WHERE WERE YOU...

Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day

Out in the yard with your wife and children

Working on some stage in LA

Did you stand there in shock at the site of

That black smoke rising against that blue sky

Did you shout out in anger

In fear for your neighbor

Or did you just sit down and cry

Did you weep for the children

Who lost their dear loved ones

And pray for the ones who don't know

Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble

And sob for the ones left below

Did you burst out in pride

For the red white and blue

The heroes who died just doing what they do

Did you look up to heaven for some kind of answer

And look at yourself to what really matters

I'm just a singer of simple songs

I'm not a real political man

I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you

The difference in Iraq and Iran

But I know Jesus and I talk to God

And I remember this from when I was young

Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us

And the greatest is love

Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day

Teaching a class full of innocent children

Driving down some cold interstate

Did you feel guilty cause you're a survivor

In a crowded room did you feel alone

Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her

Did you dust off that bible at home

Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened

Close your eyes and not go to sleep

Did you notice the sunset the first time in ages

Speak with some stranger on the street

Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow

Go out and buy you a gun

Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watching

And turn on "I Love Lucy" reruns

Did you go to a church and hold hands with some stranger

Stand in line and give your own blood

Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family

Thank God you had somebody to love

I'm just a singer of simple songs

I'm not a real political man

I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you

The difference in Iraq and Iran

But I know Jesus and I talk to God

And I remember this from when I was young

Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us

And the greatest is love

I'm just a singer of simple songs

I'm not a real political man

I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you

The difference in Iraq and Iran

But I know Jesus and I talk to God

And I remember this from when I was young

Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us

And the greatest is love

The greatest is love

The greatest is love...

Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day ?

Personally, I had just completed packing for a cross-country move (from Massachusetts to California). We left for California on schedule on September 15th, 2001. We were in shock most of the time. What do I remember most about that journey? It rained a lot that week.

AMEN.

Thanks for stopping by...

One Year Later

With all the time that I have been away from you, my friends, I am sure you don't remember my post from just about a year ago.
http://carol-george.blogspot.com/2009/08/wild-fire-in-auburn-california.html
It was on August 30, 2009, that a wild fire destroyed the home and ALL the possessions of my mother-in-law and my brother-in-law. The have spent the last year living in a rented home not far from where they had lived. At the time I wrote the blog, I didn't include any pictures. This is all that was left. You might be able to make out the metal shell of my brother-in-law's Jeep on the left side of the picture.

Sixty-three homes and three businesses were lost in this fire. We have visited Auburn a few times since the fire. And slowly the neighborhood regains its footing. New homes are being built and happy faces breathe a sigh of relief as more and more families move back into their neighborhood. It is now less of a "cookie cutter" neighborhood than I remember it being before the fire.

This is the home (on the same lot) that my mother-in-law and my brother-in-law moved back into last Saturday, August 22, 2010. It is a few feet more in total square footage, but is basically the same foot print as the old home. Wasn't it nice for the clouds to cooperate for this picture?


The neighbors (to the right) were moving in on the same day. Lots of smiles at this end of the cul-de-sac. The neighbors went in a totally different direction with their new home. They went from a ranch-type structure to a 2-story contemporary home with four bedrooms (two master suites) and a full pool instead of a back yard. The variety of homes being built to suit the owners is quite obvious.

This is the deck -- sliders off the dining area. And they included the garden window for Mom's plants. They have been told that now is not the time to plant grass seed, but they could lay sod. The decision about that hasn't been made yet. You can almost see my brother-in-law standing at the sliders. The dog belongs to my husband's sister who came from Redwood City to line all Mom's kitchen and pantry shelves.

This is my mother-in-law sitting at her new dining table and showing off her new kitchen. I think she was ready for her afternoon nap. The woman will be 90 years young on October 11th. We are throwing her a grand party in her new home. The orchid is a housewarming gift. Did I mention, she loves her flowers and flower gardens? The rose bushes have been purchased for a few months... now it's time to plant them.

Thanks for stopping by. Have a great day!!

Biker Bar ??

I dropped by your house the other day

and was told you were down at your favorite biker bar

with some friends!

I wasn't sure where that was,

but was told I wouldn't have much trouble finding it.


Sure enough, I drove just a couple blocks and there it was...

Thought for the day: "When you have a lot of things to do, it's best to get your nap out of the way first."

