With our insurance check in hand, we called the brick mason to let him know we were ready for a new mailbox. He promised to be out sometime this week, probably Wednesday....weather permitting. Naturally the weather had cooled off and snow was in the forecast, so we didn't know if he would show up or not.
A bit to our surprise, when it was time for me to go to Curves, the driveway was blocked by 2 trucks, 2 brick layers and some piles of bricks. Fortunately one of them drove off, leaving the other fellow behind to do the work...and me able to get out of the driveway.
I learned several things today about laying bricks:
1. If the mortar is a bit stiff, just pour in some of your drinking water. If you run out of drinking water to pour in, just add some of your coke.
2. If you put in a row of bricks standing on end, that is a 'soldier course' or 'soldier row'.
3. If you have any trash, papers, cardboard, broken bricks, etc. left dirtying up your truck, just stuff them down inside to the side of the mailbox before putting the cap on. It's much easier than taking stuff to the dump.
Fortunately they finished just before it started to snow harder. It was done in time for the mail lady to make her delivery today!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Hoosier Hysteria
For the most part, my family could care less about sports. Still, watching a bit of the NCAA tournament this past couple of weeks has brought to mind a story from many years ago. It is easier to watch a game if it is a team you know something about. USU and BYU went out early. That left only 2 teams I cared anything about, West Virginia and Butler.
When I was pretty young, Mom and Dad took Mark and me to a Butler basketball game in their fieldhouse there in Indiana. It is a famous fieldhouse in that it is where the final game in the movie 'Hoosiers' was filmed.
"Hoosier Hysteria" is their madness for basketball, of course. Everything pretty much slows to a crawl during the high school playoffs each year.
The year we went to the Butler fieldhouse to watch them play had nothing to do with Butler, but everything to do with the fact they were playing Utah State. Mom and Dad both enjoyed basketball and both were graduates of Utah State, so they decided it would be fun to go watch the game and support USU. Mark and I were along for the ride. The Butler fieldhouse was packed. One of the USU players was actually from Indiana, so on the other side of the arena, down near the USU bench, sat maybe 8 people from his family who were cheering for USU. Everyone else was rabidly cheering for Butler, including some folks near us who were flinging some verbal niceties, including some racial epithets as one of the USU players was black.
Mom and Dad were cheering whenever USU made a basket which caused some looks from the rest of the crowd around us. I was pretty much oblivious to the whole thing, but not Mark. He was mortified that Mom and Dad were cheering for the wrong team. He did not like to go against the crowd. His first move was to sort of slide under our seats so people couldn't see that he was with us. After a while that wasn't enough space, so he moved away from us to another seat! I don't know how old we were then. Maybe he was 8 or so? I really have no idea.
Anyhow...there is our Butler connection. Congratulations on making it to the final four games in your hometown.
When I was pretty young, Mom and Dad took Mark and me to a Butler basketball game in their fieldhouse there in Indiana. It is a famous fieldhouse in that it is where the final game in the movie 'Hoosiers' was filmed.
"Hoosier Hysteria" is their madness for basketball, of course. Everything pretty much slows to a crawl during the high school playoffs each year.
The year we went to the Butler fieldhouse to watch them play had nothing to do with Butler, but everything to do with the fact they were playing Utah State. Mom and Dad both enjoyed basketball and both were graduates of Utah State, so they decided it would be fun to go watch the game and support USU. Mark and I were along for the ride. The Butler fieldhouse was packed. One of the USU players was actually from Indiana, so on the other side of the arena, down near the USU bench, sat maybe 8 people from his family who were cheering for USU. Everyone else was rabidly cheering for Butler, including some folks near us who were flinging some verbal niceties, including some racial epithets as one of the USU players was black.
Mom and Dad were cheering whenever USU made a basket which caused some looks from the rest of the crowd around us. I was pretty much oblivious to the whole thing, but not Mark. He was mortified that Mom and Dad were cheering for the wrong team. He did not like to go against the crowd. His first move was to sort of slide under our seats so people couldn't see that he was with us. After a while that wasn't enough space, so he moved away from us to another seat! I don't know how old we were then. Maybe he was 8 or so? I really have no idea.
Anyhow...there is our Butler connection. Congratulations on making it to the final four games in your hometown.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Life was good in the 50s
It seems to me that being alive in the 50s was pretty good and carefree....but then what would I know of troubles. I was a kid.
