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In the morning of New Year’s Day, after we came home from church (New Year’s Day is a Holy Day of Obligation when Catholics must attend Mass), we would watch the Tournament of Roses Parade from Orange County, California. All the floats in this 2-3 hour parade were constructed completely out of natural materials: flowers, petals, grass, seeds, bark, etc. All the surfaces had to be covered with these materials and with no other types of materials. People worked for month to built these floats and glue on all those tiny materials. It is a spectacular parade if you have never seen it. There were also marching bands and dancers, and I always enjoyed the equestrian contingents, especially the charros (Mexican cowboys and cowgirls) and the Palomino horses. I don’t know why I remember tthe Palominos so well, but I do.
After the Parade, the college football bowl games would begin, and there was nothing else on television except football. Since I was not terribly interested in football at that time, I usually read one of the books I had received for Christmas. I always received books, and I was especially thrilled if I received a Nancy Drew mystery, as I exchanged them with my good friend Deborah. We were both huge Nancy Drew fans, and I still remember the hours of pleasure those books gave me. My parents also began to give me the Cherry Ames mystery series, which got me interested in nursing, and I considered becoming a Navy nurse at one time during high school. Cherry Ames was a nursing student, who then became a nurse in various capacities and solved mysteries. The key line in the stories was that the hospital director always told Cherry to wipe the rouge off her face, but she had no rouge, only naturally rosy cheeks.
Sometime in the afternoon, my mother would start badgering us to take our Christmas presents up to our rooms, since until that time they were still in the piles under the tree. I usually had also received a diary for Christmas and I looked forward to writing in it on the first day of the New Year. Unfortunately, I never had anything really exciting to write about.
Toward the end of the afternoon, my mother would often make a pizza and mini barbecued hotdogs for us to eat as we watched the football games. She often brought out a cheese ball made of bleu cheese and cheddar cheese and covered with walnuts, which we ate with crackers. Sometimes there was so left-over sparkling grape juice or apple juice to help the celebration.
After we went back to school the day after New Year’s Day (unless it was on a Friday or Saturday), my mother took down and packed away all the Christmas decorations. She took the Christmas tree out into the woods and there it stayed, lonely and bare, a memory of another Christmas.
The Geers did not have a television set, and never got one as long as they lived there, until Adam Geer died in the 1970s. Adam and Esther Geer were my sister Joanne’s godparents. They were an older couple who had no children of their own. Adam had been disabled after being subjected to poisonous gas in France during World War I. He worked with science experiments and collected precious rocks and gems. When he passed away, Esther gave his collection to the New York State Museum in Albany. Esther worked first in one of the textile mills in Utica, and then when the mill closed and moved to the southern part of the United States, she worked at a bank. Adam drove her to and from work every day, and they went to the large, oldest Catholic Church in the city, St. John’s downtown. They had no electricity lines running to their house. They used a generator to bring electricity to the home. As I mentioned, they had no television but they did have radio. Their house was built like a stone French farmhouse which Adam had seen and fallen in love with in France during the war. It had a large, wrap-around porch, a certain front door and two large main rooms on the first floor. One was used as a living room. It was a huge room, with two sofas and several chairs. It was heated by a large fireplace decorated with fleur-de-lies. The other large room was a formal dining room with french doors that opened onto the wrap-around porch. It, too, had a large fireplace for heat.
Off the dining room was the Geers bedroom and a bathroom. The other rooms on the first floor were a kitchen with a wooden-burning stove (very old-fashioned) and a breakfast nook with benches. The second flood was devoted entirely for Adam’s rock collection and science experiments. We used to visit it often. It was light and airy, a very pleasant large room. When we young, Adam would pretend with us that we were soldiers in his army. He, of course, was the general, Patrick was the sargeant (because he was a boy--Adam was a bit of a chauvinist), I was a corporal, and Joanne was a private. We went to walks in the woods and learned a lot about the woods from Adam.
