Note: Since I’m on vacation, I’m giving you a rerun. This first appeared on June 3, 2015, back when I was new to blogging and had about 10 followers. It relates a childhood memory of mine that involved murder and explosives, as all good memories do. Also, the post includes a recipe because when I first started blogging, that was supposed to be my schtick. Then I forgot my schtick.
That’s the trouble with schticks. They only work if you remember them.
Oh well. Enjoy.
Growing up in the 70s was great. I’m not even talking about the movies and music from that era, although we had some darn fine ones.
What I’m talking about is the total lack of parental involvement. Even if a parent stayed home, they pretty much left us to our own devices. It was great.
Brother and I had it even better, as both Older Sisters and Older Brother were out of the house.
We’re talking complete lack of supervision, baby! Frankly, it’s a wonder we didn’t burn the whole place down.
Though we came close. Continue reading “My Glorious Summer of ’76”
One look at that little rodent corpse, the serene look on his face, and I knew. It was a clear case of mouse suicide.
My family lived in west Phoenix in a square cinderblock home, painted turquoise. And the thing to know about cinderblock homes, however unattractive they might appear, a splash of turquoise paint makes them nearly… less unattractive.
In any case, cinderblock keeps out rodents and reptiles, and for desert living that’s darn smart.
Although about the time I was 12-years old, my dad built a garage in our backyard.
Actually, it wasn’t so much a garage as a giant workshop/sanctuary. It took up nearly half our backyard and was made primarily of wood.
That’s when the mice moved in.
The reason we knew we had mice is that every so often, about once a week or so, we’d find one floating in Pepper’s water dish.
Pepper being our family dog.
Continue reading “The Suicidal Mice of 40th Drive”
A couple days ago someone asked me, “How do you sleep at night?” and I responded, “Fine, thanks.”
Only later did it occur to me the woman was probably being snarky. Especially as we were discussing how overly involved some parents were and I said my kids didn’t have that problem, as most of the time they were lucky if I remembered I had kids.
And that was when she asked about my sleep habits. Which upon reflection was a pretty quick change in topic, so yeah… she was probably being snarky. Continue reading “Dreaming of Captain Kangaroo and Chocolate Rum Pie”
Sometimes my inner Reporter gets a little zealous digging for facts.
Actually, “a little zealous” describes her off-days. Most of the time she’s a research fanatic.
But I can’t complain much because she often finds some real gems. Case in point, a charming publication called Old Settler’s Gazette. A compilation of century old news, brought together for the residents of Pulaski County, Missouri.
Interesting year, 1912. Remember it? Continue reading “All the News That’s Fit to Print in 1912”
So I’m nearly recovered from our vacation and I want to tell you about the uber-exciting thing I did.
This uber-exciting thing fulfilled a childhood fantasy of mine and made me feel gosh-darn giddy and… you know… uber-excited.
I’m going to tell you about it even though you won’t find it uber-exciting. In fact, it’s highly unlikely you’ll find it mildly exciting. You’ll probably read it, scratch your head and say, “huh?”
But I don’t care. I’m going to tell about it anyway because, 1) I remain uber-excited about it and, 2) I think you’re nice and will humor me.
Please don’t let me down.
Continue reading “I Pretend to be Daring and All That”
Gather ’round, boys and girls. We’re going to have some fun today, because we have a very special guest with us! She’s going to watch as we continue to learn how to cook just like Mother! Because that’s what we all want to do, right?
Oh, and look … here is our special guest! Say hello to Betty Crocker, circa 1973. Hello Betty!
Johnny, one mustn’t scream like that when someone enters the room. Say you’re sorry to Ms. Crocker.
You can sit to the left there, Ms. Crocker. You’ll be able to keep a careful eye on everyone, and I’m sure all the boys and girls will find that very comforting.
Now, children, please get out your cookbooks. I hope you all remembered … oh dear. You didn’t bring your cookbook with you?
Well, never mind. Here, you can use mine. Just please don’t spill anything on it, okay? The current spills will one day be carbon dated and we don’t want to throw off their findings.
Now Ms. Crocker very kindly updated her Boy’s and Girl’s Cookbook from 1957 so it would be exactly what our modern children of 1973 would want. Isn’t that grand?
So let’s get started with learning how to cook!
Continue reading “Learning to Cook: A Very Special Visit With Betty”