Moving Day!
My sister-in-law moved this past weekend. We helped.
For most of us, the words "Moving Day" strike terror in our hearts. This day was no exception!
We arrived at our destination--aka "old house"--shortly after 9 a.m. Saturday morning. The first thing we saw was a bunch of trucks and a large trailer in front of the "old house." This was good, because we were afraid we would be the only ones there to help, other than maybe one or two of her four children.
If you're a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, as we are, one of the perks of membership is an experienced moving crew who will come and load up your stuff for you and haul it away to your new digs. For free, other than maybe some donuts or pizza. And they like it best when you have everything ready to go, boxed up and waiting, so all they have to do is load it into the van, trailer, pickup trucks or whatever moving option you have chosen. They really HATE it when you're not ready, although you'll usually not hear them say so. So when we parked and made our way through all the trucks to the door, this is what we had found--the
ultimate experienced moving crew.
By the time we got there, the trucks and trailer were pretty much packed, so we helped with the rest of the loading, and loaded stuff into our truck as well. To cut to the chase and not make this any longer than necessary, suffice it to say that we got furniture and boxes and all from the "old house" to the "new condo." And that is where the fun REALLY began!
Dsil and her dh (dear husband), had lived for a good 25 years or so in a 3,000 sq. ft. Colonial style mansion, modeled after the one her dh's sister lived in, in Tennessee. You may be aware of how much stuff accumulates after even 2 or 3 years of living in one place. Plus, with the wide double-doors in the old mansion, and wide hallways, no one probably even noticed that the oversized couches, dressers, and several fancy curio cabinets were a mover's nightmare. Two years ago they sold this mansion (all their kids had been gone for several years and they plain just didn't need or want to live in this large a house), and moved into the present
"old house," just a few blocks from the OLD old house. Now they were moving from the NEW "old house" to a condominium. And while obviously moving the oversized couches, dressers and curio cabinets hadn't presented much of a problem going from the OLD old house to the NEW old house, it was going to present a problem here.
The condo was upstairs. To get upstairs, you had to go up a narrow, totally covered stairway. Dsil assured the men that she had measured and the curio cabinets should go up those stairs and right into her new home. NOT! With a bit of huffing & puffing they could get the first one up to the turn. But it was too tight to make the turn, so they had to come back down again and park this one in the garage. They tried the next one, which was a little smaller, with the same results. I think there was a third one which they didn't even bother with and just moved it to the garage. Her son will probably rent a forklift and lift the things onto the garage roof, which is flat, and they can be hoisted over the deck railing and into the
sliding door fairly easily.
We learned a few things with this move.
#1. Make use of the free, experienced moving crew.
#2. Have plenty of boxes for the move.
#3. Have them packed and labeled with what's in them (she didn't) and where they go (she did).
#4. And this is the most important!!!!! Get rid of stuff BEFORE you move. Have a garage sale, donate, give away, or throw away, but look at what you have, determine if it's really something you need--and jettison the rest.
Dsil's dh assured us that when the moved from the OLD old house to the NEW old house, they got rid of a lot of stuff. They must have accumulated a LOT more stuff in the two years they were in the NEW old house. With a downsize in our future someday, it is a good time to begin our own program of getting rid of stuff!
Monday, April 30, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
JT: Future Sports SuperStar!
A few days ago we dropped in on our #2 daughter and her family for a quick visit. They just had a new baby and we hadn't seen him (or the rest of the family for that matter) in about a week or so, and it seemed a nice night for a visit. Especially since we were in the neighborhood.
Our 21 month old grandson has had a "thing" for balls since he was pretty young. If you are out of ideas for a birthday or Christmas gift for the little guy, buy him a new ball and you will be his new best friend. He packs them around, he throws them (naturally), and just in general loves balls of every size and shape. He was playing a game of "catch" with his mommy, and one of us commented on how much he loved balls and how good he was at throwing them (remember, he's not even 2 years old yet).
