Clarification concerning yesterday's post: Just because I am desperate and stoopid enough to put Neosporin in my eyes, doesn't mean I reccomend it for anyone else do so. Read and heed the directions on all medications and pay no attention to the rambling words of old men and witchy women.
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How poor were we when I was a small boy? Money poor for sure. Fortunately, my grandmother owned a few acres of the the old family farm which she was able to sell piecemeal when we became very needy. I did not have a lot of support from my dad (financial or otherwise) in those days, and my mom worked in the textile mills in Johnson City to support herself and me while we lived with my grandmother and shared the small house with with two of of my mom's brothers whom only did odd farm work for cash to buy their clothes and tobacco. Uncle Roy liked to drink, so most of his earnings went to various bootleggers. Another uncle moved out not long after returning home from WW2, and my aunt Iva married and moved on when I was small. As an only child, I was very spoiled by all these well meaning family members.
After walking the mile to the bus line and then riding into Johnson City, my mom and I usually spent several hours window shopping and browsing in the various five-&-dime stores. If she had some extra change, we would enjoy a ten cent hot dog and a nickel coke at the Woolworth's lunch counter. If the cash wasn't there, we would remain hungry until we got back home. It wasn't a big deal then, but if I thought one of my kids or grandchildren were missing a meal, it would fret me beyond reason. At that time, my mom could not afford to buy feminine napkins very often; instead she used cut-up sheets for such and washed and reused them. One time in the Kress store, we had been browsing for a few minutes, and she finally picked up a box and headed for the checkout. Being a curious little boy, I was tugging at her dress hem. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks, bent over and warned me not to ask what it was she was buying. Kotex was a word that was sometimes whispered in the presence of children, and hardly ever discussed among adults. My mom was not one to easily endure embarrassment, and if I had asked her in public what she was buying, I can only imagine the consequences for both she and I.
Isn't it weird the things we think of around birthday time?
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Christianity: We receive gifts to celebrate the birth of Jesus and receive candy to honor his death. Cool!
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How poor were we when I was a small boy? Money poor for sure. Fortunately, my grandmother owned a few acres of the the old family farm which she was able to sell piecemeal when we became very needy. I did not have a lot of support from my dad (financial or otherwise) in those days, and my mom worked in the textile mills in Johnson City to support herself and me while we lived with my grandmother and shared the small house with with two of of my mom's brothers whom only did odd farm work for cash to buy their clothes and tobacco. Uncle Roy liked to drink, so most of his earnings went to various bootleggers. Another uncle moved out not long after returning home from WW2, and my aunt Iva married and moved on when I was small. As an only child, I was very spoiled by all these well meaning family members.
After walking the mile to the bus line and then riding into Johnson City, my mom and I usually spent several hours window shopping and browsing in the various five-&-dime stores. If she had some extra change, we would enjoy a ten cent hot dog and a nickel coke at the Woolworth's lunch counter. If the cash wasn't there, we would remain hungry until we got back home. It wasn't a big deal then, but if I thought one of my kids or grandchildren were missing a meal, it would fret me beyond reason. At that time, my mom could not afford to buy feminine napkins very often; instead she used cut-up sheets for such and washed and reused them. One time in the Kress store, we had been browsing for a few minutes, and she finally picked up a box and headed for the checkout. Being a curious little boy, I was tugging at her dress hem. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks, bent over and warned me not to ask what it was she was buying. Kotex was a word that was sometimes whispered in the presence of children, and hardly ever discussed among adults. My mom was not one to easily endure embarrassment, and if I had asked her in public what she was buying, I can only imagine the consequences for both she and I.
Isn't it weird the things we think of around birthday time?
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Christianity: We receive gifts to celebrate the birth of Jesus and receive candy to honor his death. Cool!
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2 comments:
My father left my mother when she was v. young woman. At that moment conditions of our life became much worse. There were bread at home, butter and cheese, but - I remember – I missed a taste of sausage.
I remember I was happy when we eventually moved to the house of my grandmother. Our life became 'normal'. I'm v. grateful for all to my grandmother and my grandfather. They were wonderful people.
I like reading your memories, Ken.
Hi Jola.
I think grandparents are very important. They are the greatest teachers in the world. I don't know what my mom and I would have done without them being there for us.
Please write about your life and childhood memories. Not only would I like to read what you wish to share, but someday it will be important to Asia and maybe some future grandchildren. :-)
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