In my recent digging into a box, an old Christmas List of mine appeared, dated November 28, 1992.
I wrote on it: At Last! Mom's 1992 Christmas List Since Everyone Keeps Reminding Me That I Am Late As Usual. (And here is my Christmas List for that year.)
135 film
Poetry books
Art books (picture books)
Blank audio tapes - 60s and 90
The Night Before Christmas (for my collection)
Tastes of Paradise (a book about condiments)
Italian Neighbors (a book about anecdotes maybe)
Phone calls, cards, letters, family letters galore
Blank books for jotting down memories and my poetry
Postage stamps - commemorative - for mailing my infrequent family letters
Calendars - art, whimsical, nature, archaeology, something unusual
"The Tewa World" (about Tewa Indians) by Alfonso Ortiz, published 1969 by University Chicago Press
Mother Goose Book: The Glorious Mother Goose selected by Cooper Edens, MacMillan Publishing Company
A box of blank greeting cards - heavy paper if possible, for me to make my own cards.
Lily-of-the-Valley soap
And then I wrote, "Well, how is that list? Whosoever drew my name no doubt has done all the shopping they need to.
I am having a good time with these adorable children [three of my grandchildren] here in Hyde Park; I've taken several shots of their antics.
Gram B [my Mom] said she should send out a Christmas list, but I'll tell you what she'd like. No gifts because she has no room for them. She would like a letter every month from each of you, a phone call every so often, and prayers that she'd get better. She told me she would put on her list: a new car, someone to do her work, and... MONEY, MONEY, MONEY. (She was joking about that last item.) She does enjoy reading all your family letters and Christmas lists.
Well, I've been writing some verse poetry now and again, and enjoy that so very much. I'll show them to you in a few weeks when I make copies. Love, Mom - XXXXXXX"
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
Thursday, November 3, 2011
An Old Christmas List; one of my old short letters to my family.
In my recent digging into a box, an old Christmas List of mine appeared, dated November 28, 1992.
I wrote on it: At Last! Mom's 1992 Christmas List Since Everyone Keeps Reminding Me That I Am Late As Usual. (And here is my Christmas List for that year.)
135 film
Poetry books
Art books (picture books)
Blank audio tapes - 60s and 90
The Night Before Christmas (for my collection)
Tastes of Paradise (a book about condiments)
Italian Neighbors (a book about anecdotes maybe)
Phone calls, cards, letters, family letters galore
Blank books for jotting down memories and my poetry
Postage stamps - commemorative - for mailing my infrequent family letters
Calendars - art, whimsical, nature, archaeology, something unusual
"The Tewa World" (about Tewa Indians) by Alfonso Ortiz, pub. 1969 by Univ. Chicago Press
Mother Goose Book: The Glorious Mother Goose selected by Cooper Edens, MacMillan Pub. Co.
A box of blank greeting cards - heavy paper if possible, for me to make my own cards.
Lily-of-the-Valley soap
And then I wrote, "Well, how is that list? Whosoever drew my name no doubt has done all the shopping they need to.
I am having a good time with these adorable children [three of my grandchildren] here in Hyde Park; I've taken several shots of their antics.
Gram B [my Mom] said she should send out a Christmas list, but I'll tell you what she'd like. No gifts because she has no room for them. She would like a letter every month from each of you, a phone call every so often, and prayers that she'd get better. She told me she would put on her list: a new car, someone to do her work, and... MONEY, MONEY, MONEY. (She was joking about that last item.) She does enjoy reading all your family letters and Christmas lists.
Well, I've been writing some verse poetry now and again, and enjoy that so very much. I'll show them to you in a few weeks when I make copies. Love, Mom - XXXXXXX"
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
I wrote on it: At Last! Mom's 1992 Christmas List Since Everyone Keeps Reminding Me That I Am Late As Usual. (And here is my Christmas List for that year.)
135 film
Poetry books
Art books (picture books)
Blank audio tapes - 60s and 90
The Night Before Christmas (for my collection)
Tastes of Paradise (a book about condiments)
Italian Neighbors (a book about anecdotes maybe)
Phone calls, cards, letters, family letters galore
Blank books for jotting down memories and my poetry
Postage stamps - commemorative - for mailing my infrequent family letters
Calendars - art, whimsical, nature, archaeology, something unusual
"The Tewa World" (about Tewa Indians) by Alfonso Ortiz, pub. 1969 by Univ. Chicago Press
Mother Goose Book: The Glorious Mother Goose selected by Cooper Edens, MacMillan Pub. Co.
