July 22nd, 1978: Children's Lit Classics (Pre Pokemon!)

I was feeding mom tonight and Howard called me "Nurse Jane Fuzzywuzzy" so we started to recall all our favorite childhood books.  Uncle Wiggily was always making soup in an old tin can, and I always thought it sounded wonderful.  And we were always captivated by the improbable sequence of events that ended each story ("if all this doesn't happen, I'll tell you another story tomorrow").

We loved Burgess' Old Mother West Wind stories and the Oz books (our library is so highfalutin', it doesn't have Oz books!).  I used to spend hours with Nancy Drew-tho her stupidity in exploring "empty" houses herself led me to throw a book across my room.

We were very fond of the Bobbsey Twins, and Betty and I liked Honeybunch.  Of course I spend hours dreaming over The Little Colonel.  I had masses of Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy books.  We had The Five Little Peppers and its sequels.  I even had Pollyanna and Elsie Dinsmore (though my mother always threatened to slap me if I acted like either one).   And of course we had "classics" (usually two or three copies) like Little Women and The Swiss Family Robinson and Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates.

I'd like Petey to read my favorites, but I can't find Uncle Wiggily or the Raggedys anywhere*.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Eventually we were able to locate them as well as many of the Oz stories which I remember fondly to this day!

July 21st, 1978: This Mortal Coil

Pete is very concerned over Grandma's illness.  Yesterday he didn't want to go to the hospital with me and I explained to him that I wanted to go because my mother is very sick.  I asked him, if I was very sick, wouldn't you want to be with me?"  

Last night he was sitting on his bed looking very solemn.  I asked him why and he said, " I'm thinking about Grandma for you".  He asked me if she was dying and I said, "yes, I think so".  Then  he said, "can I go to the funeral?".

He's very concerned with death and what happens to your body after you die.  Yesterday he wanted to know where the soul is.  

Today we went to the hospital with Dad.  Sister Angelica was there when I went to see mom, and she arranged for Peter to come down and see her.  Mom seemed to know him and be glad to see him.  He turned very shy and sat on my lap.  We talked about when he was in hospital.  He remembered his blue gown with yellow chickies on it-he said he liked it the best.  He remembered the toy the nurses made him from the heart monitor discs (the use to roll it down his tummy).  Then he kissed Grandma's hand and told her goodbye, and so did I.

July 20th, 1978: "To Draw Your Cork" and other slang

I've been reading a lot of Georgette Heyer that I got from the State Library.  So far I've read Powder and Patch, The Black Moth, and Friday's Child.  They're not very improving, but I have learned a lot of 19th century slang.  I know what a "wisty castor" is and what "to draw your cork" means.  I even find myself using it.  

When Pete made an excuse for something he'd done yesterday I said "You're doing it much too brown", and I know what a "leveller" and "a bunch of five's" are-though that expression hasn't changed much 

To be mugged or to be robbed used to be "to be forked", but what puzzles me is how Georgette Heyer got to know all that slang.  In Friday's Child, she even uses thieves' cant.  It sounds authentic enough.  Her dialogue is always believable (which is more than I can say for Emile Loring-the only book I ever found so bad that I threw it away even though I had nothing else to read!  She must write with the O.E.D. at her side.

July 19th, 1978: Ghost Stories

I've been reading ghost stories; Asquith's Second and Third Ghost Books, and the Fourth Ghost Book, with a different editor, whose selections I didn't like as well.  My roommate and I saw a ghost in Hawaii-a tall faceless shape, like a blue flame.  I felt it looking at me, she heard it "cough", and we both saw it in our hallway.  Our hall was always cold after that-in Hawaii!  We were so scared we moved our beds into one room, and put every religious object we could find (crosses, our Bibles, our prayer books) on the threshold of the room-and left the light on all night.  We thought of having it exorcised, but the rites seemed so harsh to the poor ghost, we decided against it.

It never did us any harm-in fact, it didn't seem to have anything to do with us-and we only saw it once, tho the cold lingered.  One of our friends had a rocking chair that rocked all by itself where ever she put it (and no, it wasn't a defect in the rockers).  

