As you may have guessed I was never lucky enough to have a real brother. However I did have my cousin Eddie who was two years my senior and served the purpose of being a brother for me. Of course this also meant that he could be a tease, run faster than me and sometimes scare me silly. I remember when I was about six years old and he was eight he called me over to his house (next door to ours) and showed me a glass jar filled with a strange smoke. "What is it?" "Well it's poisen gas." "Where did you get it?" "I created it with my science kit." Then to my horror he screwed off the lid and held the smoke up to my face. I ran screaming back to Mother. "He's just teasing you. That's what boys like to do." Well, it did really scare me and I didn't care to see Eddie for a whole week.
Well, there's more to it than that. Eddie devised a way that we could talk to each other without him scaring me. He strung up a long cotton string between our bedroom windows with an empty tin can tied on each end by a hole made by hammering a nail into the closed end then putting the string through and tying a knot. By holding the cans really taut, and talking into the open end we could easily hear each other just like talking on a phone. This was our secret and much more fun. It was through this magic system that Eddie arranged for us to get into all sorts of trouble.
Eddie's 18 year old married sister Doris lived in the same house. She had an adorable baby boy and her husband was away in the Navy. One day Doris became very ill with Spinal Meningitis and their house was quarantined. This meant that I couldn't go over there until Doris got better. Over the 'telephone cans' Eddie devised a way that I could sneak over. "Go into your backyard and I'll help you come through a loose board in our shed." "Right now?" "Yep."
I did sneak over through that loose board and within minutes Eddie and I were standing at the foot of Doris's bed. She was so beautiful as she slept. "Will she wake up?" "The doctor said he hopes she will, but it may be a long time." We both decided we would go there every day and watch to see if she would wake up. She never did. Later Mother explained that Doris had been in a coma and the illness had taken her away. I never told Mother how we had gone to her room before she died until after I was married and had a baby of my own. Neither Eddie or me were taken to her funeral, but we did have a chance to take flowers to her grave. Within days Doris's husband was killed in an accident. My Aunt Mae raised that tow headed boy to adulthood.
As I was growing up through Jr High and Sr High, Eddie was always on hand to check out any boys who showed an interest in me. Also, he delighted my girlfriends by letting them hang onto his outstretched arm and dangle like they were holding onto a steel bar. They thought he was the strongest boy they had ever seen. He made me feel very proud. They also thought he was handsome and I supposed he looked OK.
Eddie and family moved away to the nearby town of Upland to an orange grove house that his paternal grandparents had lived in. It was rather old and worn, but all our local relatives enjoyed the yearly Christmas party at their house where they always had an exchange of gifts. It could cost no more than $2.00 and there was a huge box for the wrapped gifts labeled only 'boy' or 'girl' and everyone brought Christmas treats. I remember there was a large hole in the wood porch right in front of the entrance door so you had to step over carefully. "Termites," noted Eddie.
Eddie graduated from Upland High two years ahead of my graduation from Pomona High. Although his parents couldn't afford to give him a car, he already had a driver's license so he could run errands for his parents. He also had several part-time jobs around town so managed to purchase car parts from the local dealer in trashed vehicles. After a couple of months Eddie appeared in our dirt driveway tooting his horn like crazy. I opened our door not knowing who was making so much noise. It was Eddie driving the strangest car I had ever seen. He managed to get the door open and appeared most pleased with his great invention. Nothing on the exterior matched, doors and fenders were of all different colors, "I plan to paint the car next month," he assured me. "Hop in and I'll show you how good it runs." I did hop in and the interior was bare bones as well.
Eddie started the car and it began to shake. "Are we there yet?" Just had to tease him for a change. "Nope just letting the car get warmed up a bit." Finally, the car jolted ahead, the ride was a bit bumpy, but we managed to get over to the Drive Inn and have a rootbeer float. Back home again. "Eddie, you are the most amazing guy I know." As far as I remember that was only the first time I had acknowledged that fact to him.
My first husband always had to have the brand new car, off the dealer's showroom floor, every year. Eddie would always say, "Drive that new car around the block and the value drops in half." On my own, I always follow Eddie's good advise to this day. I buy last years car and let the dealership take the jolt.
Eddie and I remained very special cousins throughout our lives. He passed away a few years ago. His wife said, "you know Eddie really loved you." "Yep, I know...I always loved him too." I sure miss him and will always remember his very first car.
