Here it is Sunday evening. I spent a few hours today on the El Tigre site on MyFamily.com.....even used it to see that my brother was onsite and called him to tell him that I was adding my two cents to the site. He had been after me to add my memories to all the rest. This is the last Sunday before Christmas 2008. This year has flown by. We have had our ups and downs in the family, but with God's help we have made it through another year.
2008 - makes me feel old for some reason. I have been thinking of so many Christmases past. Those that I celebrated in Iowa, those that I celebrated in California and finally those that I celebrated in Maryland. Each and everyone was different, but there is one tradition that I have carried through all the ones that I can remember. Oyster stew. Christmas Eve is not Christmas Eve without oyster stew. It all started when I was very small - we spent Christmas Eve with the Sievert side of the family. We would all meet at Grandpa and Grandma's house after going to church. There was all sorts of food to eat (oyster stew being the one thing that was the same every year) and "kickapoo joy juice" to drink. The stew I can make - the "kickapoo joy juice" is something else again. I have no idea exactly what my grandma did to make it but it was good. The secret died with my grandmother.
Once again we have dodged a big weather bullet - I really don't think that there is going to be a white Christmas even though foul weather is predicted. It is, however, very windy and quite cold outside. My wind chimes are playing music like crazy - I so love to listen to them.
So far I have managed to mail my gifts to the family contingent in California and to my other out-of-state friends. I have typed up the major portion of my Christmas letter and delivered it via electronic mail. I have a few to add info to and then put them in "snail mail". Should be at their destinations by Christmas. Then I have the family gifts to wrap and put under the tree. I will be done before Christmas this year. This in itself is a miracle for me.
The tree has been up since the early part of December. We wanted to have Terry's help putting it up so we had to get it done before he had knee surgery on December 11. He goes back to work tomorrow and as much as he grouses about his job I think that he is glad to be going back. The doctor had to remove floating pieces of cartilege etc. to help his knee to work better.
Hope that everyone has a happy holiday season - may the new year be a blessed and prosperous one.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Thanksgiving Day Talk with my brother
My little brother called me on Turkey Day - we spent almost an hour on the phone. This is probably the longest that we have talked in a very long time. We spent most of that time remembering way back when - I was even remembering things that came before his time. He was conceived in Iowa, but born in California. So we made the trip from Iowa to California at the same time, just not in the same way. Columbus Day, 1955 was the day that we hit Donner Pass - at that time the road was two lanes (one way in each direction) and no gaurd rails to keep you from sliding down the mountain if you left the road. My very first experience with "really scary" mountain roads - what a welcome to your new home.
We (or I should say I) talked about family in Iowa - Grandparents, Uncles, Aunts, and cousins. Iowa was a happy time for me - I loved my grandparents very much as I lived with them most of the time because grandma took care of me while mom worked - my mother was ahead of the times and was a working mom. She worked as the linotypist for the town newspaper, which just happened to be owned by grandpa and run by Uncle Butch (my mother's brother).
I talked about Richfield and why we moved to California in the first place (Iowa held no future for my dad and Uncle Max said come here and I will find you a job - a furniture factory as it turned out). Six weeks after "Lil Bro" was born we moved to the mountains - that is where most of his memories start.
The mountains was where our parents planted their roots and raised us. It was rough at times. After working in Sloat (a saw mill) as a scaler (he measured how many board feet each log would make) he started with the Forest Service. The first three years he was a probationary employee which meant that he was laid off for the winter - that is when I learned the venison, fish and once in a while a goose were staples in our lives. Our first house in the mountains was at Parkers = you look over the railing of the front porch and you were looking down into the ravine at the river (Feather River). We later moved to Graeagle and started a whole new chapter in our lives.
We were remembering all the people that lived around us - the Kurdupskis, Mrs. Sawtell, the Colliers, the Souths, Willie Burns and his wife and the Bethurams (sp?) and so many more. It is funny just how many things can pop into your mind at the mere mention of a name or place.
It is funny, we were wondering what had happened to the South family the other day and today when I opened my e-mails there was a message from Gwen South, who now lives in Utah with her husband and two kids. That was a nice surprise. I am hoping that we can start communicating and get to know one another again. We spent quite a bit of one or two summers on my front porch playing the games of clue or canasta -
This is how I spent part of my Thanksgiving - besides eating a nice meal with my family here in Maryland I had a nice time talking with my brother - hope that this is a trend that will continue. We only have each other now and it would be nice to get to know each other again - he was eight when I left home to never return on a permanent basis. There have only been visits since then and many miles in between.
