I have always liked this photograph of my paternal grandparents, Louise Elizabeth (Lautner) King and Dominick King. They are wearing period dress for the celebration of Traverse City’s Centennial celebration in 1947. The photo made me wonder what the celebration and Traverse City were like in 1947.
My grandmother was 35 years old, and my grandfather 44. They were the parents of three boys; my father was the youngest and would have been 5 years old that summer. Did they dress the boys in period outfits too? I’ve never seen any photos to indicate they did.
Traverse City did not hold its annual Cherry Festival in 1947 because of the Centennial festivities. The majority of men in the area grew a beard in honor of the celebration. This photo is the only one I have ever seen of my grandfather with a beard.
Instead of having young “glamour girls” honored with the title of parade queen, the Traverse City Historical Society was assigned the task of finding an honorary Queen of the Centennial. The queen was to be someone who had lived in the area a lengthy amount of time and could portray the pioneering spirit of the celebration. I did not find anything to indicate who was awarded this honor. The only link I could find indicating information on the celebration required payment of a newspaper subscription and I chose not to.
For the Centennial at least three parades were planned. A children’s parade and pet parade on July 2nd, followed by the big parade on July 3rd. The big parade was planned as a purely historical parade. It was to be divided into sections with each segment portraying an episode or period in the history of the Traverse City community. It was to include floral floats, marching groups, old vehicles, Indians, lumberjacks and other items relative to the pioneer history.
Unable to locate information on the actual celebration, I decided to see what I could find out about the “period” clothing my grandparents are dressed in. The clothing my grandfather is wearing appears to be a tailcoat, which was squared off at the waste in front and cut into long tails at the back. Tail jackets were in style in the 1840’s, and it was fashionable to wear the jacket with lighter colored trousers, so it would have been fitting for their period costume.
The dress my grandmother is wearing is of a style I could not locate. I did find that synthetic dies had led to bright wild colors in clothing, though I don’t believe prints were generally used. Low sloping shoulders and bell-shaped skirts were in fashion, moving into a Gothic Revival style. Another article stated that a long-wasted bodice, narrow sleeves, and a full dome-shaped skirt that skimmed the floor were in style.
Because I could find nothing that resembled the dress my grandmother is wearing, I wonder if it were perhaps something she obtained from an older family member or friend, or whether she obtained a pattern and sewed the outfit on her own.
A Bit of History
In 1847 Traverse City was a small community which originated because a Reverend was looking for a place to settle with his family. The Reverend settled on the banks of the Boardman River. Traverse City remained an outpost until 1864, when the first road was built through the forest to the settlement.
In 1851 one of the owners of the Hannah, Lay & Co. Mill went to Washington DC and requested the new settlement have a post office called the Grand Traverse City. Because at that time Old Mission had a Grand Traverse Post Office, they shortened the name to Traverse City. In 1872 the railroad connected Traverse City to Grand Rapids.
Traverse City has been listed as the second best small town for travelers to visit in the United States. Each July during Cherry Festival, more than 500,000 people visit the town. The festival was first held in 1926 and now features about 150 events and activities, 85% of which are free.
Between the festival, tourism and having some of the best wine in the Midwest, resident population in Traverse City is now around 15,785.
I have a lot of family history in Traverse City, and my grandmother’s ancestors were some of the original settlers to the area. I am glad she and my grandfather were able to participate in Traverse City’s Centennial Celebration held 73 years ago.
The memories I have of my grandmothers, two very different but wonderful ladies, are as different as they were. Although they were both born during a time when women didn’t work outside the home, my paternal grandmother did on occasion out of necessity.
Both of my grandmothers wore a full apron when at home. When you arrived they were always happy to see you, and you knew your were going to be fed a full meal. While my maternal grandmother always made homemade pie, my paternal grandmother favored cake and cookies. Her sour cream drop cookies were the best!
Louise Elizabeth Lautner King was born on January 1, 1912. She was born into the well-known and respected Lautner family. The Lautner’s had immigrated from Bohemia in the 1800s.
Eight Lautner brothers settled a huge track of land that became known as the Lautner Settlement in Traverse City, and they became prominent dairy farmers. When my grandmother was growing up her father, Louis Lautner, was a restaurateur.
Grandma Wins Beauty Contest
My grandmother won a “most beautiful baby” contest when she was 2 years old. Her prize was a doll that was larger than she was. After having 3 sons, she gave the doll to the daughter of a needy family and thought she would never see it again.
When Grandma’s 90th birthday was announced in the Traverse City Record Eagle the family she had given that doll to decades before saw the announcement. They still had Grandma’s doll and Grandma was reunited with her prize possession at her 90th birthday party.
My grandmother’s desire was that the doll be donated to a museum. My aunt and uncle took the doll and a framed scrapbook page I made for Grandma showing her pictures with the doll at 2 years and 90 years to accompany the donation. I don’t know if the donation has been made. It would be neat to visit a Traverse City museum and see my grandmother’s doll on display.
When Grandma was 6 years old her father built the farmhouse she grew up in. Grandma remembered hearing the sirens that signaled the end of World War I on November 11, 1918 as her father was working on the home.
Grandma lived in that home from the time she was 6 years old until she placed herself into assisted living in her late 80’s. I don’t know the exact dates, but I estimate it was around 82 years she lived in that home.
My grandmother grew up at a time when education for females was not considered important. When she graduated from 6th grade her parents refused to attend the ceremony. They didn’t think it was important for her to be educated. I think it is sad that Grandma’s parents refused to witness this important day in her life.
Grandma had a bit of a wild side to her. She met the man that would become my grandfather when he and a friend pulled into the yard of the farm. She thought Grandpa was cute. When he invited her to go out riding in his car, she hurried to get her chores done and left before her parents knew.
Louise Elizabeth Lautner married Dominic Florian King on January 18, 1931. Grandma was 19 years old; Grandpa was 9 years older. Grandpa moved into the farmhouse with Grandma and her parents. A year after the marriage her parents moved out and Grandma and Grandpa continued to reside and raise their family on the farm.
After their marriage Grandma taught Grandpa to sign his name. He was a smart man and a hard worker but lacked a formal education, having only attended school through the 3rd grade.
My grandparents worked the farm and raised three boys there, including my father. They had a considerable amount of property, but that didn’t keep them from suffering financial loss as a result of the great depression. Due to a need for additional income my Grandmother sometimes worked outside the home in canning factories.
Memories of the Farm
From the time I was about 3 years old we lived several hours from my grandparents. Prior to that time we would visit, but I don’t have much recollection of time spent there.
On our trips to visit family in Traverse City we always stayed at the home of my maternal grandparents. We visited my paternal grandparents on every trip, but my memories of the farm are scant.
I do remember when they had the property across the street from their home, which included a barn and pigs. Other than walking over to see them, I don’t remember anything about the pigs or barn. I assume they slaughtered them for meat.
When my parents were dating my grandmother made Schwarz Sauer. That is a German soup made with pigs’ blood, but my mother never ate it. Grandma had made her an alternative dish when she was visiting during that meal.
I remember walking the woods of the property across the road, searching for morel mushrooms with my grandparents. The property seemed huge to me as a child, and it was sizeable.
They sold the land across the road when I was a young teen. It was purchased by a Mennonite family, and for a long time one huge house stood grandly on the land. That land is now a subdivision.
As an adult I drove through the subdivision and was impressed with what a prize piece of land my grandparents had and sold. There are areas on the property with a view of Grand Traverse Bay.
I have always wondered why my great-grandfather didn’t build his home on that section of land. The spot he chose for his home did not offer the scenic views available across the road.
Back on the other side of the road where the house is located, the property behind the house had two large barns and a chicken coop. I do not remember any of those having livestock in them, but I know that when the farm was in full operation it did.
As a child I remember going inside the barn with my father and grandfather. It was filled with farming equipment. I remember standing and tilting my head way back to see the upper loft. Being a city kid, I was amazed at the barn’s size.
There was an outhouse that still stands behind the barns. When the home was sold 2-3 years ago but had not been used in decades. I wish I had asked if there had originally been one closer to the home.
I know the electricity was put into the home when my father was a child. He spoke of running from the fields in excitement when the lights came on for the first time. I’m not sure when the house had plumbing installed.
I remember Grandma keeping ducks in a pen attached to the chicken coop. I wasn’t there often enough to have any detailed memories of that. There was a large field next to the house and the property ran as far as you could see behind the barns.
The property went all the way from M-72 where the house was back to Barney Road. They had a total of about 50 acres just on that side of the highway. As a teen my cousins, my sister, and I road snowmobiles on the property one winter. We ran in a loop through the field, back to Barney Road, around the woods and back. I was amazed at how far we could go and still be on their property.
The House and Yard
The house was unique, and part of that had to do with my grandparents remodeling the home before I was born. It had wide wood trim throughout that I always liked, and a big front porch. The porch was not often used, at least when we were there, but did have a glider seat on it.
The back of the house had a huge cement porch that resembled a patio. Near the house was the cistern, which we were warned to stay away from. A cistern is a reservoir tank for rainwater. When placed near a home like that it is often used for flushing toilets. I don’t know if that was its purpose, but it was near the bathroom.
The land was at different levels near the house, so on the side of the porch you could walk onto the driveway. From the back of the porch you had to go down steps to reach the yard. Because it was of sizeable height in that area Grandma had flowerbeds planted beside it. On the other side of the porch, you could again walk right off and into the lawn.
Grandma had a wash line in her backyard. There were flowers planted at each of the poles, and what most didn’t know is that was where her deceased German Schnauzers were buried.
The first, Poody, was trained to do tricks. I remember as a kid how fun it was to watch him jump through a hoop held in different positions. He would also sing when prompted.
After Poody was given his resting place, Grandma and Grandpa got Hantze. They decided not to train Hantze to do tricks, but he was a good dog. Hantze traveled with them, and loved a nice dish of ice cream.
The back porch was where Grandma enjoyed sitting. She had a large rose bush along the house that my mother had purchased for her early in my parent’s marriage. Grandma had a garden hose that ran out of the house for watering the flowers, but the best was the hose direct from the well.
One time my sister got the hose from the house and sprayed me with it. It had a lot of power, but Grandpa said he would fix me up and took me to the well house. He gave me a hose that ran direct from the well and the pressure was awesome!
I was able to stand on the back porch and spray my sister, Carol, as she was running away. She was almost to the barns before I couldn’t spray her anymore. I can still see the spray of water arching up into the sky and back down at Carol’s back as she ran. What fun that was!