Journeys of a Lifetime
The more we travel, the more interesting people we meet, the more we realize how we are so alike rather than different, and as we add new adventures there are always wonderful surprises.
Monday, December 1, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Lemon Tree and Roses
"Lemon tree very pretty
and, the lemon flower so sweet,
but, the fruit of the lemon
is impossible to eat."
(...can't remember who wrote this song, sorry...)
Well, back in the 30's and 40's California boasted numerous lemon groves. Of course before long all those groves would be sold for housing tracks or shopping malls. However, most older homes with generous back yards had at least one lemon tree along with walnut, orange, grapefruit, and of course the forever fig tree. As they say: "Those were the good 'ol days!"
Needless to say, lemons were a major part of everyday preparations: added to the dish water to help remove oils and to the rinse water for the lovely perfume; if you were a blond (as I was) lemon/water was used as a rinse/conditioner after a shampoo; lemonade was a must during the summer; and lemon cake, cookies and of course lemon pie the ultimate. Actually, we only had one lemon tree so Clarence (my father) grafted branches of orange and grape-fruit creating a 3 in 1 citrus wonder. This grafting of plants knowledge was learned when Clarence became friends with a local rose nursery ,owner who grafted rose trees. Obviously, our old white clapboard house was enshrined with grafted tree roses, rose bushes and climbing roses.
I mentioned we had a walnut tree. Well, it was a very old, very tall, very wonderful tree that sat at the very back of our property right at the edge of the alley way. Back then, all older homes had alley ways where garbage was placed in a lid covered metal can to be picked up weekly by a huge pig farm in Pomona. Also, everyone set out boxes of items no longer wanted that were in good condition for another family perhaps. Larger items would be picked up for land fill. Paper would be burned in your very own concrete-slab trash-burner with a smoke stack and an iron door. The ashes were usually mixed into your garden.
I digress, back to that huge walnut tree where Clarence hung a rope swing for my sister Barbara and me, he had also planted a 'Bella Portugal' rose climber that managed to reach the top. When the leaves had dropped during the Fall, the large, rose-pink flowers would turn that tree into the biggest tree-rose you ever saw. Of course, when I returned to the West 4th Street house many years later I was terribly sad to see that the wonderful walnut-rose-tree had been cut down and the roots ground away. Needless to say, those walnuts had been fantastic to eat finding it difficult to wait for them to turn from green to crunchy brown. Reminds me of Shel Silverstein's "The Giving Tree." I did notice the lemon tree still stood.
and, the lemon flower so sweet,
but, the fruit of the lemon
is impossible to eat."
(...can't remember who wrote this song, sorry...)
Well, back in the 30's and 40's California boasted numerous lemon groves. Of course before long all those groves would be sold for housing tracks or shopping malls. However, most older homes with generous back yards had at least one lemon tree along with walnut, orange, grapefruit, and of course the forever fig tree. As they say: "Those were the good 'ol days!"
Needless to say, lemons were a major part of everyday preparations: added to the dish water to help remove oils and to the rinse water for the lovely perfume; if you were a blond (as I was) lemon/water was used as a rinse/conditioner after a shampoo; lemonade was a must during the summer; and lemon cake, cookies and of course lemon pie the ultimate. Actually, we only had one lemon tree so Clarence (my father) grafted branches of orange and grape-fruit creating a 3 in 1 citrus wonder. This grafting of plants knowledge was learned when Clarence became friends with a local rose nursery ,owner who grafted rose trees. Obviously, our old white clapboard house was enshrined with grafted tree roses, rose bushes and climbing roses.
I mentioned we had a walnut tree. Well, it was a very old, very tall, very wonderful tree that sat at the very back of our property right at the edge of the alley way. Back then, all older homes had alley ways where garbage was placed in a lid covered metal can to be picked up weekly by a huge pig farm in Pomona. Also, everyone set out boxes of items no longer wanted that were in good condition for another family perhaps. Larger items would be picked up for land fill. Paper would be burned in your very own concrete-slab trash-burner with a smoke stack and an iron door. The ashes were usually mixed into your garden.