A box of blank greeting cards - heavy paper if possible, for me to make my own cards.
Lily-of-the-Valley soap
And then I wrote, "Well, how is that list? Whosoever drew my name no doubt has done all the shopping they need to.
I am having a good time with these adorable children [three of my grandchildren] here in Hyde Park; I've taken several shots of their antics.
Gram B [my Mom] said she should send out a Christmas list, but I'll tell you what she'd like. No gifts because she has no room for them. She would like a letter every month from each of you, a phone call every so often, and prayers that she'd get better. She told me she would put on her list: a new car, someone to do her work, and... MONEY, MONEY, MONEY. (She was joking about that last item.) She does enjoy reading all your family letters and Christmas lists.
Well, I've been writing some verse poetry now and again, and enjoy that so very much. I'll show them to you in a few weeks when I make copies. Love, Mom - XXXXXXX"
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Winter and 'hybernating'; my cooking Muse; poetry.
For the past few weeks, it seems that I have been cooking more food for myself, and freezing the leftovers, and my son Joe thinks it is a natural preparation for winter. He said he feels that he is eating more than he did in the first part of autumn. I believe that now of myself, for I've been eating more than usual. It may also be the forethought that with winter coming, and possibly bad weather, we instinctively preserve food for future use.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Being sensitive to gluten, I have been making cookies with gluten-free flour, and also changing recipes with some different ingredients. My cookies are also for the freezer. I can easily take out one or two if I am craving them. Several days ago I made date bars, after modifying a combination of two or three recipes. After concentrating so hard on getting everything ready, and simmering the cut-up dates because they were rather hard and I thought they needed some softening-up, it seemed that everything was hunky-dory. All this leads to mistakes.
The batter/dough was put together, and in my forgetfulness I placed it in the baking pan, which was quite a job. I then remembered that the dates weren't put into the batter/dough. "Oh, dear, what do I do now?"I thought. It would have been too time-consuming to try to get it all out of the pan and messy, so I just poured the simmered and cooled dates onto the thick batter/dough. With a fork, I tried to make the dates connect with some of the dough, by running the tines back and forth. When it was put into the oven, I said a prayer that all would be well with my date bars, in spite of such a manner of putting it together.
When the masterpiece was baked, I took it out to cool, and hoped and hoped and hoped that it would be
okay and edible. It looked rather different than I thought it would be, and when it was cool enough, I cut a little piece and tasted. Heavens to Betsy! It was way beyond my dreams that it would be good. So tasty, so delicious, so different, it was hard to believe. It must have been my Muse who was doing such good work. Happenings like this make me so happy. I like to say that I have a cooking Muse because I often modify recipes with impulses to use certain ingredients when I'm cooking or baking. Life is interesting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Have I told you that I adore poetry? I have loved it since I was probably quite young, while in the middle grades at school, or even earlier. I don't remember when I began to like it so much. I like to write poetry, too, but it is not always easy. Much of the time it takes much concentration, and it is slow. Every now and then I get the urge to write poetry, and it just comes out like a moderate fountain. I like those moments.
May I show you the poem that I wrote and jotted down on the first page of a book of my poems? It was written on November 30, 1992. It doesn't yet have a title. Perhaps "if you please"is its title.
If you please:
May these poems, rhymes and songs
Be accepted as they are;
I know that many others' works
Are much better, surely, by far.
I have a lot of fun and joy
composing each little verse,
But, truly, when you think of it,
They couldn't be much worse.
The words come out as they choose to do
And I let them fall where they may.
Maybe I could... do a better job...
Perhaps... on some other day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Being sensitive to gluten, I have been making cookies with gluten-free flour, and also changing recipes with some different ingredients. My cookies are also for the freezer. I can easily take out one or two if I am craving them. Several days ago I made date bars, after modifying a combination of two or three recipes. After concentrating so hard on getting everything ready, and simmering the cut-up dates because they were rather hard and I thought they needed some softening-up, it seemed that everything was hunky-dory. All this leads to mistakes.
The batter/dough was put together, and in my forgetfulness I placed it in the baking pan, which was quite a job. I then remembered that the dates weren't put into the batter/dough. "Oh, dear, what do I do now?"I thought. It would have been too time-consuming to try to get it all out of the pan and messy, so I just poured the simmered and cooled dates onto the thick batter/dough. With a fork, I tried to make the dates connect with some of the dough, by running the tines back and forth. When it was put into the oven, I said a prayer that all would be well with my date bars, in spite of such a manner of putting it together.
