Frankly, My Dear and Other Thankfuls

April is halfway over tomorrow. Already! It's been a busy bloggy month with the A to Z Challenge AND the TToT, but I'm still hanging in there (barely) with both. If April is the cruelest month, it's only because it's BUSY.

1. The eclipse was pretty cool, and I'm thankful we lived in an area where we got 95% coverage. It didn't get as dark as I expected it would, given the dire warnings on all the news sources, but it did look like it was about to storm at the peak of the eclipse.

2. I'm thankful for the timing of the eclipse (thanks, Sun and Moon, for coordinating that), because it was during nap time at school. We gave every worker who wished to experience it the time to go outside and take in the view, and we had plenty of glasses to share.

Nikki and I enjoying how nice our necks look with
our heads tipped up like this to view the eclipse

3. Eclipse glasses reminds me to be thankful for my husband for going on the search for them the week before the eclipse, so we weren't scrambling to find them or getting price gouged over them.

4. I'm thankful for my friend Nikki for SOOOO many reasons, but this week, it was for helping with what turned out to be practically nothing but that I had built up to gargantuan proportions.

5. I'm also thankful she is going to go with me to get our toes did this week (you reading this, Nikki? My chips have chips!).

6. I got the opportunity to see "Gone With The Wind" at the movie theater this week, and I convinced three of my co-workers to go with me. If you've only seen it on a tv, you have no idea how spectacular this movie is on the big screen! It was Nikki's first time to see it at all, and she was not a fan of Scarlett O'Hara. Turns out, two of us were and two of us were not. Do you know which one I am? By the way, if you want to read about the FIRST time I saw Gone With The Wind, you can read it right here.

As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again!

Roll film, we're ready!

7. My class can drive me NUTS, but then there are other times when they make my heart melt. This week, as we were transitioning from lunch and potty time to our cots for naps (chaotic at BEST), a couple of them started singing, then a few more chimed in, and before I knew it, the sweet sounds of their voices filled the room. I asked them if they would like to sing a few songs every day before we turn out the lights and hear our bedtime story, and they unanimously said yes. Their favorite songs? Itsy, Bitsy Spider, Down By The Station, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, Five Little Ducks. You know, typical children's songs. Oh, and the Mickey Mouse Club Theme Song. They have no idea what the Mickey Mouse Club was (and it was before my time, too, but I saw it in re-runs), but they LOVE it. So stinkin' cute!

8. My son and daughter in law celebrated their third wedding anniversary this week. I'm so thankful they found each other! 

9. My husband and I are in Kansas City this weekend to cat sit our grandcat Calvin while our daughter is out of town. We left our three cats home alone to come take care of the Little Prince. It was a good excuse to spend the weekend in KC and attend church in person, though, so we will come up and cat sit any time we can! 

10. Saturday, my husband and I spent the day going to thrift stores and looking for treasures, after a stop at Target for underpants because someone forgot to pack any and was NOT comfortable  going commando any longer than it took to go to the store, buy the underpants, and put them on in the women's bathroom.... We also had a fabulous Italian meal for lunch. KC friends - go to Nico & Ana's in Overland Park the first chance you get!

Baked rigatoni. Ahhh!

There is still plenty of time to join the Ten Things of Thankful blog hop. It doesn't end until midnight tonight! Let's go!

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

L is for Love and Lovies

 

I am in the process of sorting through everything in my parents' home, and in so doing, I have been looking through all my childhood memorabilia, the majority of which I hadn't seen since my parents packed up my belongings and moved them from the home I grew up in to this house some 45 years ago. My 2024 A to Z Challenge theme is based on the treasures I have found in the boxes and the drawers and closets. Join me on my bittersweet journey back to my childhood.

In "C is for Communication, 70s Style" I explained how my friends and I wrote and passed notes to each other at school. The notes always closed with "Love" or "Love ya" or something else of the sort, and that's where someone, somewhere, got creative and started closing notes with the overly cute "Love and Lollipops," which eventually was shortened to "Love and Lollies." My very good friend Jan and I frequently used the "Love and Lollies" closing on notes to each other.