Thanks for stopping by....

RABBITS, RABBITS, RABBITS

IT IS JUNE the FIRST.
Many years ago, I was on a bowling league with a lady who asked me if I ever did the "rabbits, rabbits, rabbits" thing when I got out of bed on the first of every month.
I had never heard of it. She explained that on the first of every month when she got out of bed she would hop on one foot and say "rabbits, rabbits, rabbits". It's supposed to bring you good fortune and $$$$$$$$.

Here is what Wikipedia told me about this...

“Rabbit rabbit white rabbit” is a common British superstition. The most common modern version states that a person should say “rabbit, rabbit, white rabbit” or simply "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" upon waking on the first day of each new month, and on doing so will receive good luck for the duration of that month.

The exact origin of the superstition is unknown, though it has appeared in print at least as early as 1954 in Bromley, Kent, England, where it is most commonly said to have originated, though some reports place its origins even earlier, into the 1800s. Today it has spread to most of the English-speaking countries of the world, although like all folklore, determining its exact area of distribution is difficult. This superstition is related to the broader belief in the rabbit or hare being a “lucky” animal, as exhibited in the practice of carrying a rabbit's foot for luck. Some have also believed it is representing a jumping into the future and moving ahead with life and happiness.

So... rabbits, rabbits, rabbits....

may you shine and prosper during this month of June.

Thanks for stopping by...

THANK YOU... we miss you

For my children and grandchildren...

This is Dad’s/Grandpa Don’s final resting place.

He spent a year in Viet Nam (Marines).

Then he was in a medic unit of the National Guard

(out of Pennsylvania).

He is resting at Indiantown Gap National Cemetery.

RIP Don.

Hope your day is sunny.

Thanks for stopping by...

MEMORIAL DAY ~ 2010

Enjoy your holiday.

Thanks for stopping by...

Thank Goodness... I'm not

For this week’s TAKE THIS TUNE, Jamie has chosen a tune by Ray Stevens titled: I Am My Own Grandpa. Ray Stevens has done a long list of silly/parody songs… this one included. And I do like his musical comedy. Personally, my favorite is “Mississippi Squirrel Revival” – along with the video (cute kids).

This brought me back to what I was investigating when I stopped blogging back in August or September. I never knew either of my grandfathers very well. My father was a mystery to me as well. I spent a lot of time investigating what made them tick. Well, I may not have figured that out, but I think I understand my father and his father better for having done the investigating.


My father’s father (Grandpa Johnson) passed away suddenly of a heart attack when I was about 8 years old. I thought I should cry over it, but never really did. I learned a lot about him through a journal that my Aunt Micky (dad’s much younger sister) kept… actually, my inquiries prodded her to begin her writing again. The following is the last piece that she sent me. She is almost 90 years old and I have left it as she wrote it. Todd School for Boys was the academia and Camp Tosebo was the summer boys camp associated with the school.

TODD SCHOOL POLITICS

This all happened before I was born but they are stories that have been told in the family. My father, A E Johnson, came to Todd as a teacher after he graduated from Hiram College. When he married he was given West Cottage where my brother and sister were born. When the then headmaster left, the family was moved to the headmaster’s cottage and Dad took the duties as headmaster.

At one point Dad left for a year to find a new position. However he was lured back with the promise that he would run the school after Noble Hill retired. That promise was never fulfilled and my mother was very bitter about it

During this time Noble Hill’s son Roger attended the University of Illinois and married Hortence Gettys. My humble opinion is that had her eye on the school. Anyhow, when Noble Hill retired the school went to Roger and Camp Tosebo went to Noble’s daughter Carol. Roger did not yet have his degree so Dad had to sign official papers.

As far as A E Johnson’s presence at Tosebo, early in his career at Todd, he was given the choice of recruiting students or being on the staff of the new camp. We are all glad that he chose the camp.

As a young boy Orson Welles came as a student and became like a son to Roger Hill. Orson considered himself a genius and had some effect on the activities at Todd. There was a greater emphasis on dramatics.

Dad kept up the academic standards quietly. This side did not get the publicity that the dramas and athletics did. Dad also taught the printing. He also helped with the building of the stage coach and the barn for the horses.

I feel a little unhappy and cheated that my father’s memory seems to be forgotten in history of Todd School.

