Thanks Susan for helping me get the job at Carrick and for sending me off at the finish. You and Ava were a big help to me, made it a nice ending with Origami paper flying around the parking lot, your catching it.
Thanks for taking my picture in the parking lot, all packed up and ready to pull out. Hooray. I couldn’t have done it without you.
We had some fun neighbors on Lowe Street in Fort Knox, Kentucky.
The Army Housing had eight units and they lived on the end and we were in the middle. I can’t remember a single movie we saw together but we sure laughed a lot. Years later when we lived in Germany the whole family came to visit us and we have a video of that occasion.
My friend Sally found out she was expecting her son Jonathan when Mark was just a baby in 1976. Jonathan is headed back from his Army assignment in Korea and I know Sally is glad.
And somewhere in my house, I still have the cute birth announcement for their dear baby girl Jennifer, born February 26,1982.
Thirty three years ago.
This post is to honor and remember little red-haired Jennifer and all those who love her. xxooxx
First day of March and I’m a week
off but I’m blogging from my phone while sitting in the dark in my granddaughters room. Some of the family already headed out to a swim meet.
Here’s the vein of memory sparked by these photos – not for certain when Presidents Day started but will google.
My mother had a small cookie cuter in the shape of a hatchet.
Baked sugar cookies and the skinny dough hatchet handles would break off so easily.
She also made a pie like dessert with canned sour cherries and every so often you’d find a pit. I remember her stirring the juice on the stove with cornstarch to thicken, a crusty biscuit on top, baked.
This pie, a purchased one, reminded me of her efforts to celebrate Washington’s Birthday when I was growing up.
I’ve baked a chocolate log for Lincoln when the kids were small.
For this impromptu photo op, I pulled out the Presidents’ teapot J gave me and then remembered my parents George plate in the china cabinet.
The year mark (77-78) and I lived in Philadelphia while his dad was in Korea, my mom or dad would rock Mark in the big wooden rocker( it’s in his office now) and he’d look up at the blue plate on the wall and say “George” when you’d ask him “who’s that?”
You may remember the “Dear Photograph ” post two Februarys ago.
My son Mark took this photo in my
living room where the red (faded to
Rose) couch sits.
My dad is holding him when the couch was in my parents’ living room in Philadelphia in 1976.
They are both so happy on this old photo.
Here is the series of “Dear Photographs” I experimented with a couple of years ago.
A bolt of lightning knocked out the internet so blogging from my phone
Rhubarb says Spring to me.
When the three kids were younger, we’d pile in the car and drive 7 hours to New York City to visit my sister. I’d park in the lot by the pier on the Hudson and we’d make our way up the five floor walk-up to her apartment. Everyone would be asleep on the floor camping out and in the early morning, Aunt Mary would walk to Zito’s Bakery on Bleecker Street, come home with warm loaves. She’d have the butter out and a jar of her homemade strawberry rhubarb preserves. She’d slice the bread on a wooden board. That’s what the kids woke up to – warm bread and butter and strawberry rhubarb preserves-
Berenice Abbott took this photo of Zito’s in 1937.
Today I went to the Farmer’s market on the South Side and bought two bunches of rhubarb and fresh picked strawberries. I was trying to remember the method and chopped the stalks in one inch pieces, put them into a large enamel kettle and sprinkled with sugar to sit.
The loaf from the Farmers Market on the bread board, a gift from my sister.
Before Matthew was born and he’s 33!
Kids grown up and gone but tonight as I taste the strawberry rhubarb preserves, I remember.
P.S. And to answer your question Mary, on the card-
I did get that assistantship and that’s how I was able to get hired at Pittsburgh Public Schools in 1989!
P.P.S. Zito’s is gone now.
Seems like just yesterday (May 26, 1976) you arrived at Ireland Army Hospital – Fort Knox, Kentucky.
You were born exactly two years to the day from my graduation from college.
And suddenly, in a blink, it’s 38 years later!
I am proud of you and the wonderful man you have become. WOW. You have a beautiful family.
With love and gratitude on your birthday,
and of course I should have included the best present ever
Been on a bit of a Beatles kick lately….
