Our life and times

This is a collection of links to different “memory” type entries in my blog, mostly about our family.


My brother, me and Mom at the farm, 1984

Camp and camping--Monday Memories

Our lost and missing beds

The end of childhood

My plan to open a book store--Monday Memories

Grandma's grandparents

The Marriage Test--Monday Memories

Sunday night suppers--Monday Memories

Serendipity--Monday Memories

Horse crazy--Monday Memories

World War II Service

My grandparents in the 1920s--Monday Memories

A collection of letters--Monday Memories

My husband's lady friends--Monday Memories

My green thumb--Monday Memories

80 people for brunch--Monday memories

Bits of metal and plastic

Grandma's poem for sons at war

Norma's 1958 diary

My favorite cookbook

Happy Birthday Marines

Christmas Eve dinner

Housing reruns

The Vioxx Case

Waffle Makers

Queen for a Day

Leaning on the Everlasting Arms

When we were young and high tech

Mother's Weather and Crop Reports

On Fathers and Dads

Rebuilding America

Bad Hair Day

Freshman Yearbook

Armistice Day, November 11, 1918

Reunion of the SLOBS (Arsenal Technical H.S., Indianapolis)

High School Letter Sweaters

Reunion of books and things

Revisiting the Robie House

Our Class Reunions

How do you fix a broken zipper

The 50th Anniversary

I love Martha Stewart

Piero Fornasetti Plates

The value of a college education in dollars

The Good-Bye Letter

Six Reasons to be Late for the Party

Summers at Camp Emmaus

Children and Sleep

Christmas in Indiana

An irregular face

Cancer with the Experts

The night the cat died

Canine Cardiology

Happy Birthdays

The ghost of William B. McKinley

Wenger genealogy

Mouse Dirt (Forreston)

Family memorabilia

Halloween in the 70s

Lake Webster 1953

October 4, 1957

On being a good parent

Veterans Day 2006--Uncle Clare

Mt. Morris and Forreston, Illinois

Grandma's hymnal

Cousin Marianne's 90th birthday

The generations

Uncle and nephew

Life after high school

Carol, Cindy and Greg

Debbie and John visit Lakeside

Our Schurch [Shirk, Sherk] genealogy

Sisters, 2007 and 1957

Remodeled kitchesn

Big Hair

A genealogy prayer list

Spring snow 1975

Paper dolls

Monday Memories

Monday Memories

Did I ever tell you about my green thumb?

On one of my parents’ visits (they lived in Illinois and we live in Ohio) when our children were about 4 and 5, my mother gave them each a small potted houseplant. I think they may have been starts from her kitchen window collection. I'm absolutely terrible with plants, but these two little things (I never took them out of their original pots and have no idea what they are called) managed to survive on my window sill at our house for over 30 years. They always looked just awful, but they were alive, and I admired their spunk.

People who knew about plants would pause at the window and try to snip off a few dead leaves and make suggestions like, "Why are you binding up their poor little feet in those small pots," or "Have you thought about fertilizer, moving them, trimming them, etc." But the two little plants just kept on keeping on, year after year, through pre-school, grade school, high school, birthday parties, prom dates, family crises, the kids moving out and finally moving on to their own marriages and homes and coming back to visit. In fact, those poor little scruffy, pitiful, limp plants sat on the window sill through two wedding brunches, in 1993 and 1998 (one described last week).

Before we moved to the condo in 2002 I gave one plant to my son, who seems to know about how to encourage green things. He even has a cactus collection; flowers bloom around his mailbox. The other one I put in the stairwell for a bit of greenery that wasn't artificial. Every now and then I'd bring it to the kitchen so it could look out the window, but there really is no place for plants in this kitchen. In general, condos are a bit light-deprived. Our house had 34 windows; the condo has maybe 10.

In mid-May of 2002 the remaining stunted, deprived plant started to falter. When I returned home from my parents' burial (Mom died in 2000 and Dad in 2002, but they were interred together) in late May I thought maybe it needed more sun since it had been accustomed to an east window at our house. So I put it outside in the covered entry area--you know--fresh air, sunshine. It works for people.

It continued to wilt, obviously in the throes of a death struggle. One little vine was left with green leaves among some sticks. After 32 years, I actually bought a bag of potting soil--something I'd never done when the little twig still had a chance. I moved it to a larger pot and put it on the deck on the north side to see if I could encourage it. But I think it knew its job was over.

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Monday Memories

Monday Memories
Did I ever tell you about
How my Grandparents lived in the 1920s?
My grandparents, living on a farm in Ogle County, Illinois, in the 1920s (many years before I was born), were far better prepared to deal with any disaster that involved interruption of basic services by a blizzard, tornado or terrorist attack than I am. They were not technology-dependent, they didn't see themselves as victims, and some of their children didn't even know they were poor.

My grandparents were tenants on a farm that didn't have running water or electricity. They used corn cobs in the kitchen cook stove and coal or oil in a space heater for the main room. All water for cooking, cleaning and bathing was drawn from a cistern. They owned an automobile which had an engine most men and boys of that era knew how to repair. Illinois did not yet license drivers, so even children drove cars if they were tall enough. They had a crystal radio and kerosene lamps. Their draft horse was available for bad weather days when the unpaved roads were impassable. A small gasoline motor powered some simple machinery, like the washing machine, and clothes were hung outside to dry. Outdoor privies weren't pleasant, but they did the job--smelly in the summer and chilly in the winter and the Sears Roebuck catalog could be used for light reading or toilet paper.

My grandmother always canned enough beans, corn and tomatoes from the large garden to get the family through the winter months; root crops like carrots, onions, turnips and potatoes were stored in the cellar; the few dairy cows supplied the family with milk, cream and butter, and the extra milk and male calves were a cash crop to buy items not raised on the farm like sugar and flour; hogs were butchered with the help of neighbors to make sausage, bacon, hams, chops and lard; cows were not butchered, so they didn't eat beef; the chickens laid eggs, and the tough, older hens later were served over biscuits.