On the Inside
We never entered that house through the front door. You always pulled up into the drive, went down by the barns and turned around, then drove up and parked on the drive so you were facing the road when ready to leave. Grandma lived on M-72 and cars went by fast.
You would enter the back door, which took you into a shed. You would go down a few steps, then back up a few steps into the back of the kitchen. If you turned left before entering the kitchen, you stepped up into the storage area of the shed.
The shed had a counter and cupboards. It was an overflow storage of sorts and where grandma sat cakes and cookies so they stayed cool until ready to serve. It was also through this area that you walked to go upstairs.
The kitchen was a huge, traditional country kitchen. The door you entered through from the shed had a glass center, so you always knew if Grandma was in the kitchen when you arrived. She would come rushing to the back door to greet you upon arrival.
As you stepped in there was a large farmer’s sink to the right. That was used for washing up after you had been in the garden or other miscellaneous tasks. There were two large wooden rocking chairs, one on each side, my favorite spot in the kitchen.
To the left was Grandpa’s chair, and beside that a long low table holding magazines and other miscellaneous items. Grandma’s chair is on the right, next to the window. From there you can look out onto the drive if awaiting the arrival of guests.
When visiting I loved sitting in the large wooden rocker and talking with Grandma as she prepped food. Chatting involved catching up on the latest gossip. You found out everything that was going on in the family.
Grandma loved gossip! I can still here her saying “oh go on!” when she was questioning something or as emphasis in one of her stories.
Beyond those rocking chairs was the kitchen table and refrigerator, and then the stove, counters and cupboards stretched across the back. There was a stool Grandma would sit on while cooking, which allowed her to keep an eye on food while chatting.
The layout of my grandparent’s house was interesting. Probably because they had done some remodeling, which added character to the layout. I loved the wide molding and built-in cabinets.
Leaving the kitchen you stepped into what I had always known as the living area. To the left was the entry to the bathroom. Normally not something worthy of mention, but I always thought it was interesting it had another door that went out into the shed. Most likely because it made it easier to access the bathroom if coming from upstairs.
The living area itself was long and narrow, running probably 2/3 the depth of the house. The part immediately off the kitchen had once been a formal dining area. This was evident by the huge built-in china cabinet. That is where Grandma displayed family china, photos and knick-knacks.
In front of the china cabinet was a recliner, and next to it a stand with the black rotary phone on it. This was a convenient set-up, because Grandma could sit down and talk on the phone, but still have a clear view of the television at the other end of the room.
The rest of the room had ample seating for family gatherings, plus a small organ. Grandma enjoyed playing the organ, polka music being her favorite. Off the front of the living room was the front door.
Off the side of the living room was what my grandparents used as a bedroom. I believe it had originally been a parlor. There was no door, just an arched entry with built-in book cases on either side that faced into the living room. The bedroom itself was bright and welcoming with windows on two of the walls.
Upper Floor and Basement
I didn’t get into the upstairs or basement of my grandparent’s home except on a few occasions. I found them both interesting and worthy of mentioning.
The upstairs was, as typical of the day, unheated. It was made into two bedroom areas, but there was no doorway between, just opening to walk through one room and into the next. That is where my father and his two brothers slept when growing up.
One neat feature was that on both sides of the room there were small doors below a slanted ceiling. That was how you accessed a long narrow attic space. I remember Grandma had all kinds of things stored inside. Lots of unknown treasures!
My grandparents had a Michigan basement. I’m a city kid, I was amazed to go down into a basement that had dirt walls and a dirt floor. It was cool down in there and that was where she stored produce. It was dark and damp, had a low ceiling, and without someone with me I would have found it scary.
Things About Grandma
My grandmother had a wonderful sense of humor and loved a good laugh. She enjoyed attending parades, festivals, and loved polka music.
I didn’t realize it until she was gone, but my grandmother had a talent for writing. After she died I saw poems she had written in her 80’s and they were very good. I wish I had known we shared that interest when she was still alive.
Another regret is that I wasn’t able to spend more time with her as an adult, hearing stories of her years growing up and living on the farm. There is much I missed by living so far away.
Grandma loved surprises. One year after I was married, I didn’t know what to get her for Christmas. She was in her late 70’s or early 80’s at the time, and I came up with an idea. I made her a certificate saying she would receive one gift a month for a year.
When I made that certificate, I had no idea what I would send her. It was a fun year for both of us. I was struggling to come up with ideas, and she was waiting anxiously for her monthly package to arrive. One of her favorite gifts didn’t cost me a penny.
I had received a head scarf for free with a cosmetic order. I didn’t wear scarfs but Grandma did, so off it went in the mail. She was thrilled! Grandma liked the print of the fabric, it was the perfect size, and it didn’t slip off her head like some of them did. I never anticipated that kind of success from a freebie!
Grandma was living on her own in that huge farmhouse. She didn’t drive and it was a good distance from town for anyone to reach her. Grandma had been in and out of the hospital a few times, and without telling anyone made some calls and decided that the next time she was hospitalized she would not be going home, but would instead go into assisted living.
That must have a hard adjustment, leaving the home she had been in from the time she was 6 years old. Grandma did like to socialize, and being in the home she no longer had to fix her own meals, so the move had its benefits.
Grandma Turns 90
Grandma was in the assisted living facility for her 90th birthday. The family decided to hold a surprise birthday party for her. It was a wonderful gathering with two very special moments.
Grandma had been best friends with Mary from the time they were 6 years old, but they hadn’t seen each other in years due to their advanced age. Mary’s daughter brought her to Grandma’s birthday party.
When Grandma saw Mary come in she jumped up and rushed over. They hugged and then Grandma announced to everyone who Mary was. Two best friends beaming with joy at being together again. If only all friendships could last like that.
The second special moment was when Grandma was presented with the doll she had won in the beautiful baby contest at age 2. She was very happy to see the doll and kept referring to it as her baby. Photos were taken of Grandma with her doll.
I later made a scrapbook page of her with the doll at ages 2 and at 90, which I framed and gave to her the following Christmas. It hung on her wall until she passed.
What do you give a woman for her 90th birthday? I didn’t want to do the normal stuff, so I decided to make a 90 Years of History book. I used my scrap-booking hobby to fill a 4” 3-ring binder.
I researched and found at least one event and coordinating photo for every year of Grandma’s life. These were not personal events, they were world events, U.S. historical moments, and technological advances. It all began with the sinking of the Titanic in 1912.
It was a fun project, and revealed how things had changed during her lifetime. I received a card from Grandma later that said it took her a while, but she read the entire book. She was also surprised at all the things that happened during her lifetime.
Grandma Liked Eye Candy
Grandma may have been old in years, but she still appreciated a good-looking man. When she first went into assisted living, we figured there must have been a male resident she liked. She took a bit more care with her hair and makeup. She also was wearing nicer looking clothes.
After one of her surgeries Grandma needed physical therapy. She told me her therapist was a good-looking man with a nice body. She summed it up with “he’s cute!” Grandma said she didn’t mind going to physical therapy at all!
When Grandma was turning 90 I knew she would receive tons of sentimental cards decorated with flowers. I decided to shake things up a bit.
The card that accompanied my gift had a well-built man, shirtless, in tight jeans and a cowboy hat sitting backwards on a ladder chair. I wrote inside that I thought she needed at least one card that wasn’t full of flowers. She loved it!
A couple weeks after the party I received a note that she really liked my card, and that she was still fanning herself. She may have been 90 but she wasn’t dead yet!
Grandma died in 2005 at the age of 93. The book and scrapbook page I made celebrating her 90th birthday were displayed at her memorial. The book was returned to me. The scrapbook page is to be displayed with the doll in a museum.
If I Could Go Back
I would love to go back and spend a day with Grandma on the farm. It would be a fun day, filled with laughter.
As enter the house through the shed and walk into the kitchen Grandma will turn from the sink and rush over saying “well, hello Gracie,” giving me a kiss and hug. She will walk me through the house, showing me anything new she has gotten since my last visit. I will get an update on each family member she has received a photo of.
We will sit in the living room talking for a while. Grandma will get out the old Victrola and records. I’ll crank the handle to hear the music just like I did as a child.
When the phone rings Grandma will rush over, sit in the chair and pick up the receiver. “Oh, hello Mary, I can’t talk right now, Gracie is here. I’ll call you later, Bye.” Mary may have been Grandma’s best friend, but when you were vising, you came first. That is a courtesy people have lost these days.
While Grandma fixes us something to eat I will sit in large wooden rocker and listen to her fill me in on the latest family news. She will sit on her stool by the stove waiting for the hot water to warm in the kettle.
Grandma will fix us both a cup of instant coffee. I think it was a “modern convenience” that she liked. Instant was the only type of coffee I ever remember having at Grandma’s house. I don’t normally drink instant, but when visiting Grandma, I do.
After lunch Grandma will go out in the shed to get a cake she baked for my visit. It is made from a cake mix, but exceptionally moist because she always adds a cup of sour cream to the batter.
We go outside and walk around the yard as she shows me her gardens and how they are doing. She decides the bushes need some water, and I haul a lawn chair over for her to sit in while holding the hose.
When the watering is done we sit on the back porch and enjoy the weather. She talks about how the nicely the rose bush is blooming against the house. We talk about the barn on the adjacent property, and how it is falling apart compared to how nice her barns look.
Before I leave Grandma grabs me a gallon jar of homemade pickled bologna, and another of homemade dill pickles to take with me. I’m in snack heaven!
As I climb into my car I look up. Grandma is watching out the kitchen window by her rocking chair. I knew she would be there to wave goodbye. She always is.
We all have memories from our childhood of what a grandma is. The type of grandmother I am is nothing like what my grandmothers were. Grandmas like them no longer exist.
My grandmothers were of the era where women stayed home, and when at home wore a full apron. They were excellent cooks and always made sure they fed everyone who visited. When you walked in the door, they were always happy to see you.
That is where the similarities in my two grandmother’s end. They were each special in their own way, but so very different.
My Maternal Grandmother
Grace DeVries Hilts was born May 3, 1899 and grew up one of 10 children. Her parents and some of her siblings were born in the Netherlands. Grandma was born in Jamestown, Michigan. Her mother died shortly after childbirth and her father married the family housekeeper.
Grandma did not get along with her stepmother and married the first man who asked her. She was 18 years old on August 11, 1917 when she took her wedding vows to Ralph Hilts in Hershey Michigan.
I have fond memories of my grandfather, but his stature in life was far below what my grandmother’s had been. I’m sure the early years of their marriage were most likely difficult.
Grandpa was a hardworking man and together they built a life, raising two boys and later my mother. When my mother was born her brothers were already 19 and 23.