Chronologically I don't know exactly what order these pictures belong in, but they are fairly close in time
When my parents first moved to Indianapolis, they rented a duplex. When I was around 4 years old, they bought their first home. To me, as a child, that meant a number of changes, one of which was adopting the world's laziest dog. I don't know who named her Candy. Some of her best tricks was getting her paws all muddy and then jumping on me when I was all cleaned up ready to go somewhere. I think this did not endear her to my mother. For some reason she preferred sleeping outside instead of in her doghouse, so she'd drag her blanket outside to sleep. When it started to rain, instead of going back inside her house, she'd cry out there in the rain on her soggy blanket. Not the brightest dog I think.
(Notice the dress styles for little girls then! Were they trying to save on fabric?)
When I was about 5 we went on a vacation. I was still an only child then though I often wished I had a brother. We got to go on a boat ride on Bear Lake.
During our vacation we visited an old friend from when we lived in Kansas. He became a professional photographer. This picture was taken near the entrance of Minnetonka Cave near our friend's cabin.
My first years of school were also about this time but were oddly divided. Because of my birth date, I started school in January instead of September. My first semester of kindergarten, the school I was supposed to attend was too crowded. They were building an addition onto the school, but in the meantime my kindergarten class was held in the basement of the Forest Manor Methodist Church. After summer vacation, the new addition was completed and I attended my 2nd semester of kindergarten in the Fall.
Kindergarten was not for academics! Certainly we had no homework. Parents were told they should NOT try to teach their children to read...or even let them learn on their own. Parents were not trained and apparently not thought to be smart enough to help their children with academic work. I don't recall learning letters or numbers at all that year. We played with the toys, sang little songs while our teacher played the piano, had milk and graham crackers for snack, and endured a ten minute 'rest time' on little rugs every day.
Back then, little girls always wore dresses to school. Pants were just not proper! Sometimes I wore dresses that my grandma made for me. This dress, however, was mostly for Sunday. It was plaid taffeta and rustled nicely when I walked.
I think my school looked rather dreary. The part to the left was the new addition that was made. The bathrooms and gymnasium for the school were in the basement. The upstairs was for the older kids, so I never did go there....or want to! It was scary to think of going up there! If the older kids needed a bathroom, they had to go all the way to the basement. Of course, no child in the school was allowed to go to the restroom unattended. We were expected to wait until the teacher took our whole class downstairs together once we reached 3rd grade. The K-2 classrooms each had a restroom in room, so in those grades we could go...as long as the stop/go sign on the door said 'go'.
It is funny how some things stick in the memory while more important things fade into oblivion. The bathroom incidents always seem to stick around. When we had school in that church, we were busy working one day when a boy named Barry went into the bathroom. Soon we heard a huge crash. The teacher went running to see what had happened. Apparently Barry was a curious boy who wondered how a toilet worked. His attempt to lift the lid of the water tank did not go well and it smashed all over the floor. Another time, when we had class at the school, the sign on the door said 'stop' so we knew someone was in the bathroom. Blood-curdling screams were coming from the bathroom. Again the teacher went running. This time it was a girl named Priscilla. She had worn a special dress to school that day. It had a fancy detachable collar. When she turned and flushed, the collar detached itself and whisked right down the toilet.
The cafeteria of the school was also in the basement, but I was never allowed to eat there because we lived too close to the school. We lived only 3 blocks away. Only the few children who had to ride the bus to school were allowed to eat in the cafeteria. The rest of us were dismissed to walk home for lunch and then walk back to school for the afternoon work.
Times have surely changed.
Chronologically I don't know exactly what order these pictures belong in, but they are fairly close in time
When my parents first moved to Indianapolis, they rented a duplex. When I was around 4 years old, they bought their first home. To me, as a child, that meant a number of changes, one of which was adopting the world's laziest dog. I don't know who named her Candy. Some of her best tricks was getting her paws all muddy and then jumping on me when I was all cleaned up ready to go somewhere. I think this did not endear her to my mother. For some reason she preferred sleeping outside instead of in her doghouse, so she'd drag her blanket outside to sleep. When it started to rain, instead of going back inside her house, she'd cry out there in the rain on her soggy blanket. Not the brightest dog I think.
(Notice the dress styles for little girls then! Were they trying to save on fabric?)
When I was about 5 we went on a vacation. I was still an only child then though I often wished I had a brother. We got to go on a boat ride on Bear Lake.
