Sentimental Sunday, The Carousel of My Youth

Copyright 2010, CABS for Reflections From the Fence

My grandmother Florence Ruth (nee Dews) Bowen lived and worked around Nags Head, Dare County, North Carolina when I was a youngster.  My parents would take a few weeks each year and travel from Michigan to see both sides of my extended family.  It seems we always stopped in Rockingham County Virginia to see my mother's family and then we would drive down to the "beach" to see my father's family. 

Nags Head, as I remember it from a child's point of view, was the unspoiled beach, traffic, bingo and THE carousel.  I adored that carousel, the magnificently painted horses, so tall off the ground I just know my parents must have lifted me up. 

Slowly the carousel would start, the music, the horses starting to pump up and down.  I was even taken with the mechanical aspects of a carousel, all those poles and the gears in the drive assembly, it was all magical.  We always went to the carousel at night, so there were lights glittering as well, all the more enchantment for a little one.

Moving slow at first, the carousel would start to speed up, round and round we would go, the horses being pulled up and down by the poles.  I would hold on for dear life, I mean, it was going faster and faster and the ponies went high! 

And, then, much too soon, you could see the attendant walk over and pull the mechanical arm, and the carousel would slow down, the ponies would go up and down slower and slower, would you stop at the top, or would your pony stop down low?

I never outgrew that awe and fascination and love of the carousel.  All my life, each and every carousel I see sends those spikes of excitement throughout me, reminding me of Nags Head, the beach, the lights, the sounds, the carousel.

*These beautifully painted carousel horses are from the Davis Mercantile in Shipshewana, Indiana where they have a fully restored 1906 Carousel.

**I know that some parts of my memories are probably a bit wrong, as time passes, so do the particulars, and these memories are from my extreme youth.  However, they are warm and fuzzy memories and even if they are a tad wrong, I'll keep them thank you very much!  I never want to loose that fascination with the carousel.

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Sentimental Sunday, The Gate

Copyright 2010, CABS for Reflections From the Fence

Sure does not look like much, does it??  But, this rusty gate is in some respects, the gate to my heart.  This gate stands in front of the home of my great grandparents, David Halterman and his wife, Ida Matilda Whitmer Halterman.  They were married in 1899 in Hardy County, West Virginia. 

I am not sure when they moved to this home. It sits on land that has belonged to Haltermans for some generations.  I need to verify this statement, but, I believe that David's great grandfather, George W. Halterman, Sr. may have been the original purchaser of the land.  George is found on the 1850 census of the area.

In any event, David and Ida lived there from at least 1900 until they both died, she in 1963, he in 1965.  I knew both of them, I have strong memories of them and their home, and that gate. 

*Home and surrounding land now owned by my first cousin.  Still in the family.

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Ode to - - - On a Sentimental Sunday

Copyright 2010, CABS for Reflections From the Fence

Man's mother was religious and loved volunteering for the Red Cross.  The following was found among a collection of awards and information covering her 20 years of Red Cross service.  There is no name to give credit to, no publication data, it is obviously a photocopy, and she kept it for years, so, it meant something to her.

Ode to a volunteer

Many will be shocked to find
When the day of judgement nears
That there's a special place in Heaven
Set aside for volunteers.

Furnished with big recliners,

Satin couches and footstools,

Where there's no committee chairman

No group leaders or carpools.

No eager team that needs a coach

No bazaar and no bake sale,

There will be nothing to staple

Not one thing to fold or mail.

Telephone lists will be outlawed,
But a finger snap will bring
Cool drinks and gourmet dinners,
And rare treats fit for a king.
You ask, who'll serve these privileged few
And work for all they're worth?
Why all those who reaped the benefits,
and not once volunteered on earth.

Where would we be without volunteers?  In a case of hurt, that is where.

* Millie was the juice and cookie girl, who watched to see if you were gonna pass out after giving blood.  If you did, she caught you.

**Graphic courtesy of webweaver.nu

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The Aftermath, a Dream, or Maybe a Nightmare

Man and I have spent some time at his mother's home sorting and such.  Everyone can relate.