My grandmother was 61 years old when I was born and she became my babysitter. Both my parents were employed full time in Traverse City, and because of the distance from their home in town to the farm, I essentially lived with my grandparents the first 2-3 years of my life.
My parents would drop me off at the farm on Sunday night, visit me on Wednesday evening, and pick me up on Friday night. Because of the time I spent at their home, I developed a very close bond with my grandparents, especially my grandmother.
Memories of things that were part of my life as a toddler have stayed with me for life.
Front Porch Sitting
My love of large front porches probably started with Grandma. I remember sitting on the large farm house porch as the sun was going down. We would watch children playing across the street, but we never talked to them, and they never came over.
The people across the street lived in a large barn and were referred to as “the cherry pickers.” I now realize they were Mexican migrant workers. They would arrive in Traverse City every summer to harvest the cherries.
We also sat on that porch during the day, and Grandma would give me the glass saltshaker off the kitchen table. She told me that if I could sneak up on a bird and get salt on its tail that it would not be able to fly.
Oh, how I tried to get salt on those tails, but I never accomplished that task. I wonder how much salt I put on Grandma’s front lawn. Thinking back Grandma must have found it quite entertaining to watch me try to tiptoe up on a bird, knowing perfectly well that the bird was far more keen then my young mind realized.
My grandmother had a ringer washer. Once the clothes had been washed and rinsed, each item had to be run through a ringer to squeeze the water out before being hung on the clothes line to dry.
My most vibrant memory of that machine is when my younger sister stuck her arm in the ringer, and it sucked her arm in and got stuck. Carol screamed and my mother slammed her hand down on a quick release, popping the ringer open. I’m not sure who was more scared, my sister who was stuck or me watching the entire scenario.
When the clothes were washed and rung out, they were carried out to hang on the wash line. I had my own little laundry basket and clothes pins.
A low wash line was strung for me at the end between two poles. That is where I had the task of hanging small items such as wash clothes. A very important task for a two year old.
Down on the Farm
It was a farm and chores had to be done. I remember going into the hen house with my grandmother and taking the eggs out from under the chickens.
I also remember she let me carry the egg basket back into the house – that was gutsy! I guess when the eggs are available daily if I broke a few it was no big deal.
We also fed the chickens. I’m not sure what Grandma gave them, but I remember it was in a pan and she would throw it over the top of what to me seemed like a super high fence. For years I wondered how she did that, but now realize it probably wasn’t as high my memory makes it out to be.
Grandma had a few rows of raspberry bushes, and I could go out and pick all the raspberries I wanted to eat. To this day I love fresh raspberries. I wonder if I got my love of other fresh fruit and vegetables from my time with my grandparents.
At night we would call the cows. I can still here her saying “Come Bessy, Come Bessy, Come Bessy Come.” The next thing you would see is the cows walking over the hill and heading to the fence where we stood.
Going to Get the Paper
While memories of my grandfather are not as strong, there was one daily activity I loved, and that was going to get the paper. He had to drive to a small store or gas station to pick it up.
This was before seat belts and car seats were used. I remember sitting in the center of the front seat, and as we drove he would let me push all the buttons on the radio. Then when we got to the store, I could look inside a chest freezer and pick out an ice cream or Popsicle. A simple routine that holds fond memories.
I also liked walking the garden with him when he would pick the tomato worms off the plants and drop them into a can. I don’t know what was in the can, but it couldn’t have been good because they died.
Another memory of my grandfather is being in his garage with him. He kept beer out there, tucked behind his toolboxes. He would pull one out and pop it open to drink it.
Thinking back that is the only place I ever saw him drink anything alcoholic. Beer was never kept in the house. My grandmother did not drink at all, so I don’t know if she opposed having it in the house or if he simply did that out of respect for her.
The Move From the Farm
As they aged my grandparents sold the farm. Even though we weren’t there often, they had kept a pony for my sister and I to ride when we visited. That would be no more.
They moved into two-story home on a smaller piece of property when I was a child. It was next to a cherry orchard. It was from there that I first saw the automatic cherry pickers.
I still remember the disappointment I felt seeing that machine violently shake the tree so the cherry’s would fall. I felt bad that the Mexican cherry pickers would no longer be climbing the trees with their buckets to harvest the crops.
While living in that house my grandfather passed away. I was in 9th grade when he died, and Grandma would move again. She moved to a house next to my aunt and uncle’s home.
Grandma didn’t drive, so I’m sure this made things more convenient for her, plus it was a ranch style, so easier to navigate. It did have one wonderful feature, a mini orchard behind it filled with an assortment of sour cherry, sweet cherry, plum and peach trees. A fruit lovers paradise!
Habits I learned and Things I Didn’t Learn
My mother always said I have traits of my grandmother that I probably acquired while living with her. One of those was the fact that I don’t easily share my feelings. I keep things to myself. I think over the years I have become more open, but I still walk a cautious line in that area.
I used to do a lot of embroidery, and I now have my grandmother’s embroidery basket. I remember my mother saying I make my stitches just like Grandma, tiny and precise.
One thing I didn’t learn and wish I had is how to tat. Grandma put tatting on the edge of everything she embroidered. Dresser scarves and pillow cases all were edged with tatting.
When it came to cooking, Grandma made the best beef and noodles. I never learned how. I remember my mother making it one time and I told her they weren’t as good as Grandma’s. She never made them again. I wish I knew how Grandma made them.
If I Could Go Back
If I could go back and spend just one more day with Grandma, what a wonderful day it would be. I would get up and not get dressed, just so I could hear her say one more time “get your duds on.”
I would enjoy watching her cook breakfast. I don’t know how she could prepare a full serving plate of over-easy eggs, never breaking a yoke going into the pan or onto the plate.
I would sit in the kitchen and observe her laying an antique curling iron over the stove burner to warm it up before curling her hair so we could go to town. Of course she would change into her “going to town dress” because a house dress wasn’t proper. Once we got home she would immediately change out of that dress and back into her house dress, placing a full apron over it.
I would enjoy the orange slice candies out of the candy dish on the coffee table. They are still one of my favorite candies. I would also grab a couple Windmill Cookies from the depression glass cookie jar that sat on the end of the kitchen table.
My foot would quietly work the peddle on her sewing machine up and down, amazed that she used to sew clothing on that old treadle machine. My mother said when I was little Grandma could look at me, take a piece of fabric and freehand cut a dress, sew it, and it would fit me perfectly.
I would sit and watch the goldfish inside the glass fishbowl that sits in a wobbly, antique metal fishbowl stand next to her chair. She enjoyed sitting and watching them.
At the end of the day Grandma and I would sit on the front porch as the sun goes down. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning, red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
I would watch Grandma standing in the drive waving as I backed down the drive, one last time.
Grandma died on February 11, 1988, one month after my son was born. I have always regretted not making the drive north so she could see her great-grandson prior to her death. Grandma’s health had been deteriorating following a stroke. My mother said she thought Grandma held just on long enough to know that I and my son, Patrick, were fine.
I hope you enjoyed reading about memories of my maternal grandmother. Watch for my upcoming Memories of Grandma–Part 2, which is about the memories I have of my paternal Grandma, Louse Elizabeth Lautner King.
Have you ever looked back on decisions made in your life and wondered What if I had made a the other choice? What would my life be like now?
Of course, the preponderances about how your life would have been different are all fiction, and they can be good or bad. So have some fun, wonder what if and see what you come up with. Here are a few of mine.
What if I had followed my dream of studying journalism and become a “breaking news” action reporter? I didn’t because I let my mother talk me out of it. Call is sexist, call it the era in which she was raised, or call it a mother being a mother.
But what if I had forged ahead on my dream? Would I have written great articles that resulted in a huge demand for my services? Would I have graduated from newspaper writing to televised reporting? Would I have traveled the world to exotic countries or dangerous war zones?
I will never know the answer, but sometimes the speculation leads to regret. I wish I had followed my dream. Now I write from the comfort of a motorhome while traveling throughout North America. I’m not a high-demand reporter, but I am having fun.
What if I had married my boyfriend from high school? We had been together off and on from the time I was in 7th grade until two years after I graduated high school. My parents didn’t like him. Friends assumed we would end up married. Heck, we assumed we would end up married.
Then I met the man that would become my husband. Ron and I were married 34 years when he died. If I hadn’t met Ron, would I have eventually married Brad?
Speculation is yes, but it wouldn’t have lasted. It was too volatile of a relationship. Good for a few months, then separate for a few months. He wanted commitment, but he didn’t want commitment.
Brad wasn’t ready for anything that required him to settle down and not play the field. Sixteen months after I met Ron, we married. I think on this one the What if would not have ended well. I think we are better as friends.
What if I had applied to Ford Motor Company when I had the opportunity? Ron was a Ford employee, and somewhere around 10 years into our marriage each employee was allowed to sponsor one application. He asked me if I wanted it and I turned it down.
I had always worked for small, family businesses. I was happy in that small, close-knit setting. He had complained about the red tape it always took to get anything accomplished in a big corporation.
Looking back, I may have made a huge financial mistake. What if I had applied and gotten hired? I would have worked at a higher pay scale, had my own benefits, and had my own pension upon retirement.
At the same time, maybe I didn’t make a mistake. From an emotional standpoint, I have never regretted working for small family-run businesses throughout my career. If I had taken that job, I might still be working but close to retirement.
If I had been hired into Ford I would never have had the opportunity to go to college and become a paralegal, another job I loved doing. I am now living and traveling in a motor-home full time throughout Canada and the United States. I work remotely during the hours I want.
I don’t have the benefits and financial security that job would have brought me, but I don’t think the What if would have led to as much personal happiness as I have enjoyed. That leads to my final scenario.
What if I had downsized into a Condo? After my husband passed away, I spent 2-3 years in a bit of a muddle both emotionally and financially. When I began to look at things closer I realized I was living beyond my means and needed to downsize.
While I pondered between moving to a smaller house or a condo I started separating my belongings into what I would keep and what I would put in a moving sale. Then the offer came.
Paul asked me to come on board with him and travel full-time in a motor-home. After analyzing my finances I realized it was feasible and changed my plans. I notified my boss I was leaving and started planning for the biggest downsize of my life.
Was it good decision? Yes. Travel between August 2019 and April 2020 went as planned, and we saw a lot of area. Covid-19 led us to the decision to stay put in Yuma, Arizona during the stay-home orders. We will remain here until August, when we finally hit the road again with stops planned in Port Huron, Michigan; Knoxville, Tennessee; and South Padre Island, Texas before we head back here to Yuma, Arizona for the winter.