Jan and I were in class together from 2nd grade all the way through college, and we are still friends. She was that person I could tell anything to, because she never judged. We lived two blocks from each other until my family moved to a new neighborhood after I finished 6th grade, but as we only moved a mile and a half away, it was pretty easy for me to hop on my bike and ride over to her house, where we would partake in one of our favorite things to do: ride together up to A&W and get root beer floats and french fries (the statute of limitations hasn't run yet on some of our other activities from when we were in high school and college, so those shall not be mentioned at this writing, if ever). 

One day while we were in high school, Jan was writing me a note during class. She sat next to a boy named Rick Lamar, and as she was writing, he was leaning over and reading what she wrote. When she got to the saccharine "Love and Lollies" closing, he said, "Love and LOVIES?!" What's THAT supposed to mean?  

"It doesn't say 'love and lovies'! It says 'love and LOLLIES," she explained, then she added a footnote to my note along the lines of "that moron thought it said 'Love and Lovies.'"

From that moment on, Jan and I signed all notes and other correspondence to each other by closing with "Love and Lovies" which then evolved to "Love and Rick Lamar" and finally to "Love and RL." 

Those notes were from maybe 1976.

These are Facebook posts from the past year:

I'm positive Rick has no idea the legacy he created when he was being nosy that day over 46 years ago, but we will never forget.

Me and Jan, college graduation, 1982

Out on the town, 2022

K is for Kamp

 

I am in the process of sorting through everything in my parents' home, and in so doing, I have been looking through all my childhood memorabilia, the majority of which I hadn't seen since my parents packed up my belongings and moved them from the home I grew up in to this house some 45 years ago. My 2024 A to Z Challenge theme is based on the treasures I have found in the boxes and the drawers and closets. Join me on my bittersweet journey back to my childhood.

We didn't have a lot of money when I was growing up, but in spite of that, every summer, we took one week a family vacation to Branson, Missouri. We stayed in a cabin at a fishing resort called Blue Haven, located on the shore of Lake Taneycomo. The original cabins were probably built in the 1940s and the newer ones in the late 1950s. There were about 30 one and two bedroom cabins, with 20 of them located on the lake. The floors were linoleum, the sofa beds were gray vinyl, and each cabin had a tiny kitchenette and a dining room table and a window air conditioner. The main attraction was a large, covered dock (they later added a second, smaller dock) for trout fishing, and on the other side of the cabins was a large pool with a diving board and slide; a second, smaller pool was added by the time I was in high school. I thought the place was magnificent, and I wished we could live there.

Photo of an old postcard from Blue Haven. The top photo 
is a view of the cabins from the pool; the bottom is the dock.
The back side of these cabins face the dock and are
obscured by the trees in this photo.

Many of Blue Haven's guests returned year after year at the same time and stayed in the same cabin each year, and many friendships were forged because of it. I met a girl named Mary Lou there in the early 1970s. She was from St. Louis, and our families vacationed there at the same time for many years (and she and I are still in contact with each other). The typical pattern for most families was the dads fished all day and the moms and kids played at the pool and took trips into town to visit local attractions like The Doll House and Silver Dollar City. There were barbeque grills available, and a walk along the sidewalk in front of the cabins in the early evening would reveal hamburgers cooking on the grills and families eating supper inside the snug little cabins. Mallard ducks would come ashore, and kids would feed them bread. Some of my happiest memories are from staying at Blue Haven, and I looked forward to our week every year.

The summer of 1974, my brother had a summer job and didn't want to go on vacation with us, so my parents let me invite a friend to Blue Haven. I chose my friend Liz to go with me. My mom drove us into town to visit the tourist attractions, and when we weren't doing that, we were at the pool, playing with the other kids. We also hung out in the resort's office with the owner, Jerry Acton, whom Liz mistakenly called Elmer Corn when she met him and which became the name we called him all that week (and for years to come). 