When the masterpiece was baked, I took it out to cool, and hoped and hoped and hoped that it would be
okay and edible. It looked rather different than I thought it would be, and when it was cool enough, I cut a little piece and tasted. Heavens to Betsy! It was way beyond my dreams that it would be good. So tasty, so delicious, so different, it was hard to believe. It must have been my Muse who was doing such good work. Happenings like this make me so happy. I like to say that I have a cooking Muse because I often modify recipes with impulses to use certain ingredients when I'm cooking or baking. Life is interesting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Have I told you that I adore poetry? I have loved it since I was probably quite young, while in the middle grades at school, or even earlier. I don't remember when I began to like it so much. I like to write poetry, too, but it is not always easy. Much of the time it takes much concentration, and it is slow. Every now and then I get the urge to write poetry, and it just comes out like a moderate fountain. I like those moments.
May I show you the poem that I wrote and jotted down on the first page of a book of my poems? It was written on November 30, 1992. It doesn't yet have a title. Perhaps "if you please"is its title.
If you please:
May these poems, rhymes and songs
Be accepted as they are;
I know that many others' works
Are much better, surely, by far.
I have a lot of fun and joy
composing each little verse,
But, truly, when you think of it,
They couldn't be much worse.
The words come out as they choose to do
And I let them fall where they may.
Maybe I could... do a better job...
Perhaps... on some other day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
Monday, October 24, 2011
The Secret Sister Society.
There is a little club at one of my favorite churches. This little club has about fifteen to twenty ladies who draw a name from a little basket, and find out who is going to be their "Secret Sister" for about eight weeks.
Each week they bring a little gift, not expensive, but very thoughtful, and secretly put it in the community room on top of the piano. No one knows who has whom. Sometimes the ladies send their little gift through the mail, or drop it off at the church incognito, or even have someone else bring it in, to keep their identity a secret.
This mysteriousness increases its momentum as the eight weeks go by. This past Sunday, the leader had invited the Secret Sisters and other women to come to her home at a certain hour, where all would enjoy a most delicious Pot Luck Dinner and some mighty fine desserts. Afterwards the meeting came to order, well, not really, but the leader said, "Now is the time." She asked each lady, "Do you have any idea who your Secret Sister is?" Most of the women had no clue, but a couple of them said they did have an inkling of their Secret Sister's identity.
Every member of the Secret Sister Society found out who had been sending or leaving such thoughtful inexpensive gifts to her. The variety of gifts was quite incredible, as a lot of thought went into the choosing of the gifts. Some ladies told about certain gifts, and one could see how thrilled they were at receiving such unexpected and wonderful presents.
It was really a wonderful evening for me, because I do like to be around people and study them. They were all so happy to be together, and there were so many little conversations going on, except for the 'meeting' time. What a great evening it was! I feel so blessed to know so many loving and caring people.
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
Each week they bring a little gift, not expensive, but very thoughtful, and secretly put it in the community room on top of the piano. No one knows who has whom. Sometimes the ladies send their little gift through the mail, or drop it off at the church incognito, or even have someone else bring it in, to keep their identity a secret.
This mysteriousness increases its momentum as the eight weeks go by. This past Sunday, the leader had invited the Secret Sisters and other women to come to her home at a certain hour, where all would enjoy a most delicious Pot Luck Dinner and some mighty fine desserts. Afterwards the meeting came to order, well, not really, but the leader said, "Now is the time." She asked each lady, "Do you have any idea who your Secret Sister is?" Most of the women had no clue, but a couple of them said they did have an inkling of their Secret Sister's identity.
Every member of the Secret Sister Society found out who had been sending or leaving such thoughtful inexpensive gifts to her. The variety of gifts was quite incredible, as a lot of thought went into the choosing of the gifts. Some ladies told about certain gifts, and one could see how thrilled they were at receiving such unexpected and wonderful presents.
It was really a wonderful evening for me, because I do like to be around people and study them. They were all so happy to be together, and there were so many little conversations going on, except for the 'meeting' time. What a great evening it was! I feel so blessed to know so many loving and caring people.
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Wakeful in the wee hours; drawing a pumpkin; my Christmas list.
Another wakeful moment, it turned into a wakeful two hours. This frequently happens to me. Time was, when this happened in my late teen years, I would think and think and think, instead of getting out of bed to write a letter or read for a while. I didn't know how to cope with this wakefulness. Now I realize that it is normal for me.
I used to think that we humans were all wired under the rule of the twenty-four hour cycle. I've begun to feel that some of us have different cycles. Mine seems to be something like thirty to thirty-six hours.
