I have always been told that I looked like my mother. This was reinforced while working at the hospital in Van Buren County. I was able to care for some of mother's coworkers. I even remember a time in Burlington , sitting in the orthodontists office and the attendant called me by mother's name, then realized that I was her daughter.
Dad gave me a small framed picture one Christmas. He asked if I knew who it was. I looked and could have sworn that a picture of me had been taken in old fashion dress..They have a lot of these in Pigeon Forge. I knew that I had not had a picture taken like this. I recognized the way the head was tilted and closed smile..just like me....
Then dad said that he knew that people always said I looked like Nellie, but the picture was of his mother and he recognized that I looked a lot like her. The picture is very special to me.
Does anyone have pictures of dad's mother? I would like to see more. Love, mom
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Grandma's pocket
When I talk about grandma it is Grandma Waddington. I recall sitting next to her at church, getting restless and she would pull out a handkerchief. You know, one of the square cloth ones that ladies used before Kleenex was popular. She would fold the square of cloth diagnally , curl the thin points inward, when the met in the middle she would the split the fold apart and..There! two babies in a cradle. I still will do this to entertain children.
She also carried sen-sen in her pocketbook. These are very tiny squares of licorice. They came in a little paper packet. What a treasure to find when Sacrament meeting got boring.
She also carried sen-sen in her pocketbook. These are very tiny squares of licorice. They came in a little paper packet. What a treasure to find when Sacrament meeting got boring.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Sisterhood
I skipped out after Sacrament meeting...I did not want to stay for Relief Society. I must confess that this has been one of my failings for years. I am not sure why, but I don't feel the sisterhood thing.
Maybe it is because I have been warped by my biological sisters? I remember mother making Barbara take me with her when she went to play with a friend down the street. Barbara grudginly allowed me to go with her but only if I stayed half-block behind her. The girls played paperdolls, you know , the kind that you bought from the store and cut out the dresses and applied to the undressed doll. I remember playing in the other room. I was given ruled paper and a pencil..left there to create my own paperdoll and dresses.
In Iowa I can remember playing hide-and-seek. I dared to go under the dark dusty frount porch to hide...snakes and spiders oh my! Only to realize that noone came looking for me. Now this may sound like paranoia but you have to understand that I remember playing cowboy and indians with my sister. They convinced me that they should tie me up to the bedpost as part of this fun game.. Joanne could usually talk any of us into following her lead. It was fun until I realized they were no longer playing the game.
I need to clarify that I do love my sisters. One-on-one I get along with them and very excited to see or hear from them. However, when we do on rare occasion get together we slip back into the old pecking order..
I use to have a reoccuring dream. It would be mid-summer and at the old farm house. I would look out the bank of kitchen windows and see a tornado approaching and yell for my family..and sisters .. to get to the basement. They did not respond to my pleadings and I would wake up just before the tornado hit..It took several times to dream this same dream before I realized what it ment, once I did the dream stopped...
Let's go back to Relief Society..I remember a time that as a single parent I was feeling very overwhelmed, I was crying out to the Lord..Who should drive up but my visiting teachers! I went running out to greet them, what timing! An answer to my prayers! Then I noticed that the sisters were not getting out of their car that was still running. The driver rolled down her window and apologized...they did not expect me to be home and just dropping by so that they could report visit: noone at home. With that she said good-by and drove away.
Relief Society lessions are pretty dry. I can read out of the manuel but teachers insist that they read to me. When I respond to questions I am usually out in left field and leave the teacher with a slightly confused look..either I was way off base or she did not understand what I had said..usually because it was not the written answer on the third paragram page 112.
Then, again, I was raised by an Arizona cowboy, and mother who both felt you did not air you dirty laundry in public. And what Relief Society sister worth her salt does not like to see dirty laundry? I raised eyebrows in Morristown when I allowed baby goats in the livingrooom..they were orphans..that's another story..so
There you go, maybe a little of the dark side from mom...Love, mom.
Maybe it is because I have been warped by my biological sisters? I remember mother making Barbara take me with her when she went to play with a friend down the street. Barbara grudginly allowed me to go with her but only if I stayed half-block behind her. The girls played paperdolls, you know , the kind that you bought from the store and cut out the dresses and applied to the undressed doll. I remember playing in the other room. I was given ruled paper and a pencil..left there to create my own paperdoll and dresses.
In Iowa I can remember playing hide-and-seek. I dared to go under the dark dusty frount porch to hide...snakes and spiders oh my! Only to realize that noone came looking for me. Now this may sound like paranoia but you have to understand that I remember playing cowboy and indians with my sister. They convinced me that they should tie me up to the bedpost as part of this fun game.. Joanne could usually talk any of us into following her lead. It was fun until I realized they were no longer playing the game.
I need to clarify that I do love my sisters. One-on-one I get along with them and very excited to see or hear from them. However, when we do on rare occasion get together we slip back into the old pecking order..
I use to have a reoccuring dream. It would be mid-summer and at the old farm house. I would look out the bank of kitchen windows and see a tornado approaching and yell for my family..and sisters .. to get to the basement. They did not respond to my pleadings and I would wake up just before the tornado hit..It took several times to dream this same dream before I realized what it ment, once I did the dream stopped...
Let's go back to Relief Society..I remember a time that as a single parent I was feeling very overwhelmed, I was crying out to the Lord..Who should drive up but my visiting teachers! I went running out to greet them, what timing! An answer to my prayers! Then I noticed that the sisters were not getting out of their car that was still running. The driver rolled down her window and apologized...they did not expect me to be home and just dropping by so that they could report visit: noone at home. With that she said good-by and drove away.
Relief Society lessions are pretty dry. I can read out of the manuel but teachers insist that they read to me. When I respond to questions I am usually out in left field and leave the teacher with a slightly confused look..either I was way off base or she did not understand what I had said..usually because it was not the written answer on the third paragram page 112.
Then, again, I was raised by an Arizona cowboy, and mother who both felt you did not air you dirty laundry in public. And what Relief Society sister worth her salt does not like to see dirty laundry? I raised eyebrows in Morristown when I allowed baby goats in the livingrooom..they were orphans..that's another story..so
There you go, maybe a little of the dark side from mom...Love, mom.
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