Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Tues. Thanks for all the Birthday wishes!

     I am still on a sugar high.  I swear people stuffed cake and candy and ice cream in me yesterday.  I received 3 beautiful bouquets, all yellow they are so pretty.  Hub's and I tried to introduce the chicks to the older chicken and she was very mean so it looks like they will be split.  But I am not angry with her I have been to the point that I realize some mother's need to eat their young.

     I have two nursing student coming here for a few days.  I need to clean up a little around here.  I am so far behind in my shop and I need to get busy and really concentrate on what I need to get done.  No more excuses.  Remind me wasn't I really slow in January?   Not any more.  I had at least 9 prom dress calls yesterday.  It was crazy.

     I hope hub's gets into the yard tonight to clean up the mess I made:)  Yeah like that will happen. There is another whole truck load of yard waste cut and if he would load it I could take it down.

     I have a dentist appointment tomorrow to have my salivary glands looked at. The left one is really painful.  Sore to touch and chew, it did not stop me from eating cakes and crap yesterday.  Hopefully it is a stone and can be removed.

     Saga cont:

     New children were moving into the neighborhood.  Sis and I had about pushed the edge of every parent we could.  Spring days grew warmer and days became longer, we had more time to play outside.  Dad usually came home late after hitting the bar.  Mom would not start dinner until she saw the bloodshot of his eyes.  Dad was a fun happy drunk.  The neighborhood kids would all wait for him to come home and while mom was cooking dinner he would organize games in our large back yard.  Red light green light was a favorite.  We would play and laugh, Dad was a clown.  I remember all the other fathers' and Mothers would come out on their upper decks with martini or on the rocks glasses and watch dad play with us (their kids) the looks were never approving.  What  I did not realize is that Dad was smashed and they knew it, (however they were smashed in a different way). 

     A new family moved down the street named Whipple, they had 11 or 12 kids I think.  They were very different.  There were many older boys in the family and they would come down to join the games.  I just remember how clean cut and polite they were.  They also played the piano like no ones business.  Sometimes they would come into our basement and play songs on the old concert grand, they could play by ear and my mom and dad loved that.  Mr. Whipple came down one evening to check on his boys and of course found my Dad in all his splendor, but he was polite to him.  He treated dad like an equal, not like a drunk.  Soon other games were introduced, softball, kick ball, teams and laughter.  Dad was coming home earlier and earlier from work (the bar) to organize games with Mr. Whipple.  There was never any judgement.  Sis and I had been told by our peers that our dad was a dirty worker.  In other words he worked at the mill and yes they got very dirty.  He was not a professional that went to work in a suit.  He did not hide his faults.  I know that parents tried to discourage their kids from following dad like the pied piper but with Mr. Whipple along they were more lenient.

     The Whipples were Mormons.  It was whispered among the coffee klatch.  Many women got together to have coffee and serve a treat after all the kids went to school.  Even though we were low life, my mom was some what included.  First of all she was educated, was a bang up pastry cook, and was very funny.  She always served coffee when it was her turn up in my grandmother's very clean kitchen.  No one saw the semi-disaster downstairs.  Many of the women were not going to invite Mrs. Whipple because they were prejudice against her strange religion.  But mom did and she served lemonade with her treats so Mrs. Whipple would not feel out of place.  I don't remember much about Mrs. Whipple.  She was a large woman in an apron.  She was soft of speech and slow moving.  The Whipple's daughter Kathy was our age.  I loved her.

     Kathy always wore old fashioned cotton full skirt dresses.  All of her sister's and brothers dressed rather old fashioned and plain.  What I cold not figure out is why no one teased her.  No one ever talked behind her back or made fun of her clothes.  No matter what sis and I wore there was a comment.  We tried so hard to keep up and my mom was a great seamstress, but we were scoffed at every turn.  I remember so plainly getting new Yellow sandals with flowers on the toes in my Easter basket.  They matched my Easter dress.  They were so beautiful and I loved them.  I could not wait to wear them to school.  I had them on with a yellow and green jumper and one of the girls asked me where my mom had purchased them?  I told them Tempo (mom was a part time bookkeeper at Tempo).  Tempo was an early form of Walmart.  Immediately a chorus of High pitched voices started singing, "Tempo, Tempo".  These kids never had to buy anything at Tempo.  They went to Mary Jo Kelly's fathers store.  It was called Ogg's the best shoe store in town and very expensive.

     I was so ashamed.  We were lined up ready to go home and if I could have had the ground swallow me I would have.  I remember leaning against the wall of the classroom and srooging my feet up into those sandals.  I was taunted all the way out of the school and I started to run away.  The kids soon gave up and as I reached the foot bridge over the creek, I took off my beautiful sandals and threw them into the creek.  I vowed never to wear cheap shoes again.  I would some how some way get my mother to buy my shoes at Ogg's.  I never told my mother what happened to those sandals.  I knew I would be in big trouble.

cont:

Have a great and productive day,  I have to get busy!

Kim

4 comments:

  1. Kim our stories are similar in many ways. My dad was a functional drunk and went to work every day but my supposed "middle class" neighborhood I was considered lucky because my dad never beat us and no matter what he never drank the pay check away. I think that is why a tree grows in brooklyn is my favorite book. Johnny Nolan is so much like my dad.

    Happy be-lated birthday

    ReplyDelete
  2. My grandfather was the drunk in my family. He came home late and always brought me a big bag of M&Ms. ... And I have read "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" so many times my old copy is falling apart!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Happy Belated Birthday!! How did I miss it?

    ReplyDelete