~Mildred Johnson Thomas~

My father passed away in 2002 at the age of 90. He had Alzheimers. He was a strict father and was closed to people on the emotional level. At some point I thought it might have been because my sister and I were adopted. He was closed emotionally to my children also. But when the disease set in and the great grandchildren came along, he had such a big loving heart I couldn’t believe it was the same man -- there were much less of the prior emotional inhabitions. That love had been hiding inside all along. In hindsight, I believe that he was never shown or taught to show his emotions. Men NEED to do this as well as do women.

I am still sad that I didn’t know these men better – that I didn’t see inside their hearts, and brains – before they passed into a brighter light.

So I tell those who matter that I love them... and I tell them as often as possible.

Thanks for stopping by... you have a great day and I will too.

A Pet Peeve -- comes to light

I have a new pet peeve.

Monday through Friday I take my son to work. It’s something I can do for him because I couldn’t do more for him while he was growing up (he is still “growing up” – aren’t we all?). Anyway, we always listen to the morning DJs (Dave and Susan) on a local country station. This morning’s topic made me extremely angry. Tell me what you think… please.

Dave went through a red light on Christmas Eve (he says it was 4 a.m.). The camera at the light took his picture and in the mail yesterday he got a ticket for $371 and the copy of his picture in his car running the light. Apparently in the two years that he has been living in the Sacramento area, he hasn’t bothered to get a California driver’s license either. Now he is panicking because he has to go to court to get all this straightened out. His first stupid move was to admit to anything on this public method of communication (the radio station). You just don’t do that. I couldn’t help myself; I sent him the following email:

“Dave... I listen to you and Susan every morning. Now, I may regret this, but here goes. Get over it! Pay the ticket and get over it! YOU made the decision to not stop for a red light and to not get a California license. All this crap is YOUR responsibility... not Susan's, not mine, not the little guy in my review mirror... it's YOURS. Attitudes like yours make it really difficult for parents to instill respect for laws that are made for ALL OF US. Get over it and get legal.”

I guess this has always been a pet peeve of mine, but now I have voiced it publicly. Why do those personalities who are in the spotlight (be it a radio personality or President of the United States) feel that they are above the law? It sure would make it easier on all parents if these human beings admitted they were human and owed up to their mistakes.

Mama always said: It’s easier to remember the truth than many lies.

Thanks for stopping by...

HAPPY NEW YEAR

NEW YEAR WISH

Perhaps a bit wiser,
a bit kinder, too;

a little bit braver,
a heart that's more true;

a touch of believing
I've not known before;

in joys I'm receiving
perhaps a little bit more.

A little more anxious
to reach out my hand;

despite hurt or problems
to still understand;

accepting the heartache
that life often brings;

a little more beauty
in life's simple things.

A prayer when I'm weary
as onward I trod,

a little more trusting,
believing in God,

'tis this I would wish
for within moments dear,

not a lot - just a little –
this wondrous new year.

~ Garnett Ann Schultz ~

Merry Christmas

Is Proof Reading a Dying Art?

Supposedly, these headlines were actually printed...

MAN KILLS SELF BEFORE SHOOTING WIFE AND DAUGHTER
(It took the editor two or three readings before he realized that what he was reading was impossible.)

PANDA MATING FAILS: Veterinarian Takes Over
(What a guy!)

MINERS REFUSE TO WORK AFTER DEATH

JUVENILE COURT TO TRY SHOOTING DEFENDANT

COLD WAVE LINKED TO TEMPERATURE
(Who wudda thought?!)

RED TAPE HOLDS UP NEW BRIDGE
(Wonder if they tried duct tape?)

MAN STRUCK BY LIGHTNING: Faces Battery Charge
(He probably IS the battery charge. It must have been a shocking experience. His new nickname is Sparky. Etc, etc…)

ASTRONAUT TAKES BALME FOR GAS IN SPACECRAFT
(It was the freeze-dried chili and refried beans.)

HOSPITALS ARE SUED BY SEVEN FOOT DOCTORS
(Boy, are they tall!)

TYPHOON RIPS THROUGHT CEMETERY: Hundreds Dead
(Did I read that right? Are they serious?)

Have a safe and sane Black Friday everyone.
Thanks for stopping by...

