Hot August Night.....

oh its been hot. I find myself humming the opening phrases of Neil Diamond's song, Brother Love's Travelin' Salvation Show when it gets hot like this. This is like the summers of my youth, the air so hot and sticky, barely a hint of a breeze....the locusts singing their whining songs from the trees, starting off softly and ending in a crescendo. It always meant HOT weather was coming when you heard the locusts. We didn't have air conditioning back then and now that I've been spoiled by it, I wonder how we existed. I remember laying in bed at night and would keep turning the pillow over so it would feel cool against my face.

The days of sliced garden tomatoes, fried chicken and potato salad. That tall glass of iced tea where the outside of the glass is all wet with condensation. That unmistakable fragrance of freshly husked corn and picking green peppers from the garden, rinsing them off with the garden hose and then just taking a big bite. Ah, yes, this summer has reminded me of the summers of my youth.....lazy, hazy days.

Do they still have revival meetings in tents on hot summer nights? After marriage we rented an apartment that was located in the last building on the dead end street. It faced the woods and on hot summer evenings we could hear the services coming from a tent that had been put up on the other side of the woods. We would sit outside and listen to the songs and could hear some of the sermon, especially when a point was being made......amid all the hallelujahs and amens and then gospel music, sweet and bluesy.

That neighborhood went into disrepair a few years after we moved from there. And it has since gone through a lot of changes. It was pretty bad for a while and then a facelift was given to the area and things were cleaned up. But, unfortunately, its much like an old and haggard woman putting on layers of makeup....its all cosmetic...quickly and cheaply done. But it is better than it was and that's the important thing. Lord, that was 45 years ago we sat and listened to "the travelin' Salvation show" on the other side of the woods. I wonder if they still have them.

I have my granddaughter's school clothes all ordered and they will be delivered next week. That, of course, signals the end of summer when Back to School rolls around. I can't believe how fast the time went. I found some killer deals doing Internet shopping once again.....and suffered none of the hassle that the mall would have given us.....and got free shipping to boot. Ah, Life is Good.

I just noticed a weather alert has come up on my browser. Air Quality Alert. Never had any of those back in the "dog days" of the summers of my youth. Speaking of air.....I can't wait to see my next electric bill...........Ouch.

The Old Hand Pump.....

Ever used one of these? They are a rarity anymore. I recently saw a picture much like this one and it triggered some warm and wonderful memories for me.

I've mentioned before that I was raised on a small farm. We had more chickens than anything else and the chicken coop was quite impressive....as chicken coops go. Ours were not free range chickens but the fenced yard that kept them out of our garden as well as everything else was very large. Inside the coop was a hand pump just like this one pictured. My dad and I both shared the love of the crystal clear ice cold water that this pump would bring to the surface. In the summer, several times a day you would find us in the chicken coop getting a nice long drink from the long handled drinking cup that hung nearby. Some days I almost ache with yearning to just have a sip of that water again. I have tasted nothing that can come remotely close to that particular strain of "nature's wine".

My family is all buried in a very small cemetery that is only about 2 miles from where I now live and 2 miles from the farm on which I grew up. Under a tree, positioned in the approximate middle of the cemetery was a hand pump so you could water the flowers you planted on the graves of your loved ones. I was disappointed many years ago when I saw that the pump had been replaced by a modern spigot. At the risk of appearing to be a person without perception....I really don't like all the changes that have happened in my little corner of the world. I used to know everyone because my dad knew everyone. Not so anymore. The farm that was home to me was sold many years ago, torn down, sub-divided and a huge apartment complex built on the land. The only things remaining are the two huge mulberry trees that used to be in our front yard. I'm glad they were spared.

I think I may be entering another phase of my life....some things that interested me before no longer have the appeal they once had. I don't watch much TV anymore, finding more programs to be witless and dull than ones that entice you to tune in. The "reality TV" has definitely lost its appeal for me....they have over-done it. We need more comedies I think. Comedies that us older folks can identify with....instead of everything being geared toward teenagers. Something to help us relax in the evening and have a good laugh. We'll see what this Fall holds for us.

My computer is sick and is at my guru's place being looked at. He thinks its a 'bug'....I don't. I think some files got corrupted ONCE AGAIN after some power outages we had recently. I'm using my old stand-by that's showing its age....but hanging in there. Kinda like me. LOL

My attitude is not a lot better than it was on July 3, my last post. I really can't say its any one thing.....it seems to be MANY things. It was as if my writing ability just packed its bags and moved away. I hope its only temporary and I will soon feel creative again. The summer has been hot and I'm not complaining. I keep thinking of all the snow and the cold from last winter and the heat of the summer is more than welcome in my book. If it makes those of you who are in the snow belt feel any better, I've read that we are supposed to have a mild winter. I hope so.

