stories, photographs, adventures…the next chapter
Cee’s Challenge topic this week is Bicycles, Tricycles, Motorcycles, Wagons
My first 2 wheel bicycle was a pink Schwinn.
Zooming down our neighborhood street – with my sister in hot pursuit on her tricycle – was a common occurrence.
As the older sister, I was honor bound to win the race…training wheels and all.
This post inspired by One Word Sunday
One warm summer day
My grandmother and her mother
Posed on a park bench
Complete with handbags, hats and gloves.
Ankles carefully crossed.
I bet my grandfather said “smile”
Before he snapped the photo.
Nancy Merrill is hosting a photo challenge. The theme this week: A Photo a Week Challenge – New
2016 was special for many reasons…
New home. New friends. New life in a new town.
But the most important “new” that year was the birth of our grandson in June.
He is the bright light in our family’s future.
When he was a newborn, he held still for my incessant picture taking.
(now, at 2 ½, not so still…)
Nancy Merrill is hosting a photo challenge. The theme this week:
A Photo a Week Challenge – Eyes
IN A NEW POST CREATED FOR THIS CHALLENGE, SHARE A PHOTO OR TWO OF SOME OF THE EYES IN YOUR LIFE.
My daughter was born with the bluest of eyes…which opened and stared into mine within minutes of her arrival. Her curiosity for life already beginning.
Those eyes…she would hold your gaze – even as an infant – without changing expression, as if seriously contemplating the words to follow. Before she knew how to say a thing.
Her right eyebrow arching ever so slightly…posing a silent question we couldn’t possibly know the answer to…
Santa Claus appeared at many different venues when I was a child in the ’50’s and ’60’s. Sitting on some type of chair or throne-like chair – and dressed in his signature red suit and hat, he would wait for children. To sit on his lap. Briefly. For a quick question and answer, smile for the camera..and done! Then a parent would wait in line for the polaroid result of this annual pilgrimage.
I couldn’t wait to meet up with him…(or one of his elves subbing in – the explanation for why there was also a Santa on the street…and in the local Bamberger’s or Sterns department store at a “Breakfast with Santa” event on Saturday mornings)…in order to pass on my requests for presents.
I visited the pre-mall Santas – often appearing at local church fairs…or church “bazaars” as we used to call them. These were simple affairs…handmade mittens, cookies, potholders and such made by the church ladies. In the corner sat Santa – waiting for the local kids to sit on his lap and whisper their wishes for Christmas morning. Santa looked eerily similar to men I would see at church on Sunday talking to my parents, but I never questioned why.
I do not remember what I asked for the year this black & white photo was taken…but Santa looks like he had heard most everything by the time it was our turn.
Almost thirty years later, my daughter sat on Santa’s lap at our local mall. And whispered her hopes for gifts on the 25th. Again there was the wait in line for the polaroid result.
~~~
Pictures with Santa in 2018?
Still at a mall. There is a long wait circling around extending past the stores. Babies, toddlers and elementary school age kids. Some dressed up. Some kids panic at the sight of this large man in the red suit. Other don’t…sitting quietly, not quite understanding all the activity. But still, whispering…something…to Santa. Look towards the camera. Hopefully, smile.
There is no longer a wait for the polaroid print. Now it is air-dropped to your smart phone. For a fee of course.
“Pictures with Santa” has changed in many ways in the past 50 plus years. As one might expect. All things do.
Santa sits on a fancier throne. I don’t see him at the church fairs.
Photos are digital and float through the air.
But the excitement in a toddler’s eyes…
I saw Santa, Mama! I sat on his lap!
The smiles. The jumping up and down…
THAT has not changed at all.
This post inspired by Ragtag Daily Prompt: Play
Playing music was always front and center in our home.
Whether it be playing a record, a tape or, as years went by, a CD.
But the best playing happened in person.
At the end of one oppressively hot September day in 1988, we huddled around our only air conditioner for an impromptu concert. After a long day of yard work.