This prompted his daddy to relate the following story:
One day, when JT was about 18 months old, and maybe younger, "Dad" was sitting in JT's room, reading or doing something. "JT" was also in the room, but his daddy wasn't paying much attention to him. The chair which Dad was sitting in was next to a dresser, and on this dresser was a plastic inflatable reindeer. As Dad sat there reading or doing whatever (he never did really tell us what he was doing), this reindeer kept falling off the dresser. Dad reached down, picked it up and placed back on the dresser, only to have it fall off again a couple minutes later. After a few minutes of this, Dad began to wonder just why this reindeer was falling off the dresser--he was sure he was putting it back on far enough from the edge to keep it from falling. So Dad watched the reindeer. At that point, something went flying past Dad's head, and the reindeer fell to the ground one more time. He picked up the reindeer again, then watched JT. WHAM! JT let fly with one of his balls and pegged that reindeer--knocking him right off the dresser.
(end of story)
It didn't take long for JT to learn to shoot baskets. They keep a diaper pail in the garage where all the disposable diapers go when they've been used up pretty good. JT loves to open the door to the garage and throw those diapers into the pail. His daddy says he only misses about one in seven tries. He's also learned to stand in his crib and shoot balls into his Fisher-Price basketball hoop. He doesn't miss very often there, either.
We can't decide if he'll grow up to be a basketball or baseball star. He is also a good slider. Their floors are made of laminate (fake wood), and he likes to get a running start down the hallway, and slide into the kitchen on his knees. Works real good when he's in sweats--not so good if he's only wearing a diaper & t-shirt. This is something else he taught himself.
Yup, in about 20-25 years, we may see headlines about the athletic prowess of one "JT --------" Or sooner, in the case of little league and/or high school sports!
Our 21 month old grandson has had a "thing" for balls since he was pretty young. If you are out of ideas for a birthday or Christmas gift for the little guy, buy him a new ball and you will be his new best friend. He packs them around, he throws them (naturally), and just in general loves balls of every size and shape. He was playing a game of "catch" with his mommy, and one of us commented on how much he loved balls and how good he was at throwing them (remember, he's not even 2 years old yet).
This prompted his daddy to relate the following story:
One day, when JT was about 18 months old, and maybe younger, "Dad" was sitting in JT's room, reading or doing something. "JT" was also in the room, but his daddy wasn't paying much attention to him. The chair which Dad was sitting in was next to a dresser, and on this dresser was a plastic inflatable reindeer. As Dad sat there reading or doing whatever (he never did really tell us what he was doing), this reindeer kept falling off the dresser. Dad reached down, picked it up and placed back on the dresser, only to have it fall off again a couple minutes later. After a few minutes of this, Dad began to wonder just why this reindeer was falling off the dresser--he was sure he was putting it back on far enough from the edge to keep it from falling. So Dad watched the reindeer. At that point, something went flying past Dad's head, and the reindeer fell to the ground one more time. He picked up the reindeer again, then watched JT. WHAM! JT let fly with one of his balls and pegged that reindeer--knocking him right off the dresser.
(end of story)
It didn't take long for JT to learn to shoot baskets. They keep a diaper pail in the garage where all the disposable diapers go when they've been used up pretty good. JT loves to open the door to the garage and throw those diapers into the pail. His daddy says he only misses about one in seven tries. He's also learned to stand in his crib and shoot balls into his Fisher-Price basketball hoop. He doesn't miss very often there, either.
We can't decide if he'll grow up to be a basketball or baseball star. He is also a good slider. Their floors are made of laminate (fake wood), and he likes to get a running start down the hallway, and slide into the kitchen on his knees. Works real good when he's in sweats--not so good if he's only wearing a diaper & t-shirt. This is something else he taught himself.
Yup, in about 20-25 years, we may see headlines about the athletic prowess of one "JT --------" Or sooner, in the case of little league and/or high school sports!
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Hoppy-Cat
We are a 3-cat family. Two lady cats and a guy cat, whom we fondly term "Mafia Cat." Roxanne, the queen of the roost, is around 16 years old. She's actually our oldest daughter's cat, left with us when she got married because Roxanne was used to us, would be happier with us, and the new husband didn't particularly want a cat in his home. Piewacket belongs to our youngest daughter who still lives at home. She's around 6 years old, probably the least-offensive cat who lives with us. Mafia Cat, whose real name is Figaro, is about 3 years old, and is our son's cat, left with us when said son moved out almost 2 years ago. Son didn't have the pet deposit so it was supposed to be a temporary arrangement. Then said son discovered that the street he now lives on is rather busy, he asked if Figaro could continue to live with us.