Although they raised nine children, my grandparents never sent anyone to the doctor or hospital. None of the children were vaccinated and antibiotics hadn't been invented yet. When a new baby arrived, the older children went to the neighbors to spend the night and the doctor came to Grandma. All of the children worked at jobs appropriate for their ages--taking care of babies, setting the table, drawing water, cleaning the house, washing dishes, weeding the garden, swatting flies (no screens), feeding cattle, chopping wood, mucking stalls, or helping younger children by being their mother's eyes (my grandmother was blind). No need for Grandma to be a soccer mom--the children were too busy being essential to the family. That probably took care of self esteem worries too. My father was the oldest and he didn’t remember any toys, not even a bike or a baseball bat. However, there were always other children around to play with--siblings, cousins and neighbors--so Grandma didn't need a calendar to track their social activities.

When the children needed clothes, aunts and cousins would drop by to help with the sewing using a foot pedal sewing machine, catching up on the family news and gossip. There wasn't much variety at meal time, but the gravy could be watered down if the dinner table included a less fortunate visitor, as it often did. Not too far down the road was the little Pine Creek Church of the Brethren the children attended with their mother and they were educated in a one room school.

My grandparents, who died in 1983, loved every 20th century advancement that made their life easier--perhaps appreciated them more than the grandchildren and great-grandchildren (there are over 100 of us). Grandma, who nursed all her babies, thought women were crazy not to bottle feed if they could. They were "early adapters" in some areas and owned a car and a radio long before many of their neighbors. About 10 years after leaving the farm, they built a Lustron home, the ultimate in modernity in 1950 with radiant heat and built-in appliances and furniture. You would never have been able to convince them that life was better “in the old days.”

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Monday Memories

Memories of School

I saw this meme at Cathy Knits, and it is supposed to be for Friday, but I’m moving it to my Monday Memories. Cathy is a teacher and her school started August 4!

1. What is your earliest memory of school?

I attended kindergarten in Alameda, California, and I remember a lot about it. It was a one floor plan with canopies outside joining the buildings. We were given milk in small bottles which tasted wretched--why I don’t know, because I like milk. There were African American and Filipino children in my class and I’d never seen either being from rural Illinois.

2. Who was a favorite teacher in your early education?

Miss DeWall was my third grade teacher in Forreston, Il and my favorite. None of my classmates remembered her so I finally contacted her cousin (my age and also a teacher) to confirm it wasn’t just my imagination that she was so wonderful, kind and funny.

3. What do you remember about school “back then” that is different from what you know about schools now?

My first grade teacher would yank on my braids if I got my face too close to my work, and would tie a towel around my head if I talked out of turn. I don’t think that would be allowed today, nor was it appropriate then--other teachers didn’t behave that way. Special needs children were in the classrooms, but often didn’t stay in school because there was no work at their level and they weren't treated well. However, I remember a 16 year old in a 7th grade class. The female teachers all wore suits or dresses and high heels. Classrooms were much quieter. The music teacher served many schools in the district and we'd do a fabulous production once a year; there were no art classes except what the classroom teacher provided in any school I attended, K-12.

4. Did you have to memorize in school? If so, share a poem or song you learned.

We did some memorization, but not a lot. It’s one of the lacks that makes me wonder when the "golden age" of education was. I was always impressed that my mother, who went to school in the 1920s, could recite "Hiawatha" while we were doing dishes. I do remember some songs we learned, like Yankee Doodle, Waltzing Matilda and Home on the Range.

5. Did you ever get in trouble at school? Were there any embarrassing moments you can share?

See above. I was always talking out of turn. Still do. I was a real mess in first grade. I’m living proof you can have a bad start, and still love school. We’d moved in mid-year, and in my new school I stood up to look at someone else’s paper because we were “spelling,” and I was clueless. Although we were reading at the first school, we hadn’t started writing down words as the teacher spoke them aloud. I also had to stay after school one time until I could tell my teacher what a paragraph was. In 2001 my Dad drove me through a cemetery where her gravestone was--but she hadn’t died yet! I think she was over 100 years old when she died a year or two ago.

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Monday Memories

The Lakeside Wooden Boat Show was just yesterday (July 2) however, it brought back many memories for a lot of people. This is only the 2nd year, but like classic car shows, it really brings in the people, particularly in the Lake Erie vacation land. The Lakeside Wooden Boat Society also builds boats in a tent in the park so people can learn how to do it.







Lots of activity here for people learning how to create and put a finish on a wooden boat. Children and old folks welcome.