Then I heard my grandmother's voice after she died.  She'd never seen Petey, and I heard her voice from the corner by his crib.  She just said "Oh, isn't he beautiful?" and I was comforted that she had seen him after all.

July 18th, 1978: All about Fruit

I could lion fruit, if only Petey would too.  Right now we have apples (the little green ones-the only kind Petey likes), watermelon, and black raspberries in the refrigerator (Betty keeps her watermelon in a ditch on the farm).  I have kiwi fruit from New Zealand.  It has a brown husk and is a clear green inside, with very tiny black seeds that are edible too.  As its advertisement says, "no pith, now waste". At 69 cents apiece, for a fruit the size of an avocado or less, there's better not be waste!  We have some golden cantaloupe, just perfectly ripe-and the on the table I have giant apricots from Dad's tree, and bananas.  Oh, and I have a lemon in the refrigerator, for slices with my tea.  Once a variety like this would have been the mark of a king's table, before cargo liners and refrigerated railway cars/airplanes.  Even in Hawaii, apples were a luxury, though you could have all the papaya and pineapple you wanted for 9 cents/pound.  But we have all the local produce-bananas, papayas (tho not very good ones) and pineapple too...and now even kiwi fruit.

July 17th, 1978: On Grandma Alice's failing health.

Mom is in the hospital again, the second time in two weeks.  Again she had a high temperature and her blood pressure shot up.  I saw her this morning.  She was getting oxygen and an IV.  Her hands hooked over the covers, so thin and frail they were like skeleton hands, or some little bird's claws.  She said "hi" to me in a whisper, but, though her eyes were open, she had a puzzled look as if she didn't know why I was there.  

After a while I went away.  I went back tonight at 10:00pm, after our meeting about the church.  Carol Wallace took me and stayed with Petey.  I only intended to ask at the desk how she was, but they said, "Just go on back", so I did.  Her eyes were open and she smiled at me, but then she didn't seem to see me any more.  I kissed her and told her how much I love her (all in whispers so as not to wake the woman in the next bed), then sat beside her till she went to sleep.  I tiptoed out, tho I don't think any noise I made would have wakened her-and met Carol and Petey at the hospital entrance sitting on a bench in the cool, under a full moon.

July 16th, 1978 (Sunday): Grandpa Hans preaches the sermon

Dad preached the sermon today-on predestination.  He talked about the parable of the wheat and the thorns, and it was frightening because-as he pointed out-we can't know which we are.  He mentioned the attitudes of despair, or condescension this can produce, "knowing" that we are saved ("the elect are numbered") and therefore looking down on everyone else, or "knowing" we are doomed so that nothing we do matters.

I believe in predestination a little (did Judas have to betray Christ, or had he a choice?).  At least I believe there is an appropriate time for us to die and we have no right to hasten it by suicide, but I don't think I believe we must be good or bad.  Surely "the forgiveness of sins" means we can choose to be be better-to abandon old ways and lead a good life (but I don't know about venial and cardinal sins-is a distinction God makes?-and how do we know?).  What is the unforgivable sin, the sin against the Holy Ghost?  I don't know what I'll be at harvest time.

July 15th, 1978: Church Yardsale

Our church yard sale was today.  It was hot (must have been 100 degrees) and overcast.  There were a few drops of rain, causing some trepidation because the sale was outside, but there wasn't any storm.  Fifteen people were waiting at 8:00am and started buying before they even had time to put all the dishes out.  I went at noon, in a sleeveless top, because I hadn't realized we'd be outside.  Fortunately, Dad was there mowing the lawn, so I sent him home for a long sleeved shirt and some sunscreen.  

We were busy.  I smoked two cigarettes in two hours.  Mary stayed with me to help.  That was fortunate because she'd priced the clothes and some of the tags had been switched-and some were just missing.  Some people switched the jewelry from one dish (50 cents) to the other (25 cents) too, and some of the earrings had been lost.

Everything has half price after noon, but some of the customers tried to bargain even lower than half, and one man asked us to hold a crib and then called to say he didn't want it after all (we could have sold it three times).  

