Today I am 75

I have reached another milestone in my life. I am 75. I am contented. I am blessed. This is a very good time for the perpetual calendar to give me a National Holiday on my birthday, don't you think! Yep, every six and eleven years I believe it is.

I tore around like mad in my tomboy days and loved every minute of it. Then the day of reckoning came. One month before my 17th birthday, the dread disease of polio put an end to all that. My senior year of high school was not so good. Basketball was out. And that was devastating to me. Once I was able to return to school in November or so I think, I tried to go with my friends to things but it was difficult. No one fought with me for the front seat in any car we were able to muster up and, of course, I slowed them down. So, after a while, I didn't go.

I know that sounds sad, but it really isn't. I stayed home with my mother and we read books all winter. I would never have done this with her otherwise as you all well know. At the time I was miserable (I thought) but in retrospect it was a wonderful time in both our lives. We had a great time together. I love thinking about it.

I thought I would be in a wheel chair by the age of 40. I wasn't! At 50, I rode a bicycle from Mondamin to Missouri Valley (one fairly good leg), about 15 miles. The best part of this is, I didn't win the race, but I didn't come in last. There were two women much younger than I who came in last. And I still was not in a wheelchair.

This milestone has me a bit closer to that situation but I now have a brace that I wear that gives me security and is something I should have done earlier. I use my crutches a little bit more now but I can still get around and enjoy many things. I have put a rented scooter to good use at Walt Disney World the last two years with my family.

So, here I am, 75, and wondering if I will get to the next milestone. I think that at this stage in life it is closer, probably 80. I am ready for it! One day at a time!

"Bruce Almighty and Cruella de Vil"

I'm back. The fact that I can't locate that 7th grade class picture really holds me back. Actually, to be honest, it is also called procrastination.

This post is going to move way ahead in the life of my family. It's an amusing story about my husband, Bruce, my sister, Yvonne and my two granddaughters when they were small. I did not write this. I asked my daughter for permission to use her blog post because there is no way I could put this into better words. So, here it is:

"my mother says i must explain why my aunt is called cruella by my pops. lovely yvly is about as cruel as your little finger is fierce.

"when the girls were little, my dad would walk up to my aunt and say, "well, girls, there's cruella de vil. be careful of her. she's mean and heartless." well, of course, my children were absolutely horrified that their grandfather could be calling their "aunt bonnie" mean. krispy was outraged, smellery just sort of followed k's lead, but she was indignant too.

"as my mother tells me, and as near as we can recall, this probably went on one summer around the time when the movie was re-released....1996 or so? the girls would spend time with my parents in the summer, so this all started when "the olds" took them to church.

"my dad really likes to shock people. it's one of his favorite pastimes........shock and insult. it's called "teasing" but sometimes, people aren't so sure. he would say these horrible things to yv in front of everyone and they would all pass uneasy glances - "did he really just call her what i think he called her?" immediately, a blonde head and a brown head would fly over to their poor defenseless great-aunt and shower her with hugs and kisses and look ashamedly back at their gpa. then, after they were sure that their aunt bonnie was ok, they would run back over to the grandfather and try to talk some sense into him. "did he not have any idea who he was talking about? this is AUNT BONNIE!!! she's the nicest person in the world! we go to her house for holidays! she smiles at us and pats us on our heads and gets down on the floor to talk to us when we want to show her something so she's just as tall as we are. he must have lost his mind! we have to convince him that he is so wrong about her!"

"i believe they even tried to involve my mother. "gramma, he's MEAN to AUNT BONNIE!!!!" and the like. my mom would say, "oh honey, i know. but i think he's just teasing her." they would have none of that. what was happening here was a serious problem. people were going to have hurt feelings! they might not be friends anymore!

"this went on for just about forever in their little minds and my dad and yv would pass grins of delight over the top of the sweet baby heads who were fighting mightily for justice. the end of the game, i think, came just about the time my dad gave my aunt a cruella de vil ornament for christmas and she hung it right in the middle of her tree and the two of them laughed and laughed over it. i think krispy finally caught on and once she quit trying to defend yv's honor, smells let it go too. she was only 4 or 5ish?

"my dad still greets yv with, "well, if it isn't cruella!" or "how's cruella today!?!" now, krisp says, "oh aunt bonnie!!!" and runs to hug her. smells giggles and smiles over at yv...and my aunt? she still grins at him with a devilish little gleam in her eye every time."

I love my family.

A little about the present time, more about the past......

I have not posted for a long time. I had better get busy if I want posts in every month. We have had a long two months. My husband, Bruce, was diagnosed with prostate cancer and we were involved with radiation treatments. We have completed all that and are now awaiting the verdict once a test is made. Life sure does change in all its stages and we are amused that about all we get done nowadays is taking care of our infirmities. So much for the present.

Do any of you know how to prime a pump? I do. We did not have running water in our house when I was growing up. Yes, that means, no bathroom. We pumped the water and carried it in the house in a bucket. It was iron water so the bucket was red. It tasted wonderful when it was first pumped.

