Fandango’s Flashback Friday: April 2

April 2, 2021 ~ oneletterup ~ 14 Comments

Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of your earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year. How about you? Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year?

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This post was published April 2, 2019 as an entry for the Photo a Day Challenge. Flashing back to happy times remembered in this post (when birthday parties were…normal) appealed to me more than flashing back to a 2020 pandemic post. This blog began as the keeper of memories….and today I revisit some funny ones.

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Funny Faces

This post inspired by April photo a day challenge

Today’s prompt: Funny

When my kids were growing up, they had a birthday party every year they wanted one.

Several actually. One with family. One with friends. Sometimes a celebration at pre-school as well.

Why not? Another year. Another milestone or two.
Time for cake. Presents. Games.
Fun with friends.

One tradition…a group photo.
Squirmy party guests lined up on the couch.

The first take: Smile Say Cheese!

The second: Make A Funny Face! Make A Silly Face!

Always the favorite.

Little children making funny faces never disappoint.

Fandango’s Friday Flashback: June 26

June 26, 2020 ~ oneletterup ~ 12 Comments

Inspired by Fandango’s Friday Flashback: June 26

Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of your earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year….Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year?

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This post was originally published on June 26, 2018. I am thrilled that this week’s flashback challenge coincides with the post I wrote in memory of my maternal grandfather.

Opa was a constant loving presence in my life…especially during childhood…and, as I remember it, always my biggest fan.

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Happy Birthday Opa

Beefeater’s martini straight up. No ice. Lemon peel on the side – if I wanted lemonade I would have ordered it.

That’s how Opa ordered his drink – the first order in the first round of drinks – when he took our family out to dinner when I was growing up. It sounds kind of rude, but I would imagine if time after time he got the lemon peel in the drink…well, he ran out of patience. I would wait with great curiosity to see what the waiter or waitress would bring. The fancy stemmed glass filled with a clear liquid served on a small plate…where a few slices of lemon peel hopefully (!) would rest. I don’t remember where the olive was supposed to go. Worst case scenario: a glass filled with ice AND lemon peel AND the gin. High drama for us kids.

Next up was ordering off the menu. We could all order what we wanted. No children’s menu. I always felt so grown up learning the fine art of “find out what goes with the dinner.”

Split and toasted!

When the inevitable basket of dinner rolls arrived to keep us fed while waiting for the meals to arrive, Opa would send it back to the kitchen. Please have these rolls split and toasted! And they did and they were amazing and warm and crunchy with butter melting all over.

The bunny!

While we crunched on warm, toasty rolls, Opa made magic happen with his white cloth napkin. He turned, napkin hidden, to the side – carefully rolled, then twisted the cloth and…turned back to face us. And there in the crook of his left arm was a napkin “bunny” – that kept “hopping” up his arm as he patted it with his right hand. All the while he would be talking to it and to us. We’d stare and stare. Wow. That’s entertainment.

The bra!

As we got a bit older, the bunny didn’t capture our attention like Opa’s napkin bra could. He’d quick fold up his napkin, pull the corners and briefly hold it up in front of his tie and pressed suit jacket. Ta Da! Opa had a bra! Hysterical and ridiculous every time. This napkin trick embarrassed my mother immensely but thoroughly entertained his grandchildren. How did he do this? Simple (but I didn’t figure it out for a long time):

Fold napkin so that the 2 sides meet in the middle.
Fold the opposite way so the open edges are on the outside.
Grab left corners with left hand and right corners with right hand and pull.

Sparklers!

When it was someone’s birthday, there was a cake brought out to the birthday girl or boy. A cake with a lit sparkler! The cake could be seen from across the dining room shooting sparks into the air. As it was set before you everybody sang Happy Birthday to You, You Belong in a Zoo….

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I am honoring my Opa’s memory on June 26th – what would have been his 112th birthday – by sharing his restaurant tricks & talents. Valuable hints for grandparents everywhere. How to continue embarrassing your children and endearing you to your grandchildren forever.

