When was the last time you sat on the front porch of your home, waving at your neighbors as they passed by, or inviting them up to chat and share a glass of lemonade?
I have always loved front porches, the big kind that holds several chairs. When I lived in St Clair, Michigan, I rarely sat on my private patio in the back. I preferred the front porch, where I often sat reading a book until it got dark. I was not in a neighborhood, but on a state highway, so I only had cars buzzing by.
My love of sitting on the front porch is something I developed as a toddler. Back then, my grandmother was my babysitter. I remember sitting on the porch at various times of the day, watching the birds in the yard, migrant workers across the street playing, and watching the sun set. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Hmm, wonder where I learned that?
As a teenager, my best friend in high school lived in a large, older home with a large front porch. I loved that porch! We would sit on it talking with friends, shouting out to cute guys that drove by, and just enjoying life. The house I grew up in only had a small stoop. I envied April, living in a home with a large porch that looked out over the street.
I no longer have a front porch. I always intend to sit outside on my lawn chair, and those times when I make it out there, I enjoy sitting in the fresh air and reading a book. I don’t get out as often as I want; life gets in the way, even in retirement. I, like many others, spend a good deal of time on social media, sharing trivial quotes, travel, pictures, news articles, and day-to-day activities with distant friends and family. I participate in public forums, where political discussions can turn hostile. People have lost the etiquette exercised during face-to-face conversations. It is so much easier to be insulting and rude when done through an electronic device.
That image takes me back to another time, when life was more relaxed and friendly. Kids played outside; they rang their friends’ doorbells to see if they could come out, rather than having scheduled play dates arranged and monitored by their parents. There were neighborhood block parties, where everyone got together, brought a dish to pass, and adults enjoyed socializing while the kids played. You knew your neighbors, and your neighbors knew you, and everyone got along. In my opinion, it was a better time.
When I saw the quote from Laura Ingalls Wilder about childhood memories, it got me thinking about Christmas during my childhood. Every child should be able to experience the magic of the season—Santa Claus bringing gifts, Christmas programs at church and school, baking Christmas cookies—traditions that become so ingrained that they carry them into adulthood to pass on to their own children.
The quote that inspired this blog
Some say the holidays have changed over the years, and I know to a certain degree that is true, but some things remain the same. Let’s start with the most essential part of decorating: the Christmas tree. In my childhood, we went to the Christmas tree farm. After tromping through snow and checking out several trees, we finally selected one that met my mother’s approval. My dad would cut it down, haul it back to the car, tie it to the roof, and we drove home.
The debate over which tree to select always involved a discussion wherein my mother didn’t think it was tall enough or full enough, and my dad claimed it was too large and wouldn’t fit. We wouldn’t know for a while because we usually purchased it early in the month. The tree went into a bucket of water in the garage to keep it from drying out until a week before Christmas. That is when it was carried into the house and placed in the stand. Dad usually had to cut more off the base for it to clear the ceiling. One year, my mother kept thinking all the trees were too skinny. The one we brought home was so big around it took a massive chunk out of the living room.
The author and her mother at Christmas, age one
My mother always insisted the tree sit in the living room for 24 hours to let the branches drop before we began decorating. The large, hot lights were strung on before we hung ornaments. Ornament placement was a procedure taught by my mother. Stand back from the tree and look for a spot needing an ornament. Once all the ornaments were on the tree, the garland and tinsel were applied. The trees of my childhood had a lot of sparkle, but the ornaments couldn’t be easily seen through all the add-ons.
Eventually, we went to an artificial tree, which allowed us to put it up earlier, and there wasn’t a rush to get it down after the holiday due to dry, dropping needles. That brought a switch to the small, cool bulbs, and we eliminated garland and tinsel. Now, our ornaments were easily seen, which, over time, I grew to prefer. Photos of trees with tinsel still make me smile with memories of days gone by.
Author as a toddler with her father on Christmas
When Hallmark began their yearly dated ornaments, my mother started a tradition of purchasing a dated ornament each year for my sister and me. When I married, I had a wonderful collection of ornaments for my tree. I continued the tradition with my own children and now my grandchildren. Although I sold most of my ornaments in an estate sale when I left my home to live and travel full time in a motorhome, I have been buying some ornaments, plus making photo ornaments of places I visit. Someday, when I stop traveling, I will once again have a Christmas tree and decorate it with my travel memories.
My mother did not enjoy baking, but every year, she made sugar cookies cut into shapes for my sister and me to decorate. As a child, I loved the red cinnamon candies, so I used them for the bell clappers, reindeer noses, and plenty when decorating Christmas trees. When my kids were little, we also decorated sugar cookies, and they were also heavy-handed with red cinnamon dots. To this day, I love sugar cookies, especially at Christmas time.
Author on Christmas, age five. Notice the tinsel on the Christmas tree
While I don’t have a lot of other Christmas tradition memories, we always went “up north,” meaning to Traverse City, Michigan, to visit both sets of grandparents during the holidays. We stayed with my maternal grandparents and would go to the tree lot to purchase and decorate a tree for their house. One year, my dad laid the tree we bought between the snowmobiles on the trailer. As he was driving, he suddenly realized the tree was missing! We never found it as we returned to the tree lot; the guy running the lot gave us our next tree for free. I remember my dad saying he hoped whoever picked it up couldn’t afford one.
When it comes to childhood memories, who can forget the splendor of seeing the tree on Christmas morning with all the gifts below it and stockings full of goodies. The beauty of the gifts sparkling under the lights, the anticipation of what is inside each wrapped package that Santa brought. That is the magic of Christmas, the memories of childhood.
As an adult, it is the anticipation of seeing your child’s face when they experience the season’s magic and the pleasure of knowing you made it possible. That is because Santa lives in every one of us; we create the magic.
Let me here about some of your magical Christmas memories in the comment box below.
My grandkids are 17, 11, and 8, and with me only seeing them once a year, I enjoy taking them on individual outings, plus a few family activities. Our stay in Michigan was longer this year, so I was on the go with various outings. Keep reading if you’re looking for things to do with kids in the Clare/Harrison, Michigan, area!
We started our visit by meeting my daughter, Caroline, husband, Rob, and the kids for dinner at Budd Lake Bar & Restaurant. After dinner, they came over to Hidden Hills Family Campground to visit. Kids’ interests are ever-changing, so I had lists of possible activities. I was surprised at some of the things they passed over and others they selected.
Corbin is 11 and spends most of his time playing video games. He is also harder to appease with activity selections. I wasn’t surprised when he picked Valley Lanes Family Entertainment Center for two of his outings. This complex contains bowling, putt-putt, an escape room, a pool, a laser maze challenge, bumper cars, an arcade, a pinball alley, and laser tag. They also have an on-site restaurant where we enjoyed lunch during both visits.
On our first trip there, we spent quite a bit of time in the arcade. Corbin was surprised I could “ride” a motorcycle so well, not realizing I had ridden the real thing before his birth. I enjoyed watching Corbin play a large selection of games that did not exist when I was hitting the arcades as a teen or when my kids were young. We enjoyed playing air hockey and skee ball, two throwbacks to my day. I spent a lot of time in arcades in the 1970s, so this was a fun outing.
Corbin also elected to go bowling, and we rolled three games on each trip. I hadn’t bowled in years and didn’t do well, but we had fun. When I was a teen, all scorekeeping was by pencil and paper. Now it is automated, including a variety of game selections and cartoons that cheer you on or laugh at your blunders. Quite a change!
On our second trip, Corbin decided to do the laser maze. They had a video screen outside the room, so I could watch his progress, which required navigating over and under laser beams to reach a specific spot in the back, hitting a button, and then navigating the maze again to the front and hitting the ending button. It displays your time and the number of lasers you broke. I chuckled when he said he would make a good burglar, as he only broke six lasers. I said I wouldn’t rely on that; it only takes one to set off alarms that call the cops.
Corbin’s other selected outing was to a water park. Since he had been to the one in Mt. Pleasant a few times, I took him to ZehndersSplash Village in Frankenmuth. Water slides aren’t my thing, but I enjoyed watching Corbin play in the pools, relax in the hot tub, float the lazy river, shoot down a water slide, and other activities. Our tickets were for five hours in the park. Afterward, we enjoyed lunch in the hotel restaurant before leaving.
Corbin is interesting. He appears to be a self-absorbed video gamer, but when he talks, you can tell there is much more going on in his brain than people realize. He uses intellectual phrasing when presenting his opinion and absorbs a lot of information on a variety of subjects.
Austin is 17 and likes history and museums. We enjoyed three different locations on a wide range of topics. The first was to the Ziibiwing Center of Anishinabek Culture and Lifestyle. The museum has 15 areas in their permanent exhibit area about the Saginaw Chippewa Indians. It was interesting to learn about the Chippewa way of life and the oppressive things done to their culture over the centuries. Austin expressed disgust at the horrible ways Native American people were treated in the past.