So What if I had downsized into a condo or small house? I would still be doing cold Michigan winters and working full-time in an office. I would have spent the stay-at-home period isolated in my home by myself.
Instead I have traveled to many of the spots I may never have ventured to on my own, and there are many more to come. Some think I made a huge mistake to pack up and go before I reached retirement age. You know what I think – Better an Oops than a What if.
What are your What ifs in life? Do you regret the choices you made? Do you think your life is better because of them? Comment below on your what ifs in life.
I look around, the place has more people than normal for this time of year, but it is still pretty well emptied out. Why wouldn’t it be? Who wants to stay where the summer temperatures go as high as 120° Fahrenheit?
Yet, here I am. Our original plan was to leave here at the beginning of April and visit several national parks and scenic areas through several states before heading to Michigan to visit family. Then head south and west again, hitting Sault Lake City and Colorado Springs for photography and RV conferences before going for a three-month stay on South Padre Island, Texas, followed by winter back here in Yuma, Arizona.
Those plans have been crushed by the Coronavirus shutdowns. We have extended our stay here in Yuma until at least August 3rd. We are trying to secure reservations in Michigan for somewhere between mid-August to early October, but so far have not had any luck. The state is still locked down and the few campgrounds that are open do not have long-term spots available.
Time will tell if we travel, where we will be, and when we will get there. When you live full-time in an RV, campgrounds are an essential part of life.
We are living through an event that will be written about in history books. Have you recorded your stay-at-home location and changes in lifestyle? Have you noted the schools closing, people doing work-at-home because businesses closed, hospitals overrun with patients, people wearing face masks and gloves to protect those around them?
If you have young children, have you recorded their thoughts on what is going on around them? These are memories that may be forgotten over time but will be important to future generations.
Paul and I are hanging tight in Yuma, Arizona. I walked around the park and took snapshots of the camp, documenting the place that was full when we arrived in February and is now almost empty. A lot of the people here in the winter are Canadian snowbirds who were ordered to return to Canada in March or lose medical insurance due to the pandemic.
So where are you? Have you documented the event? Leave me your comments below.
Hard to believe it has been seven weeks since I started my new lifestyle of living on the road full time in a motor home (a/k/a full-time RV). In that amount of time I have visited Ontario, Quebec, New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia, Canada and Bar Harbor/Acadia National Park, Maine in the United States.
One thing you have to do when living this way is be conservative, be flexible, and enjoy life. Sometimes things go well, and other times the best laid plans can be foiled. Highlights of my travels and learning curve:
The best laid plans can be foiled when you make a day trip three hours away only to discover that town’s power is out and all businesses (including museum you wanted to visit) are closed.
Pulling off for a quick lunch break takes more planning in a 35-foot motor home towing a vehicle than it does in a car.
Ottawa, Ontario is the capitol of Canada and is a very interesting city, but bring your walking shoes. There is one parking lot in the entire city and a lot of area to cover. If you take a double decker bus tour it is a great way to get around, but you may end up with a tour guide who has a strong French accent and is difficult to understand.
Canadians are very pro recycling The question in grocery stores is “Do you have your own bag?” not “paper or plastic?” Some stores charge you for use of their bags.
You can not stock up when items are on sale. There is no extra room beyond the refrigerator and pantry.
There is a large percentage of people in Canada who hang their laundry outside to dry….many on pulley-style clotheslines.
When living in an RV, laundry is a necessary evil that must be done in a laundromat (most campgrounds have them) every 2-3 weeks.
You can live in a house for years and never wave at your neighbors, but in a campground everyone waves at everyone else.
The architecture and culture of Quebec City, with its fortification wall, Citadelle, and French influence is like taking a step into another country.
When you travel full time you need down time. This is not a vacation, it is a lifestyle.
When you give up on the road signs being true and think you will never see a moose, one shows up on the side of the road and you do not have the camera ready.
No matter how many times you see them, the difference between high tide and low tide at the Bay of Fundy is amazing. This is where you see the world’s largest tides.
Getting your mail an average of once every four to six weeks takes planning so it arrives in a city where you plan to be at the appropriate time.
A GPS can be your best friend and your worst enemy. Our Trucker GPS in the RV took us down a road that had been re-done two years ago and no longer goes through — it is now a dead end. When towing you cannot back up because it damages the tow unit, so we had to disconnect the jeep, turn the RV around and then re-connect before we could continue. Of course it would have helped if Ellsworth, Maine had put up a “Dead-End” sign, as a woman on the road said it happens all the time and they have been after the city to do something.
In many spots what is promoted as a “scenic drive” is overgrown with nothing to see.
Convection oven cooking is not difficult, just different. The three burners on the stove-top is much harder to adjust to as it does not easily accommodate large pans.
I have not adjusted to the feel of the motor home when driving in high winds or uneven pavement. That one is going to take some time!
This is an awesome way to live and I’m glad I took the plunge and jumped in with both feet.
As time goes on I look forward to sharing more of my travel adventures with everyone.
My first six days as a Nomad were interesting, fun, and sometimes frustrating. In many ways it feels more like a vacation rather than a lifestyle change. It is relaxing and interesting, and sometimes not at all what is planned. If I can experience all this in six days, I can’t imagine what the future will bring.
On Monday we left Port Huron, Michigan and traveled to Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, Canada. Our original plan was to stay only two nights, but after reviewing travel information about the surrounding area decided to extend our stay to a total of four days.
On Tuesday we visited the Bush Pilot Heritage Centre in Sault Ste. Marie. Paul was a bush pilot when he lived in Owen Sound, Ontario as a teen so this was on his “hit list.” The museum was interesting, with several planes on display inside the hanger where the museum is located. We viewed two movies, the first was an “on board” experience with a bush pilot, and of course took the rider through a series of mistakes and mishaps that can happen on a plane, including an unexpected storm, dozing off with the plan on autopilot, and more. The second movie was in 3D and took you into the heart of fighting forest fires. You experienced time in flight with the commander of the entire firefighting operation, in flight with a pilot doing water drops, and on land with a ground firefighting crew. Both movies are well worth the time it takes to view them.
A small town about four hours northwest of Sault Ste. Marie is the home of Winnie-the-Pooh, and houses a statue of Winnie, as well as a Winnie-the-Pooh and Railroad Museum. I wanted to go there so a day trip was planned. Part of the trip goes along the shore of Lake Superior, and we figured we would find photo ops along the way. A visitor guide worker had told us about an off-road trail on that stretch which Paul wanted to check out. We didn’t locate the trail she used, but did access a logging trail, which about 20 minutes in we decided was not offering any photo ops so turned around and continued on our journey.
We did find a couple spots to stop and take photographs of Lake Superior, and a small rapids and river we walked in and photographed. It was interesting that this entire route had very few towns, gas stations, or any other type of business or rest area to stop at. So scarce they were practically non-existent. We saw a rest area/visitor center which made a good stop for a few minutes. They had a small gift shop where Paul decided to pick up a couple energy bars to tie us over until lunch, which we planned to eat in White River. That purchase turned out to be a very good decision.
We munched on our energy bars, and decided to stop for gas as we rolled into White River, because we would need it to make the full journey back to Sault Ste. Marie. There were barriers up across the gas pumps and an attendant walked over and informed us that the pumps were not working because the entire town of White River had lost power and nothing was open. We drove through town and took pictures of the Winnie-the-Pooh statue. The attendant was correct, absolutely everything, including the museum we had just driven four hours to visit, was closed so we started our journey back.
Not too far south of White River was a small gas station with full-service pumps. The attendant there shared that the last time White River lost power they were out for a week. He also let us know that there was a restaurant on Hwy 17 just south of Wasmus where we could get lunch/dinner. By now it was after 2:00 pm and we were definitely getting hungry.
We drove the two hours south and located the restaurant. Our luck had not yet changed; on the front door hung a sign that they were closed until 5:00 pm. It was only 4:30 so we decided to drive on. We were not far from our campground when we found The Voyageur Lodge, which included a small restaurant. The menu was limited, but the food very good. Paul had an open face hamburger, which had gravy to which he added mushrooms and onions. It normally included fries and coleslaw, but he switched the fries for onion rings, which he said were very good. I opted for a fish sandwich which also came with fries. The sandwich was made with whitefish which was lightly breaded and very nicely done. We shared a butter tart for dessert, also very tasty.
Our final day in Sault Ste. Marie we drove into town and visited the historical canal sight. At the end of the island was a swing damn, one of only nine built and the last in existence. It is used in emergency situations if there is a problem with the lock. This is also where the lock is located for small boats, and we were lucky enough to see two of the Soo Locks Tour boats use the lock at the same time. The difference in elevation between Lake Superior and Lake Huron is 21 feet, so quite interesting to observe the lock in operation. A nice way to finish out our stay.
Friday morning we said goodbye to Sault Ste. Marie and drove east through Ontario, stopping at a small campground in Lavigne, Ontario. We are here only for two nights. One day of rest and computer work before continuing our journey to Ottawa, the capitol of Canada, where we plan to spend four days.
We did take some time from our paperwork to photograph some very decorative scarecrow displays around town. These have been prepared as part of a plowing competition in September. I finished out our last night in Lavigne with a walk around the park, taking a few photographs of Lake Nippising, which the campground is located on.
So far my life as a nomad has been interesting and relaxing, even if Winnie-the-Pooh’s hometown did leave me a bit frustrated. I guess in this lifestyle you simply have to go-with-the-flow when rocks appear in the river.
When you live with constant turmoil you become accustomed to living as if on a constant roller coaster ride. The twists and turns of upheaval in your life create emotional stress, and yet you constantly adjust, cope, and keep on moving forward. This becomes so normal you do not even realize how much stress you are constantly under.
That has been my life for the past few years. The loss of my grandchildren to foster care and then a battle with CPS when we tried to adopt which resulted in them being lost to adoption by strangers. My son serving six years in prison for home invasion, dealing with the constant dangers that environments holds. My mother, father, father-in-law, and then my husband battling cancer and passing away, all within a three year period. My son being released from prison and paroled to my home; something I had originally looked forward to but which became a very stressful situation.
Following my husband’s death I made a determination that I needed to downsize out of my home and into something smaller. In the midst of planning for that made a decision to instead downsize into an RV and travel full-time. During this process I informed both of my adult children that I was no longer going to be able to subsidize them financially, something my husband had always done while he was alive. This resulted in more stress, but over time success was achieved. They are both now living financially on their own.
I am finally at a point where success is on the horizon. My new lifestyle begins on Monday. I closed on my house today. Friday is my last day of work. My daughter moved her family north and is now residing near her fiance’s parents, a situation that is serving well. Both Caroline and Rob are working at new jobs and my three grandchildren are enjoying life in a more country setting close to their other grandparents.