Roxanne and Piewacket don't get along especially well as a rule. They tolerate each other on the good days, and hiss and spit on the others. Mafia Cat gets his entertainment by chasing after the girls every chance he gets. So "cat-life" in our household is never a dull moment. And because Mafia Cat doesn't get along with the girls, and because we value our sleep and don't want to be woken up in the middle of the night by howling and growling, Mafia Cat gets put out before we go to bed.
Friday morning, Mafia Cat came in, limping slightly. I could see a little lump on his left rear foot, but no other indication of injury. I tried to look at it, but he was not happy about it. Did I mention that he is a very large cat? With sharp teeth and claws? Later in the morning he was meowing quite a bit. He seldom meows, and when he does it's more like a little squeek. He was doing a lot of meowing, so we knew something was wrong. So our daughter (Piewacket's "mommy") hunted down the cat carrier, and Dad & daughter hauled Mafia Cat off to the vet to have his injury checked out.
A couple hours and small fortune later, Mafia Cat returned home with a cast on his injured paw. For the next couple of hours he was very highly entertaining as he got used to his new apparel. He didn't know what to do with this new equipment. He couldn't put it down to walk on, so he stuck it straight out behind him. He could only move backwards, when he wasn't busy looking like one of the old childhood toys called "Weebles." He tried to stand, but always fell on his backside and rolled around, then tried to get up and ended up scooting around backwards. He scooted around the perimiter of the livingroom, landing in my knitting basket where he tried to dismantle the afghan I have been working on. I dug him out as carefully as I could, remembering his sharp teeth and claws.
He did manage to get himself to the kitchen for his dinner though, walking forwards and not backwards. But he continued his backwards scoots throughout the evening, leg stuck straight out behind him. And did I mention that he tried to chew the cast off his foot?
By Saturday morning he had a better handle on his cast. He was moving forward more than backwards, was less cranky, and had quit chewing on the cast. I think we're all going to live through this.
And the lady cats? They have enjoyed the past few days of peace and solitude, since Mafia Cat can't run fast enough to be a threat to them.
Roxanne and Piewacket don't get along especially well as a rule. They tolerate each other on the good days, and hiss and spit on the others. Mafia Cat gets his entertainment by chasing after the girls every chance he gets. So "cat-life" in our household is never a dull moment. And because Mafia Cat doesn't get along with the girls, and because we value our sleep and don't want to be woken up in the middle of the night by howling and growling, Mafia Cat gets put out before we go to bed.
Friday morning, Mafia Cat came in, limping slightly. I could see a little lump on his left rear foot, but no other indication of injury. I tried to look at it, but he was not happy about it. Did I mention that he is a very large cat? With sharp teeth and claws? Later in the morning he was meowing quite a bit. He seldom meows, and when he does it's more like a little squeek. He was doing a lot of meowing, so we knew something was wrong. So our daughter (Piewacket's "mommy") hunted down the cat carrier, and Dad & daughter hauled Mafia Cat off to the vet to have his injury checked out.
A couple hours and small fortune later, Mafia Cat returned home with a cast on his injured paw. For the next couple of hours he was very highly entertaining as he got used to his new apparel. He didn't know what to do with this new equipment. He couldn't put it down to walk on, so he stuck it straight out behind him. He could only move backwards, when he wasn't busy looking like one of the old childhood toys called "Weebles." He tried to stand, but always fell on his backside and rolled around, then tried to get up and ended up scooting around backwards. He scooted around the perimiter of the livingroom, landing in my knitting basket where he tried to dismantle the afghan I have been working on. I dug him out as carefully as I could, remembering his sharp teeth and claws.
He did manage to get himself to the kitchen for his dinner though, walking forwards and not backwards. But he continued his backwards scoots throughout the evening, leg stuck straight out behind him. And did I mention that he tried to chew the cast off his foot?