I digress, back to that huge walnut tree where Clarence hung a rope swing for my sister Barbara and me, he had also planted a 'Bella Portugal' rose climber that managed to reach the top. When the leaves had dropped during the Fall, the large, rose-pink flowers would turn that tree into the biggest tree-rose you ever saw. Of course, when I returned to the West 4th Street house many years later I was terribly sad to see that the wonderful walnut-rose-tree had been cut down and the roots ground away. Needless to say, those walnuts had been fantastic to eat finding it difficult to wait for them to turn from green to crunchy brown. Reminds me of Shel Silverstein's "The Giving Tree." I did notice the lemon tree still stood.
Blind Date
As mentioned before, my first marriage of 21 years ended in a mutual divorce agreement. We had known one another since age 12, married at 18, bought our first new car at 19,two kids, and a new model home by age 23. Good start? We found that our interests were quite different as we grew up. After four years we both married people who were better suited to our lifestyle. JD loved to fish, hunt, boat and gamble. I preferred travel, sailing, writing and meeting new people. We did however remain friends throughout our lives until he passed away in 1996.
So here's how my 'blind date' began after a few years of being single. It seems my very good friends Bob and Lynne were skiing behind their boat down in Mexico. Same place, same time, a young widower, Carl and his 5 kids were also 'slalom' skiing behind their boat. Wouldn't you know, Carl's boat quit working and lo and behold they were invited to continue skiing behind my friend's boat. This is how it all started: "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a sister would you?" (nice line...) "Well yes, but she's older than me. I do however have a very dear friend, divorced four years ago that everyone thinks is my sister, about your age."
As you may have guessed, the subject continued throughout their conversation for the rest of the skiing trip. All the time Carl was skiing he wore a blue terrycloth hat. Apparently, when he finally removed his hat he was obviously bald on top, which didn't incidentally take away from the fact that he was all the things I apparently had mentioned to Lynne recently. "Well, Lynne, I guess he'd need to be tall, well educated, have a good sense of humor, and have kids. Oh, by the way, good hair would be nice." Now, after Lynne had promised to make a 'blind date' for us to meet each other, she suddenly felt ill at ease. So this is how the next phase went.
The following Monday, after Lynne arrived back home she called me. "Jean, guess what?" "You tell me what." "Well, I met this really neat guy, he's single about four years, he's tall, good looking, well educated in fact works for LaVerne University in Oxnard, and has kids five I think." "So, what else?" "Well, I promised him I'd make a 'blind date' for you to meet. Is that OK with you?" "Sure, why not. If you and Bob like him I'm sure I will too." "But.." "But what?" "Well, I didn't know until it was too late. You see he's bald." After laughing I assured her I'd be looking forward to meeting this nice guy. So, she called Carl and set the luncheon date for the following Wednesday.
In order to be away from my bridal boutique most of the day, I had to make special arrangements. Early morning received a call from Carl: "Something has come up. A VIP is here for the morning so can't get away." "That's OK I'll just come there." "Do you know how to get to Oxnard?" "No, but I'll manage. Just give me the address. See you for lunch." Get this over with and be done with the whole thing.
Found his office at Pt. Magoo Base where he worked. Waited in the parking lot sending a message in with another person who worked there. Then Carl arrived at the doorstep. I thought he must be color-blind: beige pants, pink shirt, no tie and a maroon blazer. But with a smile that was fantastic. "Hi you must be Jean. I see you managed the two hour drive." "Well, that freeway from Claremont is known as the 'biggest parking lot in LA. Anyway, I enjoyed listening to my favorite 'Moody Blues' so it was actually relaxing." "Hey, my favorite too. Give me your keys, have to park you in the employee spot." I did. I noticed he was having a hard time starting the Mazda. "Damn, I used the door key in the ignition, car won't start and the key's stuck!" We decided to go for our lunch and consider this problem later.
We had grilled chicken salad. He salted his then passed the salt over. "No thanks." "Is there any reason you don't eat salt?" I could see that he was wondering if I had some terrible malady. "Nope. Just grew up with a mother that used lots of pepper and herbs." I could see he breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of the meal was a 'get to know each other over the next two fun hours."
"I'll run you over to my house and you can meet the kids. We live on the beach here in Oxnard. Actually later found that Sunny and Cher Bono lived a few houses down, and the writer of 'Bertha Butt Boogie" on one side and an un-known son of Howard Hughes on the other. Once there I met his five kids all in bathing suits along with another bunch of their friends. I wasn't sure which one's were his, but they were all adorable from age 9 through 16. Carl began his several phone calls: "Hi, someone used the wrong key in my friends car, it's stuck and car won't start. Can someone come out to help us?"This lament was repeated over the next several calls before he changed his approach. "Hi,I stupidly used the door key in the car ignition and the damn thing won't start. I need someone right now."