During our vacation we visited an old friend from when we lived in Kansas. He became a professional photographer. This picture was taken near the entrance of Minnetonka Cave near our friend's cabin.
My first years of school were also about this time but were oddly divided. Because of my birth date, I started school in January instead of September. My first semester of kindergarten, the school I was supposed to attend was too crowded. They were building an addition onto the school, but in the meantime my kindergarten class was held in the basement of the Forest Manor Methodist Church. After summer vacation, the new addition was completed and I attended my 2nd semester of kindergarten in the Fall.
Kindergarten was not for academics! Certainly we had no homework. Parents were told they should NOT try to teach their children to read...or even let them learn on their own. Parents were not trained and apparently not thought to be smart enough to help their children with academic work. I don't recall learning letters or numbers at all that year. We played with the toys, sang little songs while our teacher played the piano, had milk and graham crackers for snack, and endured a ten minute 'rest time' on little rugs every day.
Back then, little girls always wore dresses to school. Pants were just not proper! Sometimes I wore dresses that my grandma made for me. This dress, however, was mostly for Sunday. It was plaid taffeta and rustled nicely when I walked.
I think my school looked rather dreary. The part to the left was the new addition that was made. The bathrooms and gymnasium for the school were in the basement. The upstairs was for the older kids, so I never did go there....or want to! It was scary to think of going up there! If the older kids needed a bathroom, they had to go all the way to the basement. Of course, no child in the school was allowed to go to the restroom unattended. We were expected to wait until the teacher took our whole class downstairs together once we reached 3rd grade. The K-2 classrooms each had a restroom in room, so in those grades we could go...as long as the stop/go sign on the door said 'go'.
It is funny how some things stick in the memory while more important things fade into oblivion. The bathroom incidents always seem to stick around. When we had school in that church, we were busy working one day when a boy named Barry went into the bathroom. Soon we heard a huge crash. The teacher went running to see what had happened. Apparently Barry was a curious boy who wondered how a toilet worked. His attempt to lift the lid of the water tank did not go well and it smashed all over the floor. Another time, when we had class at the school, the sign on the door said 'stop' so we knew someone was in the bathroom. Blood-curdling screams were coming from the bathroom. Again the teacher went running. This time it was a girl named Priscilla. She had worn a special dress to school that day. It had a fancy detachable collar. When she turned and flushed, the collar detached itself and whisked right down the toilet.
The cafeteria of the school was also in the basement, but I was never allowed to eat there because we lived too close to the school. We lived only 3 blocks away. Only the few children who had to ride the bus to school were allowed to eat in the cafeteria. The rest of us were dismissed to walk home for lunch and then walk back to school for the afternoon work.
Times have surely changed.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
7 Years Ago
Seven years ago we were anxious to welcome a little grandson to the world....and he made us wait all day, too!
Happy Birthday to you, Robert!
Isn't he a handsome devil?
Happy Birthday to you, Robert!
Isn't he a handsome devil?
Rhubarb is up---It must be Spring!
Here is one of my favorite harbingers of Spring!
As a child in Indiana, most of our neighbors called it Pie Plant, but we always just called it rhubarb.
It seemed to love the cool Alaskan summers and grew into large, beautiful plants. Some brave souls in the family thought it was tasty freshly picked with no sugar to sweeten it. I was not one of those souls.
When my parents first came to visit us there they were astounded at the size of our rhubarb plants. Mom wanted to take one particularly lovely stalk home with her, uncut, to show the rest of the family. Once the leaf was cut off, the stem was 28 inches long. Doesn't take many stalks like that to make something out of.
As a child we mostly made stewed rhubarb, brought to a boil with a little water and some sugar. We ate it for breakfast like a bowl of fruit, although it is really a vegetable. Some of our friends made a thicker sauce from it and served it over ice cream.
In Alaska our rhubarb plants had a history. We brought the starts from the homestead where woodworker grew up. We brought the starts to our little house in Anchorage, and later from there to our permanent home in Wasilla. In Wasilla we planted our rhubarb starts, but they really didn't do very well. For several years we struggled to grow spindly little plants.
In the meanwhile, there was an area of our yard that used to be an old stump row from clearing the land. The topsoil was better there. That is where we put our garden. Next to the garden we had a little greenhouse and a small building which was divided into 2 sections for chickens and some pigs. The pigs and chickens each had their own little yard.