Millie is either a genie's dream saver or nightmare hoarder.  She saved everything, pay stubs, photos, anniversary and birthday cards, a list of the places she worked and what her job was.  I have seen somewhere the hospital bill when Man was born.   And, no kidding, today I found her doctor bills when she was preggies with him.  Lucky for us, many, not all, but, the majority of the photos are identified.  She saved all these treasures in boxes, of varying size.  There is not a lot of logic in her sorting and filing methods to me, but, hey, organization is a personal thing, and seeing that my office and filing is not up to snuff, I toss no stones, eh??

So, we brought it home yesterday, all the boxes. There are boxes in boxes, envelopes in the boxes in the boxes. This is part of it, piled in our parlor.  Several of the green tubs are filled with her crochet work, beautiful afghans.  There are some baby blankets and receiving sets that are so beautiful.  Once I photograph them, they will be stored, somewhere, not sure where - - - yet.

So, today, I told Man, we have to get the document, cards, photos, that sort of thing OUT of all these boxes.  For now, I am emptying boxes and using safe photo pages and those slippery pages that hold a standard sized sheet of paper.  Putting them in notebooks.  Then we can review easier and without doing any damage.  We can re-evaluate the process as the project moves forward.  Carol is winging it here, trying to figure out what works for us, in our situation.

Here is  peak inside just one of the boxes, this is the size of a change box, about 11 inches wide and 7.5 inches from front to back.

In this box I have found letters from her sister, Frieda, who was in the TB sanitarium, church bulletins announcing the deaths of a sister, her parents, baptism of a niece and nephew.  Also, the previously discussed doctor bills, wedding invitations to her wedding and that of her brother, and, MORE!!  Here is a photo of just a few items pulled from this box.

From one envelope (with a 3 cent stamp), I pulled her brother's marriage invitation, which by the way, still had the flimsy piece of tissue like paper one uses in such invitations, two newspaper articles about the wedding and one of the wedding reception napkins.

There are going to be a LOT of Sentimental Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays, ....... well, you get the idea ...... around here for some time to come.

Copyright 2010, CABS for Reflections From the Fence

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Lillies to be Sentimental Over

This Sentimental Sunday entry is dedicated to my grandmother, Minnie Agnes Halterman Trumbo.

These are lillies (exact botanical name unknown) that Minnie gave me many many years ago - - over 20 years ago.  They are grown in a tightly packed pot and are very fragile as far as temperatures go, so no, these are not like a tulip that must experience some cold weather to bloom.  These are the exact opposite, as freezing temps, cold weather, will finish these beauties off. 

These lillies are so dear to me that I take them with me each winter that we are able to escape in Tana.  I like to have them outside of Tana, but if cold weather threatens, I drag them into Tana until the weather moderates.  This last winter they spent a LOT of time inside Tana. 

They bloom in the early spring, as you can see, these photos were taken during the last 18 days or so.  They get a lot of leaf structure over the summer, I keep watering.  Then in the fall you can cease the watering and the leaf structure dies back.  Come late winter, watering is resumed.  The last few years I have actually continued watering (lightly) most of the winter and the leaf structure did not totally die back.

This last fall though, when we arrived in Gulf Shores, I discovered, to my horror (yep, HORROR, as I am sentimental about these lillies, the thought of loosing them is horrifying to me), I discovered that my lillies had some fuzzy white nasty buggy thing.  This white buggy thing had infected many of my house plants, and I have sadly lost quite a few.  So, I sprayed the lillies with a bug killer and prayed.  The leaf structure died back all winter long, I was continuously removing dead leaves and fearing the worse. 

By the time we were ready to leave Gulf Shores the lilly was pathetic, basically a pot full of small bulbs and dirt.  I watered heavily with soap and water (to kill any other little nasties picked up while outside), placed the lillies in the bath tub of Tana for the ride home.  There is a sky light in the tub, and I have learned that my violets do not do well in there - - their delicate leaves burn - - even though we have some bubble wrap up there to diffuse the sun.  But, when we arrived home, I was delighted to see that Minnie's lillies loved that diffused light from the sky light.  When I started carrying my plants back into the stick built, I pulled out the lilly and behold, I have buds, just 4 of em, but they are buds!  Can we spell relief??  YAA!!

Since then the lilly has been blooming continuously.  Right now there are at least 8 full blooms and even though I did not count them, I believe there have been at least 3 times that already.

Minnie's lillies, yes, I am very sentimental over them. 

Copyright 2010, CABS for Reflections From the Fence