Happy Birthday Opa!

opa&me

Three

June 9, 2019May 26, 2020 ~ oneletterup ~ 8 Comments

balloons

When you turn three, maybe you can count that high.

With your fingers. Grapes on your plate. Cheerios. Green beans.

My grandson turned 3 today. I was lucky enough to travel to Washington, DC to spend the weekend with him, his parents and his dog.

And attend…two parties.
One with his friends yesterday.
One with family today.

Whew!

Two days filled with doing his favorite things…

Climbing. Running. Jumping. Giggling. Singing. Eating. Walking. Talking. Baseball. Basketball. Shouting…

Grandma Come!

Backhoes. Dump Trucks. Front Loaders. Construction Cones…everywhere!

Birthday morning visit to the National Zoo. Lions…no tigers or bears…but monkeys, alpacas, an orangutang, cows, goats, donkeys, elephants and a gorilla family…oh my.

zoo

Afternoon with family from near and far. Sharing a small boy’s celebration of a third year of living life. Joyfully. Playfully. With energy to spare.

Blue eyes full of fun, love and mischief. Hints of his mother long ago, but mostly just uniquely him.

birthday 9th

Grampa and I fly home tomorrow.

We will look through the hundreds of photos we took.

Smile.

And sleep.

Flower of the Day – Birthdays & Roses

May 10, 2019 ~ oneletterup ~ 11 Comments

I don’t believe in ageing. I believe in forever altering one’s aspect to the sun.

Virginia Woolf

My contribution to Cee’s Flower of the Day Challenge today is a personal one.

These photos are from the collection: “Favorite Flowers of My Day”…

A gift from my son 7 years ago….

They arrived fresh, bright and glorious in color.

birthday roses 2012

Snug in a vase.

Petals delicately layered…

…a sweet long distance Happy Birthday.

May photo a day challenge – Layered

Confusion

April 14, 2019 ~ oneletterup ~ 10 Comments

This post inspired by One Word Sunday

birthday pointy hats copy

Throughout the ages…

Birthday parties for 5 year olds.

Pointy hats, drinks and treats.

Excitement…tinged with more than a bit of chaos.

Happy Birthday Papa

March 9, 2019 ~ oneletterup ~ 12 Comments

Chopsticks!

Papa showed me how to play the classic simple song. A waltz actually. On his piano.
Sitting right beside me. Just the 2 of us.
At his big old house in Cincinnati, Ohio. One warm day in the 1960’s during a rare family visit.
I was only 8 years old. I wish it had been the first of many lessons.

Papa, my paternal grandfather, was born March 9, 1886 in Chicago, Illinois. The middle child of five. I don’t know much about his early life except he met Grammy when passing through her small rural Tennessee town. He often traveled by train from Cincinnati, working as a lumber inspector for his brother’s company. He rented a room in my grandmother’s childhood home during stops in Graysville. He eventually won her over…and that was that!

Papa and Grammy married and raised my father and his older sister in Cincinnati, where Papa owned and operated a lumber company. No small feat for a man with only an 8th grade education.

I probably saw Papa maybe a dozen times before he died unexpectedly at the age of 78. Cincinnati was very far away from where I lived on the east coast. Visits did not happen often. The last one was a whirlwind car trip a few weeks before he died.

What do I remember about Papa?

He was a short quiet man with kind brown eyes. Papa loved to put on his cap and go for long walks. Sometimes he asked me – just me! – to join him. During one of those walks, he stopped, plucked a wide blade of grass from a nearby patch and carefully positioned it between the sides of his thumbs. He pressed his thumbs together…held them up to his mouth, took a deep breath, puffed out his cheeks…and blew out…. It whistled!
Was this magic?
He then plucked one for me. And waited calmly until I was able to make it whistle all by myself.
I’m (obviously) still impressed all these years later.

I learned how to play chopsticks on the piano during one long…patient…lesson with him. Later, in their sunny kitchen, we’d sit across from each other by the window and play double solitaire. Or a new card game he taught me called 7Up. At the metal table with the shiny sides and checkered formica top.

