Twenty wishes

I just finished a book -- this has nothing to do with Runnemede, by the way -- and I want to recommend it. It is funny and it is somber -- it will make you laugh and cry.

I read anything Debbie Macomber writes -- her early books are not worth the paper they're written on, but her books written after 2000 are. I think in an effort to get notice she wrote books about men and women and added the really personal stuff to get attention -- the "personal" information -- steamy bedroom scenes, let's admit it -- did nothing to enhance the plot or enjoyment of the books.

Now, however, her books are really good. Yes, there are still the personal encounters, but they are written in a general sense and not specific.

So her newest book, Twenty Wishes, is one I grabbed as soon as it hit Kroger's bookshelf. This is part of her series on the Blossom Street store owners, and how their lives all intertwine. And I can see and almost guarantee what the next book will be based on this one. But I digress.

Twenty Wishes is about a group of recently widowed women who get together on their first Valentine's day without their respective spouses. All are depressed -- a couple more than others. And one of the women suggests that they start a list of wishes -- and they choose the number 20 -- and since they meet on a regular basis for lunch or to attend a function that is near and dear to one of the other ladies -- they discuss these wishes and how they are progress in getting these wishes granted.

These aren't hokus-pokus wishes. They are things they wish they had now or had receive prior to the losing of their spouse. And these were spouses they lost, not "significant others." So, the main character, the owner of the book shop -- a book shop like I would like to have owned at one time in my life -- leads us through these wishes made and granted with her friends, and it is a delightful book. I really did enjoy it.

It is NOT a Christian book -- in other words, it's not Karen Kingsbury, but there is some "religion" in the book. Debbie Macomber's later books show a definite turn around about life and God, another reason I like her books.

I have linked to her website in the title of this BLOG if you want to see what else she has written. I do recommend any of the books that have to do with Blossom Street.

Personal shopper

I recall a BLOG written by a friend of mine, and her desire was for a personal chef. Well, I don't wish a personal chef. I like to cook, and I do it well. There are times when I would like to go to a restaurant, but they are few and far between, because it's just too much trouble to put on a new set of clothes -- clothing that I wouldn't mind being seen in, in public. So here's to you, Stacia.

The other night I received a phone call and the person on the other end asked to speak with the person in the house who did the grocery shopping. I blithely answered, without even thinking about it, that my PERSONAL SHOPPER was not in residence right now, did the person on the phone wish to have me have my PERSONAL SHOPPER return her call.

Yes, I have a personal shopper -- just for the summer. And, I'm loving it. Actually, Megan works for me for four hours a week and one of those hours is spent Krogering. I hurt, and that's a great use of her services for me and for Alan who dislikes grocery stores -- or any store for that matter -- more than I do.

I had to relate to you all about my "personal shopper". I am truly blessed to have Megan doing these jobs for me this summer. She can get down on her knees, stand on a ladder, and we WILL get the attic and the pantry cleaned before summer's end.

Today, I received a magazine -- Creative Memory's Lasting Moments magazine. In the back there was a list of journaling ideas and it stirred my creative juices and gave me a few ideas to write about Runnemede. This isn't one of them. Don't get excited.

Switching gears -- If you want to see my recent journaling efforts you can take a peak at The Fat Lady Singeth -- there's a link on the side of the this page.

So, watch for a few remembrances of Runnemede coming in the next few days.

Star gazing

I recall when I was a teenager (and even into my 20s) laying out on the lawn of the lot next door to the house (which is now a parking lot for the church) and watching the stars and waiting for meteors.

I loved to do that. It didn't matter how cold it was. If there was a meteor shower for that night, I was out there around midnight, laying on a blanket on the cold, damp group waiting for a view of shooting stars.

I think I got my love for star gazing from my father. He had at least three telescopes, and at times he had all three of them out back pointing each one at something different -- i.e., one was pointed at the full moon, another was pointed at Saturn, and another a Jupiter. And he would call me (and anyone else who showed the least bit of interest in his hobby) and ask me to "Look, Judith. Isn't that amazing?" Most of the time I oohed and aahed, but really didn't see what I was supposed to see.


Mostly, I had my head pointed toward the Orion constellation where the meteors would be shooting from.

When I went to college I signed up for Astronomy 101 and 102. And then I signed up for the Astronomy Club -- which meant that once a month went went up on the roof of one of the buildings, looked at either a constellation from which a meteor shower was spewing forth its debris, or we looked through a telescope at Saturn's rings, or Jupiter's moons.

Those were the days!

Spring extravaganza

Each spring -- usually sometime in April before the graduation planning and practices went into full swing -- Triton (Regional High school) had a play, musical, or some such thing. This was separate from the spring concert, but might have involved many of the music students.

I was never part of Triton Troupers -- the name of the group that put on these fun-filled events. But I attended each one until I graduated.

I remember the first one was Our Town, and Nancy Touchet was one of the stars of that play. I can't remember too many of the other plays/musicals the Troup put on, but I remember that one. I believe they did Oklahoma when I was a senior.

You'd think I'd remember the one they did when I was a junior because it was one of Alan's and my few real dates -- one that cost money. One where we got to sit together and hold hands. Alan doesn't even remember going to the play with me. Does that tell you where our minds are going?

I recall, though, that we sat in the center of a row, and it was pretty much down in the front. I always prefer the back because I don't have to throw my neck back to watch. Alan can't see so he doesn't care about his neck and would rather sit on the first row. .

So, sister and brother and anyone else who went to Triton from 1958 through 1961, do you remember any of these plays/musicals that the Triton Troupers entertained us with?