A VERY HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL

THE PEACH PIT MYSTERY

This was written back in August. I am feeling that it is time to get back to my blog – at least a little more frequently than I have been. Most of my projects are completed. I have put together 3 manuscripts about my dad. Today would have been his 98th birthday. I have finished most of my Christmas gift projects. It is still a little too warm during the day to crochet large items (I have 2 blankets to finish for my grandchildren… nothing fancy, just warm covers for their northeast winters). I am also in the process of really cleaning out a lot of my unnecessary “stuff” (I foresee another blog subject).

THE PEACH PIT MYSTERY
Once upon a time, in a place and time not far from where I am sitting, there lives a friendly pup named Ramona. Sometimes she is called Bella, sometimes Bubba Puppy – depending on how smartly or un-smartly (not a word, but I don’t want to use the word ‘dumb’) she behaves. The obedience trainer warned me, “You will always have a two year old living with you.” And… we do.


Ramona (a.k.a. Bella, a.k.a. Bubba Puppy) is very much attached to my son Chris. When he leaves for work, she mopes. When he comes home, she is that two-year-old that the trainer warned us about. Luckily, Chris has a good handle on her. While he is gone, I must be the nurturing mother figure of a two-year-old… oh, that was such a naughty dog!! Oh, what a good puppy… etc, etc. To say the least, I am NOT her favorite person unless I am the only one home and it’s mealtime. She has a built in alarm that tells here when it’s time to eat. I don’t know HOW she knows when it is THAT time.

She has a fairly large back yard (by California standards) in which to run free. She is sometimes a barker. She will let the passers-by know without a doubt that this is HER territory. She is a herding breed (Border Collie mix) and she is protecting her herd. However, if they stop and chat with her, she will lick them to death. She really does love attention. The yards in this neighborhood are all bordered with fences. There is an access gate in our back fence where Ramona stands and watches the highway of human life. As darkness falls, she stands on our deck and is mesmerized by the car lights going by. Later in the evening she chats with the other canines within ear-shot (hers, not ours). She is let outside just before out bedtime with hopes that there will be no need to get up during the night for a trip outside.

The neighbor to our north has a yard full of trees. Every summer the peach tree (in the back corner) bears its juicy fruit. Many, many people walking along the street at the back of our yard stop and climb the neighbor’s fence to pick the fruit in the tree (yesterday a couple of peach thieves broke that fence). If Ramona is out, she barks at them. Bubba loves the fruit… Bella doesn’t know right from wrong with many things – especially peaches.

Since it has been peach time, I have been waking to painfully stepping on a peach pit on my way to the kitchen… or stumbling over a broken pit in the living room or in the sunroom. Every morning it is something to do with peach pits – at least one, sometimes more. One morning I heard her trying to chew on it in the hallway where the bedrooms are (crunch, crunch). Just the sound hurt my teeth and jaw.

Now these wake up calls are usually before 6 a.m. My normal rise and shine time is between 7 and 7:30. But since these peach pit mysteries began, I am not sleeping at all well. (This time has changed as I am up by 6 a.m. these days to get my son to work... our second car ceased operating in September.)

Where, in the name of all that is Ramona, is she getting these pits?? This has really stumped us. Have the squirrels that constantly antagonize Ramona been stashing these pits for the winter, and Ramona found their stash? It just had to be the frickin’ squirrels. They have been trying to get back at us ever since we had THEIR tree taken down before it fell down.

Then, one morning, about 5 a.m., I heard something strange… I couldn’t place the noise. But when I turned the hall light on, you guessed it, another peach pit!!!

This pit lay in a pool of saliva (a large pool of saliva). AH HA!!! That dumb Bubba Puppy is eating any peach she can find before coming in at bedtime. In the middle of the night she regurgitates the pit and VOILA! I step on the pit and incur the pain of the pit. OK… so now we know the source. I will take care of that. We have a 30 foot lead line left over from her training. Before Chris left for work this morning, he attached that lead line to the bottom rail of our deck stair railing. That was at 7:30 a.m. At 8:30 a.m. I heard her out there barking at a guy on a bicycle. Now… how could she be at the back gate?? The lead line is not that long. OH BUBBA PUPPY!! I stepped out onto the deck. There at the door was an uneaten peach – for me? And there was Bubba with about 6 inches of the lead line hanging from her collar. Darn dog had chewed through the line and set herself free. And, in the process, had found another peach.