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Lakeside, Ohio

Monday Memories

Cousin Kirby, seated on floor, album cover, The Lincolns* Kirby and I at a family reunion in 1993 Kirby Johnson and I were first cousins and about the same age (I think my grandparents had 24 grandchildren). Our families would gather at my grandmother's home in Mt. Morris on Sunday afternoons, and the little house would be full of cousins. I remember he had terrible asthma and I think he took up trumpet to help his breathing. We both attended the University of Illinois, where we graduated in 1961--he in music and I in Education. He was a member of the concert band and was in a music fraternity, so our paths rarely crossed on campus. While at Illinois he and some friends formed a folk singing group called "The Continentals," and then changed the name to "The Lincolns." I was only vaguely aware of what they were doing, but I have one of their records (cover photo above). After college they headed for California and the "big time," touring the country with Donald O'Connor in 1962-63. Kirby by this time was playing many instruments and singing. Their album was the commercially viable pop/folk tunes so popular in the early 60s, with a number of the songs written by Rich Dehr, Frank Miller and Terry Gilkyson, of "Marianne" and "Memories are made of this" fame. Kirby stopped to see me in Champaign in 1963 after the death of my son, but I didn't see him again for thirty years. His home was in California and after 1967 mine was in Ohio, and when we returned to Illinois to visit family, our paths didn't cross. I knew the group performed on TV and changed its name to The Wellingtons. So through the magic of Google and the internet I looked him up this week. I discovered that he and his group (by then a trio) recorded the original Gilligan's Island Ballad. Rick Jarrard had left the group to become a producer. It was a rush job and no studios were open so it was actually recorded in someone's garage (according to one message board). Many sites still list them in the credits, but another said it was re-recorded the next season by a different group. According to Rick and Darva's Gossip page, the Wellingtons appeared on one of the episodes of Gilligan's Island as a band called "The Mosquitos," a take off on the Beatles, having added Les Brown, Jr. to the group. Kirby performed regularly with The Wellingtons on Hollywood Palace, a popular, long-running Saturday night variety show of the mid-to-late 1960's often hosted by Bing Crosby. They also performed 64 times on Shindig! according to a fan site. I found Kirby's name as a performer, conductor and arranger on the albums of some big name performers like Carly Simon [No Secrets, 1972; Another Passenger, 1976], Harry Nilsson and Bonnie Raitt. I think he probably had a fairly strong career in concert touring, TV and as a studio musician at least through the mid-1980s**. I never heard much after that, and didn't find many Google entries for later dates. I did find a 1986 film (music arranging) credit. It is difficult to tell, since many recordings are reissued and the credits run very long. We got together at a family reunion in 1993--in some ways he seemed the same sweet boy I knew as a child, but he was also world-weary. He died in 1999. Most of the pop music web sites and bulletin boards say that Kirby became an attorney, but if he did, no one in our family ever knew about it. And some web sites say a group called the Wellingtons recorded Disney's "Ballad of Davy Crockett," but if so it wasn't for the TV series (Mellomen one of whom was the voice of Tony the Tiger)--the guys in the Wellingtons wouldn't even have been out of high school in Illinois. Some sites say Wade became a producer, but I think it was Jarrard--but maybe they both did. The internet is fabulous, but there's a lot of misinformation too. And it's not much cleaner in the Wiki's. *Members of The Lincolns were Kirby Johnson, Rick Jarrard, Ed Wade and George Patterson **There is another musician also named Kirby Johnson, so more recent entries most likely belong to that person. 1. Ma 2. Natalie 3. The Shrone 4. Libragirl 5. Reverberate58 6. Shelli 7. Lazy Daisy 8. Old Lady of the Hills 9. Chelle If you'd like to join in on Monday Memories, leave a comment and I'll link back to you. Click here for the Monday Memories code Trackbacks, pings, and comment links are accepted and encouraged! View More Monday Memories Participants The Wellingtons Hollywood Palace Shindig! Kirby Johnson

Monday Memories

Have I ever told you about the cottages we used to rent?

This week we're at Lakeside, OH, where our family began vacationing in 1974. We've rented some nice and not so nice cottages, and bought our own place in 1988 (see this Monday Memory for that story).

Our first place was on Plum--a four family and really dreary inside and not too clean. Racoons ran up and down the gutter next to our screened window at night--nearly scaring me to death. But it was only $45/week and worth every penny. We spent a lot of time at the beach at East Harbor.

I believe this was the next summer, also a four family and was lakefront, so we had some great views when the storms rolled in. The decor was similar, however, I knew to bring a small vacuum cleaner and a fan. The kids had a great time playing on the rocks and fishing right outside the cottage.

This little cottage on Poplar, the last street on the east side, had a nice kitchen where we could see Lake Erie. There was a hammock on the front porch. We used a photo of the kids in the hammock with our neighbors' dog for our Christmas card that year.

We stayed in both of these, maybe our fourth and fifth summers. The gray one looked adorable on the outside, but the furniture wasn't very comfortable. The beige looked plain, but was very nice inside with great beds. Met lots of neighborhood kids to play with.

Then it was back to the lakefront, just 2 houses from the fourplex where we'd stayed. A duplex and we were upper level. This was the year we brought along one bicycle, which we all shared. Started bringing friends along.

This cottage on Jasmine was the first we rented that had 1.5 bathrooms, and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven! Plus, there was a family next door (who are still there but now with grandchildren) who had a daughter one year old than ours and a son one year younger than ours, so they included our children in family activities--like fishing! This house has been through several color changes since we rented in the 70s and now has vinyl siding and a paved driveway.

This red log cabin, 3 bedroom ranch on Laurel was my very most favorite of all the cottages we rented. I think we had it our last 3 summers for a family rental. Our final Lakeside summer, the kids were sneaking out the windows at night, which sort of took the fun out of being here. The owners sold it and the new owners didn't rent. So I think 1984 was our last time here as a family.

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Lakeside, Ohio

Monday Memories: Did I ever tell you about MY HUSBAND'S LADY FRIENDS? In 1994 when my husband took a buy-out from the downtown Columbus architectural firm where he was an owner, he was also leaving the exercise class at the Y where he was an instructor. I suggested an aerobics class meeting at our suburban church just 2 miles from our home where he established his new office. He was a bit reluctant since it was an all female and much younger group, but he tried the two classes, strength and aerobics, taught by a variety of instructors who were formidable, powerful and funny. He was hooked. Control and discipline are needed both for sustained attendance in exercise class and for working at home. Although he is now in the process of retiring as a sole practitioner architect, his work day these past 12 years was always as disciplined as if he had to show up at a downtown office. He always dressed appropriately to be on the job, allowed himself one hour for lunch, and worked various lunch time gatherings or breakfast groups into his schedule so that he was not isolated from male friends and colleagues. The benefits of these exercise classes reached far beyond cardiovascular fitness. He overheard the young mothers talking about the need for teachers for Vacation Bible School and before he knew it, he had been signed up to teach first graders for two weeks. He loved teaching the children and has participated now for 12 years. He has made many new friends and has found he has a real gift for working with children. He now mentors young boys at an urban school. He is also enormously popular with the ladies because he is thoughtful, respectful and courtly (I‘m not jealous because I know what he looks like in exercise clothes). Their husbands or family may forget a special day, but not my husband. One year he hired an artist/caricaturist to come to the class to draw the instructors. The artist stayed after class to do caricatures of class members and their children. That year each woman got a balloon tied to a banana with a ribbon from him. Other years, each woman has received flowers on Valentine's day. A few years ago a woman told me she was a new widow when my husband gave her the only flowers she got for Valentine’s Day. He has had T-shirts screened that say, "I work out with [his name]--someone has to do it" which many of the women wear in class. His own shirts proclaim, "I work out with 50 women; my mom didn't raise any dummies." He remembers birthdays and gives the discouraged a hug or a funny card. A few special friends have even received T-shirts screened with one of his paintings. I'm sure there would be more men in the class (he's still the only one) if they only knew how much fun my husband has and how much the ladies love him. As I write this, he is at aerobics class filling in for an injured instructor. P.S. Just so you know: when I retired in 2000 I joined the class too. However, the exercise area (fellowship hall) is slab-on-grade, and not a forgiving surface for impact exercises, so after two years I left (and have gained 14 pounds). Links to other Monday Memories 1. Pet 2. Shelli, 3. Kimmy, 4. Courtney, 5. Kdubs, 6. Melanie, 7. Joan, who is writing about her mom and it happens to be Monday, 8. Rowan, 9. Jen, 10. Amy 11. Renee, 12. OceanLady (If you participate, leave your link in the comments and I'll post it here) Click here for the Monday Memories code Click here for Shelli's blog Trackbacks, pings, and comment links are accepted and encouraged! View More Monday Memories Participants Post in the comments if you want to be on the MM blogroll!