When this happens to me now, I get out of bed, take a drink of water, perhaps go into the kitchen and make a batch of cookies, or start cooking a soup of some kind, or do up my dirty dishes that I was too tired to do before bedtime, while listening to some of my old recorded audio cassettes. I like all kinds of music, but I tend to listen to polkas at these times. Years ago, I taped many of my favorite polka programs and am so grateful that I have them. There are very few polkas played on the radio in this area.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This morning, at 3:15, I got out of bed and decided to begin my drawing of a pumpkin to put on my garage door. On September 11th, I put up an old newspaper page with the United States flag, dated September 11, 2001 (which I found in one of my boxes from storage), and it has gotten very pale in the sunshine. I thought it would be 'a good thing' (as Martha Stewart says) to put up a drawing of a pumpkin on October 21. I drew a large leaning pumpkin, as they sometimes grow because of the weight they accumulate. I used some old orange crayons that I found in another box, and Voila! a Hallowe'en Pumpkin.
I may have told you already about my first-grade school on Buttonwood Street. One of the most vivid memories I have of first grade is the pumpkin we were asked to color. The teacher handed out sheets of paper with a large drawing of a pumpkin. We were directed to color this pumpkin orange. Orange has been my almost favorite color ever since, or maybe before, I can't remember that point, and it remains one of my most-liked colors.
What a beautiful pumpkin it was after I colored it with an orange crayon, one of eight colors in our little boxes of crayons. I still can envision that beautiful bright orange pumpkin! So that is what I did during the Wee Hours of this morning, but since I didn't have a line drawing of a pumpkin, I had to draw it myself. Now it's ready to tape to the garage door, as I write, and I am eager for daylight to arrive. I wish I knew how to add a photo to this blog, so you could see my lack of talent. But at least it's orange!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some of us in my large family like to draw names for our Secret Santa, and then we are to send an email of our Christmas list. We would like any gift, but the 'givers' want to have many suggestions to choose from, so they can surprise the 'receivers'. We usually have a lot of fun seeing what everyone has on their list.
A few days ago I found an old Christmas list of mine, and I'd like to publish it here, just for the sake of nostalgia.
"Grannamae's Christmas List: Postage stamps; A case of the giggles; Blank audio cassettes; Photo albums with pockets; Photo albums with paper pages and 'corners' for the photos; Armchair travel books to read; Picture travel books; Time in a bottle (or any suitable container); Calendars; Coffee mugs; Old poetry books, used; Old used music books; Old primary grades music book (preferably with "Two Little Roses" if possible -- if not possible, any will do); Mars Staedtler drawing pen; Eggs (decorative); Walkman cassette player."
My daughter Anne Marie had my name, and she did give me Time in a bottle: a baby food little jar with dried thyme in it, with a little cloth cover and bow for the lid. I thought that was quite clever. She also gave me some other things, but I don't remember what, now.
I must prepare a little list of things I might like for Christmas this time, before it's too late. If we are too late with our lists, we'll just accept what the Secret Santa desires to give us. That's all right with me, I am easy to please.
It's almost time for the daylight to arrive, so I'd better go and take a nap before that happens. I know I will have a nice day, as I usually do, and if necessary, I can take a power nap sometime during the day.
I'll see you around the Corner Post...
I used to think that we humans were all wired under the rule of the twenty-four hour cycle. I've begun to feel that some of us have different cycles. Mine seems to be something like thirty to thirty-six hours.
When this happens to me now, I get out of bed, take a drink of water, perhaps go into the kitchen and make a batch of cookies, or start cooking a soup of some kind, or do up my dirty dishes that I was too tired to do before bedtime, while listening to some of my old recorded audio cassettes. I like all kinds of music, but I tend to listen to polkas at these times. Years ago, I taped many of my favorite polka programs and am so grateful that I have them. There are very few polkas played on the radio in this area.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This morning, at 3:15, I got out of bed and decided to begin my drawing of a pumpkin to put on my garage door. On September 11th, I put up an old newspaper page with the United States flag, dated September 11, 2001 (which I found in one of my boxes from storage), and it has gotten very pale in the sunshine. I thought it would be 'a good thing' (as Martha Stewart says) to put up a drawing of a pumpkin on October 21. I drew a large leaning pumpkin, as they sometimes grow because of the weight they accumulate. I used some old orange crayons that I found in another box, and Voila! a Hallowe'en Pumpkin.