Austin suggested the Michigan Heroes Museum in Frankenmuth. This very interesting and unique spot opened in 1987, focusing on Michigan’s military and space heroes. It covers ten wars dating back to the Civil War, ending with Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan and Operation Iraqi Freedom in Iraq. There are more than 900 Michigan veterans featured in exhibits.
The information is beautifully displayed in individual showcases about each person and includes some of their personal items. Three permanent galleries are dedicated to Michigan Astronauts and Space Pioneers, Service Cross Recipients, and the nation’s largest collection of Medals of Honor. When viewing a showcase that deals depicts how the Nazis destroyed the lives of innocent people, Austin commented on the horrible way the Nazis behaved. His comments made it apparent he had likely studied this subject in school.
Austin’s third outing was to the Longway Planetarium and Sloan Museum of Discovery. We were early for our planetarium show and mentioned it when I was purchasing a book in their gift shop. It was pouring rain outside, so the cashier gave us complimentary tickets to the show before ours. It was a different topic than the one we had purchased, and it was interesting. Sloan Museum is a hands-on learning experience. Austin is aging out of the museum but enjoyed the activities and suggested we go to the Real Bodies special exhibit.
Presented by Hurley Medical Center, Real Bodies contains real human specimens preserved to show how the human body works. This is more than skeletons; it includes muscles, lungs, heart, and more in beautiful exhibits. I highly recommend this exhibit, but only cell phone photography is allowed.
In touring the museums with Austin, it was interesting how much information he has absorbed about history from school or the reading he enjoys doing on his own. I was also surprised at his interest in the military, as I had not been aware of that.
ALEXANDRIA (Alex) is 8 and a girly girl, talkative and opinionated tomboy. This is why she has such a wide range of activities. We went to Day Escape and Spa for mani-pedis, her first. The salon enjoyed Alex because she was inquisitive and knew what she wanted. They said many of the young girls that come in won’t respond to their questions. Alex was stepping forward, voicing her desires. We walked into the pedicure room, and her tech asked if she wanted to select from a shelf that had mermaid polish on it. Alex looked at the display and said, uh, no, and turned to a large display of available polish. She pointed to three different colors she wanted; she made a different selection for her fingernails.
I was surprised when Alexandria selected the Antique Toy and Firehouse Museum for one of her outings. I had put that on Corbin’s list of possibilities because he has always liked vehicles, but he passed on the option. The museum has more than 60 motorized firetrucks, the largest collection in the world, and includes the FDNY Super Pumper, considered the T-Rex of fire engines. They also have over 12,000 antique and collectible toys.
Alex wore a dress and heels, catching the eye of museum docent Dave by asking him a question. Dave toured us through the museum, letting her into a gated area where antique toys were on shelves, encouraged her to climb up into all the firetrucks, which were labeled “do not climb, and told her when she was done looking around, she was going to drive a real firetruck—which she did! Alex drove a 38-foot firetruck with me in the passenger seat; Alex sat on Dave’s lap in the driver’s seat. We went around a rural block twice, with her turning the steering wheel and blowing the air horn when she saw people. I asked Dave how often they take kids out like that, and he said never; Alex is the only one. Definitely a once in a once-in-a-lifetime, memorable experience.
Alex selected Valley Lanes for one of her outings. Given the age difference between her and Corbin, the selection of games she made was different, and we had a lot of fun. Alex wanted to play miniature golf, which was an interesting 18 holes. I attempted to keep score, but I’m not sure if all the swings one of us took got counted.
I also took each of the kids for their own day of lunch and shopping for a few school outfits. Austin was in and out of the dressing room on his own, and other than showing me one outfit, he pretty much just told me whether they fit or not. It was hard shopping for Corbin as he has definite likes and dislikes, and the majority of clothes in his size were in his dislike category. Alexandria is very opinionated about what she likes. The only problem is her taste is in the older-looking girls’ section, but she is tiny and still wears little girl sizes for most things. She enjoyed trying on clothes, and it was like a modeling show as she posed for me to photograph each outfit.
In addition to my individual outings with the kids, we had a couple family outings. These were harder to fit in because Caroline works 6-7 days a week. We did manage to coordinate an outing with all three kids to Bronner’s Christmas Wonderland in Frankenmuth. Bronners is the world’s largest year-round Christmas store, covering 2.2 acres plus 27 acres of landscaped grounds. If you are ever in Frankenmuth, Michigan, this is a must-see.
We also went on the Bavarian Belle Riverboat cruise. This is a one-hour cruise down the Cass River on a stern-driven paddlewheel riverboat and includes narration about the history of Frankenmuth. After the cruise, we shopped our way back through River Plaza to the car.
Another family outing was to the Children’s Zoo in Saginaw. Opened in 1929, this small zoo covers only 10 acres but has some interesting displays and over 150 animals. It’s a perfect spot for those who want to visit a zoo that doesn’t require a full day and miles of walking. We finished up with a late lunch at Saginaw Old Town Junction, where the kids wanted to sit upstairs with an overlook of the floor below. The food was good, and I shouldn’t have been surprised when Austin ate a half-pound hamburger with fries and then finished his sister’s fries. I forgot how much teen boys can consume!
We enjoyed visiting the Clare Historical Museum complex, which includes a museum, historic log home, blacksmith shop, and historical school. It was amazing how small the homes were where people raised many children. Entire homes were smaller than the family room in many of today’s houses. Ringing the school bell was comical, as Alexandria is so lightweight that the cord pulled her up off the floor as it rang. This is an off-the-beaten-path museum that is interesting and well worth the trip.
The final get-together with the family was a buffet meal at Ponderosa Steak House in Clare, which ended way too soon. It was a fun summer, and I always look forward to spending time with the kids.
I don’t miss the Michigan winters—I winter in Yuma, Arizona—but I miss the days when I lived a mile from the kids and had them at my house frequently. They grow up quickly!
One of the downfalls of living and traveling full-time in an RV is only seeing my grandchildren once a year. While planning my 2023 travels and time in Michigan, I find my mind reminiscing back to the fun I had last summer with my grandchildren, Austin, Corbin, and Alexandria.
My 2022 visit was a fast-moving nine-day visit. I decided that because of the difference in their ages and interests and not having much time with them, it would be fun to do a couple of things together in the nine days I was there. I also wanted special one-on-one time so each child got their own day.
I took the three of them to a small, local railroad museum. The museum was interesting but didn’t hold their attention for long, so I suggested ice cream. I was surprised to learn Corbin doesn’t like ice cream, so he got a pop to drink instead. I thought it was cool when an Amish horse and buggy came down the street as we ate our ice cream at a picnic table.
Austin and Alex on a railroad car outside the Clare Railroad Museum; Corbin and Alex view a display inside the museum
When I commented on the horse and buggy, Corbin (age 12) informed me that the Amish do not believe in modern technology. To them seeing this is common, everyday stuff. I realized how much when I was on my way back to my campground and saw a horse and carriage tied up to a hitching post in front of Dollar General.
Alexandria (Alex)
Alexandria was the first to go solo, and her bubbly, social butterfly 7-year-old personality is always fun to watch. She is a girly girl, and that shines through when shopping for clothes. We went to the dressing room with six outfits to try on, and I told her we would buy two for school. That was a fantasy in my mind but turned out not reality.
After the try-on session, there was nothing Alex couldn’t wear, so I asked her which she wanted. She said she needed the grey flowered fleece pants and top because they are soft and warm. The yellow-flowered dress and leggings are necessary because it is bright and sunny. The third dress and leggings she wanted because it was cute. Oh, and by the way, Grandma, I need shoes. We were at Kohls and did go to the shoe department, but they didn’t have any in her size.
Here’s a comical side note—Alex recently informed her mom that she needed new shoes because when she went shopping with me, I wouldn’t buy her any! It has been seven months since I took her shopping. She never said anything to me about not getting them. Still, my daughter’s comment has me clued in about not making any mistakes this time because they will not be forgotten!
Alex selected McDonald’s for lunch, and she talked continuously through the entire meal. I had to tell her to stop talking and eat so we could get to the museum. The Mid-Michigan Children’s Museum is a fun, hands-on museum for kids 10 and under and has eleven galleries created around the school curriculum.
Alex enjoying the dentistry exhibit and climbing wall at Mid-Michigan Children’s Museum
With everything from car driving, medical and dental areas, scientific activities, wall climbing, water activities, art center, large tinker toy building, play kitchen area, play farm area, and more, she was on the go constantly. She took home artwork she made and a toy from the gift shop. We were there for about four hours and closed the place down.
Austin
Austin was 16, so his school shopping was in the young men’s department. I and several other mothers and grandmothers hung around the doorway of the men’s fitting room, checking on how the clothing looked on the teens trying on clothes for school. Heaven help the adult male who wants to try things on during school shopping season.
Austin got a couple of outfits for school, then selected McDonald’s for lunch. He is quieter, so conversation is at a minimum with him. After lunch, we went to the Castle Museum of Saginaw County History.
