Teens...back in the day...

When you you think of a bunch of teen girls getting together for a slumber party... do you think of  Teenage Ninja Knitters???  (Thanks for that term, Cheryl)  No, I didn't think so.

Nancy S. gave me a short stack of photos from "back in the day," and I must say I did NOT remember getting the gang together to chat, eat snacks, laugh, and KNIT!!  What the heck?  Did we really do that? 

The 60's party was at my house.  Here we are in what we referred to as the "back room," and in the photo you see two of the 6 invited. What else was there to do?  We had no local theaters or bowling alleys ... no soda shops ... and no video tapes or DVR's.  We may have listened to some 45's on my little record player...but for sure, we knitted for fun... the proof is in the picture! 

We girls were all in Pep Club together and spent many weekends at basketball games, chanting cheers and singing the school song and the fight song... in harmony, by the way! These girls have continued to be friends, long past our parting at graduation.  They were the best... and if they were all willing to knit at a slumber party...they've got to be extra special!!

School is back in session...

...But I couldn't be happier out of the classroom!  I enjoyed that long chapter of my life, but am so glad to have turned the page.

This post is putting a spotlight on a memorable year in our school's history.  We were able to build a brand new building for our 6-12 students, and the rooms were ready in August of 1994.  The old building was falling down around us, and I was ready to spend my working hours in a modern building!! (My old room had two electrical outlets: one in the front of the room, and one in back.)  So here I am, probably having finished getting my room ready for the first day of school.

I also taught Drama and directed our productions.  Our first dinner-theatre production on the new stage was "Stop And I'll Catch You," a two-act comedy of the roaring twenties, by Bill Van Horn.  The show had a cast of 24.  As you can see, I had some tough female characters...and some guys (Government Agents) dressed as flappers to catch the gangsters. What fun times! 

Kelli G., Rebekah P., Heather J. (a female gang)

Ryan M., Jade H., Lance S., Micah V.

A peek into the past...

This photo is of my mom singing a solo with me on the piano, accompanying. It dates back to 1975, and we are in the grade school lunchroom, although I'm not sure of the occasion.  It obviously took place when we had warm weather, based on how we're dressed. Perhaps it was entertainment for a  function or a special tribute to someone.

 Mom was often asked to sing for special occasions, and I loved it when I could accompany her.  She had a beautifully rich contralto voice, and mostly focused on art songs or inspirational/religious solos, as she was soloist in church for many years.

I loved the story she told that when I was a baby, she would sing me lullabies, but I must not have liked it, because I would  commence crying immediately. Wouldn't you know, it hurt her feelings.  So, when I was a toddler, she started taking voice lessons from an accomplished vocalist (who had spent much of his career on the east coast), and she worked very diligently. For a few years, she also took piano lessons (from the postmaster's wife).  She must have surrounded herself in music,  focusing on improving her skills.  She soon started singing publicly and continued with voice lessons for several years. I well remember waiting for her, listening on the couch, soaking it all in.

At the age of 5, I decided I wanted to learn to play the piano too.  Mom knew just enough to get me started, and began teaching me the basics.  Whenever I was ready for a new song or skill, Mom just made time to work with me. She was like that.  I may have had several "lessons" in one week, based on my progress.  Now I understand how very lucky I was to have that kind of attention!  When I began playing beyond her skills, she made sure I had other teachers.  Some I liked; some I didn't!  It caused some tearful trips home from lessons, but Mom would not let me even consider quitting. 

Looking back, I'm so glad I could eventually accompany her solos on the piano and organ.  Those were extra special times together. I can only imagine what it must have felt like as a Mom who nurtured her daughter's talent.  She set a great example.  I'm quite sure that's why I find such joy in helping young musicians discover and enjoy their talents.

Just make it through February...

Yes, if you can bear the cold temps of January and February, you've got it made!  Typically, our WY winter temps dip below zero pretty regularly during these two months, and then it's much more bearable until spring arrives.

Since this is my first winter of not working a steady job, I have been thinking about what these long winter months felt like. I remember December through February like this:

Get up in the dark. Drive to work in the dark. Work in artificial light all day. Get a couple breaths of fresh air on my way to and from the parking lot.  Drive home in the dark. Watch out for deer!!!

Attend a lot of basketball games and help man the concession stand on occasion.

"Turn in your work!"  Grade papers, grade papers, grade papers.

Write a variety of winter poetry with the students, recalling the beauty or the beast of winter.  Hey, let's have some fun learning to use figurative language!  Share Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening." I love that poem, and it's so beautiful to recite.  By the way, I refuse to believe it was written with dark, suicidal implications!

Teach Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" to freshmen and let ourselves get immersed in the history of Medieval and Renaissance England. The dark, cold castles and unsanitary conditions seemed a little easier to imagine during our winter months. Come on, let's try our hand at writing on parchment in Shakespearean style! 

For several years, I went snow skiing in Jackson a few weekends during the season.  But that meant getting up really early to be on a big yellow bus at 4:00 a.m. to ride 3 hours to Jackson with the high school ski club.  Ski hard until the lifts closed at 4:00 p.m. and then climb back on the bus, squeeze into the seat with all my gear, thaw out, recall challenging runs and falls with my skiing buddies,  and maybe catch a few winks before getting home at 9:00 p.m.  What a LONG day.  Was I CRAZY?  But I did see the sun and got a little exercise!