My friends, if you have stuck with me and checked here often for a new post.....I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You've been patient and for that I wish I could reward you with a witty, laugh til you pee post.....but I can't think of anything like that just yet. Hopefully....it won't be long and I can at least post something that's interesting. I hope everything has been well in your little corners of the world and I'll be back in just a few days. As always.....keep smilin'.

Free samples.....

were once given out in abundance. I can remember receiving samples of nearly everything on the market....excluding, of course, alcohol, sexual items or aides. If you didn't have a baby but knew someone who did, you saved all your samples of baby items for them. I even got a baby t-shirt as a sample once.

I've received toothpaste, pantyhose, makeup, medicine...(gasp....yes, medicine)....well, aspirin, arthritis creme and cough syrup type stuff, but it's still considered medicine.....dog biscuits, deodorant, hand lotion....oh the list just goes on. And back before they passed a law against it, even cigarettes were given as free samples. A little box with 5 of them would be sitting in your mailbox just waiting for you to light up and pass judgment. It made it a joy to go to your mailbox....for hidden amongst the bills, you may just find a free sample or two. Like Christmas.....you never knew what you'd get......several times a month. I especially loved the little bottles of shampoo, dishwashing detergent or bars of soap. How about those little boxes of laundry detergent? And thinking along those lines....does anyone remember the so-called free towels and glassware in the boxes of laundry soap. I am saying "so-called" because I'm certain that we all paid a little extra for that soap. What WAS the name of that darned soap....Breeze? I can't remember. So much for creating a lasting impression on us consumers.

Free little toys in breakfast cereal....that were actually THERE....in the box. You didn't have to send away for them. I can remember dumping whole boxes of cereal in a bowl to find the toy so the kids could have it immediately (because they'd seen the pictures on the box and they KNEW) and then putting the cereal all back in the box again. Back then, they didn't care so much about getting your name and address and what type of products you prefer.....they just considered it a good marketing ploy. And it was.

Remember the gift stamps? Gold Bell, Holden's Red Stamps and S&H stamps (aka green stamps). I loved those stamps and obtained quite a few household items....absolutely free (except of course, you had to pay sales tax)....in exchange for my books of stamps. Only thing invested was time.....and spit. If you were smart, you used a sponge and some water to put them in the books. First starting out as a married couple, we utilized as many free offers as possible. In addition to his regular job, my husband worked part-time at a gas station.....back when an attendant pumped your gas, washed your windows, checked your air, water and oil. This one night a semi truck driver pulled in and filled up with diesel. He DID NOT want his stamps and gave them to my husband. When he came home with all those stamps.....there were HUNDREDS of them....I felt like we'd hit the lottery.

I can remember never having to buy a light bulb. You saved up your burned out ones and took them back to the power company and they gave you a new one for each burned-out one you turned in. They also would replace the heating elements on your electric stove burners and oven for free. Not even a charge for a service call.

Little by little the freebies stopped. Every great once in a while I will receive a free sample of something in the mail, but its probably not more than once or twice a year. There are places online that you can sign up for free samples, but your name and information is probably sold to thousands of advertisers in exchange for your freebie. For me, its just not worth all the junk mail or email I would receive. Sometimes you'll find a sample packet of shampoo or lotion tucked into a magazine.....but I don't consider that free because you had to buy the magazine to get it. Everyone likes to get something for free......REALLY free, no strings attached. I miss it.

Well, its supper-time so I'm going to pull off of memory lane and get into the house and see what I can get on the table. Hope all of you have a great up-coming week and most of all, enjoy this nice Sunday evening.
Keep smilin'.

Sisters in looks.....

I've always loved this photograph. This is a picture of my mother, on the right, and her mother. My mom was 47 here, making her mother 63. I'm going to play around with this picture and see if I can add my own image to this at the age I am now, making me the oldest of the group. That should make quite a conversation piece, to say the least.

Since there wasn't much of an age difference between them, people used to think they were sisters and sometimes, when their horns were out, they would just let them think so.

This is the grandmother I talked about in the previous post. Most of her eight husbands had money so she was very fashionable.....and even when times were tough, you'd never know it by how she looked. My mom, on the other hand, lived on the farm with my father and did all those things that farm wives do, which is hard work, and plenty of it. However, she never failed to put on a bit of makeup to start the day, no matter what she was going to be doing......anything from laundry to canning.

Thinking of the distant past.....