My son, now out of prison for 1-1/2 years, has obtained his CDL and is working in a position driving semi. He and his ex-wife have reconciled and are residing in a home they rent near his workplace. I am at peace that I do not have to worry about him being cold, undernourished, injured or killed in prison. I wish him success.
For the first time in years my mind is at peace. My children are both living on their own without my financial assistance, and I am going into semi-retirement. I will be residing full-time in a motor home, traveling the United States and Canada and doing part-time remote or seasonal work.
For the first time in years I can sleep without my mind churning over the problems, worries, and stress that plagued me for so long. I hope nothing happens to upset the apple cart. A mind at peace is a wonderful thing.
Life has been in a bit of a turmoil, but good turmoil, for a while now. I spent several months sorting through my belongings in preparation for downsizing from an 1800 sq. foot home into an RV and having an estate sale to eliminate what I am not taking with me.
I joined Paul in the RV on the 23rd of April, and my estate sale was held May 16-19th. The weather that has been miserably cold and rainy was, for the most part, warm and sunny that weekend….except for a tornado warning the last couple hours of the sale. The sale was a success, and the company I had conducting the sale for me is getting the home cleaned out so the real estate company and finalize steps needed to list it for sale.
Preparing to put my home up for sale created a whirlwind of things to be handled. As it turned out, the home needed a new roof, which has been completed. I hired someone to mow the lawns, and despite the mush the rain has created in spots, he managed to complete the task at least twice. I have someone hired to clean out flower beds and shrubbery, but the weather has prevented that from being completed thus far. Some inside drywall repair and painting, carpet cleaning, and power washing the outside of the home and it should be ready to go on the market. Hopefully it will be a quick sale.
Moving into a 35-foot RV creates challenges when trying to finding places for everything. The kitchen, bathrooms and bedroom are pretty well organized now. I still have lots of boxes to go through and where to put items. The problem is, being a writer, a good portion of those boxes contain paperwork, and I am not sure if they will all be able to stay. Other items end up in unusual places. My bottles of wine are under the bed, shoes are in a drawer, and at this point the driver’s seat is holding a chess board, backgammon board, and some paperwork. The number of boxes that have been emptied is impressive.
One of the greatest challenges is realizing that there is not the pantry, refrigerator, or freezer space I was accustomed to having in my home. One weeks worth of groceries for two people creates a full refrigerator. Our pantry is full. Convection oven cooking is not difficult, just an adjustment. Living is a bit more simplified. There isn’t room for clutter.
My Memorial Day weekend is a time for more sorting and organizing. Whatever you do this weekend I hope it is fun and enjoyable.
Anyone who has raised a boy can relate to the Dirt on My Shirt poem that I stumbled across recently. When I saw it memories of my son and my grandsons came to mind. It is like they are immune to the idea of cleanliness. If it looks like fun, dig right in.
I have very rarely seen my grandson, Corbin, with a clean face. I think it is magnetic and attracts dirt, all he has to do is walk across a room and it zeros in on him. Thinking back to when my son was growing up, there were all kinds of messes and things going on that bring to life the saying “boys will be boys.”
Here are some of my “boys will be boys” memories….
Walking into my backyard and Patrick and his friend had dug a huge hole in the ground. Why? Just for fun!
Patrick telling me about taking a boat down the canal using a battery-operated fan for a motor. I thought he was kidding until I was at a meeting and a mother who lived on the canal commented on these boys running a boat down the canal using a fan for a motor…she thought it was pretty ingenious!
My grandson, Corbin, telling me he didn’t have to wash his hands as he flipped them back and forth saying “see they are clean” and “I’ll wash them on Thursday.”
Socks that are filthy because why bother putting on shoes, you’re only going into the yard.
Cleaning out pockets filled with stones, grass, dirt, and miscellaneous other items.
At 2-1/2 to 3 years Patrick had a 2-foot ramp he would use to jump his 2-wheeler. My mother-in-law, who had raised three boys, didn’t give it a thought. My parents, who had raised two girls almost had heart failure when they saw him do the jump at 2-1/2 years.
My grandson, Austin at 2-3 years old running onto a water park and standing in the running sprinklers fully clothed in shoes, turtle neck top and overalls.
Creek findings in my garage: craw-fish, baby muskrat, fish, snails, snakes, turtles (Patrick, now 30-years old, has a large turtle in a tank in my garage right now) all brought home and kept in fish tanks in my garage.
Having all the screws in my dining room chairs removed by Patrick’s bare hands.
My grandson, Austin sliding ice cubes from his Koolaid around on the table; when asked what he was doing he said “washing the table.”
Hearing a crash and discovering my 2 year old son on top of my refrigerator.
Greasy/dirty clothes from fixing things…snow blowers, lawn mowers, anything that doesn’t work.
The list could go on forever, and thinking back on those memories makes me smile. After all, I can still look at Patrick, now 30 years old, and he will have dirt on his shirt, dirt on his hands, and dirt on his face due to something he has been working on. Oh, and he still leaves dirt on the refrigerator handle when grabbing something to drink.
It is a bizarre thought, something that hadn’t really dawned on me. Then someone considerably younger then me made a comment that he was wondering how many places he has already been for the last time. He is only 30 years old! I was baffled that such a thing had entered his mind.
When you go somewhere rarely do you think “this may be the last time I am ever here.” The older you get, the more likely you are to consider such a possibility, but for the most part we humans have a tendency to expect things to always continue as they are, not realizing how precious that visit may be.
Think about places you remember with fondness, or maybe even with some sadness. When you were there did it occur to you that it was the last time you would be there? Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. When you start rolling that thought around in your head you realize how important it is to cherish every single moment of everything you do, because it may be the last time.
My grandparents house – my great-grandfather had built it when my grandmother was only six years old. I grew up going to that house for visits with my grandparents and other family members. After my grandfather passed, my grandmother continued to reside there until she was well into her 80’s. I eventually got married, had children and took them to visit their great-grandmother in that house. The last time I was inside the house the family was preparing for an estate sale following my grandmother’s death. I can’t remember the last time I visited my grandmother in her house because one day she became ill, went to the hospital and then into assisted living, where she remained until she passed at age 94. While the property was still in the family I would from time-to-time stop and walk around the outside of house and around the yard and barns, taking a few photos. I knew it was for sale and had been for some time, but even then it never occurred to me that I might be walking on that property for the last time. Eventually the house sold and my impromptu visits ended.
Cedar Point — a very popular amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio. I used to love attending amusement parks, and we always went to one as part of our family vacations when our kids lived at home. We sometimes attended them even without kids. Then I was in a bad accident and ended up with severe vertigo. I won’t go on amusement park rides ever again as I am fearful that the rapid movement of the rides might bring back the vertigo. My favorite rides were always the fast spinning ones like the spider, swings, Himalaya, and other similar rides. The last time I visited an amusement park or rode a ride it never occurred to me it would be the last time.
Scrapbook Memories in Chelsea, Michigan – This was a huge scrapbook store that held 3-day crops several times a year. My best friend, and I would meet there and attend the 3-day crops. It was a wonderful time and something we did year after year. Then one day we received notice that the owner had decided to leave the business and move out of state. No one purchased the store and it closed. Lots of memories of fun times in that store.
There are other places as well, my parent’s home where I was raised from the time I was in 1st grade until I got married and moved away. My in-laws home that holds lots of fun memories. The house my husband and I built in 1983 and then sold in 2004. I’m sure if I sat and thought there are many others. Will I ever go back to Disney World? Will I someday get back to Hawaii? When I was there years ago I assumed I would someday return, but in reality, will I ever?
Cherish the time you have at each place you visit, be it on a regular basis or only on occasion. You never know when circumstances will make it the last time.
What are the places you have been for the last time?
I was recently reading a book written a while back and it made a reference to calling the time-of-day line. That got me thinking, how many things that used to be a normal part of our everyday life are no longer done?
Calling the Time-of-Day Line (for those of you too young to know what this is, it was a special phone number you could call to get the exact time when setting clocks, etc.
Getting up to walk over and answer the phone, then having to stand next to it for the entire conversation because it was mounted on the wall and had a phone cord.
Kids going to their friend’s house, ringing the doorbell and asking if their friend could come out to play. No one called their friends on the phone to arrange a get-together until they were teens.
Riding bikes or roller skating without a helmet on.
Going to the Drive-In (there are a few still in existence, but they are not common)
Getting up to turn on the TV, then again to change the channel, and then again to adjust the rabbit ears or antenna.
Reading TV Guide to find out what was on TV that week.
Getting up on Saturday morning to watch cartoons, because that was the only time they were on TV.
Carrying a checkbook with you at all times to pay for any items you didn’t have enough cash for….debit cards did not exist.
Paying all your bills by sitting and writing checks, then sending the payment through the mail. Most young people don’t even order checks anymore, and a lot of them do not carry cash, they use a debit card for everything.
Do research by going to the library and reading an encyclopedia
Take your rolls of film to the store to be processed.
Open up a paper map to look at when planning a journey or to figure out where you are — although paper maps still do exist.
If not at home and you needed to telephone someone you had to look for a payphone and then have the proper change to put in the phone to use it.
Pull into a gas station and wait for the attendant to come out and inquire as to how much gas you wanted, and while the gas was pumping the attendant would clean your windshield and check your oil.
Have CB Radios in cars to communicate with each other — this was a bit of a craze in the late 70’s….my handle was the Gumball.
I’m sure there are more things that I haven’t thought of. What do you remember doing in your everyday life that is no longer done?
I had the pleasure of attending my 40th High School Class Reunion in Eaton Rapids, Michigan this weekend. The coordinators did a fabulous job of pulling the weekend together with a variety of activities to keep people on the move. This was especially nice for those of us traveling in from out of town, especially those traveling from out-of-state.
This is my bulleted list of memories of the weekend.
Meet-and-Greet at Eaton Rapids Medical Center Conference Room.
Friendly conversation with classmates.
Tammy (Ball) Albright’s face sign
Olive burgers and beer at Abies Bar
Woman’s bathroom is small with two toilets, no stalls.
Breakfast at Darb’s Patio, always yummy!
Glitch in planned tour of high school – Honor Society students are prepared to do tour, school is locked and they don’t have keys.
Classmate makes a couple calls and resolution is on the way.
Dave Johnson, teacher when we attended, later principal, now retired, has master key to school and comes to rescue, conducts the tour, and does an awesome job of sharing the way it was when we attended, and what changes have been done over the years.
