Category: A Day to Remember

I realize it’s not Thanksgiving Day…yet. I know it’s not just about the turkey…although it certainly plays a very important part in the festivities. Something that reclines in the center of your table, probably would. But this special time has been on my mind.

We all have our earliest and favorite memories of Thanksgiving Day. Each year adds another one, until we have an album of sorts to thumb through and cherish.

My earliest memory was when I was in first grade at Spangler Elementary School in Longmont, Colorado. Our class was having a re-enactment of the first Thanksgiving Day. (I thought that was pretty good and special at the time since I was fairly certain  none of us had been there!) We were to wear long dresses and tall, black hats…large white collars. We could dress as Indians if we wanted to. You know, just like the pictures we had been studying in our history book.

My mother stayed up the night before this big day and made me a long, calico skirt to wear. I absolutely loved that skirt and wore it until I was a teenager and it hit at about the knees. I remember getting up the morning of the celebration at school and hoping I had a skirt to wear. And there it laid, across the back of my mother’s rocking chair in its calico glory, yellow zig-zag trim adorning the flounce. I thought it the most beautiful piece of clothing I had ever owned! I wore it proudly to school, a white blouse complimenting my ‘costume’.

Of course most of the boys dressed as Indians. They had feathers in their hair and stripes on their cheeks. I don’t recall any tall, black hats or white collars. I think even at the age of six or seven we knew this was not cool back in 1970-1971. We all looked magnificent in our Thanksgiving Day Celebration glory.

All our mothers were to make a Thanksgiving dish to share. I don’t remember what my own mother made. I was still enthralled with the skirt! We all gathered on the white-tiled floor of our new school classroom, sitting on a large quilt. We then had our Thanksgiving feast and talked about what we had learned. I do remember praying for our meal as well because we were to be, well…thankful.

Of course many, many Thanksgivings have occurred over the years since that one. I always remember a gathering of family and sometimes friends. My mother was a fantastic meal planner and we always had way, too much great-tasting food. For a few years we had a wood cook stove in our kitchen and that prepared the turkey to perfection…you just couldn’t stand to be in the kitchen!

One of our years in Crown Point, New York brought a huge snowstorm for Thanksgiving. It was just beautiful and my father got some wonderful pictures of our house at that time for our Christmas cards. In later years, I always thought it pretty special that my future husband was in Schroon Lake that same year.

Our years in Arizona don’t really bring special Thanksgiving memories. I must admit, I had a hard time with the holiday season there. I always wanted the ‘Norman Rockwell’ atmosphere. Arizona is beautiful in its own way…but there are not a lot of deciduous trees and white picket fences. It did snow where we lived at the base of the Catalina Mountains, but seriously…it was just not the same!

My marriage and each additional child added more memories to gather in my mind and bore children and grandchildren with in future years. The cycle will continue this Thursday, Thanksgiving 2015.

What are your special memories of this day? What people and places come to mind? We all have a kaleidoscope to share. For us here in America, let’s remember to be thankful for those first settlers that came. For ALL that gathered together and shared the meal. Remember the freedoms we still have, the people that have fought for them over the centuries. Be thankful for family and friends that make this life more enjoyable and share our burdens so that our load is lighter. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

Wow! ‘What a difference a day makes’! Remember that old saying? I’m going to call it ‘old’ because I remember a song by the same title and it was around before I was! It was sung by Dinah Washington. You can listen to this great song right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmBxVfQTuvI

For those of you that are a little younger than I, you may prefer this version by Amy Winehouse: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_MllRG5aBU

Or…if you would love to hear a little girl with a VERY big voice, check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSfgCIGd7k4 I absolutely love her long hair!

I love that the last two versions use the original arrangement that Dinah Washington sung. It’s also fantastic to see some younger people singing the ‘oldies but goodies’! Thank you to those that posted the above on YouTube so that I could share them on here.

Yesterday, I was finally able to have the printed version of my book on CreateSpace. That was wonderful enough. But later that night, my oldest daughter was here helping with editing, technical ‘stuff’ again and she checked Amazon. There it was! Now this was especially exciting because CreateSpace had said yesterday that it wouldn’t be available through Amazon for 3-5 business days. There it was! So many people have asked if it would be available at Amazon because it is just easier to purchase through them. It was just amazing to see my book on the Amazon page!!! You may purchase the e-version and the printed version through links on here as well as my Facebook page.