When we went to visit at their house, Esther always gave us a small glass of Pepsi-Cola and Ritz crackers or graham crackers. Her Christmas present to Adam each year was always some sort of wind up toy that clapped or turned flipped. Their Christmas tree fascinated me. The lights were electric but filled with oil and when the oil heated it bubbled in its container. They were beautiful. They also had beautiful glass ornament. They gave us our Christmas gifts on Christmas night, when we went to visit them with one of our toys while our parents chatted with them, and after we had watched Adam’s collection of toys and the newest one. We went to visit after our dinner at our grandparents’ house and after we had driven to look at the Christmas lights around the city.
We also went to visit the Heilmanns. Usually Herman worked at night at the Utica Club Brewery, the beer brewery in town. He had come to the United States with his borther Gusaf and his wife Afrieda after World War II and had a very strong accent. Levina was American but learned to cook delicious German food and was an exceptional baker. Whenever we went to visit, she had a large selection of amazing baked goods--cookies, cakes, torts. They also grew raspberries on several trellises in their side yard. Another thing I remember was that they collected rainwater in a huge barrel in their back yard; this water was used for their laundry and for hair-washing because it was soft water. Our natural water from our wells was quite hard, with many minerals, which made cleaning and washing clothes difficult. It was not quite as bad as San Antonio’s water, but it wasn’t good. The city water was better, but it didn’t run lines as far as our homes
The Heilmanns collected Hummel figurines from Germany and also Dresden lady figures with lace dresses. They had many collectibles from Germany and also brought back more when they went to visit Herman’s family. And they always brought us gifts from Germany, too. Herman was from the Black Forest area of Germany, Baden-Baden, the same area as my grandmother’s father and his parents. One year, I received a baby in a wicker baby carriage and one year Levina brought me a doll dressed in traditional Black Forest dress, which was a dirndl dress and a straw hat with two large red balls on top. I don’t remember my siblings gifts.
Their Christmas tree, too, was beautiful. It was decorated with exquisite German glass ornaments and twinkling lights. Their collection of Hummels was magnificent, and their furniture was absolutely beautiful. I’m not sure if they had a television set. They, too, were childless, so they and the Geers tended to spoil the three of us and their nieces and nephews.
We were not exactly “party animals” in my family when it came to New Year’s Eve. I always wanted to stay up and “see the New Year come in,” but it was oh, so hard to stay awake until Midnight to watch the crystal ball drop from the high tower in Times Square in New York City on the television. That was usually the only celebration that was shown on television at that time. Now there are all sorts of celebrations shown on television, Dave Clark has had a “Rockin’ New Year’s Eve,” and there are numerous other celebration shown on many other channels.
Back when I was growing up, there were only three televisions channels: NBC, CBS, and the newest was ABC. All three covered the crystal ball dropping from radio tower in Times Square in New York City. Since we lived in New York State, the ball drop was in “real time.” Here in Texas now, the New Year is celebrated at midnight East Coast time, but it is only 11 p.m. here in Texas, so we have to celebrate and then wait another hour to celebrate again.
My mother usually fixed special hamburgers and small hot dogs in barbecue sauce for their New Year’s Eve party. Levina always brought a cake, and Adam and Esther brought some sort of alcoholic beverage for “high balls.” They watched the crystal ball drop, shouted “Happy New Year,” and there were kisses all around. We often watched the festivities from the stairs leading to the second floor. This tradition continued into the 1970s. So that was the exciting New Year’s Eve in our home.
On Christmas Eve, we were finally allowed to put the figurine of the Baby Jesus in the manager in the nativity scene underneath the Christmas Tree. He was the only figure who was not in the nativity scene until Christmas Eve. We three children always squabbled over which of us got to place the Baby Jesus in the nativity scene, but my mother either decided which of us would do it on a rotating basis or else she would do it herself (usually the latter).