Eventually we quit raising pigs. That is when we suddenly realized the best spot to relocate our struggling little rhubarb plants. Once the plants were put into the old pigpen, they took off. They loved that fertile soil.
When we decided to leave Alaska, we took starts from our rhubarb with us to our new home. We didn't know how they would do in the dry, hot desert climate, but fortunately the cool nights here seem to be agreeable to the plants...along with being planted near a water source.
I don't know what variety our rhubarb is, but it is more red than some varieties and makes the prettiest pink rhubarb jelly.
I think our favorite uses though, turned out to be rhubarb custard pie and rhubarb cake.
Rhubarb Custard Pie
3 c. diced rhubarb
2 c. sugar
1 egg, well beaten
1 c. sour cream
1/2 t. salt
3 T. tapioca
Mix ingredients together and allow them to marinate while making the crust.
Pour mixture in unbaked pie crust and add top crust or lattice crust. Bake at 425ºF. for 15 minutes and then at 350ºF for 35 minutes.
Rhubarb Cake
1/2 c. shortening
1 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. white sugar
1 egg
2 c. flour
1/2 t. salt
1 t. baking soda
1 c. buttermilk or sour milk (1 c. milk + 1 T. lemon juice)
1 1/2 c. chopped raw rhubarb
1 t. vanilla
Topping
1/2 c. white sugar
1 t. cinnamon
1/2 c. chopped nuts
Cream together shortening, sugar and egg. Add remaining ingredients and then pour into an ungreased 9 X 13 pan. Sprinkle with topping and bake at 325ºF. for 50 minutes.
As a child in Indiana, most of our neighbors called it Pie Plant, but we always just called it rhubarb.
It seemed to love the cool Alaskan summers and grew into large, beautiful plants. Some brave souls in the family thought it was tasty freshly picked with no sugar to sweeten it. I was not one of those souls.
When my parents first came to visit us there they were astounded at the size of our rhubarb plants. Mom wanted to take one particularly lovely stalk home with her, uncut, to show the rest of the family. Once the leaf was cut off, the stem was 28 inches long. Doesn't take many stalks like that to make something out of.
As a child we mostly made stewed rhubarb, brought to a boil with a little water and some sugar. We ate it for breakfast like a bowl of fruit, although it is really a vegetable. Some of our friends made a thicker sauce from it and served it over ice cream.
In Alaska our rhubarb plants had a history. We brought the starts from the homestead where woodworker grew up. We brought the starts to our little house in Anchorage, and later from there to our permanent home in Wasilla. In Wasilla we planted our rhubarb starts, but they really didn't do very well. For several years we struggled to grow spindly little plants.
In the meanwhile, there was an area of our yard that used to be an old stump row from clearing the land. The topsoil was better there. That is where we put our garden. Next to the garden we had a little greenhouse and a small building which was divided into 2 sections for chickens and some pigs. The pigs and chickens each had their own little yard.
Eventually we quit raising pigs. That is when we suddenly realized the best spot to relocate our struggling little rhubarb plants. Once the plants were put into the old pigpen, they took off. They loved that fertile soil.
When we decided to leave Alaska, we took starts from our rhubarb with us to our new home. We didn't know how they would do in the dry, hot desert climate, but fortunately the cool nights here seem to be agreeable to the plants...along with being planted near a water source.
I don't know what variety our rhubarb is, but it is more red than some varieties and makes the prettiest pink rhubarb jelly.
I think our favorite uses though, turned out to be rhubarb custard pie and rhubarb cake.
Rhubarb Custard Pie
3 c. diced rhubarb
2 c. sugar
1 egg, well beaten
1 c. sour cream
1/2 t. salt
3 T. tapioca
Mix ingredients together and allow them to marinate while making the crust.
Pour mixture in unbaked pie crust and add top crust or lattice crust. Bake at 425ºF. for 15 minutes and then at 350ºF for 35 minutes.
Rhubarb Cake
1/2 c. shortening
1 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. white sugar
1 egg
2 c. flour
1/2 t. salt
1 t. baking soda
1 c. buttermilk or sour milk (1 c. milk + 1 T. lemon juice)
1 1/2 c. chopped raw rhubarb
1 t. vanilla
Topping
1/2 c. white sugar
1 t. cinnamon
1/2 c. chopped nuts
Cream together shortening, sugar and egg. Add remaining ingredients and then pour into an ungreased 9 X 13 pan. Sprinkle with topping and bake at 325ºF. for 50 minutes.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Alaska Mailbox?