By the time we got back to his office in Pt. Magoo the key man was already starting the car. "Drive directly to your Mazda dealer. Don't stop." This whole episode was crazy and fun. I promised to call Carl as soon as I had the car fixed. The dealership wanted to charge me. "Now, everyone knows Mazda keys are made out of old beer cans." He grinned, "No charge lady." I called Carl who suggested: "How 'bout I drive your direction and take you to dinner Saturday night?" A wonderful evening. We were married three months later on the beach at Lagoona. Hawaii for our honeymoon. The beginning of 34 years of a fantastic marriage. Definately 'Soulmates!'
So here's how my 'blind date' began after a few years of being single. It seems my very good friends Bob and Lynne were skiing behind their boat down in Mexico. Same place, same time, a young widower, Carl and his 5 kids were also 'slalom' skiing behind their boat. Wouldn't you know, Carl's boat quit working and lo and behold they were invited to continue skiing behind my friend's boat. This is how it all started: "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a sister would you?" (nice line...) "Well yes, but she's older than me. I do however have a very dear friend, divorced four years ago that everyone thinks is my sister, about your age."
As you may have guessed, the subject continued throughout their conversation for the rest of the skiing trip. All the time Carl was skiing he wore a blue terrycloth hat. Apparently, when he finally removed his hat he was obviously bald on top, which didn't incidentally take away from the fact that he was all the things I apparently had mentioned to Lynne recently. "Well, Lynne, I guess he'd need to be tall, well educated, have a good sense of humor, and have kids. Oh, by the way, good hair would be nice." Now, after Lynne had promised to make a 'blind date' for us to meet each other, she suddenly felt ill at ease. So this is how the next phase went.
The following Monday, after Lynne arrived back home she called me. "Jean, guess what?" "You tell me what." "Well, I met this really neat guy, he's single about four years, he's tall, good looking, well educated in fact works for LaVerne University in Oxnard, and has kids five I think." "So, what else?" "Well, I promised him I'd make a 'blind date' for you to meet. Is that OK with you?" "Sure, why not. If you and Bob like him I'm sure I will too." "But.." "But what?" "Well, I didn't know until it was too late. You see he's bald." After laughing I assured her I'd be looking forward to meeting this nice guy. So, she called Carl and set the luncheon date for the following Wednesday.
In order to be away from my bridal boutique most of the day, I had to make special arrangements. Early morning received a call from Carl: "Something has come up. A VIP is here for the morning so can't get away." "That's OK I'll just come there." "Do you know how to get to Oxnard?" "No, but I'll manage. Just give me the address. See you for lunch." Get this over with and be done with the whole thing.
Found his office at Pt. Magoo Base where he worked. Waited in the parking lot sending a message in with another person who worked there. Then Carl arrived at the doorstep. I thought he must be color-blind: beige pants, pink shirt, no tie and a maroon blazer. But with a smile that was fantastic. "Hi you must be Jean. I see you managed the two hour drive." "Well, that freeway from Claremont is known as the 'biggest parking lot in LA. Anyway, I enjoyed listening to my favorite 'Moody Blues' so it was actually relaxing." "Hey, my favorite too. Give me your keys, have to park you in the employee spot." I did. I noticed he was having a hard time starting the Mazda. "Damn, I used the door key in the ignition, car won't start and the key's stuck!" We decided to go for our lunch and consider this problem later.
We had grilled chicken salad. He salted his then passed the salt over. "No thanks." "Is there any reason you don't eat salt?" I could see that he was wondering if I had some terrible malady. "Nope. Just grew up with a mother that used lots of pepper and herbs." I could see he breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of the meal was a 'get to know each other over the next two fun hours."
"I'll run you over to my house and you can meet the kids. We live on the beach here in Oxnard. Actually later found that Sunny and Cher Bono lived a few houses down, and the writer of 'Bertha Butt Boogie" on one side and an un-known son of Howard Hughes on the other. Once there I met his five kids all in bathing suits along with another bunch of their friends. I wasn't sure which one's were his, but they were all adorable from age 9 through 16. Carl began his several phone calls: "Hi, someone used the wrong key in my friends car, it's stuck and car won't start. Can someone come out to help us?"This lament was repeated over the next several calls before he changed his approach. "Hi,I stupidly used the door key in the car ignition and the damn thing won't start. I need someone right now."