Since Christmas Eve was technically still Advent and we were still abstaining from meat, our Christmas Evening meal was a bowl of oyster stew. I think it was an Irish tradition, but I’m not certain of that. Whatever tradition it was, I hated it. I despised oyster stew. I dislike oysters in general, but I really hated oyster stew. For my dinner, I would slurp some of the milky soup and eat many oyster crackers. For me, Christmas Eve dinner was the worst dinner of the year.
Our neighbors on the north side of us, Levina and Herman Heilmann, would always stop over on their way to Christmas Eve services at the Lutheran Church. Herman was from Germany and Levina learned to make all sorts of German Christmas cookies from his family. His brother Gus lived in town and his wife was German, so Levina learned much of her fabulous baking skills from his wife Alfrieda. (After Alfrieda and Herman had both passed away, Levina and Gus married and were together in the remaining years of their lives.) The Heilmanns would bring us a huge box of Christmas cookies and Christmas gifts for each of us. I especially looked forward to the Christmas cookies since I sort of made my Christmas Eve meal from them (after the horrendous oyster stew).
Later in the evening my grandparents and Uncle Don would come to the house to open presents with us. My grandparents and Uncle Don always came to our home on Christmas Eve to open gifts and celebrate Christmas Eve, and then they would go to Midnight Mass at Our Lady of Lourdes Church. On Christmas morning, they would go to my Aunt Elsie and Uncle Bob’s house to open gifts with my cousins. On Christmas Eve while my grandparents and Uncle Don were visiting, we would drink eggnog and eat Mrs. Heilmann’s Christmas cookies. My favorite cookies were the honey and spice Lebchuchen which were cut into a variety of shapes and lightly coated with a thin, hard sugar coating. There was two other kinds of cookie that my father and I were particularly fond of: a sort of fruit cake bars, which was a dark, cake-like cookie filled with candies fruits and nuts; and pferrinesse, or pepper cookies, small rounded mounds which tasted of anisette and were covered with white powdered sugar. Mrs. Heilmann, or as we called her “Aunt Levina,” also included star-shaped sugary cookies covered with white icing and colorful sprinkles and a spriegel cookies, which were cookies piped from a bag filled with dough into the shape of candy canes. Two types of dough were piped: one red, and one white. Then Levina twisted them together to form the candy cane. They were colorful and tasted a bit like shortbread.
I loved having Grandma and Grandpa at the house. They always seemed to enjoy seeing us open their gifts and they “oohhed” and aahhed” over the gifts we gave them. Uncle Donald enjoyed himself wherever he went and often helped assemble any toys that needed to be put together. The Christmas lights on the windows were lit as were the lights on the tree, making it a very festive occasion.
Several years, my grandmother made Della Robias, which were wreaths made of pinecones and small, plastic fruits such as pears, apples, and berries that were glued onto a circular wooden wreath shape that my father had cut out of wood for her. She taught my mother how to make them, too. They originated in Italy and originally surrounded painting by the Italian artist della Robia, from which they took there name. Our Della Robias usually held a tall red candle in the center of the wreath and made a festive decoration.
I remember that one of my favorite gifts that I received from my grandparents when I was about 4 years old was a doll house with doll furniture and little people. I adored playing with this gift and it was very difficult to pry me away from the doll house to go to bed to await Santa’s arrival.
On Christmas Eve, there were many special programs on television, which at that time was only in black and white. (Color television had not yet been invented.) I best remember the Perry Como specials, where he always sang “Ave Maria,” which is the Hail. Mary prayer in Latin. Oftentimes he also sang the Our Father. That was sung in English. There were also Christmas songs that were popular at the time on his special and there were always children gathered around him as he sang.
When we were very young, we went to church on Christmas morning, usually to the 9 a.m. Mass, since we were always up early to open our gifts from Santa. I know my parents had stayed up late into the night wrapping gits from Santa and then placing them in our designated piles under the tree. Our Christmas stockings were laid on top of the piles. After we had opened our gifts and eaten some breakfast (usually pancakes), we went to church. Church on Christmas was always very crowded, as many people who never went to church often always seemed to go to church on Christmas and Easter. My father was always ready to go early and got us into our winter outerwear and we always go to church early enough to get seats in the pews. However, the ushers squeezed as many people as possible into the pews so we were always cramped. The rest of the people had to stand in the back of the church.