By Saturday morning he had a better handle on his cast. He was moving forward more than backwards, was less cranky, and had quit chewing on the cast. I think we're all going to live through this.
And the lady cats? They have enjoyed the past few days of peace and solitude, since Mafia Cat can't run fast enough to be a threat to them.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Random Thoughts on Mortality
We're all going to die. It's inevitable. It's a fact of life. We came to this earth to accomplish some things, with any luck we'll have a nice long life with lots of friends and family around us, and we will accomplish what we set out to do. And when it's all said and done, we leave our earthly life and go back. It's called "death," and it happens to us all.
Now I'm starting to get up there in years. I remember as a teenager thinking that I'd be 60 in 2007, and how far away that was. Well, it WAS far away--like 40+ years ago. But life has a way of continuing on, whether you're paying attention or not. Bingo! Here I am, I've lived more years than what I have left to live. Time to think about this a little more seriously.
And, there's nothing like having someone close to you, come close to death, to make you even more aware that time is passing.
On New Year's day, we got a call from our daughter Heather, who had an email from her cousin Marci, that her mother (my sister-in-law), was in the hospital with some sort of heart problems. They were going to run tests and see if she had had a heart attack, and run an angiogram to see how her arteries were doing. For the next several hours we sat waiting for more news. In the meantime, we did manage to get ahold of Marci, or she got ahold of us. We exchanged several phone calls and waited some more. Finally, later that evening, Marci called us back with the news. Three blocked arteries, and they would be doing bypass surgery probably on Weds.
Now my sister-in-law, Sandy, is a young 68--turning 69 in June. She has had some health problems, but has been taking better care of herself. We saw her on Christmas Eve as she & her husband came to our family celebration. She seemed fine to us, but we later found out that Marci, who had seen her the day before, didn't think she was so fine and wanted her to go to the doctor. She toughed it out another week, and finally had to admit something was wrong. Her son Brent drove her to the hospital, after she refused an ambulance.
To cut to the chase, Sandy is doing much better. She should make a full recovery, and of necessity should make some lifestyle changes to ensure she'll be around for a few more years.
Her wake-up call was ours as well. If we don't make some changes of our own, we may find ourselves where she was--or worse.
Now I'm starting to get up there in years. I remember as a teenager thinking that I'd be 60 in 2007, and how far away that was. Well, it WAS far away--like 40+ years ago. But life has a way of continuing on, whether you're paying attention or not. Bingo! Here I am, I've lived more years than what I have left to live. Time to think about this a little more seriously.
And, there's nothing like having someone close to you, come close to death, to make you even more aware that time is passing.
On New Year's day, we got a call from our daughter Heather, who had an email from her cousin Marci, that her mother (my sister-in-law), was in the hospital with some sort of heart problems. They were going to run tests and see if she had had a heart attack, and run an angiogram to see how her arteries were doing. For the next several hours we sat waiting for more news. In the meantime, we did manage to get ahold of Marci, or she got ahold of us. We exchanged several phone calls and waited some more. Finally, later that evening, Marci called us back with the news. Three blocked arteries, and they would be doing bypass surgery probably on Weds.
Now my sister-in-law, Sandy, is a young 68--turning 69 in June. She has had some health problems, but has been taking better care of herself. We saw her on Christmas Eve as she & her husband came to our family celebration. She seemed fine to us, but we later found out that Marci, who had seen her the day before, didn't think she was so fine and wanted her to go to the doctor. She toughed it out another week, and finally had to admit something was wrong. Her son Brent drove her to the hospital, after she refused an ambulance.
To cut to the chase, Sandy is doing much better. She should make a full recovery, and of necessity should make some lifestyle changes to ensure she'll be around for a few more years.
Her wake-up call was ours as well. If we don't make some changes of our own, we may find ourselves where she was--or worse.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Funnies
Here are a couple of "funnies" I've heard recently--real life experiences:
First one: I edit the weekly newsletter for the Sweet Adelines chorus group I'm a member of. I usually include a joke or funny saying at the end of the newsletter. For the latest one, I used several Church bulletin bloopers that my sister-in-law sent me a few weeks ago. The next day I received a reply from one of the chorus members, with her own "Church bulletin blooper."