I had a wild, crazy, and exciting ride yesterday in the publishing journey. I woke up this morning to a drippy, overcast sky…usually a little depressing for me. I crave sunlight and occasionally like a cloudy day. But then I remembered that song, which isn’t talking about publishing or the weather. It did seem to fit my thoughts for the day. ‘What a Difference a Day Makes’…I pray your day makes a difference in someone’s life.

Change. If you’ve been reading my posts lately, you know there is a theme going on here. Not planned, my writing rarely is. That probably shows on many levels to some people! For me, writing is a way to express myself, a time to reach within and bring out those thoughts, emotions and ideas I’m not always great at expressing. My writing is usually about what is going on in my life at a given time.

So, back to change. Maybe it’s the fall colors beginning to dance in the Kansas wind. Perhaps the cool breeze lifting the bedroom curtain each night. A recent wedding and an announcement of a new grandchild greeting the world this coming April. All the above are changes in my life, and changes cause me to reflect on what once was. Maybe it’s my OCD, but I go back to the beginning and set everything in tidy order. It gives me a chance to remember, to make adjustments in my way of viewing certain circumstances that have occurred. Hopefully I’ve matured along the way and the conclusions I come to now…sometimes years later, are more thought out, less congested with emotion…and much more appreciated.

So this morning, I’m remembering my siblings. I’m thinking back on what once was. Most of us have siblings. Most of us don’t appreciate them at the time…the years when we are growing to adulthood. But whether we want to accept it or not, those years shape us to a certain extent. We can grow older, move away, take different roads in our lives…but those years together are still there. Some could take this in a negative way if those growing up years were not the best, but I choose to remember mine with fondness. No, they were not perfect, but I venture to say most of us probably didn’t have perfection. That is not what matters…you had a relationship. This post is dedicated to my siblings, all younger than me since I was the oldest. (A little math for your early morning!)

Growing up, I was thankful, (yes, even at the time) for my siblings. My father worked for IBM and we moved a bit. During my teenage years, this was more frequent and for me, my home base was my safe zone. I could go home after a day at school, trying to adjust to all the new faces and classes and find comfort in the familiarity of my family and my surroundings. With all the moves, my mother was excellent at setting up a house and making it homey. It was my refuge. My siblings were always there, a sure thing in an upside down world. When I didn’t have friends at school or in the neighborhood because we were ‘new’, I could always play, talk and be with my siblings. Even if it was the same-old bickering about silly little things, it was MY family.

The memories for me come in bits and pieces. A certain smell in the air, a laugh or a mannerism our daughters share that is so like my sister. Flowers make me think of my brother, Kreston and his artistic talents in so many areas. Curly hair always reminds me of my sister, Jennifer and the blonde curls springing from her head when she was a child. And it makes me smile. My youngest brother, Todd…where there is a will, there is a way and he ALWAYS found a way! Fair time brings to mind all those August days in upstate New York. I was pretty much doing my own thing and then married by the time my family was showing horses, but I remember those days well. All the holidays we shared, the games we played on those days and the great food…especially a certain pie my brother ‘enjoyed’ all on his own!

These are times and relationships that have helped to shape me into what I am today. And even though my siblings may never see this post, I pray they know and understand what they mean to me…the part they have played in my life. I wish all of you happy memories to take out and savor. I pray these memories for my own children and caution them to protect their relationship among the five of them. You may move, develop different opinions, but the relationship and the closeness you once had can be cherished. And if possible, it can continue.

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Weddings and the day a baby is born are beautiful experiences for me and I’m sure many others as well.