The same was true when we started to go to Midnight Mass at St. John the Evangelist Church, our home church, when we were older. It was usually a candle-light ceremony and a High Mass, which meant that the choir sang the responses to the priest as he said the Mass. Before Mass began, the choir sang Christmas carols and they also sang them at appropriate times during the Mass. Often all three priests at our church celebrated Midnight Mass together, called con-celebration. Since nearly everyone received communion, it took a while for the Mass to be celebrated. It began about 11:30 p.m. with Christmas carols and we arrived back home about 1:30 a.m.
We were all very tired by that time, and we children went straight to bed, but my poor parents still had to fix our Christmas presents for the next morning. Christmas Eve was a long night.
Thanksgiving dinner was held in the late afternoon so that my Uncle Rick and his sons could watch the Thanksgiving Day football game that was traditionally held between the Chicago Bear and the Detroit Lions. Uncle Rick loved football and loved to play and watch golf on television. My grandparents’, who really didn’t care about sports, always took into consideration Uncle Rick’s love of football. So we ate around 4 p.m. when the game was finished.
The dining room was set up with the good china and crystal and we were dressed up and on our best behavior. My mother and Aunt Emily always brought a dish or two to contribute to the meal. One year, my grandmother started serving “green salad,” a jello salad made with marshmallows, lime jello, pineapple, mandarine oranges, and sour cream, which Grandma told Uncle Fred was “salad cream” since he insisted that he did not like sour cream. “Green Salad” began a staple at Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, and Uncle Fred loved it!
When we and our grandparents grew older, my mother and Aunt Emily alternated having Thanksgiving and Christmas at each others’ houses. When I was about a sophomore in college, it was Aunt Emily’s turn to have Thanksgiving at her house. When we walked into the house, Aunt Emily was distraught and the entire kitchen sink was torn apart. Apparently, the water was not working in the kitchen; there was not water at all. Aunt Emily did not know what to do. There was nothing wrong with cooking the food, It was just that nothing could be washed in the kitchen when dinner was over.
My Grandma commonly told everyone not to worry. She had a plan. So we all have a nice dinner and enjoyed ourselves. When it came time to clean up, Grandma’s plan came into action. “We’ll wash the dishes in the bathtub,” she announced. What a great idea! Uncle Fred and I took turns washing the dishes and pots and pans in the tub in the bathroom, while my grandmother dried them while sitting on the toilet seat. Problem solved.
On Christmas Eve, our neighbors from next door, who were of German heritage, would bring us gifts and a large box of German Christmas cookies. For me, that was the highlight of Christmas Eve, even though we were allowed to open one of our gifts on Christmas Eve.
My grandparents and Uncle Donald came to the house on Christmas Eve and gave us our gifts and we gave them theirs. Then they went to my aunt and uncle’s house on Christmas morning to open gifts with them and my cousins. My grandparents and Uncle Donald always went to Midnight Mass at their church. We usually went to Mass on Christmas morning after opening our gifts (meaning we didn’t get to play with our toys until later). My aunt and uncle and cousins also went to Midnight Mass with my grandparents, as they attended the same church.
When we were young and still believed in Santa Claus, the the same routine had been followed, but when we were older, we did go to Midnight Mass at our church in New Hartford. It was usually a candle-light ceremony, and a High Mass, sung by the choir, and Christmas carols. It seemed to go on forever. It was made worse for me when my mother sang. She could not carry a note in a bucket. Truly, she sounded like some strange creature with a raspy voice that was totally out of tune, not even beginning to follow the melody of the song.
We went to Midnight Mass when I was older, I think, because my parents were hoping that we would be so exhausted that we would not get up early. When we were young, we would all wake up early and try to sneak down the stairs to see what Santa had brought. If it was too early, we would be sent back upstairs and told to wait until a more reasonable hour. It was torture.