Seems my friend Carol did the weekly bulletin for her ward (LDS) some years ago. One of the songs which the congregation would be singing was "We Thank Thee O God For a Prophet." Being somewhat in a hurry, she didn't realize that that she had mis-typed it to read "We Thank Thee O God For a Profit." Wouldn't have been quite so funny except that the theme of that Sacrament meeting was on "Tithes and Offerings."
The second one occurred today. I went with my husband to Hood River to deliver Real Estate and Sports magazines--the freebies you see in grocery stores and in racks on street corners. This was a new route for dh--we had a list of stops to go by, and a cassette tape that was recorded by the previous route driver to guide us on our way. At one point, he was trying to tell us about a stop--a bank. On the tape he hemmed and hawed, asked someone he couldn't see what the name of the bank was. As he was apparently driving and talking into the tape deck, he said something like, "What the heck is the name of this bank? Just a minute........." After a few seconds, the tape stated, "Drive Through....."
That's it for today. I hope I don't take forever for the next post!
First one: I edit the weekly newsletter for the Sweet Adelines chorus group I'm a member of. I usually include a joke or funny saying at the end of the newsletter. For the latest one, I used several Church bulletin bloopers that my sister-in-law sent me a few weeks ago. The next day I received a reply from one of the chorus members, with her own "Church bulletin blooper."
Seems my friend Carol did the weekly bulletin for her ward (LDS) some years ago. One of the songs which the congregation would be singing was "We Thank Thee O God For a Prophet." Being somewhat in a hurry, she didn't realize that that she had mis-typed it to read "We Thank Thee O God For a Profit." Wouldn't have been quite so funny except that the theme of that Sacrament meeting was on "Tithes and Offerings."
The second one occurred today. I went with my husband to Hood River to deliver Real Estate and Sports magazines--the freebies you see in grocery stores and in racks on street corners. This was a new route for dh--we had a list of stops to go by, and a cassette tape that was recorded by the previous route driver to guide us on our way. At one point, he was trying to tell us about a stop--a bank. On the tape he hemmed and hawed, asked someone he couldn't see what the name of the bank was. As he was apparently driving and talking into the tape deck, he said something like, "What the heck is the name of this bank? Just a minute........." After a few seconds, the tape stated, "Drive Through....."
That's it for today. I hope I don't take forever for the next post!
Monday, November 06, 2006
"Think about the good things you have today."
As I was working at my computer the other day, I noticed a fortune out of a fortune cookie sitting on my desk. The fortune read, "Think about the good things you have today."
As this is November, and traditionally the time we here in the USA turn our thoughts to Thanksgiving and all the good things we have, I decided to blog on this. (Nice when a ready-made topic comes your way).
What do I have to be thankful for?
1. My belief in God and Jesus Christ. I am thankful that I was raised to believe in God & Christ, and that I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. That when I heard the lessons about the LDS Church, I was receptive and accepting of the lessons that I heard, that I was baptized a member, and have been a member of this church for 40 years now.
2. Being a citizen of the USA. Sure, our country's not perfect, but I'd rather be here than any other nation on the earth. We have a lot more freedoms than most. I can worship as I choose, I can travel wherever I want, whenever I want, however I want--maybe with a few more hassles than before 9/11, but still, if I decide to make a plane reservation and fly to Colorado to visit my dad--I don't have to plan in advance and ask permission from a gov't. agency.
3. My Family. I have 6 children, a great (most of the time) husband, 9 1/2 grandkids, a great brother and sister-in-law, and various and assorted other relatives whom I know and love. Without family, where are we? We have a friend who doesn't know where his family is. His mother died a few years ago, his sisters left town and do not keep in touch with him. It's sad to think that when the holidays come, he won't be spending them with his family. Sure, they're not perfect, but they're mine, and I love them anyway, "warts and all."
4. My home. It's not the fanciest place, but it's still better than a lot of homes in the world. It's a refuge, it's the place I come to and know that I can be safe here, and shut the rest of the world out if I want to.
