So I had this little Lyndi girl who liked to dart off in the opposite direction—whenever I called her–to the end of the block, if I wasn’t quick enough.

Perhaps you’ll be horrified to see my solution. That’s right–I had a kid leash for her. Not so much for everyday, of course, but this was all I could think of when we took a trip to Disneyland. I had nightmares of her taking off into a Time Square size crowd and never seeing her again. So, we simply attached her to the stroller that the baby sister was in, thinking that would at least slow her down a bit.

One particularly assertive lady saw our set up and said, “Wow. Are you afraid of something?” and I just smiled and said, “Well, not now.”  Hmph.

It was weird, but it worked and we still have our little Lyndi–to this very day.

Oh, and you’ll be happy to know that she’s been leash free for over 20 years…and counting.

Now…if we could only find that thing again…

for Miss Chompy.

:}                                                                                                                                                                          556

There was this one magical summer when I was about seven that–if I remember correctly–my sister and I turned into fish. Or so it seemed.

Living in L.A. where we did, meant that many of our friends in other neighborhoods had pools. We, however, did not. So, naturally we spent most of the summer begging our mother to ask other people’s mothers if we could come swim in their pools. Every once in a while, it worked but not often enough.

So one day–in my little kid memory–my dad came home with a swimming pool–not a sissy, baby, splashy thing but a pretty close to real, live, up-to-your-neck, no kidding swimming pool. Oh, we got our jobs done before anyone was out of bed, I’ll tell you, so that we could get the ok from mom to jump in and swim our little guts out. Now this may not seem like such a big deal to you, but I could never actually swim before this summer. I was the usually the girl on the shallow side steps–or close by. But somehow this pool, this magical pool gave me super duper swimming powers, because suddenly, I could paddle and kick and do somersaults and dive from the second step and even cannonball–without holding my nose. And to my own amazement, I didn’t drown…not even once. It was like channeling Flipper.

Yes-sir-ee, that was one special summer all right.

Too bad that when–for some reason–the pool was no longer with us, I completely, entirely, irrevocably lost my magical swimming powers. Poof! Just like that. I was reduced to sitting on the steps at the neighbors pool or hopping up and down in the kiddie side. It was like a horrible remake of Flowers For Algernon where the scientists give some simple guy an operation and he becomes a genius and then he mysteriously turns “dumb” again and…drops dead. Very sad.

I’ll tell you how sad–

When I was a senior in high school, I took a beginning swim class–with the freshmen and a couple of kids from the middle school. Our final was to swim around in the deep end for 5 minutes without touching the side.  Yeah, I pretty much drowned and they had to fish me out with a net. Got a D+ if you must know.

But I have this picture–this one picture to prove that the magical dolphin summer was real and I didn’t just dream it…and best of all…

I haven’t dropped dead.

So ha.

:}                                                                                                                                                                          563

Now I know that I left some of you hanging last week on this little cup thing. I knew that my close friends and family would know what this cup is and the significance it had…to me anyway–but they were banned from telling what they knew. It would have been cheating anyway.

So I’ll tell you.

Years ago, I did some intense research for a book I was writing called, “Ellie’s Gold.” It took place in the year 1897 when the Utah pioneers had officially been in the valley for 50 years. Salt Lake City had a huge Jubilee celebration that lasted nearly a week. The activities included parades, fireworks, games, exhibits, parties, carnivals, and concerts…just to name a few.  I’d read in and old newspaper that in commemoration of the event, the city had a special “Jubilee Cup” made that showed scenes from the “old pioneer days.” If a person wanted one–back in 1897–they had to mail order it for $1.00.  In my book, I had the family send for one. When it arrived, this is what Ellie said:

Now, I’d seen one of these cups in the Pioneer museum many years ago and it made my heart just skip a beat. There it was–for real. I even got so brave as to ask the lady at the desk if I could look at it up close and maybe even touch it…just for a second. She looked like I’d pinched her cat and said, “Why no dear.” She was a terrible sharer.

I was crushed.

So there we were, April and I, a zillion years later in the antique shop and there it sat behind the glass case.

Only this time, the lady said, “Would you like to hold it?”

“YES!” I said. There’s a slight chance I might have screamed a little. But the lady just smiled at me and put the cup in my hand. A real live, 106 year old Jubilee cup, that somebody ordered from the newspaper, and drank water out of for a long, long time and then tucked away in the attic somewhere until it was clean forgotten, for years and years by almost everybody.

Almost.

And it’s my very own now.

If you come over, I’ll let you hold it…

because some people know how to share real good.

:}

648

I forgot to mention that I did pick up a little treasure on our antique spree the other day. It would, I’m sure, be considered a silly thing to most people. But when the lady unlocked the glass case and let me hold the darn thing…my hands were shaking. See, I’d been looking for this pretty cup for about 15 years, and never thought for a second that I’d ever touch one–never mind take one home.

Now I suppose there aren’t many people on this planet that know what this even is. But I’ll give you a tiny hint…

Any guesses my friends?

Just curious.