We all--aunt, uncles, cousins and our family--would go to my grandparents’ house for dinner on Christmas afternoon. In my family, we would be allowed to bring one of our toys to play with. We usually had turkey and my mother and aunt also brought dishes to be served. The dining room was sent for all 14 of us. We were dressed up and on our best behavior at our grandparents’ house. We had much respect for our grandparents. When our grandparents were older, we alternated having Christmas afternoon dinner between our house and my aunt and uncle’s house.
After spending the afternoon at Christmas dinner, It became our tradition to drive around the city to look at the Christmas lights on peoples’ houses. We also always visited the General Electric (GE) plant in town, where they displays and a life-size nativity scene set up on their factory property. This tradition continued even when we were older.
I will tell you a story that involved a trick that someone (I think my Uncle Don) played on me when I was very young. I was told to go to bed; Pat and Joanne had gone to bed, but I was not cooperating. Suddenly I hear sleigh bells, and looked at the front living room window, where--I swear--I saw Santa Claus. That was enough to make me run up the stairs to my room, so I would be sure that Santa would not pass me by.
Christmas trees are a very central part of Christmas, as you well know. We got our Christmas tree usually by going out into the surrounding fields around our house, pulling a sled behind us, and finding a good-shaped Christmas tree. Our father and we children would select the tree, put it on the sled, and pull it home. At home, Mom usually had hot chocolate and cookies waiting for us, as it was usually cold and snowy. When we were very young, our parents bought a Christmas tree from one of the Christmas lots that dotted the city.
We usually got our tree about two weeks before Christmas, on a weekend. Then we would set it up in the living room at the far end of the room. First, my father would string the lights around and through the tree. He had a penchant for blue lights as he got older. He said they looked “heavenly,” but when we were young, we did have multi-colored lights. We children were allowed to hang plastic icicles when we were young. As we got older, we we allowed to take over arranging the glass ornaments on the tree. We had to be careful that the ornaments were hung in a well-balanced fashion around the tree--but not in the back of the tree that was next to the wall. My mother was the arbiter of what was well-balanced.
Then we hung filmy plastic silver-colored icicles on the tree. There was also an argument with my mother about the icicle hanging. She thought we hung too many icicles in one place at a time--”You’re clumping them!” she would yell. So it was very important that we paid attention to this tedious task as we hung one or two icicles at a time on the tree. If seemed to take forever to cover the tree!
The final task was to set up the nativity scene underneath the tree on a bed of cotton that had sparkles glued on it. The nativity set was ceramic and thus, breakable. We were not allowed to touch it until we were each about 5 years old for fear that we would beak the figurines. There was a stable, the Blessed Virgin, Joseph, an angel glued to the top of the stable, two or three shepherds (one carried a sheep), a sheep, a cow, a camel, and three wise men (or three kings, as they are sometimes called because no one wants to admit that they were astrologers). The baby Jesus in the manager was the pièce de résistance. It was added on the evening of December 24, Christmas Eve. Since the temptation to place with the figurines was sometimes almost unbearable, we would often sneek under the tree to play with them.
In the meantime, my father would string the outdoor Christmas lights. Well, early on, they were inside, around the two front large windows, one in the kitchen and one in the living room. Later, during his “blue” period, my father built a huge wooden cross, onto which we stapled evergreen branches and then he strung with blue lights. That was secured to our front door and two spotlights were focused on it. We never used the front door, so that was not a problem. My mother hung an evergreen wreath on the back door, which was the door we always used. These were our Christmas decorations until I graduated from high school.
Today, I have a confession to make, I am TERRIBLE with money. I have had plenty of money in my later life, but I have done one of two things with it, generally. I have spent it foolishly and impulsively on myself, or I have spent over generously on those I love. My second marriage broken up (finally) over the issue of my debts.
I am sincerely hoping that I will learn, even at this stage of life, to be wise in my spending, to realize I cannot buy love from others by giving them things or loaning money unwisely, to buy only things I need and not impulsively buy things I want on a whim.