We (or I should say I) talked about family in Iowa - Grandparents, Uncles, Aunts, and cousins. Iowa was a happy time for me - I loved my grandparents very much as I lived with them most of the time because grandma took care of me while mom worked - my mother was ahead of the times and was a working mom. She worked as the linotypist for the town newspaper, which just happened to be owned by grandpa and run by Uncle Butch (my mother's brother).
I talked about Richfield and why we moved to California in the first place (Iowa held no future for my dad and Uncle Max said come here and I will find you a job - a furniture factory as it turned out). Six weeks after "Lil Bro" was born we moved to the mountains - that is where most of his memories start.
The mountains was where our parents planted their roots and raised us. It was rough at times. After working in Sloat (a saw mill) as a scaler (he measured how many board feet each log would make) he started with the Forest Service. The first three years he was a probationary employee which meant that he was laid off for the winter - that is when I learned the venison, fish and once in a while a goose were staples in our lives. Our first house in the mountains was at Parkers = you look over the railing of the front porch and you were looking down into the ravine at the river (Feather River). We later moved to Graeagle and started a whole new chapter in our lives.
We were remembering all the people that lived around us - the Kurdupskis, Mrs. Sawtell, the Colliers, the Souths, Willie Burns and his wife and the Bethurams (sp?) and so many more. It is funny just how many things can pop into your mind at the mere mention of a name or place.
It is funny, we were wondering what had happened to the South family the other day and today when I opened my e-mails there was a message from Gwen South, who now lives in Utah with her husband and two kids. That was a nice surprise. I am hoping that we can start communicating and get to know one another again. We spent quite a bit of one or two summers on my front porch playing the games of clue or canasta -
This is how I spent part of my Thanksgiving - besides eating a nice meal with my family here in Maryland I had a nice time talking with my brother - hope that this is a trend that will continue. We only have each other now and it would be nice to get to know each other again - he was eight when I left home to never return on a permanent basis. There have only been visits since then and many miles in between.
My family
My son does not want his picture published on the internet in any way shape or form---so I will post a picture of the one member of my family that does not care one way or the other. She joined the family during the ealy summer of 2004 just a few months before Paul died. He was not really fond of cats, but he made an exception for this one - I do have to admit that she was cute and very cool as a kitten......her name is Scooter by the way. She had a way of scooting all around the house when she was small.
As you can tell by the look in her eye she can be an evil thing (witch with a "b" is what I was going to say). She will be sitting my lap, purring away when the next thing I know she is wrapping herself around my arm and laying into me with all of her claws and teeth. She has left her mark on my arms and legs - no doubting the fact that I have a cat. She is approximately 15 pounds of trouble who has her claws clipped once a month by the vet. There is no way that I would attempt to do it myself. As it is she has gained quite a rep with vet - the people up there wear heavy leather gloves or wrap her in layers of towels. Rightly so I might add. She can be a witch, but she is my witch.......
As you can tell by the look in her eye she can be an evil thing (witch with a "b" is what I was going to say). She will be sitting my lap, purring away when the next thing I know she is wrapping herself around my arm and laying into me with all of her claws and teeth. She has left her mark on my arms and legs - no doubting the fact that I have a cat. She is approximately 15 pounds of trouble who has her claws clipped once a month by the vet. There is no way that I would attempt to do it myself. As it is she has gained quite a rep with vet - the people up there wear heavy leather gloves or wrap her in layers of towels. Rightly so I might add. She can be a witch, but she is my witch.......
Home Sweet Home
This is my house as of the first of November. Mother Nature was trying to decide if she wanted fall or spring. The leaves were changing to fall colors, but my spring flowers (climatis and petunias) were in full bloom. As you can see I am into Pennsylvania Dutch hex signs (more pics later) and I am proud to say that the shutters were designed and handmade by yours truly. The colors and design were taken from my hex signs. I can truthfully say that I am the only one in the neighborhood (in fact the town) with yellow shutters. They were my very first project after I retired. Took me a couple of weeks to do and the carpenter who replaced my windows was nice enough to put them up for me. Terry is not all that thrilled with them but "tough noogies" -- it is my house and I like them.