When people say "good old days" I think of that. And this. My mother took in washings and ironings. She would fill the boiler that she put on our cook stove in the blazing heat of our Iowa summers or freezing Iowa winters and bring it to a boil. Then she put in lye to remove the iron so the white clothes would stay white. Next, she transferred the water to the washing machine. The clothes would be put through the wringer to the rinse and back through the wringer before they could be hung outside to dry. It was an all day awful job. And that doesn't even cover the ironing. And I complained because my job was to bring in the cobs and coal for the cookstove. I have no idea how much she received to wash and iron for people but I bet she was fortunate to get $.50. They were the "not so good old days." By the way, cobs are the ears of corns once they had been shelled. We had a shed in the back yard that was partitioned with cobs on one side and coal on the other.

But I can think "good old days" also. This little town was safe. We played all over that town and no one was afraid that we wouldn't be home for supper because of something evil. There was little or no traffic. Cars were just beginning to be manufactured again after the war so we were safe. It was a simple beautiful time even though we had none of the conveniences to simplify the hard work to be done.

Our family consisted of my mother, my brother Bill, my sister Yvonne, my brother Keith and me. We lived in a Nebraska town where my father was a dentist. When he died she moved us back to their home town and families in Iowa. She was an educated woman but had lost her hearing. Therefore, she had to work so hard to support us.

You will learn more about her. She is my hero. I love her. I miss her.

Getting back into this.......

The town of Mondamin is on the bottom land about three miles from the Missouri River. And believe me, it is flat until three miles east of town where the lovely Loess Hills begin. I have never forgotten the day we decided we would climb the water tower so we could get up high and see far and wide. I was so excited. I thought it would be great. About three quarters of the way up, I looked down and immediately froze. I had no idea I was afraid of heights. Everyone laughed at me and it was so awful. I don't remember one thing about getting down where I belonged. I don't even remember if the other kids climbed to the top.

When I was in high school our entertainment was definitely not exciting. In fact, I thought I would always live in Mondamin, always have to live in Mondamin. But, we entertained ourselves in lots of ways. We did jigsaw puzzles, we played Monopoly and other games. One summer night we thought of blindfolding a person and leading them around town. After a time they would be asked where they were. It was fun, but so tame compared to what is going on today. As I said above, Mondamin is flat. We took one person up over Mrs. Eades' cellar and were very tickled because they had no idea where they were or where there could possibly be a hill in town. I don't remember doing that very much after that. Pretty hard to come up with something to top it.

The search continues.......

Boy, have I seen lots of wonderful pictures of my past. I am still looking for the 7th grade class picture. I had taken it to Mondamin so I could prove to one of my classmates that what she thought was a 7th grade picture was really the 6th. We always go to the cafe after church in that dinky little town and talk about everything, past and present. Then I came home with it and I remember thinking, I am going to put it in a safe place........ I do wish I would stop doing that. It is not the only thing in a "safe" place.

Consequently, I have been living in those days a lot. I was a goofy little kid, I know. When I was 10 and in the 5th grade, before I thought about being FOB, I wanted to be in the French Underground. They were so brave and fearless. (I have no idea what happened along the way. I no longer have that fierce desire to be French.) We were very patriotic. All of us. Adults and kids. And it was the summer after Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941. My cousin, Roy Robinson, was on Wake Island and he was a Marine. My brother Bill either was or about to become a Marine. All the kids in town were for the branch of service that their relatives were in. Contests were set up to collect scrap iron. A record of the pounds were given to whatever branch of service so we all wanted our service to be the winner. Our town was never so cleaned up. I remember having a wrestling match with Billy Sublet because he wanted to make me say the United States Navy was better than the United States Marines. I am pretty sure I didn't. That part is blurry in my memory. I saw Bill at our school reunion last summer and he was glad to see me too. Good times.

By the way, my cousin Roy survived. He was on Wake when it fell and he spent the duration of the war in a Japanese prison camp but he came home. My brothers, Bill and Keith, both on Okinawa at the same time but in different divisions, came home too. We are forever grateful to Harry Truman for that.

Hope I can find it, but in the meantime.....

I have been searching for that 7th grade class picture. I am pretty sure I have one not ruined by the basement flood waters (another story perhaps). I would like you to see Miss Clark. But happily, I did find a 7th grade picture of Flying Office Blair.

My braids were very long. They came almost to my waist in the back. And, I remember how fast my mom braided my hair every day. Like a flash. There were two little braids on each side in the front that she braided into the two big ones in the back. It was simply perfect for a baseball and basketball player.

Right now I am looking at this picture and how straight she has my part and centered decently too. She was a remarkable woman. You will be learning more about her because I have decided to post things about the past since I have so much of it. And, because my daughter and granddaughters are terrified of what I might post about them.

So, there you have it. The future of my blog. I do hope you come back.

The reason for the title........

In the school year of 1944-45, I was in the 7th grade. My teacher's name was Miss Clark. I thought she was wonderful. It is the only time I might have been the teacher's pet. It is my favorite class picture because I am sitting right beside her on the front row.

I think she enjoyed the pigtailed tomboy who had wacky ideas and impossible dreams. I signed all my papers as Flying Officer Blair. I can still see her toss her head back to laugh when she heard my reason to her question of why.

"I am going to fly to the moon some day."

I wonder if she has thought of me during space flights. I wonder especially if she did when we actually did land on the moon in 1969. I like to think she did.