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.