Early in my career I also drove a van full of kids all over the state on weekends for speech meets. Leave early, drive 1-4 hours to get there, coach kids, judge a few rounds, celebrate and console, and then drive them home.  LONG day.  Was I CRAZY?  But I did see the sun and got out of town...on slick/snowy roads!

Teacher friends would occasionally plan something fun in the winter,  like a progressive dinner party or a wild Christmas party.  And thank goodness we all had some funny experiences in the classroom or with kids on trips.  That helped keep us sane.

But really, I couldn't wait until the days got longer and we came out of the deep freeze.   If we could just make it through February...

Oh, excuse me, I've got to go out and haul in some dry wood; we're expecting snow tonight.

First Car

Ok, here's the question of the day: What was your first car?  Let's say the first one you purchased on your own.

Learning to drive, I was put behind the wheel of my Dad's Jeep CJ7, and he took me out on country roads to learn to shift gears.  It was boxy, drafty, noisy unit that went about 50 at top speed.  I got to take it to the movies, ball games, and concerts with a friend, and I was tickled to have something to drive. I also learned to tow the boat and to back it up into the garage.  (That little task had a long learning curve...forward, back, forward, back, grrrrr, sigh, deep breath, forward, back...) Eventually, I got to drive the family station wagon, which was an automatic, and that was a nice ride.  I also learned to drive the red Ford truck. No power steering...how did I do it? 

When I graduated from college, my grandma gave me her car, a little 2-door Chevy, which she had run into a power pole and would no longer be driving!  It was an older model, not too spiffy, and I'm not sure the suspension was ever right again, but as long as I had "wheels," I was absolutely thrilled and very grateful.That got me back and forth to work for a couple of years.

After getting a steady job and a little money saved up, I finally bought my first car: a Honda Civic.  I laugh at the price now, but at the time $4200.00 was a big investment for me.  (The extra $200 was for the radio!)  It was dark blue, shiny, had plenty of room, standard shift, and handled well on the road.  It was my first experience with front wheel drive, and on slick/bad roads, it was just the ticket!  It took me a lot a miles and was very reliable.

This is not a picture of my car, but of one much like it. 

In a story-telling workshop I took many moons ago, the instructor told us that this kind of info is part of "our story" and we should share these stories with our families.  We were asked if we knew about our parents' first cars; and if not, why not?  Interesting, eh?  I suspect there are lots of great stories about "first cars."

Nostalgia

“Neigh, Neigh!” Oh, how I loved to imitate the sound made by a horse.  

 This old black and white photo was taken in the mid- 50’s and brings back faint memories of homemade toys.

This “rocking horse” was made by one of my dad’s relatives, but I don’t remember which uncle actually engineered and built it for us. The horse was painted red.  Because of its design, it had a little different gait; that up and down motion was so relaxing to me.  It was a favorite homemade toy.  My brother, being two years younger, couldn’t ride it by himself at this point, and I hope I took full advantage of that!  I didn’t realize how competitive things would get as he got older.

This picture was taken in the back yard. A white picket fence enclosed the yard.  The  cottonwood tree grew to be quite a bit bigger, and we hung a swing from its branches in later years.  The spindly aspen trees must not have made it, because I don’t remember them at all.  The grass looks a bit long, uneven, and rather scraggly; my parents may have been trying to get a lawn established at this point, but this end of the yard always needed more attention.  

 Just to the left of the photo is where our wire clothesline was located.  So on a summer’s day, if I wasn’t riding my horse in the yard, I was probably helping mom hang the laundry. 

Nostalgia - a Card Party in the 1950's

Mom and Dad holding me and my brother for a picture on the doorstep.

Growing up in the late 50’s, I have fond memories of my parents going to card parties once a month on Saturday night. Eight couples regularly met to play pinochle, and each family took their turn to host the party in their living room. Sometimes it was a pretty tight squeeze to find enough room to set up 4 tables for cards, but they always found a way.

 At my house, the routine started with getting the house ready for company. The card tables were set up and covered with pretty tablecloths.   Mom always set out a bowl of candy on each table, and she made a dessert which was served on clear, cut-glass dessert plates that have a spot for a matching coffee cup. She set out matching sugar and creamer sets. Oh, and there were fancy napkins too. At an early age I began to associate the rich aroma of brewing coffee with hosting company, as my parents were never big coffee drinkers at home.  I always loved the smell, but never asked to taste it.  Also, when we were young (preschool age) Mom told my brother and me that the candy was just for adults, and we were OK with that.  (Can you believe it???)

It was fun to be at the kitchen door and help welcome everyone in as they arrived.  The men were usually attired in nice dress shirts, often with a bolo tie, and either casual slacks or new blue jeans.  The women wore short party dresses, some rather fancy and some more casual.  It was a social event!

 I can remember that all the adults enjoyed getting together, relaxing after a long week of hard work, loving the opportunity to share some stories and kid around.  Ray used to accuse my mom, who was quite a good card player, of having a neck like a goose because she could see his hand of cards from just about anywhere.  Phyllis’ husband would call her “Toots,” and I found that hilarious.  Sometimes the bidding would get interesting and cause for loud reactions, and sometimes a whole table would erupt in laughter or whoops of victory.  Inevitably, there would be someone who was having a tough night:  the good cards just wouldn’t fall for them. 

Maybe half-way through the party, it would be bedtime for my brother and me.  I have vivid memories of listening to the conversations and laughter, muffled through the closed bedroom door.  It was the “white noise” of the 50’s which lulled us peacefully to sleep.