Now, the road that took you to Blue Haven passed a large summer camp, or Kamp as it was called there. The girls camp was called Kamp Kanakomo and the boys camp was Kamp Kanakuk. Sessions were a minimum of 6 weeks, and it was rumored most of the kampers hailed from Texas and came from families with lots of oil money.  One afternoon, Liz and I decided we would check things out at the ol' Kamp, meaning try to look at boys (we were 14 at the time). We walked down the narrow road and back and forth in front of the iron gates, hoping for a glimpse, but all we saw were little boys and an occasional counselor. Mission foiled.

Get in the Time Machine with me and travel to 1989. My parents had continued to vacation at Blue Haven every summer since the early 1970s, even after both my brother and I were grown and flown. They had an epiphany (and more money, since my dad had taken over my grandpa's farm supply store ten years earlier) and bought a house on Lake Taneycomo a couple of miles away from Blue Haven and on the opposite side of the lake. 

Guess what's right across from the lake house? Kamp Kanakuk!

Guess who recently moved into the house two doors down from the lake house? Elmer Corn!

Full circle.

Liz on the left, me on the right (sporting a halter top I SEWED MYSELF), sitting on the front porch of our cabin at Blue Haven. The girl in the center was named Mary,
and we played with her and her brother at the pool all week.

J is for Just A Memory

 

I am in the process of sorting through everything in my parents' home, and in so doing, I have been looking through all my childhood memorabilia, the majority of which I hadn't seen since my parents packed up my belongings and moved them from the home I grew up in to this house some 45 years ago. My 2024 A to Z Challenge theme is based on the treasures I have found in the boxes and the drawers and closets. Join me on my bittersweet journey back to my childhood.

It was September of 1975 and my friend Rose's 15th birthday, and the plan was for Julie, Dana, Rose and me to celebrate by attending a special showing of "Gone With The Wind" at a movie theater across town. 

Since we weren't old enough to drive, my mom agreed to take drive us. She recruited her friend Marilyn to go with her, and we picked up Julie and Dana, who lived in our neighborhood, then off to Rose's house. The Birthday Girl climbed into the car, settled into her seat, and announced, "Today, I am sensuous!" My mom started laughing so hard, I thought she was going to drive into a ditch.

My mom and Marilyn opted to sit elsewhere in the theater while we four girls picked seats nearer the screen. The theater was crowded, and as we found seats and made our way down the row, we spied a couple we knew from school sitting in the back of the theater. They were older than we were and kind of an "it" couple, so we did what any other group of 15 year old girls would do: pulled our mirror-backed keychains out of our purses and spied on them until the show on the screen started.

Once the film began, we forgot about Steve and Carrie in the back of the theater making out and were enthralled with the movie. I had read the book, but seeing the story brought to life on the screen was magical. Happy Birthday, Rose!

Since that night, I have seen "Gone With The Wind" several times on tv, and I even owned a VHS copy of it, but I have no independent recollection of seeing it on the big screen again after Rose's birthday.

Fast forward 48 years to Monday of this week.

I saw an ad for a special showing of "Gone With The Wind" at out local theater (an incredibly crappy theater that had a chance to clean the goo off the floors, fix the seats, and generally spruce the place up during Covid but didn't, so it still has sticky floors and smells like feet) and invited a couple of my co-workers to attend with me. The theater wasn't crowded like the last time I saw the movie; in fact, there weren't more than 15 people in our showing. There was no young couple making out in the back of the theater for us to spy on, the popcorn was disappointing, we were out WAY past our bedtimes to see a four-hour film, the floor was definitely sticky and the place smelled like feet.

But I believe that Scarlett O'Hara still reigns, that watching a movie on your television is no substitute for the big screen, and that Rose is still sensuous!

Rose, the sensuous 15 year old

Julie

Me

I couldn't find Dana's school picture,
so this pic of the two of us will have to do

I is for I'm A Barbie Girl

 

I am in the process of sorting through everything in my parents' home, and in so doing, I have been looking through all my childhood memorabilia, the majority of which I hadn't seen since my parents packed up my belongings and moved them from the home I grew up in to this house some 45 years ago. My 2024 A to Z Challenge theme is based on the treasures I have found in the boxes and the drawers and closets. Join me on my bittersweet journey back to my childhood..