This is a short post, but an important lesson that I would like to pass on to my daughter and granddaughters, and whoever comes after me. Money is not the most important thing in life. It can make life easier, but only if you use it wisely.
Today I decided that I would write about my "other" parents, my Godparents. In the Catholic Church and in many other Christian churches, when a child is baptized or christened, two people "sponsor" the child and become his or her Godparents. The duty of the Godparents is to set a good example for the child and to encourage his or her religious education throughout life.
My Godparents were my Aunt Elsie McCarthy Samson, my Uncle Bob's wife (my mother's best friend and sister-in-law of my mother and father) and my Uncle Donald Robert Samson, my father's middle brother (my mother's brother-in-law). I think my parents made an excellent selection. We have a small family on my father's side in the Utica area where we lived, and I grew up being very close to both my Godparents.
Aunt Elsie had all boys as children. I know she would have dearly loved to have had a girl, but that was not to be. I was only 9 months younger than her second child Michael, and he and his older brother John and I grew up closely with one another. In some ways, I am closer to them than I am to be own brother. I sometimes stayed at my aunt and uncle's home as a small child, and I loved that. I got to play with my cousins (who always treated me as an equal), and Aunt Elsie cooked my favorite foods, fixed my hair, let me play "dress-up" in her clothes and shoes, and generally treated me like a princess. Until my sister was born nearly 2 1/2 years after my birth, I was the only girl of the Samson cousins and much loved by all my family.
My mother and Aunt Elsie had become best friends when my mother was in Business College in Charlottesville, Virginia. Aunt Elsie lived in Amherst, VA, and attended Sweet Briar College, a small college for women. After Aunt Elsie met and married Uncle Bob, my mother met my father, Uncle Bob's oldest brother, on a visit to New York to see Aunt Elsie. So my parents were always close to Uncle Bob and Aunt Elsie and their family. Later in life, my mother became jealous of Aunt Elsie, I think because Elsie and my grandmother got along better, I adored Aunt Elsie, and my mother had some emotional problems that contributed to her jealousy.
When my Aunt Elsie and Uncle Bob moved to a newly built house in Vernon, their church had a Mother/Daughter Communion Breakfast once a year. The women of the church and their daughters would go to a special Mass and then to a restaurant for a nice breakfast. Since Elsie had no daughters, she "borrowed" her Goddaughter (me!) for these breakfasts. I loved going to her house and going to church and breakfast with her. I was so proud to be her "daughter," and often wished I could REALLY be her daughter, because my mother and I did not get along well.
Aunt Elsie also gave me her vanity/dresser when she bought a new one. It was blonde wood with a huge mirror, six drawers and a space to sit in the middle with a glass divider. I loved it. I felt so grown up using it. When I was able 12 or 13 years old, she also gave me some of her clothes and shoes. She was an extremely petite woman and at that age, I was able to wear her clothes and shoes. (I later grew too much :-( ). She would also give me her old copies of Glamour magazine, a fashion magazine which I loved to look at. My mother never bought such magazines; she bought Family Circle and Women's Day, magazines that had crafts and cooking rather than fashion.
Aunt Elsie died of pancreatic cancer in July 1975, just about a month before Sabrina was born. She had given me a baby shower, even though she was ill. She did not live to see her granddaughter Caroline, born two weeks after her death. She was only 54 years old. I miss her everyday of my life.
Uncle Donald was my favorite uncle. He always treated me like a special person; he listened to me when I had something to say, and respected me. He liked photography. I remember one time all of us were at my grandparents' house where my Uncle Donald lived. He had set up a little photo studio in his room and he took color portraits of all of the cousins (Tim was not yet born). He took individual portraits and then portraits of my brother and sister and me, and also a portrait of all of the cousin (6 at that time). They were beautiful photos. I had my hair in braids and wore a red jumper and white blouse. It was exciting to have my picture taken.