Touring the high school after 40 years brings back memories, including these mentioned during tour:
The Cold Tongue
The smoking bathroom
After home game dances
1-2-3 Roll’em Ferndock
World History class lectures in auditorium
Theater performances in auditorium
Mr. Phillips math classes
Mrs. Lohrke, English teacher
Mrs. Shimnoski and Mrs. Tuthill, Business/Secretarial Block teachers
Various athletes, coaches
Teachers and counselors now gone but long remembered
Library no longer has a comfy seating area of bean bag chairs, chairs, etc.
Senior Bench (now gone)
The former layout of the school compared to what it is now
Non-Reunion Activity: Quick stop-over to visit with my sister for a couple hours
Walking a block to the Red Ribbon Hall for the reunion because I thought all parking in front was taken; there were still open spots.
Some classmates’ appearance has hardly changed, very recognizable.
Some classmates have changed a lot — thank goodness for name tags!
Being surprised at how many people recognized me immediately.
Good food, good desserts.
Good conversation with old friends and classmates.
1978 Graduate photo frame for shooting pics
Fun slide show of “then and now” pictures of classmates.
Party Favors: Eaton Rapids glass and notepad
The Red Ribbon Hall has very good acoustics = loud atmosphere.
A lot of us still drink, but not like we used to!
Many of us no longer “close down the bar” and left before the party was over.
Cell phones are great for event pics…I didn’t see a single “real” camera all weekend.
Facebook sharing of activities and photos on the ERHS Class of 1978 Page
Sad realization that we have lost 11 classmates, a nice memorial table was set up.
A quiz of things about our last year of school – presented by Mrs. Wheeler, former teacher.
Each classmate was to stand and give their name (maiden) now and where living…which grew as it went around the room to name, where living, married/years, occupation, children/grandchildren.
Amazing how many people have stayed in Eaton Rapids and/or the Greater Lansing area.
Surprised at how many have moved out of state, or resided in several states.
Time passes so quickly. How is it we have already been out of school forty years? Many thanks to classmates Julie and Jane Brenke, and their sister Jill, for organizing the reunion as well as several others who stepped in and assisted them.
I was in a fog and not sure what to write about, when I stumbled across something that was titled “20 Facts About Me.” Now most of you don’t know me, so this will serve as a quick introduction to who I am. If you do know me, you may find some surprises here. I’m just going to list random things as they come to mind. Here goes nothing:
I was born September 23rd, which means if you follow astrology I am a Libra and I fit the personality criteria.
I have lived most of my life in unique places:
a. Born in Traverse City, Michigan — the Cherry Capitol of the World
b. Lived in Iron Mountain, Michigan, which has one of the highest artificially
created ski jumps in the world.
d. From the time I was 6 until just before my 21st birthday I lived in Eaton
Rapids, Michigan — the only Eaton Rapids on Earth and also once famous for
its mineral springs.
e. I now live in St. Clair, Michigan, which has the longest fresh water boardwalk
in the world and is located on the St. Clair River, one of the busiest shipping
channels in the world.
When I was a child I wanted to be an actress/movie star, a veterinarian, and a writer.
I work full time as a paralegal, plus I am a photographer and a writer.
I have never learned my multiplication tables.
I hate personal confrontation but like to stir up controversy in my writing.
I write a genealogy column for The Lakeshore Guardian and am an occasional opinion columnist for the Port Huron Times Herald.
My favorite writer as a child was Nancy Drew, and as a teen I enjoyed reading Agatha Christie and Alfred Hitchcock.
I now read a variety of genres, but primarily non-fiction.
My favorite flavor of ice cream is vanilla.
I was married for 34 years and widowed at age 55.
I was once an avid collector of Precious Moments figurines.
I am a scrapbooker.
I am the mother of two (son and daughter) and have a total of six grandchildren, but unfortunately only have contact with three of them.
I am writing a book about our families involvement with CPS and my husband and my battle with them when attempting to adopt two of our grandchildren.
I love to travel and hope to do more once I reach retirement.
I have a tendancy to become emotionally attached to possessions.
For the past 37 years I have slept on, and still sleep on, a free-flow water bed.
My house is filled with items my deceased husband picked up when going through people’s trash looking for metal scrap.
I have a large collection of bookmarks, most of them obtained for free.
So those are my 20 items. Nothing too off the wall or bizarre. Just simple little things that reveal who I am. What I learned from this, is that coming up with 20 things to list about myself was more difficult than I anticipated. I’m sure once I post this more exciting, fun things will come to mind. That is just how life goes.
Imagine six years of life where your movements are controlled, where you have no privacy, where you can make phone calls out but no one can call you, your mail is read prior to you receiving it, where you can never go visit, but must wait for people to visit you. That is the life my son led from the time he was 24 years old until he was 30.
When he received notice in December that he had received parole he began counting down the days. March 20th seemed like it was in the distant future for him. For me it went fast. I was trying to get things done prior to his release, and of course I made the six hour drive to pick him up.
Patrick was released from Newberry Correctional Facility in Michigan’s upper peninsula at 8:00 am March 20, 2018. Although he is on a tether for the first six months of his two year parole, and he must abide by curfews that in the beginning are tight, it is considerably better than the spot he was at. So how did Patrick spend his first day of freedom?
Patrick — this single photo is on the OUTSIDE of the prison.
Our last prison photo
I picked him up at the correctional facility, we loaded his belongings into the car and than took our last two prison photos, a “selfie” of the two of us, and then one of him in front of the facility. Every time I (and my now deceased husband) visited we paid to have photos taken of us together and one of Patrick alone, so this was our last prison photo shoot.
Our first stop was a gas station/McDonald’s combination where he got a McGriddle sandwich — also one of my favorites. When he asked if he could have bacon added to the sandwich the girl responded “you can have whatever you want” and Patrick responded “those are words I’m not used to hearing.”
I had purchased him a cell phone, but phones have advanced considerably in the past six years. He was on the phone talking as we were crossing the Mackinac Bridge and I heard him say that the water looked really cool with the ice on it and “if I wasn’t on the phone talking to you I could take a picture.” He got instructions on how to stay on the phone and take a photo at the same time.
Two years ago my husband/Patrick’s father passed away, and I had obtained permission from the parole agent to make a few stops, Great Lakes National Cemetery in Holly being one, where Patrick saw his father’s grave-site for the first time.
Reading the tile on his father’s grave
We then headed to Fort Gratiot, he did not have to check in with the parole agent until the next morning, and we had permission to go shopping at Kohls to get him some clothes and then out to dinner. We ended up spending about three hours in Kohls.
Patrick tries on a hat at Kohs
Patrick helped me pick out short outfits for my grandchildren’s Easter baskets, then we shopped for clothing for him. He had changed sizes while incarcerated and had to try on a few things. A pair of tennis shoes, four pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, one shirt (couldn’t find many he liked), some boxers, and socks and we felt he had a nice start. I had already purchased him a nice pair of fleece pants, hoodie, polo, and a v-neck t-shirt prior to picking him up. During our shopping Patrick had to exit the building and stand in an open area of the parking lot so the satellite could take a picture of him/his location. He was told that happens frequently in large department stores or malls if in for a while.
Next stop was Red Lobster. Lobster Fest is going on, and we had the same meal — two different kinds of lobster and green beans with mushrooms, and of course salad and biscuits. The place was quiet, the service was good, the food was fantastic.
Dinner at Red Lobster
We were on our way home when my daughter called and said her boyfriend had the truck torn apart and needed to pick up a hose to complete it, could I swing by, pick him up and take him around the corner to the auto store. I went by her house, dropped off Patrick, picked up Rob and took him to the auto shop, then went back around and dropped off Rob and picked up Patrick and we came home and unloaded the car.
The evening was finished off with Caroline (my daughter) and her three kids coming over for a while, and then Patrick and I watched a bit of TV. It was a wonderful day for me, and I’m sure a great first day of freedom for him as well.
As we go through life we develop habits, a way of doing things. Some of them are our own, some of them are done to accommodate the likes/dislikes of those around us. As we cycle through life those things change.
We develop likes and dislikes, ways of doing things, and personality traits from our parents, grandparents, siblings, other relatives and friends as we are growing. Then we become adults and move away from those we have grown up with. Some move away to attend college, some branch out on their own, living the single life, and others, like me, leave their parent’s home when they marry. Each of those different events will impact the individual person and their overall personality.
I grew up in a small town far away from distant relatives, I left my parent’s home when I married just before my 21st birthday. With my marriage I moved about two hours away from home. The person I married was not controlling, but he was nine years older and had far more life experiences than I. He had served overseas in the military, been married and had a child, and purchased a home. Looking back I adapted to his way of doing things more-so than he adapted to mine. He paid the bills, serviced the cars, did home repairs, and was the driving force in any major purchases. I was more willing to keep things as they were, to more or less “make do” with what we already had. That is how we lived for 34 years until he passed away in December 2015.
When he passed away I was living on my own for the first time in my life. I spent a couple years in a bit of a vacuum, going through the motions of life without really experiencing it to its fullest. I learned to do things I had never done before, such as yard work, getting cars serviced, and paying bills. You could say in that way I grew during that period of time, but I didn’t really evolve, I simply functioned.
With the help of a friend I began to re-evaluate where I was at and what changes I needed to make. I took a good look at the investments I had, and the company my husband had us with was not making me any money, in fact after paying the service charges I had lost money over the course of the two years since his death. I’m not a math person, but I’m not stupid. I needed a new financial advisor and I followed the recommendation of a friend and made a change. It has been a good one and I feel my financial future has a more positive outlook.
In looking at my investments I also took a good look at my living expenses v. income and realized that while I am making my bills with the assistance of my husband’s life insurance, I can not really consider that “living in the green.” Let’s face it, the life insurance savings won’t last forever, and living month-to-month is not the way I want to spend my retirement. I also realized that I can not retire and continue to live where I am at. The decision, I need to downsize. Now there is a lot of stuff in this house that I must sort, decide what to keep, what to toss, and what to sell. That will take some time. I would like to be out in six months, a year is more realistic, and it may take beyond that. However the longer it takes the more money I am spending on this house that I could be saving or using for more fun things.
Fun things. I am going to do some fun things this year. For the first time in about three years I am going to take a real vacation. I have to admit, once I made the commitment, put down the deposit and booked my airline flights I had some difficulty sleeping for a couple nights, but now I am looking forward to it. My first international flight on my own, I will be flying to Calgary, Alberta, Canada for the Calgary Stampede and spending 11 days out there. I have a friend who will meet me in Calgary. We will be staying in his motor home and taking in some of the scenic sights of the area, doing photography in addition to attending the Stampede. It should be an awesome trip and I am looking forward to it.