Austin standing beside a sign outside the Castle Museum of Saginaw and viewing a display inside the museum
The museum has three levels of exhibits and displays, covering the Saginaw Sports Hall of Fame, lumbering, and automotive. There are some hands-on exhibits and many displays with informational cards to read. I’m sure there are things we missed or skimmed over when we were there. Their gift items are minimal, and Austin wasn’t interested in any of the items they had.
Corbin
Corbin, at age 12, loves astronomy, so I purchased tickets for a program at the Delta College Planetarium. We arrived a little early and explored the exhibits they had while waiting for the program to start. The program was interesting and designed for kids exploring space, but informative and interesting. The gift area had pencils and pencil toppers in an assortment of designs, so Corbin picked three sets for himself, then selected some for Austin and Alex.
After the program, we walked across the street to Wenonah Park, which displayed several flags. I was impressed that Corbin could list their origins; I didn’t know them. After spending a few minutes at the park, Corbin suggested we head to lunch—I guess he was hungry.
Corbin viewing display inside Delta College Planetarium and in front of the flag display at Wenonah Park
Corbin suggested Taco Bell, saying he thought I could use a break from McDonald’s. He was right, but I would have gladly gone if he suggested going there. As Corbin ate six cheese rollups, he got a huge thumbs up from me by saying, “People like us who aren’t fat can eat here.” I don’t meet the “not fat” classification, but it’s nice that Corbin views me that way.
After lunch, we went to Kohl’s, where we got him a couple of outfits for school. He was easy; he knew what he liked and wanted to wear. The only dispute was when they didn’t have a character shirt in the right size, and he tried to convince me one that fit like a second skin was fine. I told him there was no way I was buying it in that size and that he would need to find something else.
Saying Goodbye
Paul and I met my cousin and her husband in Cadillac for lunch. Another day my daughter, Caroline, accompanied us on a trip to Traverse City, where we visited my grandparent’s farm, which is now Market 72, a public venue for events. We then met my other cousin and uncle for lunch.
The above is the farm of my paternal grandparents, Louise and Dominick King, built by my great-grandfather in 1918 on M-72 in Traverse City. You see the front and back of the house, the view of the barns from the back porch, and Caroline standing under weeping willow trees between the sideyard and one of the farming fields.
As my time came to an end, Paul and I went to dinner at Texas Roadhouse with my daughter, son-in-law, and three kids. The dinner was over too quickly. It was the last time I would see them for another year. I was moving the RV downstate to stay in Port Huron before heading south to Arizona. I took a few family photos of them and departed with sadness.
Austin, Rob, Caroline, Corbin, and Alexandria
Blake’s Family Day
After I left the Clare area and was in Port Huron, Caroline called and asked if I would like to attend Family Day at Blakes’s Big Red Apple in Macomb. My son-in-law has been working the Halloween weekends there for several years, so they always attend the employee family day.
This was a fun outing, with a haunted hayride, a zombie paintball hayride (my son-in-law is a zombie), a 3-story haunted barn, a petting zoo, a pedal car track, and other activities. Of course, no trip to an apple orchard would be complete without purchasing apple cider, donuts, and caramel apples.
Alex leads the way, with Corbin and Austin following behind on the pedal vehicles. Corbin and Alex enjoy the bounce pads. Austin, Alexandria, and Corbin stand by the “How Tall This Fall?” display at Blake’s Big Red Apple.
And with that, my yearly visit with my grandchildren was officially over. Now I look forward to 2023 when I have booked a longer stay of six weeks in their area. I am looking forward to spending more time with them.
While the age-old saying about hindsight being 20/20 is often used, the roll-over of the new year gives it an entirely new meaning. Regardless of what you personally think of the past year, there are likely some choices you would have made differently. This is true for any year, but especially given the horrific one we had.
Are there thing I would have changed? Not many. I would not have remained in Yuma throughout the summer; day after day of 115 degree heat is too much! The choices we made kept us healthy, except for a couple rounds of illness I had in the middle of the summer so it was not a bad choice either.
I regret not getting back to Michigan to see my kids and grandchildren. Michigan was a roller coaster ride of what the Governor was going to keep open or shut down from week to week, so we decided not to risk it. We are looking forward to our upcoming travel plans.
While death, disruption, loss of income, and depression are what many will likely recall when they think back on the past year, there are also some positives that should come to the forefront:
More time together with your spouse/partner/significant-other or any other name you call the person you reside with
More time to do gardening, crafts, hobbies
Homemade food, especially baked goods became a normal day of life for many
Kids enjoyed being home with their parents and having more family time
Truly learning what your kids are studying in school if they were doing remote learning
Less air pollution from traffic meant cleaner air to breathe
Many people learned how easy and convenient it is to work from home
Companies may now decide to lower their overhead by having more people work from home on a regular basis
Everyone has become more tech savvy thanks to Zoom, Jitsi Meet, and Google Meet
Those who reside too far away to attend club meetings were brought “into the loop” through online meetings
Vacation doesn’t mean you have to travel far
As for me, I’ve spent my time writing, processing photos and videos, and have taken a real liking to adult coloring books.
Whatever the things are that stay-at-home orders and Covid-19 brought to you, remember hindsight is 2020 and you can now envision a bright future in 2021.
When you own hotels, you can collect a lot of rent. Every time you round the corner you collect $200, and there is always a chance you can get out of jail free. Every player knows it is better to purchase property on Park Place and Boardwalk than it is on Mediterranean or Baltic Avenue. The real competition is everyone wanting to own a railroad Monopoly.
Of course, it is important to know how to manage money properly, which includes dealing with bills, expenses, insurance, making deals, and getting a commission. Let’s not forget to collect your PayDay at the end of the month. The goal is to always have more cash and savings than any of your friends
The important thing in being successful is to set your own victory conditions and decide the best way is to allocate your money, fame and happiness to achieve your Careers goal. As with any position, experience is beneficial, and opportunity helps you move ahead. Decisions on life’s goals help you determine your college educational degree and your salary level.
You don’t want to get into Trouble as you move out of home and start racing around. The way to cross the finish line first is to force your opponents back home.
When you are racing there is always the risk of bumping an opponent, and in such a case it is always proper to say Sorry!
As we all know, when going through life it is easy to have expenses, in which case you may crank your credit cards up to $50,000 due. That is what happens when you always say Charge It!
Now that you own a Monopoly, and have solid Careers with a regular PayDay, you may know that the goal is to keep you out of Trouble and you can always tell your friends Sorry when you are constantly saying Charge It!
I hope you have enjoyed my little tour of some of my favorite games from my youth. Keep in mind that as you proceed through The Game of Life, making decisions about college, marriage, jobs, and retirement there will always be stumbling blocks along the way. That is sometimes what happens when you work with others, only to have them turn against you and before you know it you may be caught in a Mouse Trap and out of the game.
Author’s Note: It was recently brought to my attention that there are readers out there who may not be familiar with the board games I played while growing up. My favorite by far was Monopoly, and my favorite playing piece was the car. PayDay is a spin-off from Monopoly. I passed my love of Monopoly down to my son, who as a teen had the game Triopoly. I believe all the games shown above are still available todayin either vintage or updated versions.
We all have memories from our childhood of what a grandma is. The type of grandmother I am is nothing like what my grandmothers were. Grandmas like them no longer exist.
My grandmothers were of the era where women stayed home, and when at home wore a full apron. They were excellent cooks and always made sure they fed everyone who visited. When you walked in the door, they were always happy to see you.
That is where the similarities in my two grandmother’s end. They were each special in their own way, but so very different.
My Maternal Grandmother
Grace DeVries Hilts was born May 3, 1899 and grew up one of 10 children. Her parents and some of her siblings were born in the Netherlands. Grandma was born in Jamestown, Michigan. Her mother died shortly after childbirth and her father married the family housekeeper.
Grandma did not get along with her stepmother and married the first man who asked her. She was 18 years old on August 11, 1917 when she took her wedding vows to Ralph Hilts in Hershey Michigan.
I have fond memories of my grandfather, but his stature in life was far below what my grandmother’s had been. I’m sure the early years of their marriage were most likely difficult.
Grandpa was a hardworking man and together they built a life, raising two boys and later my mother. When my mother was born her brothers were already 19 and 23.
My grandmother was 61 years old when I was born and she became my babysitter. Both my parents were employed full time in Traverse City, and because of the distance from their home in town to the farm, I essentially lived with my grandparents the first 2-3 years of my life.
My parents would drop me off at the farm on Sunday night, visit me on Wednesday evening, and pick me up on Friday night. Because of the time I spent at their home, I developed a very close bond with my grandparents, especially my grandmother.
Memories of things that were part of my life as a toddler have stayed with me for life.
Front Porch Sitting
My love of large front porches probably started with Grandma. I remember sitting on the large farm house porch as the sun was going down. We would watch children playing across the street, but we never talked to them, and they never came over.
The people across the street lived in a large barn and were referred to as “the cherry pickers.” I now realize they were Mexican migrant workers. They would arrive in Traverse City every summer to harvest the cherries.