I may have told you already about my first-grade school on Buttonwood Street. One of the most vivid memories I have of first grade is the pumpkin we were asked to color. The teacher handed out sheets of paper with a large drawing of a pumpkin. We were directed to color this pumpkin orange. Orange has been my almost favorite color ever since, or maybe before, I can't remember that point, and it remains one of my most-liked colors.
What a beautiful pumpkin it was after I colored it with an orange crayon, one of eight colors in our little boxes of crayons. I still can envision that beautiful bright orange pumpkin! So that is what I did during the Wee Hours of this morning, but since I didn't have a line drawing of a pumpkin, I had to draw it myself. Now it's ready to tape to the garage door, as I write, and I am eager for daylight to arrive. I wish I knew how to add a photo to this blog, so you could see my lack of talent. But at least it's orange!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some of us in my large family like to draw names for our Secret Santa, and then we are to send an email of our Christmas list. We would like any gift, but the 'givers' want to have many suggestions to choose from, so they can surprise the 'receivers'. We usually have a lot of fun seeing what everyone has on their list.
A few days ago I found an old Christmas list of mine, and I'd like to publish it here, just for the sake of nostalgia.
"Grannamae's Christmas List: Postage stamps; A case of the giggles; Blank audio cassettes; Photo albums with pockets; Photo albums with paper pages and 'corners' for the photos; Armchair travel books to read; Picture travel books; Time in a bottle (or any suitable container); Calendars; Coffee mugs; Old poetry books, used; Old used music books; Old primary grades music book (preferably with "Two Little Roses" if possible -- if not possible, any will do); Mars Staedtler drawing pen; Eggs (decorative); Walkman cassette player."
My daughter Anne Marie had my name, and she did give me Time in a bottle: a baby food little jar with dried thyme in it, with a little cloth cover and bow for the lid. I thought that was quite clever. She also gave me some other things, but I don't remember what, now.
I must prepare a little list of things I might like for Christmas this time, before it's too late. If we are too late with our lists, we'll just accept what the Secret Santa desires to give us. That's all right with me, I am easy to please.
It's almost time for the daylight to arrive, so I'd better go and take a nap before that happens. I know I will have a nice day, as I usually do, and if necessary, I can take a power nap sometime during the day.
I'll see you around the Corner Post...
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Band Competition; My Birthday Weekend; My Birthday High.
Yesterday there was a Band Competition at Southaven High School, and it was the longest 'half-time show' ever! I had not seen anything so grand, inventive, colorful, beautiful, and interesting before. I whimsically called it a very, very good 'half-time' show! The part that I witnessed was about two hours long. Eight bands were in this second half of the program -- there were more high school bands presented in the first part of the Competition.
I am quite impressed by the amount of planning, rehearsing, and professional presentation of these students and leaders, who put it all together. My words are not enough to describe the excitement and emotions that are produced among the spectators. I was quite moved by what I saw.
My step-granddaughter Veronica plays flute in the DeSoto High School Band, which won many awards at the end of the day. Congratulations, Veronica, on your wonderful high school band! You all are great instrumentalists. Practicing does pay off!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Birthday Weekend was simply the tops! I was invited on last Sunday to my son Bill's home for a double birthday celebration, someone else in the family has an October birthday, and we all had a lovely time. The Birthday Dinner was planned by my granddaughter Melanie. She did have a bit of help in preparation. It was such a delicious dinner. Unusual fare, and just wonderful.
Then the birthday cake came in from the kitchen, and we two celebrants had to blow out our candles. Yes, indeed, we made a wish, and we got them all out together, not a one stayed lit. So we will get our wishes! The cake was a gluten-free cake and it was so tasty. Then cards and gifts were opened, which is always a lot of fun.
My Birthday Gift was presented to me on last Saturday evening - a week ago. Bill and Jennifer came over to pick me up so we could go to see my grandson Tim play and sing solo all of the songs he has written. We were very pleased with his performance, by the way. It was his first solo gig. This event felt special to me because it was on my Birthday Weekend.
The gift was presented to me just before we left the house. It was dark, and I had locked the door to be ready to jump into their vehicle and we'd be on our way. BUT Bill and Jen stalled and asked if they could come in and see something they had been talking about. All right, it's okay with me, so I opened the door, and we went into the far end of the house. At least Jen and I did so. Bill suddenly disappeared, and after I was showing Jen what she wanted to see, Bill came into the room where we were, and said that we had better get going. All right again...
