Friday, February 25, 2011

The Passing Of Time

Easter 1943 (April 25)

This year Easter was a great disappointment. For one thing, it was dark and damp. Nobody want to go parading in her best clothes when it's raining. Then, the war prevented many of the gay things that usually go with Easter. There was none of the gaily colored Easter eggs, great big chocolate eggs or rabbits, or baskets filled with eggs. Cookies and cake made a poor substitute for young children. It's too common. They can have it everyday. Easter is a special day, and they should have special food.
The first thing we did on Easter morning was to go to church. My little cousin, who is only four months old, was baptized. My uncle was carrying him because it is customary for the father to carry the baby. All the fathers, mothers, and babies were lined up in front when my cousin decided he wanted to cry. My uncle did everything he could to make him stop crying, but Harry cried until just before he reached the minister. Jean, who is about five, got excited because her brother was crying that she got up and tried her best to see up to the front.
After church it was too damp to go out so I stayed at home and finished a library book that was due the next day. This Easter was so different from other Easters, since my brother wasn't at home, that it seems as if Easter is still to come. I suppose our boys feel the same way. They'll do a lot of celebrating when they come home to make up for the celebrating they've missed.


My Greatest Ambition

All my life I have had but one great desire, and that is to travel all over the world. The places i have the greatest urge to visit are: India, Africa, China, and Tibet. I will give my reasons for wanting to visit these places in particular.
India always made me think of Maharajhas or of the different classes of people refusing to mingle or intermarry. Not only the people but the country itself draws my attention. Forest, or rather jungles, wild animals, and the cities.
Africa makes me think of deserts, unexplored country, and heat--definitely heat. I'd love to go into unexplored country and discovery new things and see beautiful animals and scenery.
China, the oriental section of the world, always makes me think of silks, and incense. The weird buildings and the superstitions. The long pig-tails the Chinamen wear have always held a special attraction for me, but only the people who live further inland wear them nowadays.
Tibet, that land of mystery holds a great fascination for me. I have read stories about men going into the unexplored mountains and never coming back. It is said that some of the high priests are over a hundred years old. They put great store in the proverb that the older you grow the wiser you get. It is all this mystery and unexplored regions that attracts me.
Those are the places I would like to visit first if I could ever travel.


My Faults According To My Family

To my family I am one big fault, although there are times when they are glad I'm around, that is, when I do something for them. Maybe, though, it isn't s bad as it seems to me.
For one thing, I make too much noise. No matter what I do, it sees as if I can always find some way to make it noisy. If I do the dishes, I make an awful racket; when I do housework, I make a terrible din; even when I sing, I make an ear-rending sound, not heart-rending, although in some ways it could be very heart-rending. the harder I try the more noise I make.
For another thing, I always seem to be getting in to way or doing things wrong. in the kitchen I'm more of a hindrance than a help. When I walk I always seem to bump into something or someone or find something to trip over.
I sincerely hope that my family will, in some way, come to appreciate me for what I am. they always laugh when I say that. I wonder why?

Wednesday, February 23, 2011



This was my Valentine Gift, presented to me at work, last Monday, and I just wanted to show, for the record, that this stunning and delicate plant has not yet died in protest knowing it has me for an owner, and the black thumb that I possess. In fact, out of spite, three more blooms burst open, and several more are on the way. I'm keeping it at work for the time being, I feel its chances for survival are greater outside our home where tiny little baby hands and sharp little kitty teeth have a tendency to crush and nibble all things that cross their paths.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Friday, February 11, 2011

The Passing of Time

December 7, 1942

"December 7, 1941! Flash! Pearl Harbor attacked by Japanese."
America was dazed. Pearl Harbor bombed? Impossible! But it was true. Shockingly true. Men, women, and children practically murdered in cold blood while resting on the Sabbath. A horrible, cold blooded killing which could be accomplished only by ruthless people. That was how America entered the war one year ago today.
The only effect that the war has really had on our family is: one of my older brother's being drafted, the gas rationing, and my younger brother, George, being eligible for the draft. Sugar rationing has had no effect on us because we get more sugar than we usually use. Coffee rationing isn't so bad because we get enough of that each week too. The gas rationing, though, really hit us in a vital spot. I believe my father will still be able to ride to and from work, but he will not be able to take my mother and her friends to meetings and he will not be able to go out to Indiana on the week-ends to the cottage as he has been doing all summer. All in all, we have not been affected by the war, but other people have suffered severely by losing loved ones.
I have not been affected at all by the war. It seems that the same people are being hurt all the time. The people on the coast and those within reach of the enemy planes are the ones who suffer most. The people in the Middle West are not being touched and may never know what war really is if our borders are always so well guarded.
Looking back on the things the Japs have done since the war started, I sometimes wonder what made us send so much war material over to them. It ought to be a lesson to us not to put too much faith in people we know are liable to stab us in the back.


Christmas 1942

Christmas Eve was the night my father picked to finish his shopping, and since my mother was fixing the turkey, my sister at work, and my brother sick in bed, I was the one elected to go along with him. Now to be candid, I didn't want to go, but did I say so? You can bet your sweet life I didn't. I didn't want my father angry with me at Christmas, so I went along peacefully. Since most of the stores were closed we didn't get much shopping done. When we got home I had to help wrap packages, so to make a long story short, I got to bed at 11:00 P.M.
Christmas morning dawned but our house was quiet. Why? Because we were all so tired we didn't want to get up - a great difference between this Christmas and last Christmas. We finally dragged ourselves out of bed and gathered around the tree, oh yes, and the presents. Did I say presents? And how! But maybe there seemed to be a lot because some of them were so big. Well, it took us a while to get them all opened, and then, of course, we had to sit and talk for a while before getting breakfast.
After we had cleaned up, my sister went downtown to meet a sailor whom she had a date with. I sat and listened to records and my brother went over to his girl friend's house.
I didn't mention the turkey did I? Well that's something worth mentioning. I guess everyone will agree that an eighteen pound turkey is worth mentioning. It was 2:00 P.M. before it was ready and then three of us sat down to dinner; my mother, father, and I. My brother doesn't count since he couldn't eat much. After dinner we lay down for a rest. There's an old saying that only pigs lie down after they eat. Well, I must admit that I made a hog of myself that day. I couldn't look turkey in the face for a week after that, but maybe that's because we had it almost every night for a week after that.
After washing the dinner dishes, it was about 4:30 P.M., my mother, father, and I sat dow to play pinochle, and I must say we ended our Christmas quietly.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011



I was lucky enough to find this under the Christmas Tree and read it, cover to cover, within 48 hours. It's extraordinary and riveting. The depth and sincerity in Marilyn Monroe's writing is amazing and reveals a complex woman that was very human and was never truly given the credit for being more than a bubble-headed pin up. And in spite of that she persisted with her reading, tackling books that I have yet to crack a cover on due to their cerebral and academic content. Just one more quality that makes her fascinating and endearing, even after all these years.