Sadly our connection was short lived, but fortunately he left his loving stamp on my memory…and my heart.

papa letter004 copy

Happy Birthday Papa!

[ps…Papa would be thrilled to know…that coincidentally…his middle name is the same as his great great grandson’s first name…and…also coincidentally…they were both born on the 9th day of the month…]

Happy Birthday Oma

October 19, 2018 ~ oneletterup ~ 7 Comments

“Honey, I don’t care what anyone tells you – the golden years are shit for the birds!”

(My) Oma
circa 1992

Oma always told it like it was. To anyone who would listen.
One of the many things I loved about her. She got right to the point. No mind games.

And at the age of 86, that was her take on life, confined to a wheelchair in an assisted living facility near me. Her shoulders disintegrated. Knee replacements failing. Almost blind. Skin thin as tissue paper. Widowed. She was pissed. Understandably.

Omaformal2
Oma was my maternal grandmother.
Born and raised in Ohio.
Oldest of 2.
Self-proclaimed flapper.
Married at 22.
Mother of one.
Grandmother of 5.
Greatgrandmother of 6.
Lover of all things strawberry.
And Stouffer’s creamed chipped beef.
And “The Price is Right” & “Days of Our Lives”
And Andy Rooney’s segment on “60 Minutes.”
And…as I discovered…she loved yellow roses…just like I did.

When Oma was having a good day, she also liked to talk politics, gossip and reminisce about her childhood…

I played jacks and I loved to roller skate. Those were the only things I could do! Back in those days, the girls wore big bows in their hair. Boys and girls were in separate classrooms. Why, I remember visiting my cousins on their farm in Indiana. It was so much fun. It was a beautiful farm, too.

She would slip into the past and take me with her. I saw chickens and cows and the juicy pies set to cool on the kitchen windowsill. She spoke of her fireman father who developed crippling rheumatoid arthritis but doted on his little girl. He spoiled me, she said with a grin.

Omaflapper2

Oma only completed the 10^thgrade, quitting to work full time and bring in money for her family. She loved her job as a secretary at a music/piano store in Cincinnati. Customers came in to listen to the newest records in private listening rooms. She was thrilled to be a part of that.

But I remember her long before the “golden years” overtook her.
Her quick wit, her caring and love of family.
Her spirit.

Oct 1955 oma&a001
I spent weekends with Oma & Opa several times a year. My childhood getaways. Just me and them.

When Opa was at work, Oma and I went shopping – back before the days of big box stores and Walmart. We’d walk up and down the town’s main street. Every shopkeeper greeted her by name, the bells on the door signaling our arrival. We got fresh sliced ham for sandwiches and a thick steak at the butcher shop. Black & white cookies and warm rolls from the bakery. Opa’s shirts at the dry cleaners.

One day, on our drive home from shopping, we were waiting at a stop light next to a carload of teenage boys. The driver gunned his engine and laughed at us: the “old” woman and the kid. Well…when the light turned green that “old” woman floored it. We were off like a shot – her 8 cylinder blue Chrysler leaving those hot-rodders in the dust! I cheered! Wow!, I remember thinking, Wow.

It is still my favorite Oma story. This “old woman” was 60ish at the time.

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oma postcard038 copy

I know I was in her thoughts when she was on trips with Opa.
I still have a pile of postcards written just to me in her perfect handwriting…

And birthdays? She would bake each of her grandchildren a cake of his or her choosing. From scratch.
Her other specialties? Waffles made from Bisquick. Applesauce from scratch. Velveeta macaroni and cheese. Using the right brand was crucial.

The results were outstanding.

Upon moving to my first home, I asked for her famous macaroni and cheese recipe. She complied:

oma recipe039

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My Oma (or Ruth, as she was known to the rest of the world), would have been 112 years old today – October 19th.
I can just imagine her rolling her eyes at the very idea of living that long.