We also sat on that porch during the day, and Grandma would give me the glass saltshaker off the kitchen table. She told me that if I could sneak up on a bird and get salt on its tail that it would not be able to fly.
Oh, how I tried to get salt on those tails, but I never accomplished that task. I wonder how much salt I put on Grandma’s front lawn. Thinking back Grandma must have found it quite entertaining to watch me try to tiptoe up on a bird, knowing perfectly well that the bird was far more keen then my young mind realized.
Doing Laundry
My grandmother had a ringer washer. Once the clothes had been washed and rinsed, each item had to be run through a ringer to squeeze the water out before being hung on the clothes line to dry.
My most vibrant memory of that machine is when my younger sister stuck her arm in the ringer, and it sucked her arm in and got stuck. Carol screamed and my mother slammed her hand down on a quick release, popping the ringer open. I’m not sure who was more scared, my sister who was stuck or me watching the entire scenario.
When the clothes were washed and rung out, they were carried out to hang on the wash line. I had my own little laundry basket and clothes pins.
A low wash line was strung for me at the end between two poles. That is where I had the task of hanging small items such as wash clothes. A very important task for a two year old.
Down on the Farm
It was a farm and chores had to be done. I remember going into the hen house with my grandmother and taking the eggs out from under the chickens.
I also remember she let me carry the egg basket back into the house – that was gutsy! I guess when the eggs are available daily if I broke a few it was no big deal.
We also fed the chickens. I’m not sure what Grandma gave them, but I remember it was in a pan and she would throw it over the top of what to me seemed like a super high fence. For years I wondered how she did that, but now realize it probably wasn’t as high my memory makes it out to be.
Grandma had a few rows of raspberry bushes, and I could go out and pick all the raspberries I wanted to eat. To this day I love fresh raspberries. I wonder if I got my love of other fresh fruit and vegetables from my time with my grandparents.
At night we would call the cows. I can still here her saying “Come Bessy, Come Bessy, Come Bessy Come.” The next thing you would see is the cows walking over the hill and heading to the fence where we stood.
With Grandma Pre-Christmas 1961
Grandma with Gracie (my mother) and my cousins, Iva and John
Grandma and Grandpa
Grace Hilts and Dominik King on the left, Louise King and Ralph Hilts on the right on my parent’s wedding day
My Grandma in 1982 – 83 years old
Grandma, I am standing and my sister is on the pony.
My high school graduation in 1978 with my two grandmothers. Grace Hilts (maternal) on the left, Louise King (paternal) on the right
Grandma in November 1964 – 65 years old
Grandma and her son/my uncle, Lee Hilts
With Grandma on my wedding day, September 12, 1981 – she was 82
Going to Get the Paper
While memories of my grandfather are not as strong, there was one daily activity I loved, and that was going to get the paper. He had to drive to a small store or gas station to pick it up.
This was before seat belts and car seats were used. I remember sitting in the center of the front seat, and as we drove he would let me push all the buttons on the radio. Then when we got to the store, I could look inside a chest freezer and pick out an ice cream or Popsicle. A simple routine that holds fond memories.
I also liked walking the garden with him when he would pick the tomato worms off the plants and drop them into a can. I don’t know what was in the can, but it couldn’t have been good because they died.
Another memory of my grandfather is being in his garage with him. He kept beer out there, tucked behind his toolboxes. He would pull one out and pop it open to drink it.
Thinking back that is the only place I ever saw him drink anything alcoholic. Beer was never kept in the house. My grandmother did not drink at all, so I don’t know if she opposed having it in the house or if he simply did that out of respect for her.
The Move From the Farm
As they aged my grandparents sold the farm. Even though we weren’t there often, they had kept a pony for my sister and I to ride when we visited. That would be no more.
They moved into two-story home on a smaller piece of property when I was a child. It was next to a cherry orchard. It was from there that I first saw the automatic cherry pickers.
I still remember the disappointment I felt seeing that machine violently shake the tree so the cherry’s would fall. I felt bad that the Mexican cherry pickers would no longer be climbing the trees with their buckets to harvest the crops.
While living in that house my grandfather passed away. I was in 9th grade when he died, and Grandma would move again. She moved to a house next to my aunt and uncle’s home.
Grandma didn’t drive, so I’m sure this made things more convenient for her, plus it was a ranch style, so easier to navigate. It did have one wonderful feature, a mini orchard behind it filled with an assortment of sour cherry, sweet cherry, plum and peach trees. A fruit lovers paradise!
Habits I learned and Things I Didn’t Learn
My mother always said I have traits of my grandmother that I probably acquired while living with her. One of those was the fact that I don’t easily share my feelings. I keep things to myself. I think over the years I have become more open, but I still walk a cautious line in that area.
I used to do a lot of embroidery, and I now have my grandmother’s embroidery basket. I remember my mother saying I make my stitches just like Grandma, tiny and precise.
One thing I didn’t learn and wish I had is how to tat. Grandma put tatting on the edge of everything she embroidered. Dresser scarves and pillow cases all were edged with tatting.
When it came to cooking, Grandma made the best beef and noodles. I never learned how. I remember my mother making it one time and I told her they weren’t as good as Grandma’s. She never made them again. I wish I knew how Grandma made them.
If I Could Go Back
If I could go back and spend just one more day with Grandma, what a wonderful day it would be. I would get up and not get dressed, just so I could hear her say one more time “get your duds on.”
I would enjoy watching her cook breakfast. I don’t know how she could prepare a full serving plate of over-easy eggs, never breaking a yoke going into the pan or onto the plate.
I would sit in the kitchen and observe her laying an antique curling iron over the stove burner to warm it up before curling her hair so we could go to town. Of course she would change into her “going to town dress” because a house dress wasn’t proper. Once we got home she would immediately change out of that dress and back into her house dress, placing a full apron over it.
I would enjoy the orange slice candies out of the candy dish on the coffee table. They are still one of my favorite candies. I would also grab a couple Windmill Cookies from the depression glass cookie jar that sat on the end of the kitchen table.
My foot would quietly work the peddle on her sewing machine up and down, amazed that she used to sew clothing on that old treadle machine. My mother said when I was little Grandma could look at me, take a piece of fabric and freehand cut a dress, sew it, and it would fit me perfectly.
I would sit and watch the goldfish inside the glass fishbowl that sits in a wobbly, antique metal fishbowl stand next to her chair. She enjoyed sitting and watching them.
At the end of the day Grandma and I would sit on the front porch as the sun goes down. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning, red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
I would watch Grandma standing in the drive waving as I backed down the drive, one last time.
Grandma died on February 11, 1988, one month after my son was born. I have always regretted not making the drive north so she could see her great-grandson prior to her death. Grandma’s health had been deteriorating following a stroke. My mother said she thought Grandma held just on long enough to know that I and my son, Patrick, were fine.
I hope you enjoyed reading about memories of my maternal grandmother. Watch for my upcoming Memories of Grandma–Part 2, which is about the memories I have of my paternal Grandma, Louse Elizabeth Lautner King.
My first six days as a Nomad were interesting, fun, and sometimes frustrating. In many ways it feels more like a vacation rather than a lifestyle change. It is relaxing and interesting, and sometimes not at all what is planned. If I can experience all this in six days, I can’t imagine what the future will bring.
On Monday we left Port Huron, Michigan and traveled to Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, Canada. Our original plan was to stay only two nights, but after reviewing travel information about the surrounding area decided to extend our stay to a total of four days.
On Tuesday we visited the Bush Pilot Heritage Centre in Sault Ste. Marie. Paul was a bush pilot when he lived in Owen Sound, Ontario as a teen so this was on his “hit list.” The museum was interesting, with several planes on display inside the hanger where the museum is located. We viewed two movies, the first was an “on board” experience with a bush pilot, and of course took the rider through a series of mistakes and mishaps that can happen on a plane, including an unexpected storm, dozing off with the plan on autopilot, and more. The second movie was in 3D and took you into the heart of fighting forest fires. You experienced time in flight with the commander of the entire firefighting operation, in flight with a pilot doing water drops, and on land with a ground firefighting crew. Both movies are well worth the time it takes to view them.
A small town about four hours northwest of Sault Ste. Marie is the home of Winnie-the-Pooh, and houses a statue of Winnie, as well as a Winnie-the-Pooh and Railroad Museum. I wanted to go there so a day trip was planned. Part of the trip goes along the shore of Lake Superior, and we figured we would find photo ops along the way. A visitor guide worker had told us about an off-road trail on that stretch which Paul wanted to check out. We didn’t locate the trail she used, but did access a logging trail, which about 20 minutes in we decided was not offering any photo ops so turned around and continued on our journey.
We did find a couple spots to stop and take photographs of Lake Superior, and a small rapids and river we walked in and photographed. It was interesting that this entire route had very few towns, gas stations, or any other type of business or rest area to stop at. So scarce they were practically non-existent. We saw a rest area/visitor center which made a good stop for a few minutes. They had a small gift shop where Paul decided to pick up a couple energy bars to tie us over until lunch, which we planned to eat in White River. That purchase turned out to be a very good decision.