The peach was thrown away and, of course, Ramona moped away the rest of the day on the cool kitchen floor. I hope that tree dies this winter. And then the city decided to beautify the easement that runs across the back property of us and many of our neighbors (perhaps another blog subject?).

Thanks for stopping by... hope your days is just grand.

Some disjointed thoughts on a SEPTEMBER SONG

When I saw Jamie’s prompt, I said to myself, “Self, just what are we going to write about this?”
Happy Labor Day. May you be able to rest on your vocational laurels for these 24 hours. It’s a shame that our holidays are no longer what they used to be. I would LOVE to hear that WalMart closed its doors for 24 hours straight – or that any and all other stores did the same for that matter. I have a lot of respect for those small operations that actually do respect our formerly time-honored tradition of actually taking a holiday from work.

So, if it’s Labor Day, it must be September. Being from New England, this IS my time of year. This is the color and smells and glory of another year dying into winter.

People say that because I live in California, we don’t experience the seasons. I say this is not quite correct. Our daily temperatures drop from what can be a suffocating 100* to being a bone chilling 50*. At night, we do have frost and freezing temps. Perhaps we don’t have snow here, but I can travel less than an hour to see it, walk in it, make a snowball and throw it at something or someone. Our summer does melt into an autumn-like melancholy and then into the winter doldrums. I do get cabin fever.

And, each year I wonder to myself if it is time to write my September Song. I must consider that putting together a very loose family history does have to take place as a start to this song. Have I finally reached that point in my life where it’s all downhill from here. Well, rationally, I know that happened a few years ago. But am I really going to accept that fact? I try not to stare my own mortality in the face often.

I got to this point in my posting and thought, I don’t want to write about my mortality. I know it’s there… not too much I can do about that.

It was then I remembered a wonderful series that was aired on PBS a while ago. Victor Borge was a very accomplished Danish pianist and quite adeptly mingled humor into his concerts. This is my contribution to September Song for 2009.

I hope you enjoy a little smile with these two talented muscians. To see more September Song contributions visit TAKE THIS TUNE.

Thanks for stopping by...

Did I mention that my thoughts would be a bit scattered?

And it's September 2009

I certainly hope that September brings ALL of us better times than August has.

For those who are ill or suffering from life's not so nice turns in the highway, may you find peace and hope and strength... sprinkled with a little laughing and a lot of smiles.

For those who are about to build and ark and float away, may you have warm sunny days with very little humidity.

For those people finding the dry heat opressive and energy-zapping, may you have cooler days with a few rain showers thrown in for good measure.

For those having found themselves at a good place in time, may you journey continue along this path.

Peace and blessings to all my blogging community and friends.

Thanks for stopping by :o)

Wild Fire in Auburn, California

Auburn Wildfire Tears Path Of Destruction

Dozens Of Homes Burn In Placer County

AUBURN, Calif. -- A fast-moving wildfire burned dozens of homes and scorched hundreds of acres Sunday afternoon in Placer County, prompting Gov. Arnold Schwarznegger to declare a state of emergency.

The fire started near Highway 49 and Rock Creek Road in North Auburn at about 2:20 p.m. It destroyed at least 60 structures, most of them homes in the North Park and South Park subdivisions, and burned about 275 acres.

Cal Fire said the blaze was about 50 percent contained by 8 p.m., with full containment expected Tuesday, Sept. 1.

Hubby's 88-year-old mother and his brother, Dan, lost their home Sunday, August 30, 2009, in this horrible fire. The fire moved so fast that they were given less than 5 minutes to evacuate. They lost absolutely everything, except the clothes they were wearing and her car. She did not even have time to gather her medications or any memories to take with her. It will be a little crazy around here for a while. I will try to check in again with a progress report soon.

TAKE THIS TUNE... Life is a Highway

Saturday morning, I got a little nudge from Jamie, who created Take This Tune... “You might enjoy doing this week's Take This Tune.” It is difficult for me to get back to the discipline of blogging with my mind still going in a thousand different directions. FYI, I truly enjoy the music of Rascal Flats and love the movie “CARS.”