The 6 year old playing my old guitar from childhood.
The 10 month old plucking strings on his daddy’s guitar.
And the daddy playing, singing and offering advice on note fingering.
Keeping cool…
This trio played together many times over the years.
Guitar. Flute. Recorder. Clarinet.
Such fun.
Here is my entry for this week’s challenge hosted by Frank at Dutch goes the Photo
This was definitely a challenge.
Just choosing one photo. Out of a zillion (well maybe not a zillion, but close)
So many wonderful memories of the last few decades.
When I stumbled upon this photo in my search, I remembered Frank’s suggestion: don’t hesitate to go for the whimsical.
Father’s Day 2008
My two adult children made it a point to be home to celebrate with their father. As they always did – and still do – they let the silliness of childhood surface. My son had recently found this road sign while at his local summer job.
I have no idea why he kept it, except that it became a handy prop. For a photo taken while waiting for the steaks to grill. Creative minds at work…when Mom wanted another photo of the two of them.
Another example of the joyful, silly, irreverent atmosphere that permeated their childhood. And our life together as a family of four.
And their close relationship – even at almost 6 years apart.
A day – if you’re fortunate – set aside for family.
For gratitude. For sharing a meal.
Usually a massive meal – in our house it was based around turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, some kind of vegetable. Rolls or banana bread. Every year the “fixins” changed somewhat.
The most important part: many pies. The dinner was basically a stop on the way to pumpkin…apple…cherry pies.
And my personal favorite…playing cards while eating dessert: aka pie.
Dinner was also all about the conversation and stories we shared. So much time and opportunity for prolonged discussion when you are passing endless bowls of food around. Pouring wine. Pouring water. Carving more turkey. I just never knew what subjects would come up; but many became classics.
Such as…
In 1990, my husband and I hosted our first Thanksgiving.
I had never cooked a whole turkey before. An overwhelming task. I had heard horror stories about overcooked turkeys and dried out white meat. That would never happen to me…I’ll cover it! That should do it.
My parents and my in-laws were coming – to join me, my husband and our 2 kids.
I dusted off the big blue covered roaster pan my mother had passed down to me. Coated the fresh turkey with spices and some oil. Tied the legs together.
I put the cover on. It went into the oven. I set the timer. And let it cook. And cook. Many hours later – when, according to the recipe it would be done, I removed it from the oven. Look it’s ready! With great fanfare, I lifted the lid…Oh No!
It looked like a turkey snow angel! All the turkey meat had slid off the bones. We had turkey stew! There was nothing to carve. Legs askew. Wings fallen off. My mother was horrified. I laughed. And laughed.
It still tasted great…and…the white meat was NOT dry!
The following year:
Twelve family members gathered at the dining room table to enjoy our Thanksgiving feast – including my parents, my husband’s parents, my grandmother, my sister and her family.
He began describing his job at the First National grocery store in the 1930’s. When he helped get the turkeys ready to be sold for Thanksgiving. The turkey carcasses were brought to the store and his job was to pull the tendons out of the legs. Apparently, this made the turkey legs easier to eat. He went into graphic detail. Right in front of everyone. Who put their forks down and stared at him…as he explained this was probably not done anymore. Those pesky tendons still attached.
GROSS! we protested.
Shocked faces…especially those with turkey legs eaten or half eaten on their plates. There may have been some gagging. My big city brother-in-law’s face turned white. He got up and left the room…
Empty nest Thanksgivings…
left more time for documenting…
But traditions remained the same.
Here is my entry for this week’s challenge hosted by Dutch goes the Photo
The theme this week is “Trio.”
My children’s paternal grandparents were always willing to play with their grandchildren – no matter what the game was. It could be as simple as reading a book, playing cards or tossing a ball. Even planting seeds in their huge backyard garden.
One Christmas – 1994 – they even joined in, sunglasses and all, when their grandson tried out his new “saxophone.”
As I recall, they sang along.
one letter UP ~ diary 2.0 