My uncle was very religious. He went to Mass often (on days other than Sunday) and belonged to Our Lady of Lourdes Nocturnal Adoration Society. This meant that once a month or so, he would go to the church during the night and prayer before the Blessed Sacrament for a hour. This society made sure that someone was always praying before the Blessed Sacrament.
I got to know my uncle very well when I was in high school. I always went to my grandparents' house for dinner every Wednesday night and I learned a lot about my uncle from our dinners. He was the Vice President of Sales for a company that made machine parts and traveled often, or often took clients out to dinner. He drove my grandparents wherever they needed to go, since my grandmother did not drive and my grandfather had given up his license. He took care of all my grandfather's brother Nick's financial affairs. He was NOT an easy person to deal with, but Uncle Don was always patient with him. He adopted a child in need overseas as a sponsored child for many years. He was incredibly generous to all his nieces and nephews, although some of them took advantage of his generosity.
Whenever Uncle Don went on vacation, he always sent us postcards and brought us back gifts. His best friend was a friend from the Navy from World War II, Andy Geddis, who lived in Amsterdam, NY, and he and Andy always went on vacation together. They often went to Mexico; Puerta Villarta was a favorite destination. He brought a back beautiful portrait of the Virgin of Guadelupe and a wooden carving one time. Uncle Don also enjoyed music. He had a piano, and then bought an organ which he loved to play. He was smart, funny, and very caring.
It was he who bought a house from a Jewish couple and taught us about kissing the mezzuzah when we entered or left the house. He never ate left-overs! He was a good cook; I remember him often cooking at my grandparents' on Wednesday nights. He tried to eat health. His cholesterol level was high and there were no statins then, so he was careful about eating high cholesterol foods.
He died suddenly of congestive heart failure in June 1995, just before we knew Sabrina was having twins. I think about him often and miss him terribly.
I decided that since it is approaching Christmastime, I would write about one of the favorite Christmas gifts I ever received. My number one favorite Christmas gift would have to be a book, called All About Archeology. http://www.amazon.com/About-Archeology-Anne-Terry-White/dp/B001MJNPVY/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1293802151&sr=8-2It was a gift from my parents when I was about 9 or 10 years old. It was part of a series of books, All About..., that were introductions to various subjects. This was my introduction to the world of archeology.
I had not heard of archeology before. I, of course, immediately began to read the book and a new wonderful world opened up for me. The book explained what archeology was, and then reviewed the main explorations and discoveries and archeologists, such as the discoveries in Ur and the ziggaurats, the Egyptian pyramids, the discovery of Kin Tut's tomb by Howard Carter, and the Maya Pyramids. I became very interested in Egyptian culture and also in Maya culture. These interests continue until this day. I took courses in high school and college, where I majored in sociology (the study of societies), and I also became interested in anthropology and the work of Margaret Mead.
Another wonder Christmas gift was a mosaic kit that my parents gave me. It was an icon mosaic of the Virgin and Child. I knew little about mosaics at that point (around 12 0r 13 years) and really enjoyed completing the project. Little did I know that nearly 45 years later I would take a mosaic class at the Southwest School of Art and Craft in San Antonio, and discover how much I loved making mosaics. I have not had much time or space to work on my mosaics, but it seems to be the medium that I love to work with most of all.
When I was quite young, I had a Ginny doll. They were very popular when I was in elementary school. One of my siblings gave me a roller skating outfit for my Ginny doll. The skates really worked and it had a little blue vest and white skirt. I was very thrilled with that gift.
I loved dolls and was always thrilled when Santa Claus left me a doll. I mentioned the Ginny doll, an eighth-inch tall doll with a young girl's face which was very popular when I was in elementary school. Barbie dolls had not yet been developed when I was young. My sister had a Barbie doll when she was about 10; I was 13 and considered too old for dolls. However, truth to tell, I would sneak and play with my sister's Barbie doll when she was not around! Other memorable dolls I had were a bride doll, about 18 inches tall, and a ballerina doll, about the same size. I was enthralled by dancing, and the ballerina doll had pointe shoes, a pink tutu, and dark hair in a bun. I loved playing with her and pretending I was that doll and dancing and dancing in ballets.
