It’s Thanksgiving Day in America and I have spent some time today studying vintage postcards and images on the internet. This image popped up on someone’s Pinterest board about vintage Thanksgiving. You should go look at their many pins over there. They have some good stuff.
This lady reminds me of my grandma. You can bet her stuffing didn’t come from a box and you have to wonder how many children were rocked to sleep in those strong arms. “Grandma will find you a cookie,” I can hear her say.
Look how joyful she is!
When you are a cook and a caregiver, feeding your family is a blessing and joy so Thanksgiving must be a truly happy day for those folks.
As for me, my sugar cookies are homemade as is the butterscotch filling for my pie. But don’t tell anyone….. the pie crust is from the frozen food section! I’ll make the crust from scratch next time.
Wherever you are, I hope for at least a while in your life you had someone like this lady who brought this level of joy to feeding their family.
This is just a three day workweek for me since I had a long weekend out gallivanting. No offense to my job or other aspects of my regular life because I’m grateful for all of it…. but … TGIF.
It’s so easy to get sucked back into everyone else’s troubles, bad work habits, and all the daily annoyances that tug at our brains and demand attention.
For this week, though, I have been working to mentally pull myself away from all of that at least for a moment or two at a time. When my brain starts to latch on to something negative, I take myself back to one particular moment on Saturday night.
After a glorious day of exploring the shores of a fairytale land called Presque Isle State Park, some light book shopping, and sipping milkshakes, we headed back to the beach to witness the sunset.
We left our shoes in the car but took towels and jackets. We took books in place of troubles. We took cold drinks instead of worries.
We staked out a spot on a small peninsula where the waves might trick you into believing you’re at the ocean and not at the Lake Erie shore in Pennsylvania. We dug our toes into the sand and I used my bag as a pillow while reclining to read.
As the sun began to descend, lower and lower against the horizon, the pleasantly warm day began to feel pleasantly cool. I stood to put on a light jacket. That’s when I noticed a large gathering of gulls on the rocks. All faced the western horizon as though they too were excited to see the cotton candy sky, colors so special that they can only be created by the setting sun.
And then, without warning, all those gulls simultaneously took off and left us alone to focus on the sky.
There was a slight breeze and the sand was turning cooler beneath my feet. I shuddered when a young woman waded out into the lake for one last dip in the golden hour.
I wondered aloud about the water temperature but she was happy doing her thing and I was happy doing mine.
And this, my friends, is where I am disappearing to in my brain when too much of the real world tries to crowd in this week.
We all need a happy memory, something with lots of sensory details that we can grab hold of and escape to when the world gets to be too much. I’m grateful for mine and encourage you to dig through your memories for one of your own. If you don’t have one, better go out and make some!
All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl. That’s how I have felt lately. There just haven’t been a lot of opportunities to get out and explore. Even hiking has been a challenge this summer.
So when I learned yesterday morning that it was opening day for the sunflower patch at Walker Farms in the Hocking Hills AND when I realized I would be passing right by after work, there was no doubt I would go.
If you were there, I was the one in dress pants and chunky heels. If there were more than five people present the entire time I was there, I might have felt out of place.
Only about half the flowers were open and I saw just two varieties in bloom, but it was a lovely experience.
It was about 70 degrees, a far cry from the sweltering heat and humidity that have marred this summer. The sky was blue with some interesting cloud formations and it was a relief to be away from humans and among the living,
The living in this case consisted mostly of gorgeous flowers along with countless bees and some butterflies.
They have some fun props including a tricycle and some old doors that are perfect for photo ops. I imagine a lot of kids will do senior pictures there next month. There’s an old tractor and hay wagon that I believe they will use for actual hay rides on weekends during the u-pick pumpkin season.
I’m glad for places like this. For one thing, they give small farmers a different way to monetize their fields. They give kids and families a place to learn about farms and maybe learn where food comes from. They give everyone something beautiful and peaceful to enjoy. They also give pollinators a fabulous and safe playground.
We are all winners!
I stood amidst the flowers and drank in the fresh air. I could still hear traffic from the busy four lane highway nearby but it didn’t ruin the experience too much. I had been to training in Columbus and had seen and heard much worse on the way home in terms of traffic.
Planting my feet in a field was exactly what I needed.
It reminded me of the garden my grandparents grew when I was a kid. I remember “helping” when I was little. I’m sure I wasn’t that helpful but I do remember the smell of dirt and fresh beans, the taste of cold watermelon on the front porch, and the sticky silks of corn that we husked together.
I would love to have a garden like theirs but, in reality, it would be an impressive patch of weeds. They had both grown up knowing exactly how to best use their seeds by planting properly and at the right time. Growing vegetables requires more precision and patience than I will ever have.
So, instead, my vegetables come from the store but my memories come from somewhere far away. I harvest them when I can but nowhere are they richer or more alive than when I stand in a place like this sunflower field.
Farmers across Ohio now plant fields of sunflower and let folks visit for a few bucks. Find one near you and go enjoy!
CBS yesterday morning ran a profile on the Goodyear Blimp. What’s a ride like? How do you get a ride? The pilot they interviewed starting out cutting the grass many years ago and now has logged thousands of hours in this airship. The Blimp celebrated its 100th birthday this week so it’s getting a lot of attention right now.
This story got me to thinking about one surprising summer day when I saw the blimp float past our home here in southern Ohio. It was the nineties. I was a teenager and was so shocked I could hardly breathe as it floated by. Unfortunately, it was the nineties so I didn’t have an iPhone in my hand to quickly grab a picture. There was no time to run and grab a camera.