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We munched on our energy bars, and decided to stop for gas as we rolled into White River, because we would need it to make the full journey back to Sault Ste. Marie. There were barriers up across the gas pumps and an attendant walked over and informed us that the pumps were not working because the entire town of White River had lost power and nothing was open. We drove through town and took pictures of the Winnie-the-Pooh statue. The attendant was correct, absolutely everything, including the museum we had just driven four hours to visit, was closed so we started our journey back.
Not too far south of White River was a small gas station with full-service pumps. The attendant there shared that the last time White River lost power they were out for a week. He also let us know that there was a restaurant on Hwy 17 just south of Wasmus where we could get lunch/dinner. By now it was after 2:00 pm and we were definitely getting hungry.
We drove the two hours south and located the restaurant. Our luck had not yet changed; on the front door hung a sign that they were closed until 5:00 pm. It was only 4:30 so we decided to drive on. We were not far from our campground when we found The Voyageur Lodge, which included a small restaurant. The menu was limited, but the food very good. Paul had an open face hamburger, which had gravy to which he added mushrooms and onions. It normally included fries and coleslaw, but he switched the fries for onion rings, which he said were very good. I opted for a fish sandwich which also came with fries. The sandwich was made with whitefish which was lightly breaded and very nicely done. We shared a butter tart for dessert, also very tasty.
Our final day in Sault Ste. Marie we drove into town and visited the historical canal sight. At the end of the island was a swing damn, one of only nine built and the last in existence. It is used in emergency situations if there is a problem with the lock. This is also where the lock is located for small boats, and we were lucky enough to see two of the Soo Locks Tour boats use the lock at the same time. The difference in elevation between Lake Superior and Lake Huron is 21 feet, so quite interesting to observe the lock in operation. A nice way to finish out our stay.
Friday morning we said goodbye to Sault Ste. Marie and drove east through Ontario, stopping at a small campground in Lavigne, Ontario. We are here only for two nights. One day of rest and computer work before continuing our journey to Ottawa, the capitol of Canada, where we plan to spend four days.
We did take some time from our paperwork to photograph some very decorative scarecrow displays around town. These have been prepared as part of a plowing competition in September. I finished out our last night in Lavigne with a walk around the park, taking a few photographs of Lake Nippising, which the campground is located on.
So far my life as a nomad has been interesting and relaxing, even if Winnie-the-Pooh’s hometown did leave me a bit frustrated. I guess in this lifestyle you simply have to go-with-the-flow when rocks appear in the river.
When you live with constant turmoil you become accustomed to living as if on a constant roller coaster ride. The twists and turns of upheaval in your life create emotional stress, and yet you constantly adjust, cope, and keep on moving forward. This becomes so normal you do not even realize how much stress you are constantly under.
That has been my life for the past few years. The loss of my grandchildren to foster care and then a battle with CPS when we tried to adopt which resulted in them being lost to adoption by strangers. My son serving six years in prison for home invasion, dealing with the constant dangers that environments holds. My mother, father, father-in-law, and then my husband battling cancer and passing away, all within a three year period. My son being released from prison and paroled to my home; something I had originally looked forward to but which became a very stressful situation.
Following my husband’s death I made a determination that I needed to downsize out of my home and into something smaller. In the midst of planning for that made a decision to instead downsize into an RV and travel full-time. During this process I informed both of my adult children that I was no longer going to be able to subsidize them financially, something my husband had always done while he was alive. This resulted in more stress, but over time success was achieved. They are both now living financially on their own.
I am finally at a point where success is on the horizon. My new lifestyle begins on Monday. I closed on my house today. Friday is my last day of work. My daughter moved her family north and is now residing near her fiance’s parents, a situation that is serving well. Both Caroline and Rob are working at new jobs and my three grandchildren are enjoying life in a more country setting close to their other grandparents.
My son, now out of prison for 1-1/2 years, has obtained his CDL and is working in a position driving semi. He and his ex-wife have reconciled and are residing in a home they rent near his workplace. I am at peace that I do not have to worry about him being cold, undernourished, injured or killed in prison. I wish him success.
For the first time in years my mind is at peace. My children are both living on their own without my financial assistance, and I am going into semi-retirement. I will be residing full-time in a motor home, traveling the United States and Canada and doing part-time remote or seasonal work.
For the first time in years I can sleep without my mind churning over the problems, worries, and stress that plagued me for so long. I hope nothing happens to upset the apple cart. A mind at peace is a wonderful thing.
A few weeks ago I decorated my Christmas tree with an assortment of carefully selected ornaments, those that had special significance or appeal. This will be my last “real” Christmas tree, at least for a few years. Most of my ornaments will be given away or sold. My snowman collection, which I have been accumulating for years, and many other things that say “holiday tradition” to me will be forsaken for a new adventure.
I have made the decision to downsize out of my house and into a motor home. When one goes from a house to an RV, most of your possessions must go, and that includes the majority of my holiday decorations, including my Christmas tree. Some will be given to my adult children, others will go into an estate sale for others to enjoy.
When you decorate your tree each year, do you have ornaments that hold special meaning? Are there traditions you have carried on from your childhood? Long before Elf-On-A-Shelf became a fad, my mother always had an elf on her Christmas tree for good luck. When I got married I had to have an elf, and when my daughter found out I was downsizing she said “are you taking your elf?” This is the way that family traditions are handed down.
American Christmas traditions began around 1830 when an image from England of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert celebrating the holiday around a table-top tree was re-printed in American publications. The photo was widely published and by 1900 one in five Americans had a Christmas tree. The first trees were decorated with things such as nuts, popcorn strings, homemade trinkets, oranges and lemons. Newspapers and magazines encouraged Americans to purchase more elaborate decorations, and by 1870 ornaments were being imported from Germany.
German immigrants brought to America the tradition of putting lights, sweets, and toys on the branches of the tree. My tree has some glass-blown ornaments, Hallmark dated ornaments, birds, elves, glass balls, and ornaments from my youth. There are ornaments that were purchased as souvenirs, such as the Hot Air Balloon Fiesta, Washington DC, and the Calgary Stampede. There are memorial ornaments for my father, nephew, and husband. One year I was given an ornament that depicts two favorite things of mine…books and coffee. There is a special, sentimental feeling each year as these are brought back out and placed on the tree.
Along with tree decorating traditions, most of us grew up with the magic of Santa Clause. Saint Nicholas was a Christian holy person believed to have lived in the third century, who became known as a protector of children. The bearded, jolly Santa dressed in red that first appeared in Clement Moore’s A Visit from Saint Nicholas in 1820. Thomas Nast was an artist who’s first major depiction of Santa Claus in Harper’s Weekly in 1886 created the image we envision today. Nast contributed 33 Christmas drawings to Harper’s Weekly between 1863 to 1886, and Santa is seen or referenced in all but one. It is Nast who was instrumental in standardizing a national image of a jolly, kind and portly Santa dressed in a red, fur-trimmed suit delivering toys from his North Pole workshop.
Santa lives on today because he exemplifies dreams, hope, wishes and beliefs. In a world filled with stress, violence, poverty, and hunger, Christmas brings out the good in everyone. The thought that if you just believe, good things will happen. Christmas is magic, and if you don’t believe that, watch a child’s eyes on Christmas morning.
Anyone who has raised a boy can relate to the Dirt on My Shirt poem that I stumbled across recently. When I saw it memories of my son and my grandsons came to mind. It is like they are immune to the idea of cleanliness. If it looks like fun, dig right in.
I have very rarely seen my grandson, Corbin, with a clean face. I think it is magnetic and attracts dirt, all he has to do is walk across a room and it zeros in on him. Thinking back to when my son was growing up, there were all kinds of messes and things going on that bring to life the saying “boys will be boys.”
Here are some of my “boys will be boys” memories….
Walking into my backyard and Patrick and his friend had dug a huge hole in the ground. Why? Just for fun!
Patrick telling me about taking a boat down the canal using a battery-operated fan for a motor. I thought he was kidding until I was at a meeting and a mother who lived on the canal commented on these boys running a boat down the canal using a fan for a motor…she thought it was pretty ingenious!
My grandson, Corbin, telling me he didn’t have to wash his hands as he flipped them back and forth saying “see they are clean” and “I’ll wash them on Thursday.”
Socks that are filthy because why bother putting on shoes, you’re only going into the yard.
Cleaning out pockets filled with stones, grass, dirt, and miscellaneous other items.
At 2-1/2 to 3 years Patrick had a 2-foot ramp he would use to jump his 2-wheeler. My mother-in-law, who had raised three boys, didn’t give it a thought. My parents, who had raised two girls almost had heart failure when they saw him do the jump at 2-1/2 years.
My grandson, Austin at 2-3 years old running onto a water park and standing in the running sprinklers fully clothed in shoes, turtle neck top and overalls.
