a row.

No thank you. It doesn’t look delicious originated at a Christmas dinner when our young grandson politely stonewalled his aunt’s efforts to get him to try gravy on his mashed potatoes. (His response was accompanied by a small “Stop” hand signal to assure that none of the suspicious dish made it onto his plate.)  Now, if I’m offered a piece of coconut pie (which is not my favorite flavor), I will politely say, “No, thank you.” If you see me make a little “Stop” signal with my hand, I could also be thinking, It doesn’t look delicious. (Our neighbor, Cissy, has adopted this remark!)

  •  It’s just right is one of my favorite things to say to people apologizing for what they consider to be disappointing outcomes from their efforts. If the cake was lopsided or the roast not so tender, you could always count on the Dale women to employ the phrase It’s just right – stretching out Juuust for emphasis. Consequently, in our family if you’ve worked hard at something but are a little embarrassed by the results and try to apologize, you are bound to hear someone cut off your apology with the words It’s Just Right! (My cousin, Larry, uses it and my husband, Terry, has taken it up.)

The person I associate most with the phrase is my Aunt Dorothy. She and her sister, Betty, were champions of their nieces and nephews. Memories of her inspired this poem.

Family Motto
 Just right, she said,
when you’d done your best
but made a mess.
Just right.
Just right! She knew the
impulse of the deed was
greater than its final form.
Just right!
‘Though long she’s slept,
when efforts somehow disappoint,
in my heart I hear her voice,
It’s juuust right!
Family, Memoir

"Could Be Minnie Did It" and Other Family Sayings

Does your family have any funny sayings or make cryptic remarks to gently chide or tease one another? We do. Several come from funny things children have said, while others are the products of fully grown people. Some are being picked up by a third generation and friends.

Could be Minnie did it was coined from a cousin’s response to my mother’s questions about who had painted her lamp with red nail polish. The little guy to the left had been in the bedroom with the door closed just before she discovered the artwork. Minnie was our dog. (I’m quite certain she was nowhere near that lamp, Rod.) 

After that at our house, when you’d rather not own up to something you’d done, you said, Could be Minnie did it.


I, however, was typing my term paper is an expression Terry and I took from an experience with a renter who was in med school. When her toddler spilled grape juice that stained the light-colored living room rug, she wrote us a long, detailed letter explaining that he had somehow “gotten past his nanny.” While she was very apologetic, she disavowed any responsibility for the mishap with the words, “I, however, was typing my term paper.”

Since then, when someone tries to wiggle out of accepting responsibility, we look at each other and say, I, however, was typing my term paper! (Unfortunately, it’s happened often enough that now Terry just says, I, however … with a big grin on his face.)

Well, we got ourselves a goat originated with my father’s family. When he and his brother were young, their dad bought the family a goat. My grandmother said that for days, the boys admired their new pet and repeatedly told each other, “Well, we got ourselves a goat.” In that household of limited means, it became the standard expression of joy over a new acquisition.

Now when we buy a new car or luxury item, you might hear us say, Well, we got ourselves a goat! (That’s how my friend, Suanne, announces that she’s made a big purchase.)

But he’s a good dog. Our oldest son, Gary, likes dogs and has seldom been without at least one. A number of years ago when he was going out of town, he asked us to keep his Blue Heeler, Taz, for the weekend. We had a fence but were a little nervous about how Taz would handle his new environment. When I expressed my concerns, Gary explained that he wouldn’t be any trouble because “He’s a good dog.” By the time Gary returned, Taz had dug up a flower bed to make a cool place to lie down, terrorized our cats and chewed off the corner of an expensive patio chair. Of course, he was a granddog so we rolled with it.

Now if we think someone is trying to gloss over any negative realities, you might hear us say, But he’s a good dog. And occasionally, we gig Gary by reminding him of his good dog.  (We took that fence down. It interfered with the view.)

     What about you? Do you have any pithy family sayings? I’d love to hear them

The right word at the right time is like a custom-made piece of jewelry,
and a wise friend’s timely reprimand is like a gold ring slipped on your finger.     
Proverbs 25:11-12 THE MESSAGE


    Cousins, Family, Family History, Memoir


    Terry and I recently had the pleasure of entertaining my cousin, Rod, and his wife, Dorothy, who live in Arizona. His dad was my mother’s baby brother, and although all nine Dale siblings were close, those two had a special bond. Perhaps it was because Wayne was the last boy to leave the farm.

    My mother never left home. Even after she and my daddy married, they stayed on Oak Dale Farm to help my grandmother. I was two when they sold the home place and we moved into Searcy. Grandma Dale went with us to a brand new home in a new neighborhood, and Rod’s dad built a house down the street.

    Our older brothers, Will and Ted, were just a few months apart in age and inseparable. They were amazingly tolerant of my tagging along, but when I couldn’t follow them, I had Rod. My earliest memories are from when I was five or six, and he, at three or so, was developing the mischievous personality that still charms me.

    I must have been in the second grade when they left Searcy and settled in California. It broke our hearts, but fortunately they came back often enough that I maintained a strong emotional tie to them. Being with the Dale boys –Ted, Rod and Rick — still holds the comfort of home for me. (Rick was a baby when they left Searcy.)

    Rod and Dorothy planned this trip to coincide with the appearance of the lightning bugs. He wanted Dorothy, who grew up in California, to experience the magic he remembered of fireflies at dusk. They were not disappointed. The two evenings they were here (the Dale boys don’t stay long any place when traveling) the lightning bugs presented a magnificent deck-side show. (Thanks to ThermaCell Mosquito Repellent, we were able to exchange Dale lore well into the night.)

    Rod also wanted to go back to Searcy to show Dorothy our old neighborhood. I warned them that the street didn’t the look the same. It’s in an old, rundown part of town now and nothing like Rod remembered. He was undeterred, so we went.

    These are some things we found.

    • A “For Sale” sign in an open field with just a few remaining oaks out of the grove that inspired the name Oak Dale Farm where our parents were born.
    • Gum Springs Cemetery, the well-kept, rural resting place of our loved ones with the town  growing out around it.
    • Pear Street (called 7th Street when we were neighbors), shabby with more houses in disrepair than kept up.
    • Another “For Sale” sign in the yard of my childhood home, one of the few houses in good repair. It was empty so we explored the yard. The frame house boasts new siding and the addition of central air and heat. My dad’s roses are long gone, but the flat rock patio he built, gathering and hauling home every stone, is still shaded by the pecan tree he planted when I was a child.
    • Only a sidewalk and driveway remains where Rod once lived — the house burned some time ago.
    • The houses where the Rubles, Millers and Batsons once lived. (Later the Chapmans and Dunnams.)
    • Aunt Mary’s last home a few blocks away. NEVER would she have painted it that color!
    After we ate fried green tomatoes and fried cat fish at a new-to-us Whistle Stop Café, we returned to Little Rock without taking one picture.
    We didn’t need them. We have snapshot memories of the neighborhood in better days when we were young and free to roam from house to house.  They were enough.

    We did take this picture of Rod and Dorothy the morning they left for Memphis to visit Elvis.