Monday Memories

Last week my husband took some of his watercolor paintings up to Delaware, OH for an art show. All were accepted. So today's Monday Memories is a photo from the Upper Arlington Art Show of 1975. This show started as an art exhibit for local artists in 1966 near the Miller Park Library with about a dozen artists. Don Dodrill, a painter friend of ours got the ball rolling. Then when it outgrew that space, it moved to Jones Middle School for a few years, then up to the city building on Kenney Road, across from the OSU golf course. That's where this photo was taken. The show is now in Northam Park each Labor Day and attracts tens of thousands.

1975 Labor Day Art Show
Although we have lots of paintings in our house, and many at our children's and relatives' homes, we also buy art. We bought 2 watercolors in Russia this summer, and here is the painting we bought from Don Dodrill, the founder of the Upper Arlington Labor Day show.

This is a bit fuzzy, but I wanted Don in the picture.

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Monday Memories: Our Lakeside bicycles

Although I don't have the first photo with me, this bicycle was a birthday gift for me in 1968 when our daughter was still a baby. It is a no gear, no speed (but me) old fashioned bike with coaster brakes and I love it more each year. Several years ago I replaced the original seat, and around 1979 we replaced the tires, which had been damaged when a friend had a spill riding it. The original tires weren't this wide, so we had to cut some of the fender back to get it to fit.

About 15 years ago we bought a 10 speed Raleigh from a neighbor for about $20 and brought it to the lake. This year the tires gave out so my husband took it to the local bike shop for repairs. The two tires, new rims, new tubes, gear repair, new carrying rack and all-round tune-up cost us $100! I was in shock.
Everyone in Lakeside parks their cars and rides bikes. Our expensive refurbished used Raleigh bike is in here somewhere.

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Lakeside, Ohio

Monday Memories

Grandma's farm
Did I ever tell you about Sunday night suppers?
Thirty years ago, my children thought eating sandwiches and potato chips for Sunday night supper on trays in the living room was just about the most exciting treat ever! That’s because we didn’t do it very often. Our only TV was in the living room, so they probably watched a Disney show. I was pretty strict about eating together as a family, and even for breakfast, the table was set. By 1976 the lime green shag living room carpet (we didn’t have a family room until 1982) was about four years old, so we probably didn’t do it at all when it was new (and they would have been too small to manage a tray much before that).

When I was a child in the 1950s, Sunday night suppers were special, too. Oh, Mom made wonderful dinners--my mouth waters as I think of it. She’d put the roast in before we went to church or she fixed fried chicken when she got home. The table in the dining room in our house on Hannah Avenue or in our Forreston home would be set with the white linen table cloth and the good white china with a gold rim. Dad would always say the prayer--and I would know the ending if I heard it today, but I‘ve forgotten it now. I’m sure there were mashed potatoes and gravy and vegetables and fruit from the cellar where she kept the home canned items in gleaming glass jars. Even though at the time I didn’t think the clean up and dishes were so great (no one had dishwashers then and she had 3 daughters), I remember that fondly now as a time to chat with Mom.

As good as dinner was at noon, Sunday night with various relatives stopping by was especially nice. Can’t even remember now what we had--maybe sandwiches or left-overs, perhaps a second helping of her fabulous apple pie. But it was casual and relaxed. And occasionally Daddy would disappear and come back with 2 pints of ice cream (we had a refrigerator, but no freezer). We children would just die of excitement and try to guess the flavor until he would get back. Mom would slice the two pints into six even portions and put them into cereal bowls. You wanted it to last as long as possible, but Dad ate quickly and would look in our bowls with his spoon poised and tease, “Do you need any help finishing that?”

Also, I know my Grandmother Mary was without electricity for only a short time after WWII at her farm in Franklin Grove, but I remember Sunday evening suppers in the 1940s of sandwiches on trays by kerosene lamp. Grandma wasn’t much of a cook, but I thought her baloney sandwiches spread thick with butter (we had neither at our house) were a fabulous treat. After a supper of sandwiches, her homemade grape juice from her backyard arbor, and factory canned peaches in dainty little glass dishes, we’d load up the car and start down the gravel lane for home. I’d press my nose against the car window and watch Grandma waving good-bye from the porch silhouetted against the flickering kerosene light in the kitchen.

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Monday Memories: Did I ever tell you about: When my letters turned into a memoir?
When my children left home about 20 years ago, I was suffering from empty nest syndrome big time. I decided to gather up the letters I’d written to my mother and sisters and the ones they’d written me and excerpt the “crazy” time in our year--from about Halloween through January so I would have a written record of our family life. Both children have November birthdays, so that’s about the time things really heated up at our house.

After looking through the letters (which my mother had saved), I pushed the time line back another 10 years and started with my years in college until I had about 30 years worth of letters. And I added in letters from girl friends, cousins, and in-laws. (I never throw away a letter). It was hours of typing (at the office after work since I didn’t have a computer then) and careful editing out really personal stuff. My husband designed an artistic cover, and I had the little book reproduced and bound at Kinko's.