And a couple of years ago, my daughter Sabrina gave me a rather unique gift. I owe a square foot of land in Ireland! She bought it for me and make a scrapbook about it. It is in County Tipperary and has directions to the land. One branch of my relatives comes from that county, so that was a special gift. It was special, too, because it was one of the few gifts from my daughter that she seemed to have really put thought into and knew that I would love such an unique gift. Previous gifts from my daughter were a foot bath, and two outfits that were the exact same color. Those were a little strange.
Gifts that I received that I did not care so much about were the usual winter gifts that children in New York receive--winter hats, mittens or gloves, scarves, boots, etc. We also always received very practical and gifts few children would be excited about--underwear, vests, socks, etc. Would YOU be excited with those kinds of gifts? I wasn't.
The thing that really upset me about Christmas presents was that after we had stopped believing in Santa Claus, my sister would extort money from me over Christmas gifts. Here is how she did it. Joanne would scour the house and always find the hiding places where my parents had stashed away our Christmas gifts, so she knew what each of us would be receiving from our parents as well as what she was giving to us. Our parents never wrapped our presents until Christmas Eve, so it was easy to tell what we were getting. I loved being surprised on Christmas morning, so Joanne would demand part of our allowance NOT to tell us what we were getting. That's extortion! I don't know if my brother cared so much about being surprised, but I did NOT want to know what my gifts were going to be. Maybe I was afraid that I would be disappointed if I found out what the presents were. Maybe I just wanted to be surprised on Christmas morning. Whatever the reason, I always paid up and didn't tell my parents that Joanne had found the presents. She would have been in BIG trouble!
Now I am at the point in my life where I enjoy giving gifts to those I love rather than receiving gifts, especially gift bought just to give me something.
Today is the 30th anniversary of John Lennon's death, a very sad anniversary indeed. John Lennon was one of the Beatles, a very popular British band in the 1960s and 1970s. In fact, they were the biggest band when I was in high school
I remember the first time I heard a Beatles' song. It was "I Want To Hold Your Hand." When I first heard it on the radio in January 1965, I couldn't believe what a fabulous band this was. I was a freshman in high school; John F. Kennedy, our president, had just been murdered in November. Everyone needed something to be happy and excited about. The Beatles were just what we needed.
The Beatles were a huge hit in Great Britain and in Europe. "I Want To Hold Your Hand" was their first single and first album released in America. In February 1965, the band came to the United States and appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show, a Sunday night variety show. Teenagers all over were glued to their black-and-white TV sets to watch them perform. Their style was called "mod," for modern. They had longer hair than most boys had, with long bangs. Girls would scream and faint at their concerts. They were the beginning of the British invasion of bands such as the Rolling Stones.
John Lennon and Paul McCartney (the cute Beatle) wrote most of the bands songs. Lennon and McCartney were an extremely prolific song writing team. The other Beatles were George Harrison (the quiet Beatle, who died a few years ago from a brain tumor) and Ringo Starr, the drummer who wore lots of rings. John was the intellectual; he wrote poetry and drew pictures. He had been an art student. The Beatles were always innovative. Everything they did was so different from what they had done previously. They introduced the Western world to the Indian music of Ravi Shankar.
When the Beatles split up in the 1970s, they each continued music on their own. John met and married a Japanese artist, Yoko Ono, and became a peace activist. They lived in New York City. Paul and his wife Linda made many songs for movies and other activities. George worked with people such as Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, and Roy Orbison. Ringo worked in movies and other endeavors.
Thirty years ago, as John and his wife walked home from dinner in New York City, a deranged fan shot and killed John. The world was in shock. We had lost a great artist and visionary. One of his most famous songs is "Imagine." You should look up the lyrics and read them. We would like to live in such a world that he imagined. Rest in Peace, John.