Happy Birthday Oma!

oma 1991040

Tuesday Photo Challenge – Birthday

October 10, 2018May 25, 2020 ~ oneletterup ~ 9 Comments

Here is my entry for this week’s challenge hosted by “Dutch goes the Photo.”

https://dutchgoesthephoto.net/2018/10/09/tuesday-photo-challenge-birthday/

The theme this week is “Birthday”

Birthdays are a big deal. No matter how old you are. If you are lucky, you have a party (if you want one). With friends. Family. Neighbors. There is usually cake lit up with candles (when you had a grandfather like mine, sparklers instead). Presents! Hats. Favors. Games of some kind. Pin the Tail on the Donkey when I was 5. A “Ouija Board” and levitation when I was 15.

My children always had a birthday party – sometimes more than one if you count “family party” and “friend party.” We did Pin the Tail on the Donkey a few times, but soon realized that was SO old fashioned. However, cake and candles never go out of style. Especially the trick candles…

And…speaking of trick candles…the following is one of my favorite party photos. My daughter’s 4th birthday.

birthday037 — My daughter’s 4th birthday

The photo below is from my 4th birthday party. Trying to set up the group shot. The pointy hats are an interesting coincidence.

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[For those interested… Birthday parties are such a fun topic…]

Happy Birthday Grammy

August 9, 2018 ~ oneletterup ~ 1 Comment

Johnny Eva.

My southern grandmother – who was born and raised in Tennessee – had a boy’s name first and a girl’s name second. But everyone called her Eva. Apparently this was customary at the time (1892) in USA southern states. She had a sister named Jimmy Ruth. Her brother’s name was Creed.

Johnny Eva was Grammy to me – my paternal grandmother. As a child, I was somewhat mystified by her. She had very long dark wavy hair – almost down to her waist. I’d sit and watch her comb it out, coil it up and then secure it with combs or clips. I never knew another older person with such long hair. Not one for makeup and frills, she wore sensible dresses and sensible shoes. We had that in common.

I only saw her sporadically when I was growing up because she lived in Ohio and we lived on the east coast. After my grandfather Papa died unexpectedly in 1964, Grammy would come and live with us for a month or 2 several times a year. She didn’t always have alot to say, but she’d look over your shoulder to see what you were doing and comment. (As I recall, this did not go over well with my mother!) An excellent seamstress, she repaired anything that needed mending…and sewed dress-up dresses for my sister and me. And fancy clothes for our baby dolls and Barbies.

She loved to watch The Lawrence Welk Show on TV and rarely missed it. Frugal to a fault sometimes, she would insist on buying day-old produce and bread when she went grocery shopping with my mother – even if the quality was poor. She was always generous with her family though; slipping me a few dollars when she thought I needed it. I never took advantage of this; but it was comforting to know that she “had my back” – and her help was always offered without judgement…an unspoken underlying connection between us.

I often wonder now if she had some undiscovered underlying medical issues. She would often disappear into her bedroom to “rest a spell” during the day. I also suspect she may have suffered a level of chronic depression that only worsened after Papa died. I often sensed a real melancholy about her.

When I told her I was pregnant with my son – our second child – her reaction was…”why? why bring another child into this terrible world?” Needless to say, that’s not the kind of congratulations I was expecting; but I was not altogether surprised and I wasn’t upset with her. Unfortunately she passed away the week after he was born, at the age of 95.

I had forgotten how much she kept in touch with me.

In my treasure trove of letters I have found dozens from her. I don’t think she went to school after the 8th grade, but her letters were full of detail & vivid descriptions. And, most importantly to my childhood self, full of genuine interest in and love for me.

She wrote the following letter 2 years after Papa died, when I was 12. It was near Thanksgiving. She was staying in her childhood home, where her sister was still living in Tennessee. Apparently with no heat.

grammy letter 1966 pg 1

grammy letter 1966 pg2 — From Grammy – age 74

It was expensive to make long distance phone calls when I was a child, so letter writing was the only way to stay in touch. And I am so grateful she did.

Growing up – and into her adulthood years – she loved to go fishing.

It’s August 9th…Happy Birthday Grammy!