Although the collection recorded all the cute and interesting things about my children’s growing up years, it also inadvertently became a story about a group of women--with a few men around the fringes--who were keeping things going by following a few familiar holiday traditions. At the beginning, I'm a college student and my mother is 47 years old with three children in college, a married daughter and two little grandchildren. My niece and nephew are 3 and 2 in the first letter and then are parents of their own children at the end, and repeating many of the same traditions, questions, and yearnings we letter writers had. Some people who didn’t write letters are in the collection anyway--their health and well-being and activities reported by the women who tell the stories year after year.

These letters recorded the ordinary events of our lives to the faint drumbeat of the cold war, the civil rights movement, space flight, the VietNam war, political campaigns, Watergate, economic growth and slowdown cycles, the rise of feminism, employment crises, career changes and family reconfigurations. On and on we wrote, from the conservatism of the Eisenhower years, on through the upheaval of the 60's, the stagnation of the 70's, then into the conservatism of Reagan/Bush in the 80s. National and international events are rarely discussed in these letters as though we were pulling the family close into the nest for a respite from the world's woes. If you were to read the letters, you might miss that we were even aware of world events. Or maybe because, as one of my sisters noted in a letter, when you're struggling on the home front sometimes there isn't much left to give to others.

The edited letters became the rhythm of women's lives--nursing a dying parent, holding a sick child, putting up the tree, playing the old records, going to the post office, baking favorite Christmas cookies, helping with school work, going to holiday programs, creating crafts with the children, shopping for gifts, checking the sky for some sunshine, wallpapering the hall, folding the laundry, looking for that just right job.

E-mail and blogging will have an effect on family memoirs--it will be interesting to review this phenomenon in 30 years. Digital is much less permanent than paper. Print out what is worth keeping--your children will be grown and gone the next time you turn around. And when they ask you why you printed them out for safe keeping, tell them, "Because Norma said so."

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1. Kimmy, 2. AnvilCloud 3. Katherine, 4. Courtney, 5. Frog Legs, 6. Shelli, 7. Libragirl, 8. Melanie, 9. Beckie,


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Monday Memories

Did I ever tell you about The day I had 80 people for brunch on a Spring day? This is my list of instructions I taped to the inside of a cabinet door, so I could check our progress as we went along. My daughter, son-in-law, and their sister-in-law were helping me. I found this list going through my files today and thought it made a nice "memory" blog. The menu was breakfast egg casserole, tender crisp fresh asparagus, rolls and muffins, mixed fresh fruit, and beverage. I used china and silver, but did use paper napkins. Food 2 baked breakfast casseroles (which my daughter prepared at her house) here by 10 a.m. One bacon, one no meat. Start 4 casseroles in the oven at 350 at 10 a.m. Two sausage, one bacon, one no meat. Start 2 casseroles at 11 a.m. Baking time is about one hour, and can sit awhile to firm up. This means the oven is on for 2 hours. If it gets too hot, open the kitchen window. One fruit mixture has strawberries. Use it first; large glass bowl. Other has apples. Keep water at near boiling temperature and cook asparagus as needed in large saucepan. Keep 2 vegetable bowls rotating for asparagus. There are 8 doz dinner rolls, 47 muffins, 16 sweet rolls, 10 pumpkin-cranberry, 19 coffee cake. Use the large glass plate and put only two types on a plate--have another plate prepared in kitchen, ready to go; do not put out a selection of all. Margarine and butter. Home-made jam. Beverage Coffee urn serves 30; ask Peggy to make. Decaf in maroon caraffe; make in 12 cup drip. I think the coffee will go fast, so we might want to make a 12 cup to keep ready while the 30 cup is re-brewing. Sweet 'n low, sugar, creamer, half n half, skim milk. Glass cups--15-20; we'll need to use styrofoam for backup (cups that match china are too difficult to use away from a table). Tea bags and cappuccino in kitchen with hot water next to dining room door. Orange juice on buffet in glass pitcher. Plastic cups for oj. Flatware and china 20 plates and flatware on table; when this is used, put out green pattern plates from kitchen counter. Meanwhile (son-in-law) collect used plates, scrape and wash and replace on table with clean flatware. Napkins inside cabinet. Kitchen Keep south counter for stacking clean dishes. Wash left to right with space immediately left of sink for dirty dishes. Leave north counter clear for fruit and bread preparation. Use dishwasher top next to stove for casseroles and asparagus preparation. Keep trash container under sink. Dirty pans go to laundry room--wash later. All food prep and serving in kitchen; carry to dining room Seating By 11:30 it should be warm enough to be sitting on the patio. 2 tables, 12 chairs. 3 director's chairs with snack table on driveway side for smokers. 4 chairs in den. 9-10 in office. 11 in living room. If looking for a place to sit, can also use my office, or the guest room upstairs. Hang coats in front closet. Addendum, Feb. 2006: It was a fabulous day; everything went as planned; everyone had a great time and plenty to eat. And the hostess had a good time. If it had rained. . .there would be a different blog here. Links to other Monday Memories (If you participate, leave your link in the comments and I'll post it below) 1. Joan, 2. Running2K, 3. Kimmy and Jacob, 4. Ladybug

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Monday Memories

Have I ever told you about the summer we bought our little Lakeside cottage?

The summer of 1988 was ghastly hot--and a drought in Ohio. We'd rented a small cottage north of Fifth Street in Lakeside for our summer vacation. We thought it a blessing that it had recently been renovated and had ceiling fans. Even a walk along the lakefront brought no relief; a night cruise on Lake Erie felt like a door slammed in your face when the boat stopped moving. One day we were walking the perimeter of the town, whether for exercise or from an attempt to get away from the oppressive heat, I don't remember. And there it was. A little cottage with a "for sale" sign that we'd never seen. I climbed up the broken concrete steps to the back door--"Oh my goodness," I shouted, "it has a real kitchen, and a basement!" We walked around to the front and tried the porch door--it was open. We peeked into the living room. "It has a fireplace," I gasped. "This is a house, not a cottage."

Being the practical sort, I figured if you had to pay a mortgage 12 months of the year it would be nice to be able to use it 12 months. So we contacted the realtor, but also looked at two other cottages, one a large "4 square" from the early 20th century and one a small red 19th century farm house style. Both looked very nice on the outside, but were very cottagey on the inside, with either board thin walls or cut up tiny rooms. When we finally got into the "Thompson place" (cottages are always known by the long time owner's name), we were smitten. The widow who had started to renovate after her husband died had been diagnosed with cancer and moved to Florida. But she had already installed a.c., storm windows, new bathroom fixtures, and additional kitchen cabinets, so we knew that as long distance owners, we wouldn't have that worry.