Our third daughter married a wonderful young man on September 19th. And it was a beautiful day. Not just the perfect weather, which was a blessing, but the blending of two families as this young couple begin their own life together. The above picture is with the parents of the bride and groom. The video you can link to below is from the photographer and friend of the bride and groom. I’m sure you would agree that she did a fantastic job. So, a tribute to our third daughter and her new husband, our third son-in-law. May God bless you with many, many wonderful and joyous years together. With much love…

http://www.alannasingerphotography.com/#!alyssa-and-mitchel/if5xn

Well, it has finally happened. Tonight, on my way home from work, I was pulled over by a policeman for speeding. This has certainly been an area of pride for me…never having been stopped  for anything in 35 years of driving. That doesn’t mean I haven’t deserved it in all those years, just never been caught.

I was in an area that I am usually very careful in. I was thinking of other things as we all do when we drive. I happened to glance down and saw I was going a little more than I should be, you know how it creeps up on you? Just as I did that, I saw the black and white SUV, sandwiched between two other cars. I glanced at my speed again and corrected it, not really thinking of it again until I heard the siren. My first thought was how I was going to pull over for the emergency vehicle on the rather unsafe road. Then I saw the lights of the same SUV. I knew it had finally happened.

I slowed down and pulled over as soon as I could, and pushed the ‘down’ button for my window. A very nice man cautiously approached my vehicle and I gave him a smile. When he said I had been going a little fast, I nodded and admitted that I had. Then he said he would need to see my license and proof of insurance. That was the bad part.

My husband has told me over and over that I shouldn’t put my purse in the trunk in case I get pulled over. He said my license needed to stay with me. What does he know? He only holds a CDL and has driven a few hundred thousand miles in his career. So, I politely told the policeman, (with a smile of course) that my purse was in the trunk. He said I could step out and get it and then he moved away from my car. I told him he could get it if he wanted to. I think of that now and shake my head. Every blonde hair on my head is standing at attention. But all I could think of was that you are not to get out of your car when stopped. He told me it was fine and he followed me to the trunk while I explained, very politely of course, that my husband had warned me to not put it there. The policeman said it was probably the safest place after all.

I went back to my car and found my insurance and registration while the policeman looked up my information. Probably pretty boring!  I talked with my eleven year old and explained why I had been stopped. When he cautiously approached my vehicle again, he gave me my license and said he was giving me a warning to slow down and drive safely and told me to have a good day. I wished him the same.

This 50th year for me has been a difficult one. I wouldn’t want to live it again. So many changes, so many hard times. Now I can add my first ‘being pulled over by a policeman’ to the list! Someday I will look back on the year and see the growth in my life and the need for the things that have happened. Right now, I just feel buried.

All that said…I thought I would be in a panic when I was pulled over. Probably cry out of sheer terror, not trying to save myself from a ticket as I’ve heard women admit to. But I was strangely calm, panic free and just waiting to see what was in store. Thank you God, for your peace!

What stands out in my mind from this newest experience is the job these men and women do on a daily basis. That is why I wanted to write and share this post. As the policeman approached my car, he was cautious, almost hesitant and I felt badly for that. I would not want to be that person walking up to the vehicle. You would not know what to expect. Today, it was an older woman caught daydreaming. Tomorrow it could be a criminal or someone on drugs that pulls out a gun. We live in a scary, angry world.

I have two son-in-laws that happen to be brothers that would like to be policeman. I keep telling them they are crazy. But I also admire them and those that do have this job. It needs to be done and it needs to be done with honor and integrity on their part, respect on ours. So, this is a big thank you to all those out there doing this job everyday. And a ‘thank you’ to the one that stopped me tonight and reminded me very nicely of what my responsibility was. I pray you have a good day also.

View my book here:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/574005

Thank you to Julia Ryan for the beautiful cover and to my daughter Britta Ann for all her help with the technical stuff.  I’m excited to start this new journey in my life and would like you to share it with me.

So many wars, so many lives given, so many families with absent members. Let us not forget our freedom fought for at great expense. Pray for our soldiers, their families…the ones on the front lines still fighting for America and what it stands for. Remember our country, the leaders past and present that have made our nation great. Remember what our foundation is, what we stand for and most of all…remember that God IS in control. Have a happy, safe Independence Day!

Today is Memorial Day…the unofficial start to summer, picnics by the lake, grilling hamburgers and hotdogs in your backyard…the unofficial start to summer?