This is a picture of my mother at the age of 16. Around 1926 I figure. She had a really rough, sad childhood. I found this picture in a box of old photos that I’ve been meaning to scan. It nearly crumbled in my hand so I scanned it right away. Then I got to thinking and my mind traveled back in time, back to the stories I’d heard about my family. This starts with my mother's grandparents....whom she had never met. She did, however have fond memories of her great-grandparents (James's parents) and spent many summers on their farm.I don't know much any further back than that.

My mother’s maternal grandparents, as well as her great grandparents (James's parents) are about the only ones talked about; the rest is sort of a mystery. I know nothing of Liz's family. I’ll tell you about mom's grandparents and for the sake of this post, I’ll call them Liz and James. They married and its noted that James’s parents were fairly well off for the times (sometime around 1870 or so) since they did own quite a bit of property. I don't know how many children they had other than James. They were German people....hard-working and honest. James and Liz made a life together and had five children, my grandmother being the oldest.(girl #1) When the twin babies were only about 3, James was killed in an accident, which left Liz so shocked that she was never the same mentally. James’s family tried to help her as much as possible but she was stubborn, very proud and had a fiery temper to boot. She yanked my grandmother out of school at the age of about 11 to help her raise the kids and earn money for them to get by. She took in laundry for other people and my grandmother used to tell me stories of delivering the clean laundry by pulling a big wagon down the street. James’s parents were not impressed by their daughter-in-law's living conditions and they repeatedly asked her to at least let them take the children but she flatly refused. I guess things looked pretty bleak and they didn’t have much at all.

One day while Liz was away getting supplies, and she had the twins with her, James’s parents came to the house and packed up the three kids and took them home. The left a note for Liz and told her that they would see to it that the children had everything they needed. They extended the invitation to her as well as the twins, they could see she desperately needed help. Well Liz flew into a rage and, as the story goes, she packed up what she could, grabbed up the twins and left town for parts unknown. The children mourned the loss of their siblings but could do nothing about it and apparently James’s parents could not locate her, although they did hear things about her from time to time.

What had happened as close as anyone knows is that she took off with the twins but could not make it, having to take care of them. She eventually got mixed up with a man and he talked her into giving them up for adoption, which she did do. Fortunately both of them were adopted, but unfortunately not to the same family or close proximity. I think my uncle was about 6 when he was adopted and his twin, my aunt was about 9. James’s family did not find out about the adoption until the children were grown. My oldest uncle (boy#1) looked for years until he found his brother (one of the twins) and reunited him with the rest of his siblings. They were adults at the time. A happy note connected with this is that my uncle (boy #2) made it a quest to find his twin sister and he did find her when they were in their late twenties.

My grandmother really never had a childhood; she was made responsible for her siblings and then had to work early to help with expenses. I have often wondered if that was the reason why she had such a hard time being a mother herself. Don’t get me wrong….. she was a very talented woman; smart, excellent cook and seamstress, impeccable housekeeper and had good business sense, even though she had been denied a decent education. Let’s just say that it’s like that old poem about the little girl with the curl: “when she was good, she was very very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid”. That was my grandmother. She was not a good mother.

She had my mom at 16, divorced her husband a year later because he was ‘boring’. My mom cramped her style so she pawned her off on her sister who lived in Texas at the time. My mom lived there with her for a while. My grandmother went through husbands at a record rate….she was widowed only once out of eight husbands. Her temper and her fondness for alcohol did not make her a reliable wife. Yet, she was skilled in so many things and would give you the shirt off her back if she liked you. She nursed so many people back to health with absolutely no formal medical training. She, herself, beat Diphtheria twice and managed to outlive all of her siblings and even her own daughter (my mother). She lived to be 94 and it was pneumonia that eventually claimed her.

But back to my mom. Because of all the marriages that her mother had, she was subjected to many different stepfathers and more than a few took delight in beating her……badly. Back then the school turned a blind eye to bumps and bruises that more than likely were caused by beatings. Now that I think of it, it’s a miracle that she wasn’t sexually abused on top of that….but maybe her own mother’s bad temper kept the step-dads in their place in that regard.

The rest of my grandmother’s siblings pretty much all had sad lives, just like they started out. My oldest uncle, boy#1, had a terrible addiction with alcohol and found AA in the last 5 years of his life. They helped him so much and he was finally able to kick the habit, but unfortunately he didn’t live long after that. My oldest aunt, girl #2, was never happy and lived in poverty all of her life. She did not have a drinking problem that I ever knew about but her life was filled with sadness and regret. Then the twins….my uncle, boy #2, went on to be a police chief in a small town, he married twice, the second one being a perfect match. He had a pretty happy life because of that. My aunt, girl #3, lived at the orphanage until she was 9 or 10, then she was finally adopted by a very old couple. She was sort of a wild teenager and ended up getting TB and living in a TB hospital for years and years after losing a lung. She had two marriages before that and no children. She died at 78 from complications of about 4 different things and was confined to a wheelchair and living in a nursing home.