We headed for the front door again, I was locking it, and I saw out of the corner of my eye, some motion in the darkness on my front lawn. Hmmmm. Then I saw it again, uh, oh, and saw what the moving balloons were doing, they were trying to get away from the item they were attached to. OH, MY GOSH,
I couldn't believe my eyes! They were attached to a small concrete bench a bit over two feet long, just my size; it was curved just a little, so lovely and perfect!
The oohs and ahhs and my little squeals, were nothing to what I was really feeling inside. Such a great and perfect gift! Well, we had to take a few pictures of it, and me sitting on it, and finally we were settled down enough to get going on our little trip to see Tim.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Monday, there were quite a few email Birthday Greetings, and several phone calls from my family and friends. My Birthday High was well in gear. Then around 2:30 pm, the local florist phoned and asked if I'd still be home in a little while, as he had something for me. I said YES, excitedly. He came not long after, and presented a huge ORANGE BOUQUET, with four orange Bird of Paradise flowers, several orange lilies, and two large orange yarrow blossoms. Lots of greenery in the bouquet, but I was quite impressed with the ORANGE flowers, as I love the color orange, and October for me is "Orange October."
You needn't ask if I was still on my Birthday High, I most certainly was, until I fell asleep that night. What a great weekend! This has been one of my very best birthdays ever. Thank you, everyone who made this possible. I appreciate all the cards, letters, emails, and phone calls, too.
I think I'm down off that Birthday High.
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
I am quite impressed by the amount of planning, rehearsing, and professional presentation of these students and leaders, who put it all together. My words are not enough to describe the excitement and emotions that are produced among the spectators. I was quite moved by what I saw.
My step-granddaughter Veronica plays flute in the DeSoto High School Band, which won many awards at the end of the day. Congratulations, Veronica, on your wonderful high school band! You all are great instrumentalists. Practicing does pay off!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Birthday Weekend was simply the tops! I was invited on last Sunday to my son Bill's home for a double birthday celebration, someone else in the family has an October birthday, and we all had a lovely time. The Birthday Dinner was planned by my granddaughter Melanie. She did have a bit of help in preparation. It was such a delicious dinner. Unusual fare, and just wonderful.
Then the birthday cake came in from the kitchen, and we two celebrants had to blow out our candles. Yes, indeed, we made a wish, and we got them all out together, not a one stayed lit. So we will get our wishes! The cake was a gluten-free cake and it was so tasty. Then cards and gifts were opened, which is always a lot of fun.
My Birthday Gift was presented to me on last Saturday evening - a week ago. Bill and Jennifer came over to pick me up so we could go to see my grandson Tim play and sing solo all of the songs he has written. We were very pleased with his performance, by the way. It was his first solo gig. This event felt special to me because it was on my Birthday Weekend.
The gift was presented to me just before we left the house. It was dark, and I had locked the door to be ready to jump into their vehicle and we'd be on our way. BUT Bill and Jen stalled and asked if they could come in and see something they had been talking about. All right, it's okay with me, so I opened the door, and we went into the far end of the house. At least Jen and I did so. Bill suddenly disappeared, and after I was showing Jen what she wanted to see, Bill came into the room where we were, and said that we had better get going. All right again...
We headed for the front door again, I was locking it, and I saw out of the corner of my eye, some motion in the darkness on my front lawn. Hmmmm. Then I saw it again, uh, oh, and saw what the moving balloons were doing, they were trying to get away from the item they were attached to. OH, MY GOSH,
I couldn't believe my eyes! They were attached to a small concrete bench a bit over two feet long, just my size; it was curved just a little, so lovely and perfect!
The oohs and ahhs and my little squeals, were nothing to what I was really feeling inside. Such a great and perfect gift! Well, we had to take a few pictures of it, and me sitting on it, and finally we were settled down enough to get going on our little trip to see Tim.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Monday, there were quite a few email Birthday Greetings, and several phone calls from my family and friends. My Birthday High was well in gear. Then around 2:30 pm, the local florist phoned and asked if I'd still be home in a little while, as he had something for me. I said YES, excitedly. He came not long after, and presented a huge ORANGE BOUQUET, with four orange Bird of Paradise flowers, several orange lilies, and two large orange yarrow blossoms. Lots of greenery in the bouquet, but I was quite impressed with the ORANGE flowers, as I love the color orange, and October for me is "Orange October."
You needn't ask if I was still on my Birthday High, I most certainly was, until I fell asleep that night. What a great weekend! This has been one of my very best birthdays ever. Thank you, everyone who made this possible. I appreciate all the cards, letters, emails, and phone calls, too.
I think I'm down off that Birthday High.