Last summer I did drive cross-country and back for the sixth and seventh times in my life. I cannot begin to count the times I have flown from coast to coast. A friend in Massachusetts remarked one time that she always thought I had a wanderlust-type spirit. As I discussed in one of my posts (June 29, 2009), I have actually stepped foot (or car tires have touched ground) in 42 of our 50 states. I have actually lived in only five of them (California, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, North Carolina and Connecticut). Then there are all the places we have visited in our cruising life… the Bahamas, Antigua, Dominica, Barbados, St Thomas, St Kitts, St Maarten, Puerto Rico, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Cozumel, Puerto Vallarta, Acapulco, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Panama, and Columbia. I think that pretty much covers most of the ports. We may be adding more in the near future. I never in my life thought I would own a passport, say nothing of travel outside of the USA -- except for Canada.

However, this summer my highway travel has been a tad different. It involves travels of the mind… to discover more about who and why I am who I am.

The wordy 1940’s brochure and the not-so-wordy 1950’s brochure about the summer camp my dad attended (and my grandfather had a hand in running) is finished. I spent hours looking at the poorly scanned pages under a magnifying glass (program) so I could make sense of the words. Then I printed out the 50 pages, incorporated what I figured out to be the printed words, made double-sided copies and placed the pages into report covers. I made 6 copies of this. My aunt (dad’s sister) sent me a collection of thoughts she had written during the years – mostly about Camp Tosebo. I have put them into Word and added appropriate pictures (if I have them). That needs to be copied and put into the report cover. There will be chapters with pictures on Todd School, Camp Tosebo and my memories of life with Dad – all interspersed with pictures and emails received from the still-living relatives. When it’s done, I believe I will have written my first book. I would love this project to be done and sent out for Christmas. This may be an unrealistic deadline as I have much more soul-searching and writing to do. At least I will have most of it done – the easy stuff. The things already written that only need to be organized.

I have been knitting and crocheting several things for the grandkids. I finally found a pattern for an ear-flap hat that seem to be popular with the kids these days, which I can make with some ease. I have also been making jewelry for Christmas gifts. This is not real high class stuff, just things I think will be neat for early teen boys and my 9 year old granddaughter. Now, if I were really ambitious, I would work on fixing my camera so that I could take pictures of all this.** That means finding the instruction book and reading it. These craft sessions also provide me with “thought time.” Some of these thoughts actually find their way to the printed page.

Two weeks ago, I was handed a gift from a friend – she had no idea. It is a book that I read very quickly back in 2000… UP ISLAND by Anne Rivers Siddons. It is taking me back through the early emotions of my divorce that occurred circa 1981-82. The emotions lasted a much longer time. The healing of the main character takes place on Martha’s Vineyard. I actually visited that island for one long Columbus Day weekend. It was a wonderful weekend and the book is allowing me to relive some of that wonder. Of course back then I didn’t take many pictures. Darn! I need to fix that camera!** I am enjoying this highway also.

So many highways to travel, so little time… BIG sigh.

** OK… so here’s the scoop on the camera. There was no LCD display picture. I could see the picture after it was taken but not before. I now know what the DISP button means – push it once, no picture; push it again, viola! The picture returns. Do I feel a little dumb?? YES!!! Hubby is being very smart, “I won’t comment on it! Nope, not saying a thing.” I’ll post pictures tomorrow of some of my creations. For now, I am going to a corner and licking my wounds. I may even watch this video again.

Thanks for stopping by... have a great week.

Taking a Little Time Off

My creative energies are taking me in a different direction at the moment. There is such a long list of things I want to accomplish sooner rather than later.

1. Spend less time in this computer chair. My friend "sciatica" is letting me know that I am here too much and for far too long at a time.
2. Get things ready for a BIG garage sale -- motivating hubby is becoming more and more difficult.
3. Start making the Christmas presents -- the ideas have been running around in my mind for a couple weeks now.
4. Work on the family history which I started.
5. With my son now working, I have more home responsibilites... one of them being cooking (which is NOT on my list of favorite things to do in the summer). Also, one of our cars died last week, so we are down to 1 vehicle now... I find myself playing chauffeur.

I will still visit you and read the goings-on. And I shall return.

TAKE THIS TUNE... Sunday Morning Coming Down

This week, I didn't go to to music for my contribution. This week is about what Sunday morning was way back when...

Through my entire formative years I wished that I could have slept in on Sunday morning. This was especially true during my high school years. However, it was church and Sunday school just about every Sunday that I can remember from my childhood. It wasn’t all bad as the years rolled by… it was just Sunday.