After the recent mailbox disaster, we were told by the insurance company to 'simply' get an estimate and send it to them. Yeah...right! Masonry contractors do not have phones that connect to people....only voice mail. In addition, they do not return phone calls. After a futile week of trying to get someone, I called the folks who repaired Kathleen's house. While they were reluctant to get involved, as this is not their area of expertise, they did give me the names and numbers of 2 more contractors...one of whom returned my call while on his way to a job in Rock Springs, Wyoming. When I thanked him for calling me back and explained my frustration with the other contractors he mentioned that he is currently building a home and has the same problem with others in the building trades. According to him, they all complain about hard times, lack of work, etc. and none of them call back!
In the meantime, as we still wish to get mail delivery, we resorted to sort of stacking up the mailbox remains and wedging the actual box in with some bricks. With the addition of some duct tape, I think it would make a dandy Alaskan style mailbox! The mail lady has agreed to deliver to the box as it is unless it is raining until such time as it is repaired.
The insurance company has agreed to pay the estimated cost, so we'll be sending that estimate in to them today and hope someday to have a real mailbox again.
In the meantime, as we still wish to get mail delivery, we resorted to sort of stacking up the mailbox remains and wedging the actual box in with some bricks. With the addition of some duct tape, I think it would make a dandy Alaskan style mailbox! The mail lady has agreed to deliver to the box as it is unless it is raining until such time as it is repaired.
The insurance company has agreed to pay the estimated cost, so we'll be sending that estimate in to them today and hope someday to have a real mailbox again.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Boy Meets Girl
Today I found some slides which were given to us some years ago. Since I recently figured out how to scan slides, I can now see what is on them. So these pictures are a boy meets girl story.
A boy came home from the war and left home to attend school.
At school he met a girl....
And soon they became a couple...
They had a beautiful wedding, followed by an open house at a relative's home....
The teenaged daughter who lived in the house celebrated by TPing her own house!
Then they started their life together in their first apartment.
From my present perspective they look VERY young.....
A boy came home from the war and left home to attend school.
At school he met a girl....
And soon they became a couple...
They had a beautiful wedding, followed by an open house at a relative's home....
The teenaged daughter who lived in the house celebrated by TPing her own house!
Then they started their life together in their first apartment.
From my present perspective they look VERY young.....
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Oh What Do You Do In the Summertime?
When I think of my childhood amusements, I generally think of when we lived on Glen Mar Lane for five years from 2nd to 7th grade. During the winter, my days were busy with school, Primary (which was held on a weekday afternoon), Girl Scouts, chores, ice skating and church. In the summer there was a lot more time to play.
We didn’t have a TV until I was 6 years old. I don’t recall really watching it too much except for a bit on Saturday morning and Mickey Mouse Club on weekday afternoons. Really, TV also had only 4 channels, so there weren’t too many choices of things to watch anyway. Computers and video games didn’t exist. When our breakfast and morning chores were done, we were anxious to go outside to play.
There weren’t many kids on our road. Debby and Jimmy Rosa lived across the street. Debby was a little younger than I was, and Jimmy was a couple of years younger than Debby. Sometimes Julie and Danny McGrew came to spend a few weeks with their grandparents who lived next door to us. Julie was about my age and Danny was Mark’s age. We lived on a cul-de-sac that eventually had 7 or 8 houses on it. Before the houses at the end of the cul-de-sac were built, we used to pick wild strawberries down there.
Although we lived in the city of Indianapolis, we were lucky to live where we could have a large yard to play in. The back yard was fenced with a chain link fence about 3-4 feet tall. In the back of the lot was our garden and some fruit trees. Near the gate leading to the front yard was a rose garden. The rest of the yard was ours to play in. Sometimes Mom gave us an old blanket and some clothes pins so we could pin the blanket to the fence to make a leanto shelter or tent to play house in. Since the yard had a number of trees in it, we had no trouble furnishing it with dishes made of leaves. Some of my favorite trees were the sycamore, redbud and wild cherry
in the front yard.