Creek findings in my garage: craw-fish, baby muskrat, fish, snails, snakes, turtles (Patrick, now 30-years old, has a large turtle in a tank in my garage right now) all brought home and kept in fish tanks in my garage.
Having all the screws in my dining room chairs removed by Patrick’s bare hands.
My grandson, Austin sliding ice cubes from his Koolaid around on the table; when asked what he was doing he said “washing the table.”
Hearing a crash and discovering my 2 year old son on top of my refrigerator.
Greasy/dirty clothes from fixing things…snow blowers, lawn mowers, anything that doesn’t work.
The list could go on forever, and thinking back on those memories makes me smile. After all, I can still look at Patrick, now 30 years old, and he will have dirt on his shirt, dirt on his hands, and dirt on his face due to something he has been working on. Oh, and he still leaves dirt on the refrigerator handle when grabbing something to drink.
I recently stumbled across a poem I have loved since the first time I saw it…Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow, for babies grow old we’ve learned to our sorrow, so quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep, I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.
There is nothing quite so relaxing as a baby snuggled up against your shoulder, their head tucked against your neck, as you rock them to sleep. I rocked my kids to sleep all the time, to the extent that training them to go to bed without being rocked to sleep first was difficult. However I would not forgo all those hours I spent in a rocking chair with them cuddled against me for anything.
In today’s rush-rush society rocking babies to sleep is something that has fallen out of practice. You hear of people putting babies into a crib with a bottle to fall asleep. Mothers who nurse feed the baby and then immediately lay them down. There isn’t that extended cuddle time when you are holding and rocking the baby without a reason other than just to cuddle. It is sad to think there are two generations missing out on this special time….the generation of parents and the generation of babies.
Modern lifestyles are lived in the fast lane. We have babies, then rush them into preschool as early as age three. By the time they reach kindergarten children have been attending day care or preschool for 2-3 years, maybe more. Many children are enrolled at the elementary age into sports or other activities. By the time the child reaches high school they have a schedule of school, homework, sports, and other extracurricular activities, then comes graduation and college.
Time goes fast. If you are a mother of young children, cherish those moments. Take the time to sit in a rocking chair with your baby on your shoulder or your toddler on your lap. Read them a story, let them fall asleep, enjoy that quite cuddle time, then carry them to bed. Before long they won’t want to sit and cuddle and you will miss those times. Enjoy them. Cherish them. Because as every mother soon learns, babies don’t keep.
Imagine six years of life where your movements are controlled, where you have no privacy, where you can make phone calls out but no one can call you, your mail is read prior to you receiving it, where you can never go visit, but must wait for people to visit you. That is the life my son led from the time he was 24 years old until he was 30.
When he received notice in December that he had received parole he began counting down the days. March 20th seemed like it was in the distant future for him. For me it went fast. I was trying to get things done prior to his release, and of course I made the six hour drive to pick him up.
Patrick was released from Newberry Correctional Facility in Michigan’s upper peninsula at 8:00 am March 20, 2018. Although he is on a tether for the first six months of his two year parole, and he must abide by curfews that in the beginning are tight, it is considerably better than the spot he was at. So how did Patrick spend his first day of freedom?
Patrick — this single photo is on the OUTSIDE of the prison.
Our last prison photo
I picked him up at the correctional facility, we loaded his belongings into the car and than took our last two prison photos, a “selfie” of the two of us, and then one of him in front of the facility. Every time I (and my now deceased husband) visited we paid to have photos taken of us together and one of Patrick alone, so this was our last prison photo shoot.
Our first stop was a gas station/McDonald’s combination where he got a McGriddle sandwich — also one of my favorites. When he asked if he could have bacon added to the sandwich the girl responded “you can have whatever you want” and Patrick responded “those are words I’m not used to hearing.”
I had purchased him a cell phone, but phones have advanced considerably in the past six years. He was on the phone talking as we were crossing the Mackinac Bridge and I heard him say that the water looked really cool with the ice on it and “if I wasn’t on the phone talking to you I could take a picture.” He got instructions on how to stay on the phone and take a photo at the same time.
Two years ago my husband/Patrick’s father passed away, and I had obtained permission from the parole agent to make a few stops, Great Lakes National Cemetery in Holly being one, where Patrick saw his father’s grave-site for the first time.
Reading the tile on his father’s grave
We then headed to Fort Gratiot, he did not have to check in with the parole agent until the next morning, and we had permission to go shopping at Kohls to get him some clothes and then out to dinner. We ended up spending about three hours in Kohls.
Patrick tries on a hat at Kohs
Patrick helped me pick out short outfits for my grandchildren’s Easter baskets, then we shopped for clothing for him. He had changed sizes while incarcerated and had to try on a few things. A pair of tennis shoes, four pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, one shirt (couldn’t find many he liked), some boxers, and socks and we felt he had a nice start. I had already purchased him a nice pair of fleece pants, hoodie, polo, and a v-neck t-shirt prior to picking him up. During our shopping Patrick had to exit the building and stand in an open area of the parking lot so the satellite could take a picture of him/his location. He was told that happens frequently in large department stores or malls if in for a while.
Next stop was Red Lobster. Lobster Fest is going on, and we had the same meal — two different kinds of lobster and green beans with mushrooms, and of course salad and biscuits. The place was quiet, the service was good, the food was fantastic.
Dinner at Red Lobster
We were on our way home when my daughter called and said her boyfriend had the truck torn apart and needed to pick up a hose to complete it, could I swing by, pick him up and take him around the corner to the auto store. I went by her house, dropped off Patrick, picked up Rob and took him to the auto shop, then went back around and dropped off Rob and picked up Patrick and we came home and unloaded the car.
The evening was finished off with Caroline (my daughter) and her three kids coming over for a while, and then Patrick and I watched a bit of TV. It was a wonderful day for me, and I’m sure a great first day of freedom for him as well.
I was at a loss on what to write about this week. So much negativity in the news with school shootings, peace officer shootings, and of course the impact statements of victims of Larry Nassar. While we want to know what is going on in our world, and all of these items are certainly newsworthy, it still can oppress the spirit and drain you of energy.
Image and Quote found online Author unknown
Then I was online and stumbled across a cute little Good Morning image. It immediately made me smile. The visual impact of a buggy eyed frog grinning as it precariously hangs on by its feet from a tree branch is enough to bring a grin to anyone’s face. The message “Good Morning, Have a Happy Day” just says it all. Regardless of what your situation make the best of it.
We are a visual world and it seems we are constantly burdened with negative images. TV programs that we watch for relaxation are often crime or medical dramas, the news is laden with the negative rather than the positive, newspapers frequently spotlight the worst of the worst rather than the best of the best on their front pages. Even video games that our youth play are laden with crime….car jackings, gun fights, fist fights, and even sex and/or hookers can appear in these games. What kind of message is this sending? What kind of an impact is all this negative focus having on not only adults, but more importantly on children and teens?
Image and Quote found online Author unknown
Take a look at another quote I found online. This image, even without the quote, portrays sadness. The little boy wearing miss-matched clothing, walks away with his head bowed.
The visual impact is an overall feeling of desolation. The quote “Sometimes it’s better to be alone nobody can hurt you” confirms what the photo says. You wonder what happened to this little boy that he is feeling so desperate and alone. Is there abuse in the home? Is he being bullied at school? Is he lacking in friends?
The viewer’s mood is impacted by this image in a caring, sympathetic way, but the image also has a tendency to give a feeling of depression to the viewer.
Image and Quote found online Author unknown
We are a visual society. We are a society impacted by a lot of negativity in our lives. The way each person approaches life and the way they conduct themselves when dealing with others has a large impact not only on their own life, but also on that of others. It is easy to be nice, happy and courteous to a buggy eyed, smiling frog. Keep in mind that the difficult adult or child you encounter may inside be that little boy, dealing with demons you are unaware of and can not even begin to imagine. Regardless of who you are dealing with, try to be that kind, smiling frog in any situation. Be kind and courteous and maybe you can turn their attitude around in the process.
We are having our first snowfall of the year…well not really. We had a few flurries in the air a couple times earlier this year, but nothing that stuck and it has been unseasonably warm until now. We are getting dumped on.
The First Fall of Snow
So with the snow falling and sticking to the roads and people nervous as they always are on the first bad roads of the season, we had to make a 40-mile round trip to pick up my daughter from work due to her car being in for service. What are my thoughts?
People constantly refer to how bad the roads are
Some people are very nervous and drive extremely slow
Some people are idiots and drive a maniac speeds
My car appears to automatically turn of Max Defrost when it is turned off, so auto-start doesn’t give you the max benefit when used.
Heated car seats are the best
If you forgo using the brush for mittens because the snow is fluffy, you will regret it later when your mittens are wet and fingers feel cold.
Freshly fallen snow on bushes and trees with Christmas lights on them is pretty.
There is something about snow that puts you in the Christmas mood
Yikes! Only 12 days until Christmas and I’m not decorated and have more shopping to do.