I have a girl’s weekend planned in Mackinac City. The weekend is a yearly event with my sister and two cousins, and we always change locations to keep it interesting. There is also the possibility of another weekend trip into Canada with a friend, but that one is only tentative at this point.
So, where am I in the cycle of life? I am in a growing stage. I have broken free of the “me” that I was when married and becoming the “me” that I am as a widow. I have started to walk around my house doing a visual inventory. “That was him, it goes.” “That is me, it stays.” Sometimes it is “That was us” and with those items, some will stay and some will go. When I move out of this house it will be a good, clean break and I will be continuing the ride as I cycle through life.
We are having our first snowfall of the year…well not really. We had a few flurries in the air a couple times earlier this year, but nothing that stuck and it has been unseasonably warm until now. We are getting dumped on.
The First Fall of Snow
So with the snow falling and sticking to the roads and people nervous as they always are on the first bad roads of the season, we had to make a 40-mile round trip to pick up my daughter from work due to her car being in for service. What are my thoughts?
People constantly refer to how bad the roads are
Some people are very nervous and drive extremely slow
Some people are idiots and drive a maniac speeds
My car appears to automatically turn of Max Defrost when it is turned off, so auto-start doesn’t give you the max benefit when used.
Heated car seats are the best
If you forgo using the brush for mittens because the snow is fluffy, you will regret it later when your mittens are wet and fingers feel cold.
Freshly fallen snow on bushes and trees with Christmas lights on them is pretty.
There is something about snow that puts you in the Christmas mood
Yikes! Only 12 days until Christmas and I’m not decorated and have more shopping to do.
Who am I kidding, I wish I were somewhere on a beach, somewhere tropical, not in the midst of a snow storm.
So, I assembled my Christmas tree last night, and I should have put the lights on tonight but it still remains naked. I’ll tackle that project tomorrow night. For tonight, I’m going to crash.
If you are in the midst of a snowstorm, stay warm.
If you are somewhere tropical, I wish we could trade places.
It is always interesting when you read things that are supposed to be a part of your personality and discover they are accurate. Astrological signs, the zodiac, those predictions that say because you were born in this month on this date, this is your personality. I am a Libra. It is Me.
With today’s internet if you search out something on any sight it will suddenly start popping up in massive quantities. That was the case with traits of my sign, Libra. What surprised me was how many of those quotes accurately reflect my personality.
“Libras can take forever to make a decision.” Anyone who has known me for long will attest that this is true. Why? Because the Libra sign is the scales, we like things to be in balance so we must carefully weigh all the odds, then review them, then think about it, then ponder over whether or not we are making a good decision that will keep everything in balance. Now you may think everyone does that when making a major decision, and I agree with you on that. But with us Libras it can be a minor decision or a major decision. Each receives equal consideration, so don’t ask me to make a snap decision between plums or peaches, I need a minute to ponder the positives and negatives of each option.
“Libra knows and feels way more than they express, let things go way more than they should; feel deeply, love hard and aren’t shy about taking the hard road.” This is so true. Again, we don’t want to rock the scales so we may be thinking and acting one way, but feeling totally the opposite because we don’t want to cause a disruption. It is better, or easier, to go along with what someone else wants and keep everything peaceful and flowing than to object and cause a dispute. Keep in mind this can be the process with both negative and positive things. I may be feeling something positive, but what if others don’t agree with that, better to keep it to myself and not risk an upset.
There are several thoughts about the Libra personality that play into each other, and as you read through these you may see a flow.
“A Libra will act as if everything is okay even when things are falling apart.”
“Libras are good at ‘saving face’ meaning they can have more turmoil going on in their lives than you can imagine but guess what? They won’t let you see them sweat.”
“A Libra bounces back and recovers no matter how heavy the weight you place upon them.”
Those three quotes easily relate to each other, and anyone that has known me for very long knows that I fit that personality. I have lived for years with constant turmoil of some kind or another. The majority of people I encounter have no idea what has gone on ‘behind the scenes’ in my life. When in conversation I have mentioned a small portion of what I have encountered people sometimes wonder how I am able to function. What the heck am I supposed to do, give up on life? No, I do what the Libra personality says I do, I act as if everything is okay when inside I’m falling apart. I don’t let anyone see me sweat, I keep a smile on my face and purge forward. Because I am determined to maintain a positive attitude I always bounce back.
When a Libra is finally tired of the bullshit they won’t look back and you will be history.” We Libras may prefer to keep everything in balance, but be aware, we are not pushovers. We do not like things or people that are unfair, rude, or disrespectful. We will put up with a lot, we will forgive and forgive and forgive, but eventually enough it enough. When we have been pushed to our limit we will walk away and never look back. What happens if circumstances cause us to look back? We will always be wary.
Libras are also a good judge of character. “If a Libra appears to be shy or standoffish they’re likely observing your behavior before opening up.” I like people, but I don’t have a lot of close friends. We Libras are choosy about who we get close to. We enjoy being wild and crazy, wacky and weird, but we don’t want people who are going to tip those scales out of balance. There are a lot of people that simply don’t fit what we consider the ideal friend, and so they remain at a distance; close friends are few and we like it that way.
Leisure & Hobbies are important to us Libra. We have a wide range of interests and taking time to enjoy the fun things in life is important to our well being. While we are the scales and like things in balance, we also like to debate issues and I for one certainly go for the win. However winning or loosing is not the ultimate goal, because knowledge is gained through debate so a good discussion is always good for the brain. If you always associate with people who think just like you there is no challenge, no gain in knowledge, it is just an ongoing, never changing, boring existence.
Travel is always enjoyable. Exploring places you have never been or sometimes revisiting places you love and enjoy. For years Niagara Falls was my favorite city. That isn’t to say I don’t still enjoy it, it just isn’t the same as it was 35 years ago. I love visiting historic homes, walking in gardens, visiting areas that are cultural and stopping at scenic outlooks. No matter where you are there is always something you can enjoy, and with me, something I can photograph.
Over the years I have dabbled in various hobbies and crafts, with my most prevalent being photography. A hobby that goes with that is being a scrapbooker. I have also done counted cross-stitch, embroidery, latch hook, and miscellaneous other crafts, plus I love to write. I enjoy playing video/computer games. I do this to compartmentalize my brain. At work when I take a lunch break playing a computer game while I eat helps my brain to re-energize for the rest of the day. It gives it a break. Besides, games are fun!
“Music is often the center of a Libra’s existence.” I listen to music less now than I did when younger, and I think it may have to do with the environment in which I work or the fact that I now reside alone. I have learned to enjoy quiet. When driving alone music in the car is a must – I “dance” as I drive, singing, enjoying every minute of it. When cleaning or doing other manual labor around the house if I take the time to turn on the radio I am happier and tend to work faster. I also take breaks to dance to my favorite songs. Music just fits every mood, it is energizing and relaxing, whatever you want it to be.
This is just a slight glimpse into the many things that make up the Libra personality. The more I read the more I know. This is Me. I am a true Libra, whether overthinking and weighing the odds of an inconsequential decision far too long, juggling turmoil, sizing up someone before letting them into my inner circle, shooting pictures, playing computer games or dancing in my kitchen, I am a Libra. This is Me.
After reading that title you are probably going huh? If you think about it you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. Murphy’s Law — if anything can go wrong it will. Comedy — finding the humor in anything and everything. Drama — something serious and/or with conflict. Put those altogether and what do you have? My life this past week.
Picture Lucille Ball, Home Improvement, and Grace Under Fire all wrapped into one and you’re probably coming close. Of course it all didn’t seem comical at the time, there were some pretty good moments of stress, but overall you just have to roll with the punches.
Monday actually started the week off pretty good. I was busy at work, but afterwards spent a nice evening at home. Maybe that should have been an indication that all good things must come to an end.
Tuesday evening about 7 pm my phone rings. “What are you doing?”
“I’m in Rochester at a my Freelance Writer’s meeting, why?”
“Oh shoot, that won’t work. We were on our way to Ann Arbor and Rob’s car just died on us, we’re in Detroit, but you’re too far away. We’ll call his mom.”
My daughter, her three young children and her boyfriend, stranded more than an hour from where I was. I wasn’t really familiar with the area they broke down in, but let’s face it, stranded in Detroit is not a good thing. She is 32 and capable of handling things on her own, but as a mother and grandmother you worry. I received a text that Rob’s aunt, who lives in Detroit, went and picked them up right away because the area they were in was a bad section. Rob’s mother was on the way to pick them up from the aunt’s house and transport them back home. At least I knew they were safe.
Before they left the vehicle the first time Rob told Carrie to gather up absolutely everything out of the inside of the car, and she was smart enough to even empty the glove box so there was no revealing information about their residence or anything left. When the aunt took Rob back to the vehicle an hour later it had been trashed – windshield smashed, battery stolen, and inside destroyed. He popped the trunk and retrieved the diapers and other items they had just purchased and left the vehicle there overnight. Not worth repairing, the next day they borrowed a friend’s car hauler and towed it to the junk yard, where they got a whopping $168 for it. Now he is looking for something used, affordable and able to transport him and kids. In the meantime he is driving my single-cab pickup truck my husband used to use for scrapping.
Caroline came to my house and picked up my extra car, a Ford Fiesta, later that night to borrow because her SUV was in the shop. Wednesday afternoon I get a call, “Mom, your car has no oil in it!”
“What do you mean it has no oil? I just had it changed two weeks ago, drove it home from the dealership and it has been sitting in the drive ever since.”
“The oil lights came on and it made a funny sound, I pulled over and checked the oil, there is nothing in it.”
I called the dealership, they didn’t think it made sense but said not to drive it, they would send a tow truck. I called my daughter to let her know what was happening. Okay, moment of emotional breakdown here — my daughter’s SUV was at the dealership having repair work done on it for the third time, which was the reason she borrowed my car after her boyfriend’s car died, my Ford Fiesta she was borrowing is now being towed, my 2-year old granddaughter was at a day care approximately 25 miles from home, my daughter was going to be without any vehicle except for my pickup truck. It wasn’t looking good, two adults each with jobs in totally different areas, three young children and down to a single cab pickup they were borrowing from me.
Her voice cracked, “Mom, I have no car to drive.”
I took a deep breath to hold it together. “Where is Alex’s day care center? If needed I’ll leave work early and go pick her up. Am I on the list?”
Stress, Stress, Stress.