5. My health. Not perfect, but no major ailments--just some achy, creaky joints and such that come our way with advancing age. Could be a lot worse!
6. Food to eat. We are so blessed in this nation that food is (usually) readily available to us. There are many starving in other nations, and for that matter even here. I am grateful that I have never known true hunger. My heart goes out to those who do know what it's like to be really hungry.
7. My ancestors. Those who know me, know that I have an insatiable obsession (or passion, borrowed from Nicolas Cage in "National Treasure") to know who my forefathers were. I've had plenty of success in finding them, and realizing that most of them came to this country in its beginning years and helped shape its greatness. They were not influential people, by any means. Just "people," like you and me; but it's people who make this society what it is. I am grateful that they were led here so that I could be born in this country with all the privileges and blessings that I enjoy.
8. My talents. I have nothing remarkable in the way of talents, but I have enough to keep me satisfied. I can sew reasonably well. I can knit, enjoy other crafts, have a passable singing voice, am a good listener, and I'm sure there's more I'm overlooking but these will do for starters. We all have talents. We should be thankful for them.
As we approach Thanksgiving, I hope we'll all take some time to think about what we have and what we are thankful for.
"Think about the good things you have today."
As this is November, and traditionally the time we here in the USA turn our thoughts to Thanksgiving and all the good things we have, I decided to blog on this. (Nice when a ready-made topic comes your way).
What do I have to be thankful for?
1. My belief in God and Jesus Christ. I am thankful that I was raised to believe in God & Christ, and that I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. That when I heard the lessons about the LDS Church, I was receptive and accepting of the lessons that I heard, that I was baptized a member, and have been a member of this church for 40 years now.
2. Being a citizen of the USA. Sure, our country's not perfect, but I'd rather be here than any other nation on the earth. We have a lot more freedoms than most. I can worship as I choose, I can travel wherever I want, whenever I want, however I want--maybe with a few more hassles than before 9/11, but still, if I decide to make a plane reservation and fly to Colorado to visit my dad--I don't have to plan in advance and ask permission from a gov't. agency.
3. My Family. I have 6 children, a great (most of the time) husband, 9 1/2 grandkids, a great brother and sister-in-law, and various and assorted other relatives whom I know and love. Without family, where are we? We have a friend who doesn't know where his family is. His mother died a few years ago, his sisters left town and do not keep in touch with him. It's sad to think that when the holidays come, he won't be spending them with his family. Sure, they're not perfect, but they're mine, and I love them anyway, "warts and all."
4. My home. It's not the fanciest place, but it's still better than a lot of homes in the world. It's a refuge, it's the place I come to and know that I can be safe here, and shut the rest of the world out if I want to.
5. My health. Not perfect, but no major ailments--just some achy, creaky joints and such that come our way with advancing age. Could be a lot worse!
6. Food to eat. We are so blessed in this nation that food is (usually) readily available to us. There are many starving in other nations, and for that matter even here. I am grateful that I have never known true hunger. My heart goes out to those who do know what it's like to be really hungry.
7. My ancestors. Those who know me, know that I have an insatiable obsession (or passion, borrowed from Nicolas Cage in "National Treasure") to know who my forefathers were. I've had plenty of success in finding them, and realizing that most of them came to this country in its beginning years and helped shape its greatness. They were not influential people, by any means. Just "people," like you and me; but it's people who make this society what it is. I am grateful that they were led here so that I could be born in this country with all the privileges and blessings that I enjoy.
8. My talents. I have nothing remarkable in the way of talents, but I have enough to keep me satisfied. I can sew reasonably well. I can knit, enjoy other crafts, have a passable singing voice, am a good listener, and I'm sure there's more I'm overlooking but these will do for starters. We all have talents. We should be thankful for them.
As we approach Thanksgiving, I hope we'll all take some time to think about what we have and what we are thankful for.
"Think about the good things you have today."
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Trick-or-Treat, Smell My Feet.......
Halloween is exactly one week from tonight!