Who am I kidding, I wish I were somewhere on a beach, somewhere tropical, not in the midst of a snow storm.
So, I assembled my Christmas tree last night, and I should have put the lights on tonight but it still remains naked. I’ll tackle that project tomorrow night. For tonight, I’m going to crash.
If you are in the midst of a snowstorm, stay warm.
If you are somewhere tropical, I wish we could trade places.
Summer has been rolling along nicely here in Michigan. The temperatures have been a bit up and down, but for this state that is normal. For the most part though it was summer weather, summer wear — flip flops, shorts, tank tops, and sunblock.
Then it became the last week of August. The temperature turned cooler, people were in a variety of clothing styles, an indication they weren’t quite sure what the weather was going to dole out and were making their best guess. You would see someone in shorts, then someone in pants, a tank top then a sweatshirt, sandals then boots. Why? Because even though it wasn’t “cold” it felt that way to some.
Does nature know kids are going back to school and that temperatures must drop to get children in the mood for school? Is this a system of reminding parents that if they haven’t purchased that exhaustive list of school supplies they need to handle it now? How did the school schedule get established in the September to June rotation so that children are attending during the coldest months of the season?
I have learned that our traditional September to June school schedule was established at a time when the United States was a farm-based society and children had to help with spring planting and fall harvesting of crops. The September to June schedule with three months off in the summer best suited the needs of children being able to help in the fields during the main production period with as little interference as possible in their education.
Even though we are no longer a farm-based society and industrialization has ended the time of children needing to be taken out of school to help with farm duties, the schedule has held pretty close to the traditional rotation for decades.
A number of states have tried to increase the hours of a school day, lengthen the period of time that students attend, and some have attempted a year-round school schedule. What many places have found is that increasing the number of hours a student attends also increases operating costs for the school district and many can not afford the increase.
The level of learning, length of time a student spends in school, methods for teaching, and every other aspect of education in this country is constantly being evaluated and changes made. The length of the school year is normally determined by a specific number of days or hours of instruction. One hundred eighty days (180) is the minimum required by many states, five states require more than 180 days, and five states require less than 175 days. Here in Michigan students are required to attend a minimum 180 days.
So what this all means is that it is now September and for the next 9-10 months there are certain times of day when we may be delayed by a school bus. We will see children carrying backpacks loaded down with books, lunches, and a number of other necessities for school. The rotation of school sports, PTO meetings, parent-teacher conferences, homework, report cards, and school breaks is now in session. Whether nature knows it or not, the school year has begun.
I recently had the pleasure of watching my grandchildren for a day. Time with a 2-1/2 year old, 6 year old and 11 year old always brings a few laughs and simple pleasures.
The simple days, when at six years of age it is a tragedy when your younger sister won’t share her goldfish crackers. Really? She only has a couple dozen out of an entire bag, not like there aren’t more to put into a separate bowl for him. The world is once again at peace, all thanks to a few crackers shaped like fish.
Why is it at 2-1/2 years of age you are capable of stripping all clothing off a doll more than a dozen times a day, but can never get them back on. Of course once the doll is naked it must be dressed, but Grandma must do that. The doll is dressed, life is good, until thirty minutes later when that doll is once again, for some unknown reason, naked. And the hours pass by….
Planning for my future residence, Corbin (age 6) “It would be neat if you had a really big house with a space ship on top.”
Why, I ask, would I want a house with a space ship on the top of it. The answer, according to Corbin, is simple. “Because it would be cool!”
Okay, so there you go. My retirement home floor plans are being laid out now.
When you don’t know how to respond to certain announcements, such as Austin (age 11), “Gunther is dead.”
Austin has autism, so comprehension is sometimes difficult, and he had just been dropped off after spending the weekend at his dad’s house, so with the same seriousness in which he expressed this loss I asked “who is Gunther?”
I received a very straight-faced, serious answer, “He is a Zombie.”
Sorry, I had nothing after that. I guess the death of a zombie, or the creation of a zombie due to death, has a greater impact on some than it does on me.
Alex blows bubbles
Austin enjoying the front porch
Corbin plays with the Pad
Alexandria plays with train
Prior to the kids coming over and knowing I would have just Corbin and Alexandria for lunch I checked with my daughter to see what the best food choices would be and planned accordingly. I had purchased the family size Velveeta Shells and Cheese, and let’s face it, as a general rule Mac & Cheese is a kid favorite. Apparently sometimes this is not the case.
As he sits down to eat Corbin looks at the food and says “I don’t like macaroni and cheese.”
I responded that yes he does, his mother told me he eats it all the time.
Corbin — “Not today, I’m six and sometimes we don’t like things.”
Imagine that! I thought six year olds were always logical and cooperative. Guess I got that wrong.
Blowing bubbles, that wonderful outside activity that all children love to do. The problem is Alexandria (2-1/2) simply doesn’t understand that it would be preferable if I moved the wand away from my body before she attempted to blow the bubbles right back at me. Of course that is a toss-up with the other option of letting her hold the wand herself and trying to convince her that if she didn’t put her mouth on the wand to blow, she wouldn’t get the icky tasting soap on her tongue. The results aren’t in on whether more bubble soap made it into the air as bubbles or if more ended up on our bodies due to Alex’s still to be perfected bubble-blowing technique.
Then there is the issue of cleanliness. When I informed Corbin that he is supposed to flush and wash his hands after using the bathroom he said “you know, I washed my hands yesterday.”
Good to know, can we do it today as well please. Of course this goes along with the request he wash his hands and him turning them back and forth saying “they aren’t dirty.”
Girls in that regard are so much easier. I can say “Alex your face is dirty, let’s wash it.” and she comes and stands beside me waiting to get cleaned up.
A day with children is always entertaining, enlightening, and just plain fun. Blocks, cars, trains, slides, bubbles, a messed up floor filled with toys. Cracker crumbs, candy, spilled water, and more. As the day wears on electronic pads filled with games are great for keeping children from killing each other off and/or driving an adult insane.
I was grocery shopping recently and had a craving for a childhood snack — graham crackers with frosting on them. I purchased the box of crackers and grabbed what I thought was standard chocolate frosting. Imagine my delight when I popped open that little container and discovered chocolate mint — double yum!
That got me to thinking about some of the simple things from my childhood that kids today don’t have the opportunity to experience. Back when I was a child life was more simple. Summer was spent playing outside. There weren’t any arranged play-dates set up by parents, we weren’t in day care centers, and our parents did not have us participating in scheduled activities.
We got up in the morning and walked or rode our bike to a friend’s house, rang the doorbell and asked if they could come out and play. When was the last time a child did that? Today’s children probably wouldn’t know how. We didn’t have video games, cell phones, ipads, or any of the other technology that kids today rely on. So what did we do with our time? We had fun!
A field behind the house could be trampled down into “rooms” in which we could roll out our baby carriages and play house. We would lay on our backs and look at the clouds, making determinations on what they looked like. We played Ring-Around-The-Rosie, Duck-Duck-Goose, Mother May I, Red Rover Red Rover, Tag, Kick-the-Can, and hide-and-go-seek.
We only had three TV channels, and cartoons were a Saturday morning specialty. Every kid sat in front of the TV watching their favorites. Between Saturdays we had our comic books to read. My girlfriend and I would put our comic books into the saddle baskets of our bikes, then read our comic books as we rode our bikes down the street no-handed….and we weren’t even wearing helmets!
We would sit on the porch playing jacks. At one time I was able to handle pick-ups of 20 jacks at a time. We played a lot. Do kids play jacks anymore? Are they even available to purchase? Ours were tiny metal jacks with a small red ball. What about hula hoops and pogo sticks? With a swing of the hips your hula hoop could be forced up to the neck or down to the knees and back to the waste. Regular jump rope, Chinese jump rope, and hop scotch kept us busy.
I lived in a small town. We would ride our bikes downtown and go to the library and the dime store. I did a lot of reading. Nancy Drew was my favorite, and so was Alfred Hitchcock and Agatha Christie as I got older. We bought pop in glass bottles out of a vending machine. Everyone chewed Bazooka bubble gum, and we all loved the little tiny comics that came inside. Gum wrappers were used to make chains…what we did with those chains I don’t remember.
We looked for 4-leaf clovers. Flower petals were pulled off one-by-one saying “he loves me, he loves me not.” Dandelions were held under the chin to see if your chin shone yellow, but I don’t remember why. If we found a dandelion gone to seed, a “wisher,” we were thrilled….but our father wasn’t if he saw us blowing those seeds out into the lawn.
Back then most people did not have air conditioning. Windows were open, fans were used. One strong childhood summer memory does not involve me but my father. He would mow the lawn and then afterward watch the ball game on TV. One of my favorite scents and sounds of summer is the combination of fresh mowed grass and a baseball ball game on the TV or radio.
What are some of your childhood memories? No matter how old or young you are, if you are an adult I am sure things have changed since your childhood. Do you have childhood cravings? Do you wish your children and/or grandchildren could experience life as it once was, not as it is now?