I can’t help but wonder…..if James hadn’t been killed in that accident…..how different would all these lives had been.

As for my mom, she met my dad and her life changed forever. My mother was happy, loving and the best mother in the world as far as I'm concerned. She and my father were deeply in love and I'm so happy that her life made that wonderful turn. She really had no training to be a good mother, but she was. Was it because her own childhood had been so bad? I think it was because she was happy, truly happy.

Memories of Our Cruises.....

This picture is similar to the first car I owned, back in 1961. A 1957 Ford Custom, 2 dr. Sedan. My dad got it used for me and I made monthly payments to him to pay him back, plus paid for my own insurance. Price of vehicle was $600. Memories.....priceless.

I was fortunate enough to experience some of my memorable teenage years during 1958 through 1962. It was a wonderful time and although it may bring unhappy memories to some (Vietnam War era), for a lot of us, it was a time like no other. Cruising was all the thing back then. Shiny cars, no cares and great music, cruising along Woodward Avenue between our burb and the next, ..….where all the kids went, ending at the most popular local drive-in restaurant for a 5x5 (big hamburger) and a coke.

One weekend in August a bunch of years ago, some car enthusiasts got together and decided it would be fun to make “the old run”, cruising the highway again….and even do it in some vintage cars. Even though the drive-in is no longer in business, the memories hang in the air. The idea caught on. And now this event has gone from a small one, to one known world-wide. The air is filled with the music of the late 50’s through the 70’s. A lot of people dress just like we dressed back then. For about two weeks prior the event, you can see the cars from that era being driven around town, so shiny they hurt your eyes. The local radio stations have hopped on the band wagon and play all the music from those years we loved so much. At any given moment, you can turn on your radio, close your eyes and travel back in time 40 years or more. Yesterday I was behind a fine looking ’56 Chevy on the way home from work, listening to the Beach Boys.

This weekend is going to be a nice one, even though it won’t be a typically blazing hot August day. The temp should top out at a perfect 80, and the sky is the purest blue and the sun is bright and inviting. I always feel badly for the participants who often trailer their vehicles across country and then have to put up with rain, which has happened frequently. But not this year!

I don’t personally attend anymore; my knee has decided that for me. But I still enjoy the event by watching some of it on TV and listening to all those wonderful songs. I remember driving to work in my senior year, listening to the strains of “Runaround Sue” and “The Wanderer”; I hear them again and my mind travels back….to a simpler time. True, no cell phones, no computers, no video games but we often left our homes unlocked and the keys in the ignition of the family car sitting in the driveway. All of you my age know what I’m talking about. I’m glad I was blessed enough to experience it.

So, if you want, you can check out Dream Cruise and get a glimpse into the past. I often wonder exactly what today’s teen thinks of all this. Probably about the same way I used to feel when my mom talked about the “Big Band Era”, and dancing “The Charleston”.

Memorial Day.....

This day means many different things to many different people. It was always a custom in my family to make the trip to the cemetery with gardening tools and flowers. My family plot is in a very old cemetery that used to be in the country. Now the space all around it has been built up with homes and apartment complexes. This small serene space, however, remains with only minor changes....the addition of another headstone here and there and the trees have grown to towering oaks. There used to be an old handpump for water but that was replaced with a faucet a few years back. I didn't like going there with my dad but I went. He and my grandma (his mother) would work on the grave of his dad and when we left it would be filled with flowers, black wet soil and even the headstone would have been washed off. Grandma planted a small tree by the headstone many years before and it was beginning to show some growth. It was a flowering tree but I can't remember what kind now. Grandma could grow anything. That tree is huge now.

When Grandma died, I still went with my dad to the grave site. My mother didn't go. I never remember her going. When I was older, I used to walk around the whole cemetery and look at the headstones. Some of them were so very old, back in the early 1800's.

My mother was the next one to take up residency there and I only went a very few times. It was hard for me and it still is. My other grandmother was next and then my father. My father passed away 19 years ago; it seems like only last year. I have not been back but maybe 5 or 6 times in all these years. It tears me apart. I did not go this year again....but I may....just not right now. I was very close to my parents and some may think its terrible that I don't go and decorate their graves. I can't go because its too emotional for me to see their names there. I'm not really in denial.....I just don't want to get upset.

They live in my memories and I don't believe a day goes by that I don't think of them or remember something they used to say. Its amazing how wise our parents become the older WE get, isn't it. But I just wanted to put a reference here to them, to both my grandmothers and my grandpa who loved me so much, on this day of remembrance. They were good people and I was lucky to have had them and words can't even express how much I miss them.