Our mortgage on our home in Columbus had recently been paid off, so we weren't too alarmed by taking on a new one, except that in 1988 mortgages were 10.5%. I had taken a tenure track position in 1986, so we had that cushion. Still, I had a month or two of sleepless nights worry about debt, but it gave me something to think about other than my kids who had recently left home. We love living there in the summer, which we are now able to do, and have always enjoyed the cultural events (Chautauqua circuit) which include a month of symphony, summer theater, opera, ballet, pop music, lectures, Bible studies, vespers and art classes.

A summer home is rarely a good investment when you figure you only use it a few months of the year, but in the early years of owning it, we did go up more frequently off season than we do now. It's paid for now and has appreciated considerably (5 or 6 times more than the purchase price)--in fact, we couldn't afford this house if we were looking today. However, we've replaced the roof, added a deck, replaced the HVAC, landscaped and completely redecorated inside and out.

The one thing we were going to replace the first season, is still there, and that's the funny little porch that doesn't fit the 1940s design of the cottage. You just have to have a porch at Lakeside, and although this one is ugly, it is tight, easy to heat or cool, acts as passive solar in the winter, and protects the main house in the summer. We sure haven't forgotten that first hot summer of 1988, even though it's never been that bad again--and today we wouldn't be able to get a variance to replace it.

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1. Ocean Lady 2. Libragirl, 3. Yellow Rose 4. Mysterious Lady, (bring along a hankie) 5. The Shrone, 6. Carol, 7. Lazy Daisy 8. Melli, 9. Flip Flop Floozie 10. Ma

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Lakeside, Ohio

Monday Memories

This photo is from my sewing blog, but I'll repost it here because I can't get blogger to upload the photo I wanted to use.


So I'll just list the items here that are "memories." The quilt was made by my grandmother's sister Martha who died in childbirth at age 34 in 1889 leaving a husband and two little boys; the two cloth dolls are mine, one made for me by a neighbor, Ruth Crowell, and one by my mother; next to them is a handmade by my great-grandfather, stackable spool thread holder and pin cushion, with 19th century thread; the 2 glass jars have decorative glass lids and were used for jelly and jam made by my grandmother from her grape arbor; the decorative plate belonged to my husband's grandmother, Neno; the odd shaped metal thing lying on its side was used by my great-grandmother Susan to punch down bread dough back when that activity consumed a lot of a woman's time; the blue glass insulator is from an electric pole probably replaced in the 1940s; the dark cup is actually a sterling silver engraved baby cup given to my daughter by her paternal grandparents (needed some polish); in the cup are engraved baby spoons given to our oldest son; the long flat object is a rug hooker in its original box used by my great-grandmother and I think it was used for repair, not for making rugs.

Hanging on the wall in a ca. 1930s frame is an embroidered saying about mothers, and I think it was made by my husband's mother when she was a teen-ager; the subject of my husband's watercolor on the wall is the barn hay loft on my mother's farm, originally owned by her grandfather, now owned by my brother; the scenes on the quilt over the chair are of buildings in Mt. Morris, IL where my family lived; it is folded on the chair of my husband's grandfather refinished and recaned in the 1970s; and my grandparents' lamp in the foreground was converted from a kerosene lamp to an electric lamp in the early 1900s and is now in my living room.

Along the ceiling is a wallpaper border with book patterns which covered up the cats stenciled there some years before. This room was my office in our house (sold in 2002), and I really liked it because I could look out over the trees and enjoy all the family memories. However, the realtor said we should convert it back to a bedroom in order to sell the house, so we did by packing all this away and borrowing some furniture and toys.

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My visitors and visited this week are:Ma, Viamarie, Mrs. Lifecruiser, Reverberate58, Lazy Daisy, Lady Bug, Janene, Michelle, Fruitful Spirit, Anna, Krystyna,Chelle,

Monday Memories

Have I ever told you about Aunt Dorothy's Taco Salad?

We're heading into summer so this is a good time to tell you about "Aunt Dorothy's Taco Salad." As a new bride, Aunt Dorothy moved to California near the end of WWII, and never returned to Illinois except for visits. One of my earliest memories is her wedding which was held in our home, and I was allowed to attend. I was probably about 4 years old and was just stunned with the excitement and thrill--I thought she looked like a movie star with red lipstick and nails (although I'd never seen a movie, we had movie star paper dolls.) Later that month my Dad, left for the Marines and our quiet life changed overnight because we soon left for California too, leaving behind our house, friends, relatives, neighbors and pets--my whole universe. She and Uncle Charlie made a home in Long Beach and raised their two boys there. But I saw her from time to time over the years, most recently in 2003, and always enjoyed her lovely personality and cheerful Christian spirit.

High School graduationShe sent me this recipe in 1993 for a family reunion cook-book which I compiled. Of course, I had to try most of them (I didn't do the complicated ones like yeast rolls for Christmas morning) and added my own personal touch for our use. This is her version. I double this for company--doesn't seem to matter much what the proportions are how how many other ingredients you use.

1 lb. hamburger
1 medium head lettuce, shredded (chopped)
1 large tomato chopped
1/4 cup minced onion
1 cup grated cheddar cheese
1/2 cup KRAFT Catalina dressing (this makes it!)
1 1/2 cup mashed taco flavored taco chips
Kidney or garbanzo beans may be added

Saute hamburger as you would for tacos. Drain, set in refrigerator to cool. Mix together shredded lettuce, onions, tomatoes, cooled meat and dressing and mashed chips. Add chips just before serving.

I don't follow these instructions. I arrange all the ingredients in serving bowls and let the guests create their own salad. I don't like the taco flavored chips, so I use the regular yellow or white corn chips, and let the diner decide what to do with them--either put them on the bottom or the top or use as a scoop. I serve the meat hot cooked with the dressing and I use heated Brooks Hot Chili Beans. I put out a cup of sour cream to spred over the top. Shredded cheddar also comes with a taco flavoring. In fact, I've made so many changes, at our house, it is Dorothy and Norma's Taco Salad.