It was spring, sunshine streaming down, making everything warm, drawing me outside. The smell of freshly cut grass made me stop, pause and breath deeply, enjoying the clean scent. Someone had their windows open, I could hear a baseball game blasting on a TV.
My left arm wrapped around my textbook, American Government. The page of questions to answer, sheets of loose-leaf paper and a pencil lay on top of the book. At least I could enjoy the beautiful weather while I did my homework.
I saunter through the grass, enjoying the feel of it on my bare feet. I pick a spot under the weeping cherry tree, its branches full of pink blossoms flow back and forth in the breeze.
I let go of the book and supplies in my arm and they drop to the ground, disturbing the green grass around them. Not having been mowed yet, the blades of grass bend and curve around the folder and paper.
I cross my ankles and plop down beside my homework, landing in the grass in a cross-legged “Indian style” position.
I flip open the book and begin answering the questions…Name and define the branches of government. What are the fundamental goals of political parties? What is the Due Process Clause? On and on through twenty questions.
I throw my pencil on top of my answers, lay back on the grass and stare at the sky. The warm sun envelopes me and I slowly relax, closing my eyes. I feel the breeze grow stronger, I hear the papers in the grass beside me rustle. I open my eyes and sit up just as a gust of wind whips by, grabbing the sheet with my homework and whipping it up into the breeze.
I spring to my feet but I’m not quick enough. A dog goes running by and before I can move he catches my homework paper in his teeth as if it were a toy and continues running!
That little homework thief runs like mad, zig zagging down the road, through lawns, around bushes, dodging my attempts to catch him. Panting, I stop to catch my breath and so does he, just far enough down the road that he can make another get-away when needed. He watches me as if to say “ha-ha, beat you!”
I take a step toward the dog and he immediately takes off again. Entering the park he continues at a full run until he gets to the edge of the river. Dropping my homework at his feet, the dog stands guard over it, tongue hanging out as he pants.
The wind swirls around us, the paper flutters then lifts and before the homework thief could snatch it back I watch it fly out over the river, floating on the breeze. The speed of the wind slows, the paper drops toward the water, then by luck it lands on a log floating down the river.
As long as the homework stays on the log and I can figure out a way to catch it and retrieve the paper it will be saved. I walk along the water’s edge, keeping my eye on the log, watching it carry my homework farther and farther down river.
I hear a humm, and it is getting closer, louder. Oh no! This is not going to be good. No, not that! Hmmmmmmm, and sure enough, two jet skis come flying up river full throttle, zipping back and forth, creating a huge wake. The water sloshes back and forth, rocking everything in its path.
The log that is transporting my homework rocks back and forth under the pressure of the rolling river water. The log spins, twists, and my homework flies off the log and floats down into the cresting waves. Soaked with water, it spins and twists in the beating waves, slowly sinking into the water until it is no longer visible. Gone forever, wrecked and sunken at the bottom of the river.
So, that is why I don’t have my homework. It was caught in the wind, stolen by a dog, carried to the river’s edge, blown out over the water and onto a log that got caught in the tossing and turning wake of jet skis and then sunk to its death in the bottom of the river.
The teacher looked at me in disbelief. Eyebrows raised, lips pursed, and a grin slowly kept across her face.
“That story is so farfetched it has to be true.”
Now what do you think, did this really happen or do I have a very vivid imagination?
Author’s Note: I received a writer’s prompt in my email, which is something designed to get your creative juices flowing. Usually they don’t inspire me because I am normally a non-fiction writer, but this one intrigued me and I thought “why not?” After all, it is a well-known excuse and the challenge was to come up with an elaborate story as to what happened to your homework because the teacher didn’t believe the typical “my dog ate my homework” excuse. A fun break from my normal type of post.
Think back to when you were a child and the magic that Christmas held. The excitement and anticipation of a visit from Santa. The traditions that went with the season.
Remember getting toy wish books? Once they arrived my sister and I would pour over them for hours, looking, looking again, and writing out lists of what we wanted for Christmas. Inevitably the list was lengthy and mom would say we needed to shorten it down…the agony of it all!
Traditions of the holiday stand out in my mind. Making Christmas cookies and decorating them, followed by eating them for breakfast as we opened gifts. Decorating the house was always fun. In the early years we would trudge through the snow at a Christmas tree farm to find the perfect tree, which Dad would then saw down. Of course they always looked smaller in the woods then they did in the living room. One year Mom kept saying the trees were too small. The “perfect” one had to be sawed considerably shorter after Dad brought it in the house, not to mention the fact that it was so big around it stuck out about one-third of the way into the living room from the corner where it stood. It was huge!
Dad would put the tree into a stand and then we would have to let it sit for 24 hours to let the branches “drop” as the tree warmed up. After that the decorating could begin…lights, ornaments, garland, and icicles. The tree decorating was usually stretched out over several days, as we were in school and Mom also worked during the day. Evenings were spent viewing the tree, seeing a spot in need of an ornament and then finding the perfect one to fit that area.
When Hallmark began their dated ornaments Mom started a tradition of purchasing a dated ornament for my sister and I every year. Those were wonderful to have as we got married and moved out and many of those oldies hang on my tree every year. When I had kids I kept the tradition, purchasing each of them a dated ornament every year…something I continue to do even now when they are 28 and 32 years old. Of course I also purchase one every year for each of my grandchildren. My daughter has also tried to maintain the tradition with her children.
Christmas morning when growing up was always fun. The discovery of wrapped gifts under the tree. Going through our Christmas stockings to see what small hidden treasures were there. Then of course spending the rest of the day playing with new games, reading new books. Enjoying a day of family fun.
Over time childhood moved into teen years, and we no longer believe. Gifts become more useful. Then we become adults and Christmas is nice, but something is missing, at least for a while. All good things come to an end…or do they?
Eventually we get married, have children, and the fun starts again. This time we hold the magic and enjoy watching a child’s eyes sparkle with excitement when they talk about their Christmas wishes, Santa Clause and the fun of the holiday activities. We relive the magic through the eyes of our children.
Too soon our children grow, become teens, grow into adults and move out on their own and Christmas once again lacks the magic, at least for a little while. Then the grandchildren are born and the cycle begins again.
No matter how old you are, keep the magic. If you have no children or grandchildren, go where there are children. Watch the lines for Santa, volunteer at organizations that cater to children, work at a toy give-away, contact charity organizations and volunteer your services. Keep the magic alive.
Keep the Spirit * Keep the Magic
Look at Christmas through the eyes of a child
When I was starting this blog I struggled with a theme. Most people stick to one particular topic in their blogs, but I like to write about a variety of things because I am involved in a wide range of things in my daily life. That is when it hit me, my life is a melting pot of activities and that would be the topic and theme of my blog. LIFE IS A MELTING POT covers anything and everything. My activities as a photographer, our families involvement with CPS/DHS, travel, genealogy, family events, work, or any other topic that I feel is worthy of comment. I hope you enjoy the blog, comment often, and become a follower/subscriber.
Along with tree decorating traditions, most of us grew up with the magic of Santa Clause. Saint Nicholas was a Christian holy person believed to have lived in the third century, who became known as a protector of children. The bearded, jolly Santa dressed in red that first appeared in Clement Moore’s A Visit from Saint Nicholas in 1820. Thomas Nast was an artist who’s first major depiction of Santa Claus in Harper’s Weekly in 1886 created the image we envision today. Nast contributed 33 Christmas drawings to Harper’s Weekly between 1863 to 1886, and Santa is seen or referenced in all but one. It is Nast who was instrumental in standardizing a national image of a jolly, kind and portly Santa dressed in a red, fur-trimmed suit delivering toys from his North Pole workshop.
I have very rarely seen my grandson, Corbin, with a clean face. I think it is magnetic and attracts dirt, all he has to do is walk across a room and it zeros in on him. Thinking back to when my son was growing up, there were all kinds of messes and things going on that bring to life the saying “boys will be boys.”
We would sit on the porch playing jacks. At one time I was able to handle pick-ups of 20 jacks at a time. We played a lot. Do kids play jacks anymore? Are they even available to purchase? Ours were tiny metal jacks with a small red ball. What about hula hoops and pogo sticks? With a swing of the hips your hula hoop could be forced up to the neck or down to the knees and back to the waste. Regular jump rope, Chinese jump rope, and hop scotch kept us busy.
Back then most people did not have air conditioning. Windows were open, fans were used. One strong childhood summer memory does not involve me but my father. He would mow the lawn and then afterward watch the ball game on TV. One of my favorite scents and sounds of summer is the combination of fresh mowed grass and a baseball ball game on the TV or radio.
Eventually we get married, have children, and the fun starts again. This time we hold the magic and enjoy watching a child’s eyes sparkle with excitement when they talk about their Christmas wishes, Santa Clause and the fun of the holiday activities. We relive the magic through the eyes of our children.
--- LIFE IS A MELTING POT --- Grace Grogan...Writer, Photographer 