I promise I’m NOT going to share 56 birthday memories, my present birthday is still unfolding, very peacefully and nicely, and I don’t remember my first few. I am often asked if I feel gypped because my birthday is right after Christmas, no, and I’ll tell you why.
I loved my grandparents very much. They moved from NJ to the suburbs of Boston when I was quite young. So every Christmas they would come and spend a week or so with us. This meant that I was the only child in the family that had the pleasure of having my grandparents at our home during my birthday.
This is a simple memory that just popped into my mind as I was digging through my cleaning products getting ready to clean the bathroom and came upon a bottle of silver cleaner.
When I was a child, each year at Christmas we used the good silverware, and each year, it needed to be polished. There was also the silver salt and pepper shaker. I remember my grandmother being present for this, as my grandparents came from a suburb of Boston to spend Christmas with us each year.
We would sit around the table, and rub the pink silver cleaner into the silverware and other silver items that needed cleaning for the meal, that was my part of the job. Then I suppose it was rinsed, and then we took a clean, dry cloth and rubbed each piece into a shiny luster.
It’s funny how the simplest of things can bring such memories. We don’t use real silver in our home, and I imagine it is a thing of the past for many, but maybe I’m wrong? Do you use silver and fine china for your special meals?
I remember when Dad purchased his first Reel to Reel Tape Player, it was a Sony, and my Dad was quite excited about it. My parents were pretty careful not to run out and get the latest thing that was out in the market, so when we finally did get something, it was an event…I won’t tell you how long it was before they purchased their first color television.
Anyway, the reel-to-reel was quite something at that time, because now, not only could you listen, but you could record your own voice and hear yourself! This was a big deal, and who doesn’t like to hear themselves? My parents listened to classical music all the time, and that was what they played, but we also listened to dramatizations, that were only played during the holidays.
Another fun memory I have is of making what we fondly, as a family, called “Grammy Tapes”, they were tapes that we all said a little something on, then put in the mail to my grandparents who lived in the suburbs of Boston, Mass. We usually did this on a Sunday, it wasn’t as fun as just saying whatever you wanted on tape, it was more organized and formal, all of us sitting in a row along the couch, and saying our piece, then listening to ourselves, and wishing we sounded better.
My grandmother suffered a stroke when I was in my teens, and even after I was married, I took a smaller, portable tape player and read to my grandmother by tape, and mailed them to her, anything to bring her some joy!
Unlike many children’s programs today, or even of my childhood days, Captain Kangaroo was a calm, easy-going program. The “Kangaroo” part of the name came from those large pockets in Captain’s suit. The actor, Bob Keeshan, was only 28 years old when he started to co-produce the show. The show began it’s run in 1955, when I was only a few years old, and continued into the 1980’s…when I was in my 20’s…of course, I had long since stopped watching:-)
I remember well Mr. Green Jeans; the puppet, Bunny Rabbit; Mr. Moose with his knock-knock jokes and ping-pong ball shower; the Magic Drawing Board and many other things that made the show what it was, quiet entertainment while eating breakfast.
We lived in the same home on Gurley Road in Nixon, New Jersey, which is in Edison Twp., NJ, until I was 14 years old, and ready to start high school. Then we moved to Bergen County, NJ, to an older somewhat historic home (the stones made by a bricklayer right next door to the house we lived in) with a fireplace. As the oldest, with 4 years between each of us, the youngest was 4 at that time.
I remember how lighting the fireplace was something new and special for all of us. Every now and then we would cook hot dogs on the fire. We made our own long hot-dog-holders with coat hangers, and held our hot dogs over the fire until they sizzled and were ready to eat.
Hot dogs were not the only things we cooked over the fire, we also enjoyed marshmallows now and then, just like sitting around the campfire right in the living room. I’m glad my parents were not so concerned about formality and allowed for simple fun like this…when was the last time you cooked anything in your fireplace?
Published by admin under Mischief on
December 1, 2007
Yes, that’s what we were called back then when we were bad, “naughty”, I guess it’s still a word that parents use. Especially this time of year, with Christmas on the way, and Santa determining whether to give you gifts based upon whether you have been “naughty or nice”. When I was young, you could expect some coal in your stocking if you were naughty…is that still true today? Some of you parents who may be reading this can comment and let me know, I’m between parenting and waiting for Grandchildren, so a little out of touch.
Here’s a story about a “naughty” experience I remember, the possibility of snow here in the northeast brought it on. It was a beautiful, sunny day after a nice snowstorm. The kind of snow that was great for making snowballs and building snow men. My brother and I, fairly young at the time, watched and watched as a neighbor built a huge snowman for his children…it must have been 7 feet tall! Really! It was taller than their Dad, and had arms with hands on hips and everything, a wonderful thing to behold.
We got into our snow outfits, gloves and boots, getting everything on always took SOOO long, and headed outside to get a closeup look. I am telling you I was a wonderful little child (haha) but something just took hold, first I bumped the arm of the snowman, and it fell off, next then we threw snowballs at it, and another part fell off. Then we just went crazy, and knocked the whole thing down…even as I type this I can’t imagine what possessed us to do such a thing.
When it was all over, we just continued to play outside, and went quietly in the house, not saying a lot, and it wasn’t long before the kind man next door was at OUR door, having a few words with Mom. After that, everything is kind of a blur, but my conscience over doing such a thing was more upsetting than any punishment Mom could muster up.