My school colleague, Robert Baltos shared his memories of Allen School
Once upon a time there was a grade school in the Allentown neighborhood of Pittsburgh. This is a picture of my third grade class in 1956. Dwight D. Eisenhower was the president, there were 48 stars on the American flag and we were able to walk to school thanks to Dr. Jonas Salk. It is odd that sometimes I can’t remember what I did a few days ago but my memories of this wonderful place are forever intact. This was one of those photographs that my mother saved for me. I suppose that it is fitting that while I started writing this that I realized that today is her birthday. She has since passed on to her place in Heaven. I have looked at this group photo many times and I am able to recall most of the names of my classmates. We followed each other to junior and senior high school. Since then, I have never seen or heard from the majority of these people again. At the time this class picture was taken, air-raid drills were commonplace and we were convinced that World War III was at hand. Little did we know that in the not-too-distant future that some of the Class of 1966 would end up in Southeast Asia for our “senior trip” or that a young senator from Massachusetts would become our next president and be murdered in public several years later.
The teachers at Allen School were special people, the likes of which we will never see again. The teacher at the center of picture is Miss Helen Laucik, our physical education and health teacher. Like all of the teachers there, she was full of energy, ideas and compassion. She always reminded us to take care of our teeth and our feet, both of which she assured us that we would miss in our old age if we didn’t heed her warning. Mrs. Demming was our history, writing and music teacher. She predicted that there would be a currency called the “Euro”, warned us about the proliferation of socialism here and abroad and that much of what we consume would be someday be manufactured in places like China. Miss Bash was our mathematics teacher. Contrary to what some of the “experts” with their phony PhDs believe today, rote memorization of the multiplication tables and proficiency in long division, fractions and other basic arithmetic was absolutely necessary and you weren’t leaving her class without those basic skills!
Allen School closed in 1961. The students actually took their books and belongings from the desks, walked up the hill and placed them in their desks in the newly built Grandview School. However, Grandview could never replace the physical building of Allen School. Today’s architects could not imagine or duplicate such a place. On the other hand, bricks and mortar are just that. Miss Laucik, Mr. Kelly and a few others made the move that day too and taught there for many years afterward. Whey they left, they took the remaining spirit of Allen School with them. Oh, I almost forgot! Mrs. Bennett, thank you for being our librarian and teaching us how to use the Dewey Decimal System! I have a copy of the first book that you helped me select from the 600 aisle. “The Boy Electrician” by Alfred P. Morgan.
(Mr. Baltos is the third one down on the left. He still has the striped shirt!)
I was sifting through old photographs on one of the snow days. You know those awful albums with the adhesive on the pages to stick the photos to the page?
Found this shot I took (film) of my son Mark (he’ll be 38 in May) and noticed the random dad taking a family photograph.
And inspired by Toying With Thread crochet blog by Stef- it’s the new year – I created Teenagers Knit Blog and the first post is up today if you have time to check it out.
Note to self: Remember how I mugged for the camera in 1959 when I’m attempting to photograph the grandchildren in 2014!
Pittsburgh Public Schools was closed today. I did some sorting and found some old family photos. My family didn’t own a camera that I know of but I think my sister took this photo somehow and I will ask her tomorrow and add any details. My cousins may have been involved. Paul? John B?
An iPhone photo of a photo isn’t the best quality but you get the idea.
A Friend is Someone Who Likes You. (by Joan Walsh Anglund)
Can’t show you the sweet images inside as they’re copyrighted but it’s all about how lovely it is to have a friend.
I took the book to school in 1961 and the teacher, Miss Grace E. Wagner, inscribed it after I shared it.
A good friend is to be cherished.
You may not see your friend all the time, live far away, but when you’re together it is as if all the time between melts and you pick up where you left off.
Your good friend “gets you”, accepts you, and loves you, no matter what. And you love them right back!
Life events, milestones, heartaches, joys, loss and laughter. Sometimes all in the same moment. These are shared, celebrated or in the case of grief you keep one another in your hearts. Carefully. Remembering. With gratitude. And much love.
for my longtime friend – I love you. Happy Birthday!