Celebrating Halloween as we knew it when we were kids, is practically a thing of the past now. Schools don't have "Halloween" parties anymore, they're "Harvest" parties, if they even have a celebration. Just a few years ago we were getting 80-90 trick-or-treaters coming to our door in about a 3 hour time-span. Now we only get about 30. It's sad to see some of the old traditions going away.
I don't remember many Halloween's as a child. What I do remember is that we didn't have much in the way of costumes, like they do now. Usually a mask was it. Nothing too scary--just silly little plastic masks. Or if you had an old sheet that Mom didn't want, you cut some holes in it for eyes, and you were a ghost. I don't remember dressing up for Halloween parties at school, although I think we held them. I remember winning a trick or treat bag in 4th grade, playing Bingo in class. That was probably the very first thing I had ever won. For most of my growing up years we lived in a small neighborhood kinda out in the country. My brother & I would put on our masks and set out to trick or treat, but we never had much candy because of the smallness of the neighborhood, compared to what my own children brought home. But you got real candy bars for the most part--not the cheap little "penny candies" that a lot of people give out now. And if you were lucky, your parents drove you to a better neighborhood where you could get even more candy. And some pretty affluent people gave out money. Those were the days when "penny candy" really only cost a penny. Candy bars were a nickel, as were ice cream cones. Soda pop was a dime. If you were lucky enough to get a little money instead of candy, it was always good at the local candy or grocery store.
Once in a while we'd hear a story about someone finding a razor blade in an apple, but for the most part no one worried that we were going to be poisoned by our candy haul. Nowadays, parents have to check their kids' candy carefully, or only let them go to places where they know the residents.
Sometimes change is good, and this one probably is as well, in the long run; what with muggers and gangs terrorizing people these days. And we all know that candy sure isn't very good for you. And now, because two or three people would be offended by the traditional Halloween celebration, schools don't have those anymore.
As I give out candy to the 30-some odd kids that will darken our door next week, I'll feel sad for the changing times and will remember when things were more relaxed and easy-going, with little or no fear. For the changing of traditions often signal the changing times, and sometimes--they're not so good.
Celebrating Halloween as we knew it when we were kids, is practically a thing of the past now. Schools don't have "Halloween" parties anymore, they're "Harvest" parties, if they even have a celebration. Just a few years ago we were getting 80-90 trick-or-treaters coming to our door in about a 3 hour time-span. Now we only get about 30. It's sad to see some of the old traditions going away.
I don't remember many Halloween's as a child. What I do remember is that we didn't have much in the way of costumes, like they do now. Usually a mask was it. Nothing too scary--just silly little plastic masks. Or if you had an old sheet that Mom didn't want, you cut some holes in it for eyes, and you were a ghost. I don't remember dressing up for Halloween parties at school, although I think we held them. I remember winning a trick or treat bag in 4th grade, playing Bingo in class. That was probably the very first thing I had ever won. For most of my growing up years we lived in a small neighborhood kinda out in the country. My brother & I would put on our masks and set out to trick or treat, but we never had much candy because of the smallness of the neighborhood, compared to what my own children brought home. But you got real candy bars for the most part--not the cheap little "penny candies" that a lot of people give out now. And if you were lucky, your parents drove you to a better neighborhood where you could get even more candy. And some pretty affluent people gave out money. Those were the days when "penny candy" really only cost a penny. Candy bars were a nickel, as were ice cream cones. Soda pop was a dime. If you were lucky enough to get a little money instead of candy, it was always good at the local candy or grocery store.
Once in a while we'd hear a story about someone finding a razor blade in an apple, but for the most part no one worried that we were going to be poisoned by our candy haul. Nowadays, parents have to check their kids' candy carefully, or only let them go to places where they know the residents.
Sometimes change is good, and this one probably is as well, in the long run; what with muggers and gangs terrorizing people these days. And we all know that candy sure isn't very good for you. And now, because two or three people would be offended by the traditional Halloween celebration, schools don't have those anymore.
As I give out candy to the 30-some odd kids that will darken our door next week, I'll feel sad for the changing times and will remember when things were more relaxed and easy-going, with little or no fear. For the changing of traditions often signal the changing times, and sometimes--they're not so good.
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