There was hardly time to register what I was seeing before it slipped from view.
I was sitting on the side porch of our home. Probably reading if I know me. It was a quiet day and movement out of the corner of my eye caused me to look up as the nose of that amazing airship soundlessly moved into view. I have always wondered where they were headed and what the heck they were doing flying west to east across my rural neck of the woods. I was also surprised at how low it was flying.
For a country kid who grew up in a poor part of Appalachian Ohio, it was pretty special seeing the Goodyear Blimp so close it felt like I could reach out and touch it. Until then I had only ever seen one on television.
The news story jarred loose this memory along with a nearly surrendered desire to take a ride in the blimp. I looked it up again to be sure but you can’t typically buy a ride. Their website says they give away rides for charity fundraisers (which is an amazing thing for a company to do) and that they keep a full schedule where the eight passenger gondola is occupied by media members, charity auction winners and corporate partners.
Sigh. My odds of being any of those things are pretty slim but a girl can hope!
I have only a memory of those few seconds and no proof that it even happened so you’ll have to take my word for it. What I wouldn’t give for an image to remember it by and to share with others who think that nothing exciting ever happens here.
When I was a kid, my grandma had a seemingly endless supply of Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit gum in her pocketbook. A stick of Juicy Fruit has a refreshing fruity flavor that lasts for approximately 22.5 seconds. Nonetheless, I enjoyed being offered a piece and did my best to make the flavor last before blowing bubbles until it was too stiff to chew.
I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately. My purse is about as disorganized as her pocketbook always was and there’s usually some gum lurking in there. Although, mine is always something minty and never Juicy Fruit.
Grandma didn’t drive so my mother typically took her to the grocery store when I was small. I often was offered a stick of gum while I hung out in the back seat of their car or slid around on the backseat of our family station wagon. This was back before seat belts were a big deal, of course. That leather seat was blazing hot in the summer and slick as could be the rest of the year, leaving me bouncing off the seat when we hit a bump and holding on tight as we took the curves.
We always went to a nearby town to hit a couple of grocery stores, a local bakery and a few other places. She liked going to more than one grocery store to get the buys and to find the products she wanted. I do that too.
Lunch often came from the Dairy Queen where we would get a Full Meal Deal – a sandwich, fries, drink AND sundae! That was a bargain and a treat. Now we call it the DQ. I drive by often but never think to go there. After all, they serve your Blizzard upside down but they don’t have the Full Meal Deal anymore.
Earlier this week I made boiled potatoes for dinner. These were a staple on her table and, as it turns out, a taste of my childhood. Every time I make them I simultaneously wonder why I don’t do it more often and why they taste so amazing. Really, if you want to eat a potato that tastes like the most potatoe-y of all the potatoes, just drop it in a pot of boiling water. I have vivid memories of my grandpa smashing a potato on his plate so that it was fluffy and soft. Now I take my time doing the same and enjoying the heat and the delectable smell of such a simple pleasure.
Last night I had to stop at the store to pick up something for my parents and was delighted to see Juicy Fruit flavored bubble gum on the rack at the check out. I bought a pack, tore it open and enjoyed popping bubbles as I headed down memory lane. I’ll put the pack in my purse and maybe pull out a piece and think of her the next time I go for a drive. While the flavor may not last long, the memories are forever.
What travel memories stick with you the most? Which ones are your happiest? For me, it’s rarely what I plan or expect in any way. It’s often the stuff there was no way to foresee and the things I just stumble into.
My cousin and I had several of these moments in Michigan last year. We got up one morning to hike at Sleeping Bear Dunes and to visit Point Betsie Lighthouse. When we left out Traverse City hotel, it was looking to be a decent day but there was a threat of storms at Sleeping Bear. Boy, were there storms. When we arrived at the visitors’ center, the sky had turned dark and had opened up into a torrential downpour.
So, we skipped the hike and drove out to Point Betsie, an 1858 era lighthouse on the shore of Lake Michigan. It’s fully automated now and the free museum had just closed for the season so we could only walk around outside. Since we were so close, we thought we should at least go see it before heading back to town for some thrifiting and lunch at a vintage pancake house.
Unfortunately, I was poorly attired for this venture. Actually, I think we both were but I really regretted my decision to wear shorts and a tank top the minute I forced my car door open against the wind.
Indian Summer had vanished in the blink of an eye, taking with it my illusions that it would eventually warm up. Michigan weather can turn on a dime and it’s no joke when it does.
We donned our hats and headed to the lake shore for a few photos and to admire this beautiful spot. The wind was whipping up more and more with each passing moment. While the rain had stopped, hard waves beat the shore and shot up sprays of frigid lake water.
At one point, I thought I noticed someone on the lighthouse porch. They likely wondered about these middle aged fools who had dressed to face the elements in shorts and sun hats.
By then, we were soaked, tired and hungry. Those pancakes were calling our names. Bargains awaited. It was time to go.
But first, here came a woman with an umbrella chair, cooler and snack bag. She was dressed for the elements and excited to be there. “There’s a storm rolling in,” she exclaimed. It was her day off and she was excited to watch whatever Mother Nature had in store. This evidently was a lifelong passion of hers and she was thrilled not to miss it on this glorious stormy September day. She assured us she would be fine. She does this all the time.
“Good for her,” I said, climbing into the car and turning up the heat. Pancakes and warmer clothes were sounding pretty good to me by then. We headed back to town where we could ride out the storm indoors and with bags full of bargains.
It was unscripted, unplanned, unpredictable and a day I’m unlikely to forget. By the way, the pancakes were great too!