If I had been able to afford the yearbooks I could check it out, but I only have one yearbook, my senior yearbook. Can you imagine not being able to come up with $15 for a yearbook? Well, dear folks, $15 might as well have been $1,000 at that time of my life. So, in my yearbook, there is nothing about that play or any other, except a variety show, which I assume was what we saw the year before since pictures for anything after March would never be in the yearbook which came out in May.

'nuf said.

Spring concerts

It was a tradition when I was growing up that there were spring concerts -- notice the word "concerts" is plural. Yes there were several.

I know somewhere in our boxes there are pictures of me playing or singing in various spring concerts.

In Runnemede, spring concerts were as much a tradition as Christmas concerts. In grade school I was in the school choir. I learned so many "show" tunes -- it seems that's what we sang, mostly.

Why am I bringing this up now? Well, I was watching South Pacific -- or two minutes of it -- a few days ago, and it reminded me of those grade school spring concerts. I remember singing songs like Once in Love with Amy, Big D, Old Man River, and Oh, what a beautiful morning.

The time frame is a little fuzzy, though. Did I sing those songs in grade school or high school? In grade school we practiced in Mrs. Renseller's classroom because it had a piano and because the doors which divided her room from Miss Charmin's room could be opened so that the "choir" of 60 children could all fit in the desks in those two classrooms. Mr. Renseller was a great choir leader. So patient with us and our young voices. There were actually two chorus groups -- the really young children, grades 1 through 4, and then the older children, grades 5 through 8.

I don't recall who attended the grade school spring concert nor where it was held, probably in the gymnasium with folding chairs for the attendees to sit upon.

Practice for the spring concert started right after Christmas. And we didn't just sing "show" tunes. I recall singing This old house (By Stuart Hamblem), Climb Every Mountain (well taht's a "show" tune), Amazing Grace, Battle Hymn of the Republic (before the Mormon Tabernacle Choir made it popular), and various southern spirituals. At Christmas we sang mostly religious songs, but that's a tale for another day.

When I went to high school, I continued singing in the school choir. I was in the full choir, the women's chorus, and the orchestra. All three of these groups had a part in the spring concert for the high school. It was an exciting evening for me. I loved it. I loved it until....

When Alan came into my life, that spring of 1960, I didn't want to go to the spring concert as a participant. I wanted to be in the audience with my sweetheart. Well, that didn't happen. However, I didn't show up the night of the concert. Alan and I did something else, and I just didn't go to the concert. I felt so guilty -- and I should have -- not that I had a great voice or was a great violinist -- but my "part" was missing.

The next day, the instrumental music teacher and voice teacher both asked me where I was. I told them I wasn't able to make it -- WHY? I didn't want to tell them that I was playing miniature golf with Alan, so I said I just couldn't get there. (Like it was a 10 minute walk to the school). Neither of those teachers were pleased, but didn't drop me from any of the school music groups.

My senior year (1960-61) before each concert, the teachers would check with me to make sure I was going to attend -- it sort of became a joke to them to make sure they didn't waste the space I took up on stage if they didn't have to.

One other annual spring concert was the recital given at the Hegeman School of Music where I studied piano, organ, violin, and music theory. I had to prepare for my piano recital, my organ recital, and the orchestra concert after all the students presented their solo numbers.

Spring was a busy time in the area of music in Runnemede, and I loved it.

School's over for the summer

I was thinking about this again, because it was on this day 51 years ago that I graduated from elementary school (grade 8). I have written about my graduation from grade school before. Just click on the graduation link for more stories about graduations that have made me what I am today!

It's June. June is hot. June has always been hot. Sometimes it's been hotter than August. Well, I graduated from grade school at the Runnemede Little League field. None of the schools in Runnemede at that time had an auditorium large enough to house the class and all the guests that would attend, so we had the ceremony at the Little League field.

I don't know how many years this tradition continued. For all I know they may still hold their 8th grade graduations at the ball field. But it was a hot night, and it was dusty. We had to wear white. White is not a color (or lack thereof) that you want to wear when it is dusty. My dress was already "gray" because it was NOT new -- it was used. So adding dust to it, didn't help anything as far as I was concerned.

It was a very depressing event for me. Puberty was in full swing and I was still skinny as a bean pole, wearing a dress that was made for a larger person than I was, held in at the waist with a satin ribbon. My dear mother didn't know what to make of my tears. They were NOT tears of joy or happiness over the dress. Mom tried to make the dress prettier for me, but nothing she could do with her needle and thread helped. It was hopeless. I was hopeless. I think you can see how ugly the dress was. It was see through, too, which didn't help matters. I had to wear a full slip and it was a little girl's slip, not a grown-up girl's slip, you know the kind with the adjustable straps.

Maybe you don't know. Back in the 50s/60s slips were an undergarment women wore no matter what, just like under pants and a bra. It was part of your under apparel. Well, a grown-up slip had straps that you could adjust (like on some bras) to make the slip shorter or longer in length. Little girl slips were just elongated little girl undershirts (sleeveless). I would post a picture of what I'm talking about here, but I might get hate mail for leud and lascivious pictures. So, my verbal picture will have to do.

Anyway, it was on a hot, dusty night in June, 51 years ago, that I left elementary school and was promoted to go on to high school. Well, that -- high school -- was really a shock for me. Some other time I'll talk about that (again).

Ellie Mae

Just got this picture yesterday. Isn't she the cutest thing? Ellie Mae was almost one when this picture was taken. I think it's one of the best we have of her. Just precious.