By the time we got back to his office in Pt. Magoo the key man was already starting the car. "Drive directly to your Mazda dealer. Don't stop." This whole episode was crazy and fun. I promised to call Carl as soon as I had the car fixed. The dealership wanted to charge me. "Now, everyone knows Mazda keys are made out of old beer cans." He grinned, "No charge lady." I called Carl who suggested: "How 'bout I drive your direction and take you to dinner Saturday night?" A wonderful evening. We were married three months later on the beach at Lagoona. Hawaii for our honeymoon. The beginning of 34 years of a fantastic marriage. Definately 'Soulmates!'
Sunrises and Sunsets
I would venture to say that I have witnessed more sunrises and sunsets than anyone I have ever met. The main reason for this claim is the fact that I was brought up by a mother in a wheelchair who's world was most notabley the one she saw from her windows. Yes, there were many times she escaped from her small space into my father's gardens and even beyond, on occasion, to Redwoods of the north-west mountains and the raging surf along the south-west coastline,. Always more than willing to share her excitement of natures best with her first daughter and constant companion, lucky me.
Clarence, my father whom I called by name from my earliest memory, loved the outdoors surely a gift given to my Mother, who insisted on that name alone until I became a mother than she requested I call her Viola which seemed most natural to me. Although my father worked his 40 hour week and brought home his meager paycheck as a 'stone-cutter-artist' even throughout the Great Depression, he always found time on weekends to work in his garden and take Mother outside her otherwise limited world. She never complained. Actually, when I became an adult she did say: "Sometimes I wish I could walk thru that door and slam it hard just once." The only time I even gave it a thought that her world was so different than mine.
I can say: "I love all critters large and small" and actually mean it. Mother made sure I learned how spiders made their webs and bundled their 'catch' for a later meal. She taught me to catch a small critter that entered the house without being invited in a small jar and let it go outside "where it belongs." Together, my parents taught me the names of various clouds, made sure I never missed the 'falling stars' or watching the tiny green tumble from the ground where it had been a mere seed such a short time before. I knew the names of trees and flowers before beginning school right along with my alphabet and reading putting me well ahead of other children. Probably my main reason for being generally bored with the slow method of teaching once I entered the 'halls of learning' things I already seemed to know.
As I have traveled throughout this amazing planet on which we live, I make sure I am awake early enough to witness every possible sunrise and making sure I'm in the best position to observe every possible sunset.
So often, I find that I'm the only one on a foreign shore taking the time to watch a sunset. I want to stop the nearby traffic and remind them they are missing so very much by ignoring such a beautiful gift both morning and night, and it's free for anyone willing to take the time to enjoy.
Clarence, my father whom I called by name from my earliest memory, loved the outdoors surely a gift given to my Mother, who insisted on that name alone until I became a mother than she requested I call her Viola which seemed most natural to me. Although my father worked his 40 hour week and brought home his meager paycheck as a 'stone-cutter-artist' even throughout the Great Depression, he always found time on weekends to work in his garden and take Mother outside her otherwise limited world. She never complained. Actually, when I became an adult she did say: "Sometimes I wish I could walk thru that door and slam it hard just once." The only time I even gave it a thought that her world was so different than mine.
I can say: "I love all critters large and small" and actually mean it. Mother made sure I learned how spiders made their webs and bundled their 'catch' for a later meal. She taught me to catch a small critter that entered the house without being invited in a small jar and let it go outside "where it belongs." Together, my parents taught me the names of various clouds, made sure I never missed the 'falling stars' or watching the tiny green tumble from the ground where it had been a mere seed such a short time before. I knew the names of trees and flowers before beginning school right along with my alphabet and reading putting me well ahead of other children. Probably my main reason for being generally bored with the slow method of teaching once I entered the 'halls of learning' things I already seemed to know.
As I have traveled throughout this amazing planet on which we live, I make sure I am awake early enough to witness every possible sunrise and making sure I'm in the best position to observe every possible sunset.
So often, I find that I'm the only one on a foreign shore taking the time to watch a sunset. I want to stop the nearby traffic and remind them they are missing so very much by ignoring such a beautiful gift both morning and night, and it's free for anyone willing to take the time to enjoy.
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