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
Monday, October 10, 2011
Coal town reminiscences; baloney sandwiches; Kool-Aid popsicles.
For part of my childhood, from about age four or five, to my ninth year, we lived in the coal town of Larksville, at its edge. We neighborhood kids always had friends because almost every family had children. I remember Dorothy, Mildred, Connie, Dolores, Elaine...
We would play the games or pastimes appropriate to our ages, and we'd always come home covered with the grime that kids in coal towns usually have on them. The fine coal dust sifts down on our porches, the porch railing, the steps leading down to the ground, the unpaved streets, our little wagons and other pull-toys, our clothing, and ourselves.
Sometimes we played in the dirt, making little roads with our fingers, or piling up the soil/dirt to make little hills. We would also walk along the culm bank up the hill from our school, and you could call that real grime, because a culm bank is the residual from coal mining. Sometimes they're small, sometimes they're like little mountains.
Sometimes we were asked by our parents to go to the culm bank and try to find a few pieces of coal for our coal stove. One of my little girlfriends lived right next to a culm bank, and we would play on her porch, and under her porch behind the lattice-work with our little shovels, or our dollies, or pretending to hide. We'd also put on a little show, the two of us, one of us sitting on their porch swing, as the audience, and the other a few feet away, singing, or reciting a poem we learned in school, or acting out a bit of something, like cooking, or reading a book, or writing on an imaginary blackboard.
Another girlfriend and I would color to our heart's content on the porch, or in the house, and it was usually a coloring book with line drawings. I don't remember ourselves drawing pictures to color. It was always a coloring book. Such beloved coloring pages! One of my very favorites was a little house with flowers in the front of the house, a fence, and a gate. The flowers were quite often hollyhocks, as they were very popular in those days. I still LOVE fences and gates!
During those years, we moved at least three times that I know of. While we lived in the last place, I was getting to the age of being able to go to the mid-block store for my mom or dad, in the evening. One that I remember was probably not even an eighth of a mile from our back door to her front door. There was an evening that I went to the store to get some baloney for my dad's lunch for the early morning departure to work at the nearby coal mine. I had the flashlight in my hand since it was dark already, and in our dirt alley to the dirt street, I was bending down with the light shining onto the ground, very close. I don't know what I was doing that for, maybe to see all the tiny pebbles and gravel, or just because... and a woman going by said, "What are you looking for? Night walkers?"
Night walkers are earthworms that the fishermen use as bait when they go fishing. Many of the men liked to go fishing on their time off from work. If it had rained, you might find earthworms crawling all over the alley, but usually one looks for night walkers in the grass or near the grass.
I came home with the baloney, and then I suppose I had to get ready for bed and say nighty-night. Everyone in those days liked baloney sandwiches. Sometimes the baloney was ground up and mixed with some pickle relish and mayonnaise, and it was a real favorite. Oooohh, I shouldn't have mentioned that, now I'm going to crave some of that baloney mix. Sometimes the housewife would fry the baloney in the frying pan and maybe have some potatoes to cook to go along with it. To fry a slice of baloney, you have to put a little cut in about four places along the outside of the circular slice, to prevent it from curling up.
On another street, Chestnut Street, there was a lady who ran a small grocery/candy store. She would make some Kool-Aid and fill the metal ice cube trays with the very popular beverage. Each ice cube would have a wooden popsicle stick put in it, and into the freezer they'd go. You could buy one of those luscious Kool-Aid popsicles for a penny. We would go to the store on a very warm day with our pennies, and get a popsicle for each of us. You'd suck on one corner, and the color would slowly disappear from that corner as you melted it in your mouth. Then on to the next corner. Such a wonderful treat for just a penny.
In our first house, we had a small apartment, and I think I may have been around four. My brother is a year and a half younger than I. He had locked himself in the bathroom. You know how children like to play with doorknobs. I think my aunt and uncle were living in the same house for a time, and all of the grown-ups were trying to figure out how to tell him to unlock the door, but apparently he was too young to do that. We had been having breakfast or lunch, and I remember how I brought his plate with a fried egg on it, wanting desperately for the grown-ups to give it to him. I don't know how they got him out of there, if they had to remove the hinges, or if someone located a key that would work. I wonder if he had thrown the key out the window? or down the toilet?
There was another incident involving my brother. At our second place, he made friends with Georgie, and they spent a lot of time together, with wagons, and doing lots of things that boys four to six do. He and Georgie were good buddies. Almost. For some reason, Georgie hit him in the forehead with a metal dustpan. The wound bled. Our mom took my baby brother into our house and fixed it up and my brother said vehemently, "I'm never going to play with him again!" The very next day, he and Georgie were good buddies again.