Remember Memorial Day…when ALL small towns had a parade, veterans marching in their uniforms, small children waving the American Flag? High school bands marched proudly, playing patriotic tunes. Remember Memorial Day?

Remember the Civil War, Flanders (October, 1914), Omaha Beach (June 6, 1944), Vietnam, Iraq (Gulf War) and the continuing battles of today. Remember the men that fought in those battles, some giving their lives for us and our freedom, so many living with the memories of those battles. That is what today is for, remembering those that have died.

PLEASE remember Memorial Day. Fly your American Flag proudly, teach your small children the significance of today. Watch a parade if you can, wear a red Poppy. If you see any of our armed forces on the street, thank them for their service…and REMEMBER.

Remember the days when your telephone rang and you went to a certain location in your HOME and answered it? You stood by the base in your kitchen or sat down in a comfy chair, (because you placed your telephone by a comfy chair) because you were attached to the base of your phone? How about typing? You hit the keys with force on those old typewriters…typing a letter was a workout and really did a number on your nails. There wasn’t an ‘enter’ key on those old machines. Or a ‘delete’ key. You kept bottles of white stuff around for the eventual mistake.

There are times when I really miss those days. I’ve never claimed to be any kind of a ‘tech’ person. Don’t even know or understand the lingo. But I think of myself as fairly able to get around a computer or set up a new phone, etc. Until hours like this morning. Yes hours. Hours of trying to figure out how to work this site. About the time I think I have it down, I lose something and I can’t remember how to get it back again. I guess I will have to ask my 10 year old what to do. Children today seem to be born with the ‘tech’ gene. Their little fingers know how to type and they can abbreviate before they turn a year old. I thought it was kind of neat when other kids my age spoke pig Latin when I was a child. I could say my name. Children today have a whole other language that you have to decode to have a conversation with them. If you don’t have Facebook, Twitter, etc. you can even forget the conversation!

Yes, I do miss the slower, less complicated days of technology. But I do appreciate my laptop and my cell phone in case I need it for an emergency. If I text you, you will know how much effort went into that message. So, please bear with me as I learn to use this site. Strange things may show up and you may try to ‘click’ on something and find nothing. Just give me a few days…or hours. I’ll catch up…eventually.

Like every good girl of thirty plus years ago, I took Home Economics in school. I LOVED to bake and I thought baking at school would be great. I could ace that class with no problem. The difficult part was the weeks I had to learn to SEW! That word put fear in my heart as a teenager. It was the only class that I came close to flunking. I set the waistband on my corduroy skirt so many times I could have done it in my sleep and it STILL wasn’t right. It was an exasperating, frustrating few weeks. The humiliating part was having to ‘model’ our projects before the class. My skirt and blouse turned out alright…nothing to brag about. I don’t recall ever wearing them again.

So, while pregnant with our oldest, I decided to try sewing again…and just loved it. I made a crib set with dust ruffle, curtains and blanket to match. Sewed tiny little flannel nightgowns and matching blankets. I was on a roll. For years I made all my dresses and maternity clothes. I’m tall and that was a huge benefit for me.

Then I was at Wal-Mart on my weekly shopping trip and I found the Civil War era patterns. I was in 7th heaven! That was my favorite time period in history. I’ve read Gone With the Wind too many times to count. The movie was fantastic. (My husband has other words to say on that one.) So, I purchased several patterns of course. I could not pass that up.

Another item for my bucket list was to go to a ball. A real ball with musicians, ball gowns with hoops, white gloves, and everything to go with it. So, my daughter found the fabric for her gown and I proceeded to make an authentic ball gown from the Civil War era and then I made mine. I sewed authentic under clothing as well. We purchased hoop skirts and corsets, stockings, garters and slippers. We also had the white gloves and fans that a proper lady would have worn to a ball. I also made vests for my husband and son and they were quite dashing in their dark suits.

After much research and several months of sewing, I must say, we looked great the evening of the ball. We had all learned some of the dances of the day and we had a wonderful time. Our second oldest was truly the ‘Belle of the Ball’ in her yellow and mint green striped gown. For me, it was an evening to be remembered. I was a small part of that era for a few short  hours and it was magical. I wish the pictures were more clear, but you get the idea.