The good news — my daughter’s SUV was done and ready for pickup by the time she and the tow truck arrived at the dealership. The next morning I received a call that my car was fine, they forgot to hit the reset button when doing the oil change and the synthetic oil is clear so it can not be seen. My daughter had put a quart of oil into it, thinking it was empty, so it was now over filled. The dealership flushed it out and re-filled, no charge to me.
Thursday I get a call from my daughter’s boyfriend, “Was there a warranty on the brakes for the pickup when Ron had them done?”
“I don’t think Ron had the brakes done, and if he did I have no idea where he had them put on.”
As it turns out, the pickup, which is used mainly for gathering and hauling metal scrap, went quickly from the brakes seeming fine to showing they needed to be changed. How bad? Rob pulled into a shop to look into purchasing a set and before he could do that one fell off. It had rusted off! He purchased brakes, borrowed tools and changed that particular one right there in the parking lot. The other one he did later that evening at home. Good to go, maybe?
The next day Rob was driving the truck about 60 mph when the hood suddenly pops open, comes back and hits the windshield. The hood latch had rusted through and given out, so now a new hood and new windshield are needed. They are on a junkyard search for a hood. Windshield will get replaced. Did I mention I had just purchased new plates/tabs for that vehicle on Wednesday and this happened one day later? Ever feel like your life is moving as if you’re on a steep hill standing on sheer ice?
What the heck, might as well finish off my Thursday mowing the lawn, which is on a riding mower so old it is Montgomery Ward brand. No grass catcher, so it always leaves a nice trail of mowed grass and doesn’t get super close to the garden borders and fence so a lot of areas that always need to be trimmed, but not enough time to do that all in one night. Hence I finish off my Thursday with a mowed lawn containing rows of mowed grass heaps and a fringe of long grass along all the raised borders, fence, etc. plus other areas that the rider can’t go into that are still long because they must be done with either a push mower or weed wacker. Just call my lawn Hillbilly Haven.
So I’ve verbally dealt with brake endangerment and/or replacement, the mowing of a lawn, and decide to take a well deserved rest in the hot tub. I wear my new bathing suit, one of those tankinis. Normally I’m a one-piece wearer, but I figured the look of a one-piece, convenience of a two piece, what could go wrong? Little did I know. Removal of a bathing suit top in a dressing room v. when it is wet are two different things. When wet the back of the top feels like it is suctioned to my body and won’t let go. So here I am in my bathroom trying desperately to extract myself from a bathing suit top that seems to be attached to my body with glue and I’m trying to figure out how to raise the back for removal without destroying the thing. I can only imagine I must have looked like a really bad contortionist trying to remove myself from the grips of spandex. I was about ready to break a sweat when I finally got that thing to let go of me.
Friday, sweet Friday. Buried at work so I stay until 8 pm getting things done, run home and grab a quick dinner than head up to boat night — a huge event in Port Huron every year. It is the downtown party on the eve of the Port Huron to Mackinac sailboat race. Upon my arrival I decided to “go live” on Facebook for the first time ever. Shouldn’t that come with an instruction manual? Watching the video later it was pretty comical. I thought I was pausing the “live” part but apparently I wasn’t. We have the phone being moved erratically, complete darkness when I put it into my pocket for a short period of time. and a view of everyone’s feet walking around. Guess I should have looked around for an 8-year old to give me instruction before publishing that lovely documentary.
I arrive home from Boat Night about 11:00 pm. As I’m walking into the house I feel something hit my head. Hopefully not a spider — they tend to inhabit my front porch at night. I walk into the bathroom and there on my head is a lime green creature. It resembles a grasshopper with very long skinny legs and antennae. I grab a tissue and try to grab it, but miss. It must fly. I located it on the wall behind me. It doesn’t hop, it crawls. Rather bizarre creature. Guess I should have taken a picture, but at that particular moment I didn’t think of it. I grab it in the tissue, throw it in the toilet, and flush. End of bug….or not. The next morning I go into that bathroom and guess what — the green bug is dead but floating in the toilet. I use the facilities, flush and walk away. A few hours later I go in to again to use the facilities and everything flushed down the toilet, but the green bug is back and floating in the bowl. This happened at least three times. It was the dead bug that wouldn’t go…it was haunting me!
Saturday went well, probably because I stayed inside doing paperwork all day. Not too much tragedy when one is firmly planted in a chair — except when you sit too long and the tendon in your left arm tightens up and your foot falls asleep. I must say the advantage of living alone when you are hobbling along on a foot that is asleep while trying to straighten and shake out your left arm is that no one is there to witness or video the moment. I had the movements of a monster in a horror film.
Sunday, sweet relaxing Sunday, a day of rest and leisure. Who am I kidding, my Sunday was far from that. I spent several hours doing paperwork, then went outside to work on weed-wacking and raking the lawn. Well, the batteries for the weed wacker only run about 30 minutes each, and one for some reason died after about 15 minutes, so didn’t get a lot done. I still have a lot of fringe around the edges of my lawn.
It has been so hot I decided to see if some tree branches that fell in the spring and didn’t get cut up were dry enough I could break them into pieces to put in a lawn/leaf bag for collection. They were, so there I was He-Woman breaking those limbs down with my small, garden-gloved hands and shoving them into the lawn/leaf bag. Some of the larger ones required a bit more, so I would stand on one end and bend the other end up toward me attempting to break it off. Only lost my balance a couple times but with some wild karate chop maneuvers managed to regain my balance and stay on my feet. Poked myself in the stomach with the end of a branch once, and didn’t scream when I almost grabbed a spider off the ground. Maybe there is hope for me yet.
So I’ve wacked the weeds, bagged the branches, and now I’m ready to gather the grass. I like hot weather but it is no fun when trying to rake and sweat is running off your forehead and into your eyes, which makes your eyes sting. By the time I got to the backyard I wanted to get it all into one bag and be done with it. It was one very full paper lawn and leaf bag. No room to roll the top over. I pushed the grass down as much as I could, but it still was full right to the top. It wasn’t heavy to carry from the backyard to the end of the drive, but it was awkward because I had to be careful so I didn’t trip and spill it. Hopefully no one was watching as I did a waddle-walk with the bag gripped between my hands in front of me as I walked the length of the drive.
I decided to sweep off my front porch. Spiders come out at night, so I am constantly sweeping and/or spraying away the webs. I’m walking along, sweeping the porch and walked right into one of those fine spider webs you can’t see, all over my face. Ugghh! It feels like you have this sticky substance on your face and you just want it off. There I am, wiping my face with my hands frantically trying to get this web substance off me. Why in the world must spiders build there webs where people intend to walk? Can’t they stay away from houses and leave us humans alone? Apparently not.
Those aren’t all the things that went wrong during my week. I’ve only blessed you with the highlights. So how did I get through a Murphy’s Law Comedy Drama week without falling apart or killing someone? I look for the humor in each situation.
Picture a favorite comedy show character and/or show….I Love Lucy, Tim the Tool Man, Grace Under Fire, Sienfeld, or any other show. Picture the main character in one of the above situations. When reality is not reality but a comedy show it is funny. When you’re having one of those weeks and living the reality, look for the humor in each situation. Try to relax, go with the flow. It won’t be a Murphy’s Law Comedy Drama week every week. At least I hope not!
I was grocery shopping recently and had a craving for a childhood snack — graham crackers with frosting on them. I purchased the box of crackers and grabbed what I thought was standard chocolate frosting. Imagine my delight when I popped open that little container and discovered chocolate mint — double yum!
That got me to thinking about some of the simple things from my childhood that kids today don’t have the opportunity to experience. Back when I was a child life was more simple. Summer was spent playing outside. There weren’t any arranged play-dates set up by parents, we weren’t in day care centers, and our parents did not have us participating in scheduled activities.
We got up in the morning and walked or rode our bike to a friend’s house, rang the doorbell and asked if they could come out and play. When was the last time a child did that? Today’s children probably wouldn’t know how. We didn’t have video games, cell phones, ipads, or any of the other technology that kids today rely on. So what did we do with our time? We had fun!
A field behind the house could be trampled down into “rooms” in which we could roll out our baby carriages and play house. We would lay on our backs and look at the clouds, making determinations on what they looked like. We played Ring-Around-The-Rosie, Duck-Duck-Goose, Mother May I, Red Rover Red Rover, Tag, Kick-the-Can, and hide-and-go-seek.
We only had three TV channels, and cartoons were a Saturday morning specialty. Every kid sat in front of the TV watching their favorites. Between Saturdays we had our comic books to read. My girlfriend and I would put our comic books into the saddle baskets of our bikes, then read our comic books as we rode our bikes down the street no-handed….and we weren’t even wearing helmets!
We would sit on the porch playing jacks. At one time I was able to handle pick-ups of 20 jacks at a time. We played a lot. Do kids play jacks anymore? Are they even available to purchase? Ours were tiny metal jacks with a small red ball. What about hula hoops and pogo sticks? With a swing of the hips your hula hoop could be forced up to the neck or down to the knees and back to the waste. Regular jump rope, Chinese jump rope, and hop scotch kept us busy.
I lived in a small town. We would ride our bikes downtown and go to the library and the dime store. I did a lot of reading. Nancy Drew was my favorite, and so was Alfred Hitchcock and Agatha Christie as I got older. We bought pop in glass bottles out of a vending machine. Everyone chewed Bazooka bubble gum, and we all loved the little tiny comics that came inside. Gum wrappers were used to make chains…what we did with those chains I don’t remember.
We looked for 4-leaf clovers. Flower petals were pulled off one-by-one saying “he loves me, he loves me not.” Dandelions were held under the chin to see if your chin shone yellow, but I don’t remember why. If we found a dandelion gone to seed, a “wisher,” we were thrilled….but our father wasn’t if he saw us blowing those seeds out into the lawn.
Back then most people did not have air conditioning. Windows were open, fans were used. One strong childhood summer memory does not involve me but my father. He would mow the lawn and then afterward watch the ball game on TV. One of my favorite scents and sounds of summer is the combination of fresh mowed grass and a baseball ball game on the TV or radio.
What are some of your childhood memories? No matter how old or young you are, if you are an adult I am sure things have changed since your childhood. Do you have childhood cravings? Do you wish your children and/or grandchildren could experience life as it once was, not as it is now?
When I was starting this blog I struggled with a theme. Most people stick to one particular topic in their blogs, but I like to write about a variety of things because I am involved in a wide range of things in my daily life. That is when it hit me, my life is a melting pot of activities and that would be the topic and theme of my blog. LIFE IS A MELTING POT covers anything and everything. My activities as a photographer, our families involvement with CPS/DHS, travel, genealogy, family events, work, or any other topic that I feel is worthy of comment. I hope you enjoy the blog, comment often, and become a follower/subscriber.