My husband liked this salad so much he used it for some of his week-ends at the Lake with his friends--making about 3 or 4 times the basic recipe. The guys would eat this the entire week-end. That may be why we haven't used it for several years.

Because we hadn't had it for awhile, I made it for our Memorial Day week-end at the Lake with Bill and Joyce two weeks ago. It was good, but not fabulous. Oh well, I thought, I'm probably just disremembering how good it was in the 90s. The following Monday on the drive home, I remembered that I'd left the lunch meat and cheese in the refrigerator at the lakehouse. And then it came to me. I also had neglected to put out the shredded cheese for the taco salad. No wonder it didn't taste, feel or look right.

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1. Wandi has no MM, but good stuff, 2. Ma Tutu Bent 3. Uisce 4. Lazy Daisy, 5. Mysterious Lady, 6. Shrone, 7. If Life were perfect, 8. Yellow Roses Garden, 9. Lifecruiser, 10. Chi, has no MM, but a cute quiz, 11. Purple Kangaroo, 12. Chelle, 13.

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taco salad

Monday Memories--Remembering Mother

January 24 will be the seventh anniversary of my mother's death. I remember getting the call at my office in the library at OSU and the overwhelming feeling of desolation and abandonment. But also I felt relief. She had died as she lived--with peace and dignity. Here's what I wrote about her in 2004 when her second cousin Marianne who lived in Iowa (their grandparents were siblings) returned a batch of her letters to me.

"I didn’t wait until Mother's death to canonize her as some have done with their parents. I've always known I had an exceptional mother (well, not counting those awful teenage years when I knew everything and she knew nothing!). And I've never known anyone who thought otherwise. She was, however, a rather private person, kept her own counsel, I think is the phrase. Didn't dabble in controversy. Didn't gossip. Didn't argue. So her letters from 1975 to 1998 are less than forthcoming. Weather report. Crop report. Grandchildren report. Health report (as they aged).

Each year Mother wrote Marianne promises or near-promises to travel to Iowa so they could see each other in person, but as far as I can tell from the letters, this only happened for Thanksgiving in 1988, although the Iowans did visit in Illinois in the late 70s.

Since Marianne was her cousin and also Brethren, she did share some thoughts on their common heritage on Christmas: "[at a 1978 retreat] no one of Brethren background could recall Christmas trees except at our country school programs. Most of us hung up stockings as children. Christmas dinners with relatives and programs at church and school seemed bigger than our present celebrations. Gifts were mostly homemade. We had lots of fun and excitement as we remembered."

She fretted a little on Memorial Day 1975 that she and her sister were the only ones left to place flowers at the grave sites of parents and brother, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, something their mother had always done. In 1987 she recalls visiting in Iowa her great Aunt Annie as a young child--"the comb honey served at meals and the fat feather mattress we slept on reached with a little foot stool. I wish I might have known them at a later age when memories wouldn’t be so dim and one could appreciate more."

Finally, in 1998, Mother writes Marianne that "I try to tell Amy (granddaughter, early 30s) stories about the family [learned from Marianne's mother] so someone remembers how the George family spread out and came west."

Remember to pass along those family stories to your children and grandchildren. Monday Memories is very useful for that.

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My visitors and those I'll visit this week are:Anna, Becki, Chelle, Chelle Y., Cozy Reader, Debbie, Friday's Child, Gracey, Irish Church Lady, Janene, Janene in Ohio, Jen, Katia, Lady Bug, Lazy Daisy, Ma, Mrs. Lifecruiser, Melli, Michelle, Paul, Susan, Viamarie.

Monday Memories of summer camp

Have I ever told you about summer camp?

Americans have had a long love affair with the camping experience, both the organized and informal types. My mother told stories of camping as a little girl with her parents in the 1920s. They packed their cooking utensils and tents and strapped the dog's carrier to the running board and headed for Nebraska where they owned property. The family also attended a summer camp in northern Indiana, Winona Lake.

When I was a child, my parents never camped or even took family vacations. However, our little town, Forreston, where we lived until I was in 6th grade, offered "summer recreation" about which I have extremely fond memories. Today it would be called a day camp. The school and grounds (there was only one building for both elementary and high school) were open for crafts, sports and games. We played volley ball and bat mitten in the gym, and soft ball and running games outside. We made those necklaces and bracelets from colorful plastic coated strings, wood burning projects, weaving, and pottery. There were team sports, but summers were pretty hot, so I remember also sitting in a circle under a shade tree for quiet games. I think I only walked 2 blocks to get there, and spent most of the day with my friends. It was all supervised by adults and I don't remember them being at all intrusive or controlling--they just organized things and walked around with clip boards (in my memory). For the 1940s, I think it was a pretty progressive way for the town to look after the children (and we all had mothers in the home since few women were employed, so that wasn't the purpose).

Our house at the star, school at the square
But the absolute best event was rolling our swim suits in a towel, boarding the school bus at the school and driving the 30 miles to Sterling (singing the whole way) which had an outdoor pool. I couldn't swim but I loved splashing around and screaming. Then on the way back, when we were all famished and reeking of chlorine, the driver would stop at a road side ice cream stand and all the wet, bedraggled children would stream out of the bus and get in line for a Sugar Daddy or an ice cream bar. Since I never got these treats at home, I probably thought this was the best part of summer camp!

But we children also went to summer church camp at Camp Emmaus east of Mt. Morris, IL. In 1950, when it had only been open a few years, the costs were about $11 a week and I blogged about it two years ago. My older sisters must have attended as soon as it was opened. We had campfire, singing, vespers, Bible study, crafts, and great food. Not only was I a camper there, but I was also later a junior counselor and a junior cook. The camp looks very much the same today, and is managed by Bill Hare, who was a camper when I was. My brother was the camp manager when he was in his mid-20s.

