I received sad news today that my great-grandmother went to be with the Lord this morning.   She was 98 years old, and quite a character.  Her name was Hazel, but we all called her Stinky.  Apparently the name Stinky came from my mom, who would go over to her grandmother's house when she was young.  Hazel would call my mom "Little Stinker" and then my mom would call her back "Big Stinker", then she just started calling her Stinky.  The name just stuck with her all these years, and  I never called her anything but Stinky.  One time a college friend went bowling with us and kept getting confused and called her Smelly, and she would just laugh.

She lived through the depression, and she and her husband, Bill, my great-grandfather who passed away in 1998, definitely knew the value of a dollar, and knew how to make that dollar stretch.  Even recently, she was known to go outside and chase down the gas man who was delivering gas to her house, just to give him her gas bill and payment - all so she could save a stamp.  She never spent money on herself in luxury, but was more than generous in giving to all in her family. 

She and Bill (who we called Poppie) bought the 600 acre ranch that she lived and died on, back in the 1940's.  They built a swimming pool there in the early 60's, and it is one of the highlights of the ranch still, used by my entire family each summer.  Up to a few years ago, Stinky would go down and swim in the pool each summer day, getting her daily exercise.  She could also float on her back better than anyone I've known.

She graduated from high school as valedictorian at age 16, and then went to the University of Texas at Austin.  While there, she met Poppie, who was driving Greyhound buses for a living.  She married and had two daughters, Billy and May.  She worked as a school teacher and was on the local library board for years.

Stinky was a bit of a stinker.  She was very strong-willed (hmmm...I see myself in her in many ways), and once she put her mind to it, nothing would stop her.  She would tell stories of growing up in Buda, TX.  After misbehaving she would climb the windmill, and stay up there until her mom begged her to come down, promising to not spank her. You never wanted to get into an argument with her, or try to talk her out of doing something she had set her mind to do, it was pointless.  Nathan jokingly says that the strong-willed blood runs thick in the female members of our family, but of course he is right.  She made the county newspaper at age 90 when she went up for a ride in a flying machine, flying over the ranch and seeing it from a bird's view. 

All during my college years in east Texas, I would bring different friends home with me on the breaks.  Stinky always hosted Thanksgiving, and besides the regular turkey and fixins, would make tons of pecan, cherry and pumpkin pies, with lots of extra whipped cream.  I remember one time someone praising her, "Stinky, this is sooo good, you sure are a good cook."  She looked at them and remarked, "Yep, I'm a good cook, I know it."   I still use that line sometimes when Nathan praises my cooking, and he just laughs. 

Her entire life, Stinky loved reading books.  My grandmother, Billy, would bring books to her each week from the library, and sometimes she would stay up until the wee hours of the night, finishing one that she couldn't put down.  Even the day before she died, she was reading.  She was always keeping her mind and hands active with other things as well - quilting, painting ceramics, and geneology. 

Stinky was fun, spunky and always seemed to really enjoy life.  When I'd visit, she always seemed to say something like, "Isn't life wonderful?"  I'm very much like her in many ways.  I know that she trusted in Jesus as her saviour, and I'm glad she is now with God, but sad because I will miss her so much.

This is a photo of the boys and Stinky before we moved to Alaska.