I saw the Barbie movie with my daughter. She cried when it was over, so moved was she by the message of empowerment of women. I thought it was a nice movie (and I may or may not have dozed off for part of it, but we did go to a late showing), but my thoughts were very different from my 25 year old daughter's. 

My daughter grew up with the girls-can-be-anything Barbie. The original Barbie, which came out the year before I was born, was a teenage babysitter. I don't remember receiving my first Barbie, but I was probably around 5 when I got her. She had a bouffant hairdo, and my mom found her a whole wardrobe (including a nurse's uniform, complete with navy blue cape) at a garage sale. 

Poor girl. Think of all the time she spent under
the hairdryer to get that look! (not my doll)

Not mine, but the ones I had were just like this.

I got Barbie's little sister Skipper next, followed by my first Barbie with bendable knees. Malibu Barbie, Malibu Francie, and Malibu Skipper came along after that, along with a Stacy doll. Another couple of Skippers joined the group after that. 

Instead of the Barbies all living in their own homes and living their own lives as depicted in the movie, my Barbies were a family, and I played house with them (fyi: NONE of them were named "Barbie;" I renamed every one of them). I also added a few small dolls to be baby sisters, and I logged hundreds of hours playing with all of them. 

Barbie Dream House? I didn't have one. I took the four Barbie cases I owned and set them up in a semi-circle to be an open floor plan house. Barbie Convertible? I WISHED I had one, but it wasn't practical for such a large family anyway, so the larger Barbie case I used as a living room doubled as the family's station wagon.

I longed for a Ken to be the dad, but I didn't have one for a number of Barbie-playing years. I had to pretend Ken was at work, and when I finally received a Malibu Ken, he then had to double as the dad and as the boyfriend to the oldest sister. 

I made their wardrobes by cutting out wraparound skirts with tunic tops made from scrap fabric and tied at the waist with a piece of yarn. Eventually, I figured out how to make pants by hand sewing them, and Ken got a bitchin' new outfit.

And my original Barbie? I put baby powder in her hair and made her the grandma.

I wish I had my Barbies to show you, but they met an unfortunate end in the Great Sewer Pipe Break in my parents' basement many years ago. Here's what survived:

The living room/station wagon

Ken in his double-knit, houndstooth leisure suit.
Eat your heart out, Ryan Gosling!

I also found this book (it was never in the basement so it is in pristine condition!):

The inside cover of the book, inscribed to me
from my Grandma, who passed away in 1968
when I was seven years old.

My daughter and I may have played Barbies completely differently, but for each of us, they were just what we needed at the time.

H is for Hey, I Could Have Used This For "G" But I Forgot I Had It

 

I am in the process of sorting through everything in my parents' home, and in so doing, I have been looking through all my childhood memorabilia, the majority of which I hadn't seen since my parents packed up my belongings and moved them from the home I grew up in to this house some 45 years ago. My 2024 A to Z Challenge theme is based on the treasures I have found in the boxes and the drawers and closets. Join me on my bittersweet journey back to my childhood.

High school (and college) girls don't carry purses anymore. All they seem to use are tiny wallets that attach to their keychains for their driver's license and a debit card, and I see these and wonder, "Where do they keep their gum?"

We were gum chewers when I was in school. It was forbidden, which is probably why it was so desirable, and teachers made you spit it in the trash can if they caught you with it. You learned to tuck it away in your mouth and talk with it there without getting busted, and we didn't hesitate to swallow it if necessary (where, contrary to popular belief, it did NOT stay in our stomachs for seven years). There was no such thing as sugar-free gum, and I'm sure we got plenty of cavities that were directly related to gum chewing.

Gum came five sticks to a pack, but at some point in the mid-1970s, the companies made larger packs with about 15 sticks to a pack. Each stick was tucked into a piece of foil that folded over the ends and then wrapped with a paper wrapper, and those paper wrappers were saved to make ART! 

Behold, the gum wrapper chain:

Each link is made from one gum wrapper.

The chain, coiled like this, is about 4 inches across

Close up

Closer up....

