Wallpaper

We had this wallpaper on one wall and the soffits in the kitchen of our house on Lorraine Street. It was called Medici. We loved it--the people and their clothing, the busyness of it, and because it had so much for your eyes to see and learn about those times. 

About a year after we sold that house the new owner invited me in to see the changes they had made. The wallpaper was gone. No surprise, I guess. It was not something everyone would like; somebody said it was too many eyes looking at them. But taking down that wallpaper was the only change the owners made that I felt sad about.

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Grandma's farm

My paternal grandfather was killed while driving a sleigh that was hit by a car. The family lived in the little house behind the barn in this picture. Afterwards, Grandma continued building the white house (behind the tree). There were two bedrooms upstairs. Downstairs was a kitchen, a bedroom, living room, dining room, pantry. and a front porch with windows. There was also a basement, but I never went down there. It was a small house, but the eight of them managed. During most of my childhood there was running water in the kitchen sink and electricity in the house. The outhouse was beside the barn. (This picture was taken after she had a toilet installed in the house. The outhouse is gone.)

  

Grandma had about 5 cows; Daisy was my favorite because she was the gentlest, but I was afraid of all of them. I sometimes had the job of bringing the cows in for milking. I would throw things at those giant animals, much bigger than I, to get them to move, but they would just calmly walk to the barn without attacking me.  I was always amazed. It was fun to watch Grandma milk the cows and squirt it into the mouths of the cats. She would never let me try milking because the cows kicked when someone unfamiliar tried to milk them. I got to drive the tractor one summer when I was around 10, while the grown-ups were haying. 

We lived in the suburbs of Washington, DC. Grandma lived in Ironwood Township, Michigan. Our every other year visits to her farm, playing with my cousins and the two girls who lived nearby: these are some of my favorite memories. 

Trafalgar Square 1974

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Why is this man surrounded by pigeons?

Mice

[No picture this time.]

Lois's dad bought a corncrib full of corn to feed their two horses. One Saturday he asked Lois and me to help him load the corn into his pickup truck so he could haul it home.

 

Lois and I started putting ears of corn into bushel baskets to carry them to the pickup. I picked up a couple of ears, and there was a family of mice, a mother and some babies. Scream! Lois's dad said we should continue loading the corn and not to worry about the mice. But they were everywhere.

 

We caught the farm carts and took them to the corncrib. They helped a little bit, first killing and eating some, then just killing some, then just playing with them, and finally they quit and went to take naps. And still there were what seemed like hundreds of mice. So Lois and I started picking the mice up by their tails and throwing them, hard, against the stone foundation of the corncrib. We killed about 50 of them that way, but many escaped, too.

 

The pickup finally was filled, and we left with her dad. He unloaded the corn at their house. We all had lunch. And then we went back for more corn. The stiffened mouse corpses were all over the places we needed to work. There were many more mice to kill as we finished loading the corn that afternoon. We even saw a rat, but we let that one get away, along with more mouse escapees.

 

That was a day I'll never forget. It wasn't fun. We just did our job the best we could figure out how to do it. If I don't know that I already did it, I would never believe that I could be such a killer. I hope I'm never haunted by all those little mouse ghosts.

Yellowjacket Warrior

One hot July, Bill donned his armor to avoid being stung while spraying the yellowjacket nest under the deck—parka, gloves, nylon net over his head and under his hat. But instead we called an exterminator.

That man sprayed the nest wearing short sleeves and shorts. These wasps only sting moving creatures. We stood still as statues with no armor and no stings.

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Family portrait

This picture was taken in about 1956. I like how happy we looked.

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Greenbelt

I spent most of my elementary years in Greenbelt, MD, the first planned community in the U.S., built during the Roosevelt years for military families. It was a great place to grow up--everything within walking distance, very little traffic but public transportation, several community events every year, and lots of kids to play with. This picture shows a station wagon and two public buses in the central area. There are hundreds more pictures in the Library of Congress archives.

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Snow

On a March 2004 visit to see my mother in Ironwood, MI, she and my stepdad took me to Lake Superior. This picture was taken from the shore, and it shows cliffs and hills of ice and snow all piled up along the shore. I walked out onto the ice (to my mother's terror and screaming that I come back) and saw caves on the other side of these hills, formed from the piled up sheets of ice that were several feet thick. It was beautiful and amazing. Someday I'd like to explore there again.
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Laundry

Children imitate their parents and older kids. I know two little girls, the younger of whom follows her big sister around, almost every step, and copies everything the older girl does. In this picture I was learning how to do something my mother did often, but hardly anybody does it anymore. It's almost an outdated skill.

Another thing I like about this picture is what it shows about the informality of playclothes that was perfectly acceptable back then. (My mother would never have allowed me outdoors in something considered inappropriate.)

Great-grandparents #1

My maternal grandfather's parents were Carl and Johanna. They came from Sweden. When my mother and her twin sister were born, Johanna took care of them for about a month while my grandmother was hospitalized with childbed fever. I once saw a picture of me standing next to my great-grandfather; I looked like I was about 6, but I don't remember him. Johanna died before I was born.