This is so neat - the very first pics that I have attached. I learn something new everyday. One day I will locate my book about hex signs and tell you what the signs mean - all I can remember now is that they are two different designs for a bird called distlefink and they usually stand for good luck and happy things. I don't particularly like the ones that ward off evil spirits - they are not at colorful or as pretty.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Down Memory Lane
I have just spent a good portion of my day on MyFamily.com (the ElTigre page) looking at old photos and seeing who else has signed on. There were almost 200 pages of photos to look at. Most of them were of people that I did not know personally, but did recognize their names. This is a "neat" website and it brought back a lot of memories. I guess that I am going to have to go through my old photos and see what I can come up with just so I can make sure that me and my family leave their mark in the history of PHS. I graduated in 1964 and my brother graduated ten years later.
I did not join the Portola family until the fifth grade (most of the members of my class went to school from one through twelve). The pictures of the people that were in my class really gave me a start. I have a hard enough time remembering how they looked way back when, but now I have to see those young people in older faces. All of a sudden I realized just how much I have changed over the years. I look at pictures from when I graduated (1964) and wonder how I ever got to where I am at today - a grey haired retiree starting a new phase of her life.
I saw a picture of the guy that was the object of my first junior high crush. He did not know that I existed and truth be told I was probably better off for it, but that is hindsight talking. My trip down memory lane led me to remember that my date for the spring formal (7th grade) was the very same person that was my boyfried and date to my senior prom. Of course the years in between (8 -11) he was someone else's boyfriend and I did not have a boyfriend at all. I was what you would call a "wall flower" and was always the person whose name you may have known, but was always in the background and unheard from. I was never an outgoing person and thus never a member of the "in crowd".
I had my own group of friends however - I guess we were what the youngster today call geeks. We spent our time getting an education (the smart ones who did their best to make grading curves hard) and being the "worker bees" on the committees who got very little acknowledgement for our participation. I must be frank - there is actually very little that I remember about my years at PHS.
I remember some of my teachers - Miss Corbin (Corbi) who taught art and gym, Mr. Bibb who taught English, Mr. Thompson who taught band and English, Miss Christopherson who taught typing and accounting, Mr. Donninwirth who taught driver's ed, Mr. Cimaglia who taught geography, Mr. Popish who taught science and Mr. Rowden who taught math just to name a few. Each and every one of these teachers and all of the others did their level best to make sure that we learned all that we would need to make it in the real world after we graduated. They were fairly successful with regard to me.
I remember certain other things i.e. making dinner for our parents (a home ec project) - I was in charge of cooking the sweet potatoes with the pressure cooker - i opened it too soon and the sweet potatoes ended up on the ceiling before they made it to the dinner plates. I was also part of the group that made dessert (homemade ice cream), which activity made an appearance in the yearbook that year (a pic of me sitting on an ice cream maker while the handle was being turned).
I remember pep rallies for football games and basketball games but not the games because I lived ten miles out of town and did not have transportation back and forth. I remember exactly where I was the day that Kennedy was shot - in my math class - and who told us - Mrs. Parrish the school secretary. It was senior slave day and it turned out to be a bummer.
Like I said before I remember my first spring formal (7th grade and the last dance was to the tennessee waltz) and my senior prom (SAWADII was the theme) when I wore a red velvet dress and red velvet heels with rhinestone heart. (I still have those shoes after all these years - don't fit anymore but I can't bring myself to give them up.) By the way, SAWADII is hello/goodbye in Thai. This was in honor of our exchange student Polly Pesalapan (ph) from Thailand.
I also remember that I when I was a sophomore I went to the junior prom with Jerry Thomas. A tall "drink of water" that was sweet as sweet could be. He was another one of us geeks. A super nice guy that honored me by asking me to his junior prom. Unfortunately less than a few months after he graduated from high school in 1963 he was killed in an automobile accident coming home from college. The car was driven by his best friend Stark Hunter whose life was forever changed. I don't think that he ever forgave himselt for being the driver.
I remember the school bus driver that I had for my entire scholastic career in Portola - Jim Burton. I used to complain about the brakes squealing - he would say "this way I know they are working, start worrying when you don't hear them". He would often hollar at me "Hemping be quiet" - not that I was all that noisy, my voice just carried over everyone elses. He was also a stickler for being on time. You were at your bus stop on time or you got left behind. He waited for no one. We never missed a day of school for any reason - no broken down buses, driver sick, or weather of any kind. He was a good man and got us back and forth to school promptly and safely for many years. He was a credit to school bus drivers everywhere.