:]

651

Back in the old days–when May 1st would come around, all the grade school kids would parade out on to the playground and each class would do a well rehearsed dance for all the parents. We practiced for weeks during our regular recess time so there was a ton of stress to do it perfectly…which of course, we did. The only hitch would be if the record–being played over the P.A. system would skip and no one would have a clue what to do. That was funny to watch…not so funny to be involved in.

Couple of things of note in this picture–

First: Being at the very end of the line means that I was officially the tallest girl in the fifth grade. Wowww–that was a big pain because it also meant, at that age that I was taller than all the boys too.  And those are some mighty big feet for a 10 year old. Again, I say wowww.

Second: Check out all those “bobby socks.” They were all the thing…you must trust me on this.

Third: I positively loved this skirt. It had cute little baskets with puppies on it. I was teased mercilessly whenever I wore it, because, well…you don’t see any other skirts with, you know…puppies, do you? Didn’t think so. But I liked it anyway, so when I was feeling particularly brave enough to be laughed at, I’d wear it.

Lastly, after all these years, I can still remember the names of the girls in line by me. Skeptical? Well, here goes:

Me, Peggy, Estelle, Lori Takiuchi, Gloria Estrada, Michi Jones, Donna Imigawa, and Valerie. Don’t you think I deserve a prize for that? I accept Cheetos and Symphony bars at the door…shamelessly.

Anyone besides me remember May Day dances at school? Tell me about it…please.

Happy May Day everyone!

662

Doesn’t this ancient picture of “Snow Babe April” remind you of the picture of the little kid who was so bundled up that they couldn’t move? Cracks me up because I completely did that to my kids. In fact, whenever Prell was wearing this snow suit–with all the extra layers beneath it–we had to carry her up the stairs because with these tall boots and thick leggings she couldn’t actually bend her knees. But I’ll tell you–she was warm.

And check out her pint sized snow man. His eyes are made out of…Doritos.Yeah, in retrospect, I find that quite odd too.

But what the heck…

we were fresh out of coal.

Hope you’re all staying warm in all this white stuff my friends.

:}

I grew up in Los Angeles back in the old days when the girls wore dresses and milk was 5 cents and everyone sat at big tables instead of desks and classes were big and we had no idea that we should be unhappy about it. I remember sitting at the table and being able to perfectly swing my leg out and kick the kid in front of me…at will.  Now, sincerely–I have no idea why I would do such a thing, because I was not a mean kid at ALL. But he was a funny guy and whenever I would whack him in the leg, he would jump and make a really–on purpose–goofy face, and bust up laughing. As a kid, I think I believed that somehow, we were, you know– playing. But now, a million years later, I’m pretty sure he was just a nice boy, who should have told me to quit it or he’d punch me in the head…but he didn’t. Shame on that silly little girl.

Anyway, I’ve always felt bad about that, and wished that I could fix it. I’d go back in time and UN-kick him about a hundred times. And so I say to the universe, “Ricky if your poor leg has healed after all these years and you don’t hate the very idea of me and if you ever just happen to read my blog and find this post–I want you to know that I have been really sorry for about 42 years that I ever-ever kicked you, and if I could I’d give you a huge bag of Cheetos and a million dollars to prove it…if I only could.

And we’d be friends.

:}

——-

Watch “Dane’s Wish“

Join Dane’s Charity Water Campaign

Exactly how does one get ball point pen off a black and white photo?

:\

So, April just sent me an email that said:

“Kindalikethis…”

Smarty pants.

In the next installment of “Techno-challenged Grammy” we’ll be wiping the baby’s chin. ha!

And just like that, Jillian writes:

“I fixed a scratch on the original photo as well as the chin thing. See what you think.”

What I think is…

Where the heck did I get all these brilliant children?!!

What a blessing…

:}

Long, long ago in a far away land, there lived a little girl that got stuck with the part of a Christmas doll in Santa’s workshop. Now this part wasn’t so bad really–I mean, seriously, how hard could it possibly be for a 6 year old to stand very still in a box for about 10 minutes? Turns out it was pretty dang hard. In fact, from the very second that the curtain opened, it was as if teeny microscopic ants started crawling all over me. My nose itched. My legs itched. My arms itched. I tried so hard not to scratch, or move or blink even.

Then, as luck would have it, one of Santa’s elves came along and started painting my rosy dolly cheeks–with a soft, fluffy paintbrush. That was it. I couldn’t hold it another second and I busted out laughing. Well the previously sweet and gentle “elf” made a very scary, stern face at me and said, “Shhhhh!!”

The audience roared with laughter, but scared the livin’ daylights and all the giggles right out of this little six year old…

for about a week.

I have since recovered.

ho ho ho…

:}

For years now–my sister’s Halloween party has always included the bobbing for apples thing. It’s a no kidding, not for the faint hearted, do or die event–let me tell you. The kids all want to do it. The guys all want to do it. And…even some of my daughters want to do it.

Y.I.K.E.S. is all I can think of to say.

Oh, I thought of one more thing–

I just don’t think I’ll ever want an apple this badly…

maybe if it was Cheetoes…

nahhh…..