When I was in the elementary school-age bracket, there was always a nice breakfast – bacon and eggs and sweet rolls. Then it was off to dress in our Sunday best, pile in the car and get to church. When we got home, the smell of a roast permeated the house. Mom had managed to get one prepared and into the oven while the rest of us fussed about our clothes. Dinner was served to the melodies of classical music coming from our new stereophonic record player in the living room.

In later years, this practice continued when we had weekend guest from Mom’s or Dad’s side of the family. Mom’s family lived in Schenectady, NY – about and hour’s drive to the west of us. Dad’s family lived near New Haven, CT – about 1 ½ hour’s drive to the south of our town.

BUT... on those weekends that there were no guests in residence, Dad would chose to stop at the local Friendly’s Ice Cream Shop for an after church luncheon treat. And back in the late 50’s and early 60’s this was the place to eat if you wanted a great burger and an awesome ice cream sundae. The store has since gone through many, many changes. It’s still a great place to eat, but has lost the intimacy of being a small, privately owned chain of restaurants.

Oh… here I go again… off on another tangent… I just never can tell where my thoughts will lead me… (big sigh)

The Friendly Ice Cream Shop (which was its name when I was a child so many years ago) was founded in 1935 in Springfield, Massachusetts by two young brothers… 18-year-old Curtis Blake and 20-year-old S. Prestley Blake. Their first shop only served double-dip cones for 5 cents. And, oh boy, did they make good ice cream. I guess they still do, but it’s not the same. In 1940, the Blake brothers opened a second Friendly Ice Cream store in West Springfield, MA and added hamburgers to the menu. Plain and simple… hamburgers and ice cream. And, oh, they were so good (according to my memory).

I was patriotically surprised to read that in 1943, Friendly Ice Cream closed its shops for the remainder of WW2.

By 1951, there were 10 locations throughout Western Massachusetts and Connecticut. And they started selling their ice cream in these restaurant/stores. Have I mentioned how good the ice cream was? Real ice cream with real high grade cream and chocolate or strawberries or black cherries or pecans or almonds or walnuts… well, you get the picture. In 1979, the Blake brothers retired and sold Friendly to the Hershey Food Corporation. At this point in the restaurants evolution, it became less the neighborhood Friendly Ice Cream Shop and more the restaurant chain Friendly Restaurant (if ya know what I mean) – a different quality food (not necessarily lower quality, just different). AND the menu was changed. Hershey took my absolutely favorite ice cream sundae off the menu – the Swiss Chocolate Almond Sundae. The menu became more complex. In 1988, Friendly became part of The Restaurant Company. In 1989 the apostrophe and "s" is added to Friendly, making the restaurant chain's name Friendly’s (prior to that it was simply known as Friendly Restaurant). Again more changes.

In 1997, it became a NASDAQ entity and in 1998 it began a franchise program. In 2000, Friendly’s arrived on the American Stock Exchange. In August 2007, Friendly's is bought for $337 million by private investment firm Sun Capital Partners. Changes… just too many changes. And, in my opinion, very overpriced. But the food -- and the ice cream -- is worth the price.

For today, I think it is too bad that the dream of those 2 young men turned out to be such a capitalistic venture. To some extent, they would probably disagree. Currently there are more than 500 Friendly’s restaurants in the chain which encompasses 16 states on the East Coast of the United States. In 12 states, you can buy Friendly’s ice cream in a grocery store.

It’s nice to have the Sunday memories of way back then. Sadly, my memories of today’s Sundays are not much different from the other days of the week.

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Proximidade Award

Thank you, Jamie who writes Duward Discussion . Thank you for including me in your circle of blogging friends and for encouraging me to write what is important to me.

Being a recipient of this award affirms that this blog invests and believes in the Proximity – nearness in space, time and relationships.

Since my blogsphere is somewhat limited, I dedicate this award to all those who stop by on occasion to read my thoughts, and to those who write blogs that visit on a regular basis. I appreciate that these bloggers are exceedingly charming, blogging friends who aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement!

Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated.

My thanks to:

Jamie, my mentor

Linda, the Photographer

Sandee, the Humorist

Empress Bee, the Ultimate Cruiser

Tammy, the Queen-size Funny Bone

Mary the Teach

Shelly the Story Teller

Trish, the Crazy Working Mom

Mimi, the Queen of Memes

If you would like to pick up this award again, please do.

I so appreciate being able to see parts of the world through your blog.