Well, between looking at old pictures, sending a message of thanks to a beloved teacher and writing this entry, I have managed while away a whole afternoon. This grey day was a little brighter because of these activities. This being retired allows me to do these things and not feel guilty about the time spent doing them - this is going to be fun.......till next time!!!
I did not join the Portola family until the fifth grade (most of the members of my class went to school from one through twelve). The pictures of the people that were in my class really gave me a start. I have a hard enough time remembering how they looked way back when, but now I have to see those young people in older faces. All of a sudden I realized just how much I have changed over the years. I look at pictures from when I graduated (1964) and wonder how I ever got to where I am at today - a grey haired retiree starting a new phase of her life.
I saw a picture of the guy that was the object of my first junior high crush. He did not know that I existed and truth be told I was probably better off for it, but that is hindsight talking. My trip down memory lane led me to remember that my date for the spring formal (7th grade) was the very same person that was my boyfried and date to my senior prom. Of course the years in between (8 -11) he was someone else's boyfriend and I did not have a boyfriend at all. I was what you would call a "wall flower" and was always the person whose name you may have known, but was always in the background and unheard from. I was never an outgoing person and thus never a member of the "in crowd".
I had my own group of friends however - I guess we were what the youngster today call geeks. We spent our time getting an education (the smart ones who did their best to make grading curves hard) and being the "worker bees" on the committees who got very little acknowledgement for our participation. I must be frank - there is actually very little that I remember about my years at PHS.
I remember some of my teachers - Miss Corbin (Corbi) who taught art and gym, Mr. Bibb who taught English, Mr. Thompson who taught band and English, Miss Christopherson who taught typing and accounting, Mr. Donninwirth who taught driver's ed, Mr. Cimaglia who taught geography, Mr. Popish who taught science and Mr. Rowden who taught math just to name a few. Each and every one of these teachers and all of the others did their level best to make sure that we learned all that we would need to make it in the real world after we graduated. They were fairly successful with regard to me.
I remember certain other things i.e. making dinner for our parents (a home ec project) - I was in charge of cooking the sweet potatoes with the pressure cooker - i opened it too soon and the sweet potatoes ended up on the ceiling before they made it to the dinner plates. I was also part of the group that made dessert (homemade ice cream), which activity made an appearance in the yearbook that year (a pic of me sitting on an ice cream maker while the handle was being turned).
I remember pep rallies for football games and basketball games but not the games because I lived ten miles out of town and did not have transportation back and forth. I remember exactly where I was the day that Kennedy was shot - in my math class - and who told us - Mrs. Parrish the school secretary. It was senior slave day and it turned out to be a bummer.
Like I said before I remember my first spring formal (7th grade and the last dance was to the tennessee waltz) and my senior prom (SAWADII was the theme) when I wore a red velvet dress and red velvet heels with rhinestone heart. (I still have those shoes after all these years - don't fit anymore but I can't bring myself to give them up.) By the way, SAWADII is hello/goodbye in Thai. This was in honor of our exchange student Polly Pesalapan (ph) from Thailand.
I also remember that I when I was a sophomore I went to the junior prom with Jerry Thomas. A tall "drink of water" that was sweet as sweet could be. He was another one of us geeks. A super nice guy that honored me by asking me to his junior prom. Unfortunately less than a few months after he graduated from high school in 1963 he was killed in an automobile accident coming home from college. The car was driven by his best friend Stark Hunter whose life was forever changed. I don't think that he ever forgave himselt for being the driver.
I remember the school bus driver that I had for my entire scholastic career in Portola - Jim Burton. I used to complain about the brakes squealing - he would say "this way I know they are working, start worrying when you don't hear them". He would often hollar at me "Hemping be quiet" - not that I was all that noisy, my voice just carried over everyone elses. He was also a stickler for being on time. You were at your bus stop on time or you got left behind. He waited for no one. We never missed a day of school for any reason - no broken down buses, driver sick, or weather of any kind. He was a good man and got us back and forth to school promptly and safely for many years. He was a credit to school bus drivers everywhere.
Well, between looking at old pictures, sending a message of thanks to a beloved teacher and writing this entry, I have managed while away a whole afternoon. This grey day was a little brighter because of these activities. This being retired allows me to do these things and not feel guilty about the time spent doing them - this is going to be fun.......till next time!!!
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