From my scrapbook, 1950, with both my name and town incorrect
Camp Emmaus 1953, Sara and me (on left)

When I was in high school, maybe about 15 years old, I attended a School of Missions camp on Lake Geneva in Wisconsin with a few other girls from my community. It was interdenominational and more study oriented, although there were water sports. In the photo of our cabin I recognize me, my sister Carol (back row left), her friend Dottie (they were 2 years older), and my classmate Priscilla. We apparently brought dresses along to wear for church. That's me in the front with the hoop and white 2" heels (fun to wear on gravel streets). The other photo is Priscilla and me, dressed for typical camping activities.

My husband attended Boy Scout camp for several years when he was in elementary school. He doesn't remember its name (when he was little he thought his mother's name was "Mom" too), but knows it was near Indianapolis. His parents, always a bit ahead of the curve, bought a cabin in Brown County, Indiana, when he was about 14 years old, so from that point, the outdoor camping experience was to help with the Christmas trees and the family cabin.

This is getting a bit long, so I'll have to write about my childrens' camp experiences at another time.

Banner photography by Donald Kinney.

1. Ma2. Renee3. Lazy Daisy4. Lifecruiser
5. The Shrone6. Chelle7. Mrs. Cranky Pants8. Libragirl
9. YellowRose10. Ocean Lady11. novy

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Camp Emmaus
summer camp
Forreston, Illinois
Mt. Morris, Illinois

Monday Memories

Did I ever tell you about the end of my childhood?

My 11th birthday was in the fall of 1950. During the summer of 1950 the curtain was slowly coming down on my childhood, but I didn't know it until much later. In fact, I was reminded of it last week when our writing group prompt was the comic strip Agnes who is supposed to be about 11 years old, lives with her grandmother and is always pondering life's difficult questions.

It was my last summer to ride a bike with my brother on the country roads and catch tadpoles to take home; the last summer to swing from vines in the dense woods on the road west of town; the last summer to visit our friends who had moved to Baileyville where you could still get a nickel ice cream cone; it was the summer I rode in the livestock truck with Charlie and Raymond; it was the last summer I would walk to the town baseball field in the evenings, sit up on the score board and run around being silly; it was the last fall I would build leaf castles in our front yard with my friends JoElla and Nancy; the last time I would play with dolls.

I started 6th grade in Miss Michael's fifth/sixth grade class in Forreston, IL in September in a building with grades one through twelve. On Sundays we worshipped at a small Lutheran Church in Forreston, although we weren't members, and my sisters attended their confirmation classes. We all sang in the choirs and my oldest sister took organ lessons there. On Sunday afternoons we would all get in the 1950 Chevrolet sedan and drive either to Mt. Morris to see my father's parents, or to a farm near Franklin Grove to visit my mother's parents. My parents would visit with my aunts and uncles and grandparents while we cousins would either walk to the Lamb Theater in Mt. Morris to see a B cowboy movie, or down the country lane into Franklin Grove.

In March 1951 my family moved back to Mt. Morris from which we had moved in 1946, and I finished 6th grade in a different school with a new teacher, new friends and a different church (where I had been baptized). I learned new slang, how to cope with cliques, and discovered the girls were gossiping about things I’d never heard of.

I'm in the front row right in this sixth grade class photo. I have a rather grown-up hair style and two piece dress and was probably close to my adult height and weight. There would still be time for child-like activities, but those times would be less and less Looking back, I think childhood was over during my 12th year, and like Agnes, I did start seeing things differently.

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Renee, Jen, Emma, Barbara, Libra, Amy, Bec, Joan, Purple Kangaroo,

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Mount Morris, Illinois
Forreston, Illinois
childhood

Monday Memories

Did I ever tell you that my Dad played football against the Gipper?
Not really, he played against Ronald Reagan, 40th President of the United States, who played George Gipp in the movie "Knute Rockne, All American." Win one for the Gipper became part of our language and Reagan used it also in politics. In addition to politics, President Reagan's career included lifeguard, broadcaster, movies and television, and motivational speaking, but during college he really did play football.

Reagan's boyhood home in Dixon, Illinois on the Rock River and my Dad's home in Pine Creek were just a few miles apart but in different counties. However, Dutch and Cub met through a mutual acquaintance when they were still in their teens. Dad was a poor farm boy about 16 and a senior in high school at Polo, IL. Reagan, who was two years older, was already attending Eureka College. A neighboring farmer thought Dad had potential because he'd seen how industrious he was (water boy for thrashers, selling cans of salve he'd ordered from a magazine advertisement, laboring in the fields with his farmer father). The neighbor knew the Reagan family from The Christian Church, so he arranged for Dad to meet Ron, thinking he might interest him in attending Eureka. Dad also had an offer of a small scholarship from the Polo Women's Club to attend the University of Illinois. I'm not sure what happened (a blind date with my mother, I think), but Dad ended up at Mt. Morris College with some financial help to play football.

Mt. Morris College slaughtered Eureka on November 15, 1930, 21 to zip, a story Dad enjoyed retelling when Reagan became famous (although Dad was a Republican, I sensed that he was not crazy about Reagan). To my knowledge, there are no photos of Dad and Reagan butting heads or tackling each other, but I like to think they are somewhere in the jumble of arms and legs in this photo with farm buildings in the background. Say, is that my mother over there on the sidelines, cheering on the team?



My mother was an excellent student who really wanted an education--both of her parents had also attended Mt. Morris College in the 1890s. Dad was smart, but I suspect he was there to have a good time and play football. There was a disastrous fire on Easter Sunday 1931 when most of the students were home on holiday. Although the college reopened for the 1931-32 school year, my mother's family couldn't afford the tuition so she went to work in Chicago as a domestic. Dad returned to school with a football scholarship--at least in the fall. In the 1931 final game with Eureka College, the score was 0-0. The college yearbook says Dad didn't play the last four games due to a heart problem.

President Reagan visited his alma mater often, 12 times between 1941 and 1992. Eureka College is still educating young people, but Mt. Morris College closed after almost 100 years when the class of 1932 graduated. Except for his time in the Marines during WWII, Dad lived in Mt. Morris the rest of his life.

Dad, 1930, 17 years old
---------------
Lazy Daisy,
Barbara,
Yellow Rose,
Katherine,
Libragirl,
Kdubs
Shelli
Kimmy

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Mt. Morris College
Eureka College
Ronald Reagan