The wild cherry tree next to the driveway in the front yard was our favorite climbing tree...especially in the early summer. It was a decorate tree, so the cherries on it never grew any bigger than a pea and were not edible. The grew in little clumps, rather like a bunch of small grapes, so it was pretty easy to climb the tree and strip off all the little green cherries we could reach. Those little cherries made great ammunition to throw at each other. As the cherries got ripe they fell off the tree onto the driveway where they made a lovely purple stain when we squashed them.
Debby Rosa was the kind of girl who longed for a horse. She spent all her waking hours dreaming about horses, so it was little wonder that we played ‘horses’ whenever she came over. An old jump rope made great reins as we galloped all over the yard..
We liked to play Freeze Tag and Statue. Towards evening the crickets would begin to chirp along with the katydids. Then, just at dark, the fireflies came out. We’d grab our jars and race around the yard collecting them.
Sometimes in the yard we found holes an inch or two in diametter. They were really deep holes. When we dropped rocks down those holes, we could hear them splash into the water deep underground. Mom and Dad said they were crawdad holes. I didn’t know what a crawdad looked like. After we lived there for a while, Dad decided to get the driveway paved. It was exciting to watch the men and equipment to their work. we looked forward to having a paved area to play on as the road in front of our house was gravel and there were no sidewalks. We had to park on the road for a day or so until the asphalt hardened. On Sunday, when we returned from church, we saw a strange sight on our driveway. A strange critter that looked like pictures I’d seen of a lobster or crab was scurrying back and forth like it was lost. Dad said it was a crawdad! We thought perhaps its hole had been covered up when the driveway was paved.
One summer a new fad came to town...the hula hoop. Everyone had one or two of them, including us. We had contests with each other to see who could keep the hoops twirling longest on waists, knees, necks, ankles and wrists. The biggest hoop also worked for jumping like a jump rope. We practiced throwing the hoops down the driveway with a backspin so they would roll back to us.
One day Dad came home from work with some wooden spools that some sort of wire had come on. Now the spools were empty. The outside circles of the spools were maybe 2 feet in diameter. The inside was probably a foot in diameter. He thought we might find some way to use them. Before long we mastered the art of tipping them on their sides so they would roll and then balanced on the inside portion, walking rather like a lumberjack rolling a log as we rolled down the driveway. We thought we were pretty talented. Somewhere along the line we also acquired a pair of stilts which we learned to walk on. Sometimes we propped narrow boards across the driveway about a foot off the ground and pretended it was a tightrope. I think we used these things to play ‘circus’ quite a bit that summer.
In the backyard we had a swing, slide and sort of whirligig thing with 2 seats. It had a handle to hold on to with hands which extended down to a foot rest. The handle could be pumped back and forth to make the whole thing spin madly around.
It seems like we were never at a loss for something to do all summer long. What do YOU remember doing in the summer?
We didn’t have a TV until I was 6 years old. I don’t recall really watching it too much except for a bit on Saturday morning and Mickey Mouse Club on weekday afternoons. Really, TV also had only 4 channels, so there weren’t too many choices of things to watch anyway. Computers and video games didn’t exist. When our breakfast and morning chores were done, we were anxious to go outside to play.
There weren’t many kids on our road. Debby and Jimmy Rosa lived across the street. Debby was a little younger than I was, and Jimmy was a couple of years younger than Debby. Sometimes Julie and Danny McGrew came to spend a few weeks with their grandparents who lived next door to us. Julie was about my age and Danny was Mark’s age. We lived on a cul-de-sac that eventually had 7 or 8 houses on it. Before the houses at the end of the cul-de-sac were built, we used to pick wild strawberries down there.
Although we lived in the city of Indianapolis, we were lucky to live where we could have a large yard to play in. The back yard was fenced with a chain link fence about 3-4 feet tall. In the back of the lot was our garden and some fruit trees. Near the gate leading to the front yard was a rose garden. The rest of the yard was ours to play in. Sometimes Mom gave us an old blanket and some clothes pins so we could pin the blanket to the fence to make a leanto shelter or tent to play house in. Since the yard had a number of trees in it, we had no trouble furnishing it with dishes made of leaves. Some of my favorite trees were the sycamore, redbud and wild cherry
in the front yard.
The wild cherry tree next to the driveway in the front yard was our favorite climbing tree...especially in the early summer. It was a decorate tree, so the cherries on it never grew any bigger than a pea and were not edible. The grew in little clumps, rather like a bunch of small grapes, so it was pretty easy to climb the tree and strip off all the little green cherries we could reach. Those little cherries made great ammunition to throw at each other. As the cherries got ripe they fell off the tree onto the driveway where they made a lovely purple stain when we squashed them.