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
We would play the games or pastimes appropriate to our ages, and we'd always come home covered with the grime that kids in coal towns usually have on them. The fine coal dust sifts down on our porches, the porch railing, the steps leading down to the ground, the unpaved streets, our little wagons and other pull-toys, our clothing, and ourselves.
Sometimes we played in the dirt, making little roads with our fingers, or piling up the soil/dirt to make little hills. We would also walk along the culm bank up the hill from our school, and you could call that real grime, because a culm bank is the residual from coal mining. Sometimes they're small, sometimes they're like little mountains.
Sometimes we were asked by our parents to go to the culm bank and try to find a few pieces of coal for our coal stove. One of my little girlfriends lived right next to a culm bank, and we would play on her porch, and under her porch behind the lattice-work with our little shovels, or our dollies, or pretending to hide. We'd also put on a little show, the two of us, one of us sitting on their porch swing, as the audience, and the other a few feet away, singing, or reciting a poem we learned in school, or acting out a bit of something, like cooking, or reading a book, or writing on an imaginary blackboard.
Another girlfriend and I would color to our heart's content on the porch, or in the house, and it was usually a coloring book with line drawings. I don't remember ourselves drawing pictures to color. It was always a coloring book. Such beloved coloring pages! One of my very favorites was a little house with flowers in the front of the house, a fence, and a gate. The flowers were quite often hollyhocks, as they were very popular in those days. I still LOVE fences and gates!
During those years, we moved at least three times that I know of. While we lived in the last place, I was getting to the age of being able to go to the mid-block store for my mom or dad, in the evening. One that I remember was probably not even an eighth of a mile from our back door to her front door. There was an evening that I went to the store to get some baloney for my dad's lunch for the early morning departure to work at the nearby coal mine. I had the flashlight in my hand since it was dark already, and in our dirt alley to the dirt street, I was bending down with the light shining onto the ground, very close. I don't know what I was doing that for, maybe to see all the tiny pebbles and gravel, or just because... and a woman going by said, "What are you looking for? Night walkers?"
Night walkers are earthworms that the fishermen use as bait when they go fishing. Many of the men liked to go fishing on their time off from work. If it had rained, you might find earthworms crawling all over the alley, but usually one looks for night walkers in the grass or near the grass.
I came home with the baloney, and then I suppose I had to get ready for bed and say nighty-night. Everyone in those days liked baloney sandwiches. Sometimes the baloney was ground up and mixed with some pickle relish and mayonnaise, and it was a real favorite. Oooohh, I shouldn't have mentioned that, now I'm going to crave some of that baloney mix. Sometimes the housewife would fry the baloney in the frying pan and maybe have some potatoes to cook to go along with it. To fry a slice of baloney, you have to put a little cut in about four places along the outside of the circular slice, to prevent it from curling up.
On another street, Chestnut Street, there was a lady who ran a small grocery/candy store. She would make some Kool-Aid and fill the metal ice cube trays with the very popular beverage. Each ice cube would have a wooden popsicle stick put in it, and into the freezer they'd go. You could buy one of those luscious Kool-Aid popsicles for a penny. We would go to the store on a very warm day with our pennies, and get a popsicle for each of us. You'd suck on one corner, and the color would slowly disappear from that corner as you melted it in your mouth. Then on to the next corner. Such a wonderful treat for just a penny.
In our first house, we had a small apartment, and I think I may have been around four. My brother is a year and a half younger than I. He had locked himself in the bathroom. You know how children like to play with doorknobs. I think my aunt and uncle were living in the same house for a time, and all of the grown-ups were trying to figure out how to tell him to unlock the door, but apparently he was too young to do that. We had been having breakfast or lunch, and I remember how I brought his plate with a fried egg on it, wanting desperately for the grown-ups to give it to him. I don't know how they got him out of there, if they had to remove the hinges, or if someone located a key that would work. I wonder if he had thrown the key out the window? or down the toilet?
There was another incident involving my brother. At our second place, he made friends with Georgie, and they spent a lot of time together, with wagons, and doing lots of things that boys four to six do. He and Georgie were good buddies. Almost. For some reason, Georgie hit him in the forehead with a metal dustpan. The wound bled. Our mom took my baby brother into our house and fixed it up and my brother said vehemently, "I'm never going to play with him again!" The very next day, he and Georgie were good buddies again.
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
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