 

My nana

It is unclear where my maternal grandmother was born, but she was raised in a convent orphanage after her parents lived and died in Santiago de Cuba. The family was wealthy, and to be accepted in the higher ranks of society, they said they were from Spain. Her parents or just her father may have been, but her maternal grandmother, according to Nana's baptismal record, was a citizen of Cuba.

Elena Rosa went to northern Wisconsin with her sister and brother-in-law at the age of 17. She raised her daughters alone after she was widowed, and she worked very hard and long hours to do it. She was very strict, and she was angry more often than not with her grandchildren because of her perception that they were noisy, lazy, disobedient, and sassy.

Elena in the center, between her twin daughters.

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Grandpa from Sweden

Carl Swanson, born in Sweden in 1885, immigrated to Iron Belt, WI with his family when he was 7. He married Elena Rosa (from Cuba), and they had a pair of redheaded twin girls. Carl was a loving, gentle husband and father, but unfortunately, was killed in a mine explosion in 1925. He looks pretty young in this picture. I was told he had red hair.

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Grandpa

My grandfather, Matthias Rajala, was born in 1888 in Finland. He immigrated to Ironwood, MI when he was 18, married Ida, fathered a daughter (who died at 3 days old), then 7 sons, and was killed in 1927 (age 39) when his horse drawn sled was hit by a car. My father never talked about him to me, but I heard from cousins that he was not a kind man.

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Birthdays

My mother loved to celebrate birthdays. Until we were 10 or 12, my brother and I had birthday parties without fail. We invited all our playmates, and everyone got all dressed up in something special. We'd play games, usually outside. Then we would usually go inside and the honoree would open presents. Next, we'd all sit at the table, sing Happy Birthday when the cake came in, and eat birthday cake and ice cream with Cool-Aid. And then everyone went home, often with a little paper basket of candy. Even after we were less interested in this sort of party, our birthdays were always special days. Thanks, Mom! (This is my second birthday--I'm the shortest girl.)

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L. M. Boston

In 1975 I took a month-long UWSP class in England on children's literature. We visited many places, such as Beatrice Potter's home. I was a school librarian and was entranced by a series of books set in Green Knowe, by L.M. Boston. One feature of the trip was to be a visit to her home and land, on which Green Knowe was based, and that was the main reason I chose to take the class. But just before we went there, she told us she could only take a few of us; she was 80 and felt unable to handle large groups. Our class had a drawing. I was unlucky in the drawing, but one of the chosen who didn't much very care about going very kindly gave me her slot. I was very grateful and really thrilled to go. This picture is Lucy Boston on the left and our teacher, Lee Bernd, on the right.

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Cousin from Cuba

When I was in elementary school my mother's first cousin, who was about 20 at the time, came to the United States from Cuba, and he lived with us for several months. My mother spoke just a little Spanish and Alex spoke no English at first. The first time it snowed, Alex was really excited and went out in it, without a coat. Later, he played in the snow for quite a while with my little brother. Alex joined the U.S. army and fought in Korea. When he came back he worked as a waiter for many years, married, and had children. I lost track of him, but I know he passed away pretty long ago. Here he is, the first  day he saw snow.

See my blog Pix and Memories (http://pixmemories.blogspot.com/)

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Stonehenge

Jill and Beth, England, 1974. At that time you were still allowed to walk among the stones and touch them.

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Summer home

 

This is where we lived one summer, at Broad Creek Boy Scout Camp, where Bill worked as quartermaster. This two room cabin (sitting room and bedroom) had screen walls on 3 sides with canvas that could be rolled down at night. Beth was 13 months old when we moved in. Toilets were up the hill, showers and laundry across the valley, and we ate at the mess hall with the rest of the staff. Wearing protective clothing, I tore up all the poison ivy in front of the cabin, in an area about 20' x 20'. The peace, beauty, and time with each other and the rest of the staff made it a wonderful and memorable summer.

Five Generations

Clockwise from Noah, about 1 month old; Monica (mother); Beth (grandmother); Lynn (great-grandmother); Laura (great-great-grandmother). That was in 2000.

Death Valley National Park

On August 16, 2014 we went to Death Valley National Park. I was really excited about going there because it is not a national park you hear a lot about. It is stark but beautiful and has a variety of types of scenery. It's below sea level, and very hot. We got to go because it was only 113 degrees; had it been over 115 the bus would not have been able to handle it. It is very hard to choose just one picture to include.

I like this one for the textures and colors:

Grandma Ida

Grandma lived in Ironwood, MI. We lived in Maryland, and our rare visits to her farm were highlights of my childhood. She cooked and baked on a wood stove, and we kids loved adding things to the fire. She usually didn't mind, but we did it one very hot day and heated up the kitchen even more. She rarely got mad at us, but she sure did that day. (She still used the wood stove even after she got an electric one.)

Where to start?

A new blog and where to start? Near the beginning seems like a good place to try. 

1943. Dennis, Laura, Bill, and Lenore (now Lynn). Dad was scheduled to ship out the next day, but when morning came, he was very sick. Instead of going to sea, an ambulance took him away, and Mother, who was a meticulous housekeeper, cried and cried while watching the ambulance drive away and wiped her tears on the curtains. He had pneumonia, which was usually fatal. Penicillin saved him.