Debby Rosa was the kind of girl who longed for a horse. She spent all her waking hours dreaming about horses, so it was little wonder that we played ‘horses’ whenever she came over. An old jump rope made great reins as we galloped all over the yard..
We liked to play Freeze Tag and Statue. Towards evening the crickets would begin to chirp along with the katydids. Then, just at dark, the fireflies came out. We’d grab our jars and race around the yard collecting them.
Sometimes in the yard we found holes an inch or two in diametter. They were really deep holes. When we dropped rocks down those holes, we could hear them splash into the water deep underground. Mom and Dad said they were crawdad holes. I didn’t know what a crawdad looked like. After we lived there for a while, Dad decided to get the driveway paved. It was exciting to watch the men and equipment to their work. we looked forward to having a paved area to play on as the road in front of our house was gravel and there were no sidewalks. We had to park on the road for a day or so until the asphalt hardened. On Sunday, when we returned from church, we saw a strange sight on our driveway. A strange critter that looked like pictures I’d seen of a lobster or crab was scurrying back and forth like it was lost. Dad said it was a crawdad! We thought perhaps its hole had been covered up when the driveway was paved.
One summer a new fad came to town...the hula hoop. Everyone had one or two of them, including us. We had contests with each other to see who could keep the hoops twirling longest on waists, knees, necks, ankles and wrists. The biggest hoop also worked for jumping like a jump rope. We practiced throwing the hoops down the driveway with a backspin so they would roll back to us.
One day Dad came home from work with some wooden spools that some sort of wire had come on. Now the spools were empty. The outside circles of the spools were maybe 2 feet in diameter. The inside was probably a foot in diameter. He thought we might find some way to use them. Before long we mastered the art of tipping them on their sides so they would roll and then balanced on the inside portion, walking rather like a lumberjack rolling a log as we rolled down the driveway. We thought we were pretty talented. Somewhere along the line we also acquired a pair of stilts which we learned to walk on. Sometimes we propped narrow boards across the driveway about a foot off the ground and pretended it was a tightrope. I think we used these things to play ‘circus’ quite a bit that summer.
In the backyard we had a swing, slide and sort of whirligig thing with 2 seats. It had a handle to hold on to with hands which extended down to a foot rest. The handle could be pumped back and forth to make the whole thing spin madly around.
It seems like we were never at a loss for something to do all summer long. What do YOU remember doing in the summer?
The Cursed House!
The house across the road from us was empty when we moved here...taken back from the bank. It was eventually purchased as a rental property. Since then, several families have lived there. At one point, a family with 10 unruly children lived there. They were nice enough folks, but we felt they didn't do a stellar job of watching their kids. We'd see the 2 year old dancing on top of their RV, or various kids riding toys in the street and darting out from behind the RV almost into the path of the gravel trucks that were working on the site of the church that was being built nearby at the time. Fortunately none of them were ever hit. At one point, the oldest one managed to put a good sized rock through the back window of our truck. Sadly, that canopy type was no longer being made, so in an effort to save the neighbors some money, we ended up with rather a makeshift window replacement on the truck. Then they moved out and another family moved in.
We had just finished dinner today and settled down for the afternoon when we heard a couple of loud thumps. Upon looking out the door, this is what we saw!
That little car belongs in the garage across the street.....and that pile of rubble is our mailbox. The car was parked in their steep driveway and while unattended, decided to take a drive down the driveway and into our mailbox!
I guess fixing the mailbox just got added to our to-do list.
We had just finished dinner today and settled down for the afternoon when we heard a couple of loud thumps. Upon looking out the door, this is what we saw!
That little car belongs in the garage across the street.....and that pile of rubble is our mailbox. The car was parked in their steep driveway and while unattended, decided to take a drive down the driveway and into our mailbox!
I guess fixing the mailbox just got added to our to-do list.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Alaska Christmas
Why am I blogging about Christmas in March? It's because in my sorting and housecleaning, I came across a scrap of paper I'd saved all these years. After including the information here, I will be able to toss that scrap of paper!
It seems like Alaska loves adapting other things to unique Alaskan circumstances. So it was with the traditional Christmas song about The Twelve Days of Christmas. The 2nd graders of Snowshoe Elementary presented their special version of "The 12 Days of Christmas - Alaskan Style" with signs created to illustrate each of the 12 days. I believe I recognize that little girl with the caribou sign.