Lewis for scale. He really really really wanted to
keep this for his own, but I didn't save it for 45 
years for him to destroy it in one night, so sorry, Lew.

The wrappers are folded and slipped together to interlock them into the chain. I can't explain it, but give me some gum wrappers, and I can still make one.

You were supposed to make your gum wrapper chain as long as your boyfriend. I measured mine just now and it is 6'2".

I did not even have a boyfriend.

With the changes in packaging over the years, you'd be hard-put these days to make a gum wrapper chain that is as tall as your boyfriend (unless your boyfriend is Lewis). 

Should I continue to keep this little gem for posterity? Nah, but I'm going to anyway!

G is for Games

 

I am in the process of sorting through everything in my parents' home, and in so doing, I have been looking through all my childhood memorabilia, the majority of which I hadn't seen since my parents packed up my belongings and moved them from the home I grew up in to this house some 45 years ago. My 2024 A to Z Challenge theme is based on the treasures I have found in the boxes and the drawers and closets. Join me on my bittersweet journey back to my childhood.

I wanted to be a teacher for as long as I can remember, which, in retrospect, is quite interesting, since I spent most of my school career trying to figure out how to get OUT of going to class. But my mom was a teacher before she got married, and my grandma was a teacher in a one-room school, and since the only careers for women that I was aware of was teacher, nurse, or secretary, I went with teacher.

I would carefully place my plethora of dolls into rows on the floor of my parents' bedroom (I had a really tiny bedroom that didn't have room for an entire classroom in it, even with dolls; it barely held a twin bed, a dresser, and a chest of drawers), short ones in the front, tall ones in the back. I taught them lessons, read books to them, made little math worksheets that I then answered and graded. Remember in my post "B is for Becky With The Good Hair" I told how I would beg my brother to play dolls with me? He would sometimes agree to play school, name himself Principal, then shut himself up in his room/office, never to be seen or heard from again.

I  majored in Elementary Education in college, of course, and after the general education requirements were fulfilled, my schedule was filled with classes like Music for Elementary Teachers, Art for Elementary Teachers, Movement for Elementary Teachers. It was assumed we were all going to teach in rural schools with no support staff and it was imperative that we could lead children in song while playing a recorder, make collages, and do the polka.

We also took methods classes, such as Math for Elementary Teachers, Physics for Elementary Teachers, Reading for Elementary Teachers (sense a pattern here?). We did group projects. We did individual projects. We learned how to write detailed lesson plans, which I never had to write again in my entire teaching career and were a monumental waste of time, as were the group projects. And playing the recorder.

And then there were the games. Every methods class professor assigned a project where we had to make games to enhance unit objectives. Folder games were big at the time; you used a regular ol' file folder and library pockets and construction paper to make some kind of literacy or math game that was self-checking. The thought was students who finished their work early could take one of these games to their desks and play quietly until the rest of the class was finished. Hahahahahahaaaahahaaaaaaa. Another favorite assignment by professors who obviously hadn't set foot inside an elementary classroom since they WERE in elementary school was to make a board game. I'm not even kidding here. A BOARD game, with game pieces and cards and spinners or dice.

While cleaning out closets upstairs, I pulled out a large plastic bag from the back of one. It was behind some old clothes in the far back, and when I looked in the bag, I found these:

This is a phonics game for identifying beginning sounds. Now that I read the game rules,
it's not a horrible.

Visual discrimination activity. Each envelope had felt shapes and the objective was to replicate each picture on the flannel board. It would have taken them about 30 seconds to mix up every single piece, losing at least one in the process, and shove all of the pieces into one envelope.

They were in pristine condition because I never, not ever used these in my classroom. Because even in the 1980s, kids were savvy and weren't impressed with anything homemade other than cookies.

Now, you would think some 40 years later that professors would no longer require elementary ed majors to make homemade educational games or write lesson plans, wouldn't you? But from working at a university child development center that employs college students to be teacher assistants, many of them elementary ed majors, I can state that yes, they still make them write detailed lesson plans that they will never do again once they start teaching AND they have to make stupid games that will most likely end up in the back of a closet and forgotten about.