If you want to try the song Alaskan style, here are the words to substitute into the song:
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
A Ptarmigan in a spruce tree.
2nd Day: 2 Caribou
3rd Day: 3 Spruce Hens
4th Day: 4 Beluga Whales
5th Day: 5 Baby Moose
6th Day: 6 Huskies running
7th Day: 7 Bears a fishing
8th Day: 8 Seals a barking
9th Day: 9 Walrus sunning
10th Day: 10 Sourdoughs panning
11th Day: 11 Reindeer prancing
12th Day: 12 Salmon jumping
It seems like Alaska loves adapting other things to unique Alaskan circumstances. So it was with the traditional Christmas song about The Twelve Days of Christmas. The 2nd graders of Snowshoe Elementary presented their special version of "The 12 Days of Christmas - Alaskan Style" with signs created to illustrate each of the 12 days. I believe I recognize that little girl with the caribou sign.
If you want to try the song Alaskan style, here are the words to substitute into the song:
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
A Ptarmigan in a spruce tree.
2nd Day: 2 Caribou
3rd Day: 3 Spruce Hens
4th Day: 4 Beluga Whales
5th Day: 5 Baby Moose
6th Day: 6 Huskies running
7th Day: 7 Bears a fishing
8th Day: 8 Seals a barking
9th Day: 9 Walrus sunning
10th Day: 10 Sourdoughs panning
11th Day: 11 Reindeer prancing
12th Day: 12 Salmon jumping
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Scrubbies
Many years ago, Mom saw her first scrubby and loved it so much that she decided that she wanted to make some for herself, so she set out to figure it out, which she did. Now, hundreds of scrubbies later, everyone in the family has begun to find them indispensable. They are great for washing dishes, scrubbing sinks, cleaning bathtubs, scrubbing vegetables such as potatoes and carrots, safely cleaning non-stick cookware and probably many other uses. Mom crochets them while she watches TV, while she waits at the hospital, and any other convenient time. They are often used to thank friends, nurses and other health care folks of many kinds.
A few years ago, we spent time as missionaries in West Virginia. People there were so kind to us, often sharing meals with us. Mom appreciated all that was done to assist us, so sent us a whole pile of scrubbies she had made, with instructions to pass them out to some of the folks who had been so good to us.
Now, over a year later, a request has come by someone wanting to create more scrubbies and wondering where on earth Mom got that scratchy yarn she used to make them.....
So, it occurred to me that the art of making scrubbies should be shared.
First, purchase 10 1/2 yards of nylon netting. Usually the netting is 72 inches wide. Cut the netting into strips 3 1/8 inches wide x 10 1/2 yards long. This is the 'yarn' to be used in crocheting the scrubby.
Then:
crochet 5 and make into a ring and then 10 double crochet. then 20 for the next row then 40 for the final row.
It is really important to crochet very tightly as the scrubbies last longer and do a better job if they are not too loose. If you run out of 'yarn' before it is finished, just tie on another strip and keep crocheting until it is complete.
When my scrubbies get dirty, I generally just put them through the dishwasher. Now that we all know how to make them, we never again need to fear being without them!
A few years ago, we spent time as missionaries in West Virginia. People there were so kind to us, often sharing meals with us. Mom appreciated all that was done to assist us, so sent us a whole pile of scrubbies she had made, with instructions to pass them out to some of the folks who had been so good to us.
Now, over a year later, a request has come by someone wanting to create more scrubbies and wondering where on earth Mom got that scratchy yarn she used to make them.....
So, it occurred to me that the art of making scrubbies should be shared.
First, purchase 10 1/2 yards of nylon netting. Usually the netting is 72 inches wide. Cut the netting into strips 3 1/8 inches wide x 10 1/2 yards long. This is the 'yarn' to be used in crocheting the scrubby.
Then:
crochet 5 and make into a ring and then 10 double crochet. then 20 for the next row then 40 for the final row.
It is really important to crochet very tightly as the scrubbies last longer and do a better job if they are not too loose. If you run out of 'yarn' before it is finished, just tie on another strip and keep crocheting until it is complete.
When my scrubbies get dirty, I generally just put them through the dishwasher. Now that we all know how to make them, we never again need to fear being without them!