Mary said we took in $183.00 and our share of the Bible School cost is $50.00, so the sale was a success!

July 14th, 1978: Wonder Woman

Pete can talk of nothing but his "Wonder Woman" doll.  I finally ordered it from Sears yesterday.  Pete has been waiting for two months.  He''s been promised one for six months, since the foot broke off the one we got at a garage sale.  I hope he isn't disappointed.  The blurb says "poseable plastic body", but the picture looks as if she hasn't any joints, so I'm afraid she won't sit down.

He's hard at work making a car for her out of an empty Kleenex box (he emptied it on purpose) and kool-aid can lids.  I don't think she'll fit in any of the cars he has-she's bigger than his Batman and Robin dolls (EDITOR'S NOTE: Mego ACTION FIGURES-Ahem!) She's also much bigger than the doll who is supposed to be her "mother" (in that the doll has a crown so she's Queen Hippolyta).

Pete said, "How will she kiss Diana? Can Wonder Woman pick her up?", but I don't know if her hands will hold anything (EDITOR'S NOTE: These being the days just prior to action figures have "action grips" ala later variations of GI Joe).  She doesn't come with a magic lasso, although she has a tiara and bracelets so we plan to make one out of gold elastic cord...(but it won't stay tied in a knot).  Sears said it would take 4 to 5 days to get here (EDITOR'S NOTE: Pre-Amazon Prime, y'all)-Monday or Tuesday, but Pete says, "I just can't wait, Mommy..it's too hard!  I just can't wait"

July 12th, 1978: Happy without a Daddy

While picking books for Pete at the library the other day, I noticed the dearth of books suitable for boys with no father.  There are plenty about loving relationships with fathers, doing things together, and family units (with the proper "boy, girl, baby, mother, father, cat, dog, and stationwagon"); there are lots of "mother/daughter" books; but I didn't find any that are "mother/son"-with no father in the offing.  Judith Viorst's come closest: Mother does things with the boys, but there are brothers, and Petey's all alone.  

Surely there must be other "Single mothers" who get tired of reading about perfect families.  Pete is so much influenced by what he reads.  Last night we read Paul, the Hero of the Fire, where Paul runs away and gets a job at the Fair to help Mom and Dad's finances, and Petey said, "I'd better get a job and help you, Mommy".  I asked him what he'd do, and he said, "I'll feed the chickens at the farm.  That would be a job, wouldn't it?".  But when I told him he'd have to do it every night, he said, "Guess what? I won't get a job after all.".

I wish I had a book to read him that had a mother and a son being happy together without a daddy.

July 11th, 1978: Cleaning Day

I had an irresistible urge to clean things today, so I dusted all the books in two of the four bookcases in my bedroom, carefully taking out each one, dusting it completely, and stacking it with the others from the same shelf.  Then I dusted the empty shelves.  My book cases have books on both sides so this was no mean feat.  The "cases" are metal stands with open work shelves, on which the books balance precariously.  Every time I bump one in the night, the books go over like dominoes.  I replaced all the books (absolutely necessary since they were on my bed), but still felt the urge to clean. 

I took a bath with with skin-so-soft oil (very nice).  Pete took one, and I scrubbed the bathroom (Pete heard me tapping the Comet can and thought there was someone at the door-at 11:00pm at night (if there had been, I wouldn't have answered).  

Then I washed all the dishes, and-still unsatisfied-scrubbed the kitchen sink and the bottom of my dishpan, and the kitchen table....and I dusted the small table that holds my jewelry findings, and the cases of findings, (but my energy ran out before I got to the stove and our refrigerator).  Still, I sat down in a glow (both sorts) of accomplishment.

I read Margaret Halsey's Demi-Paradise, and it left me feeling inferior.  I have no "Cause Celebre" to write about-McCarthyism and Vietnam having died too soon (though I dodn't regret their passing). and tho I read the Elizabethans, I have no one to quote them to.  Then I began Elizabeth Foster's The Islanders, and immediately felt better.  I remembered the Abnakis from Robert Lowell's Mills of the Kavanaughs, and, better still, she mentioned The White House Cookbook.  I have a copy of it sitting on my shelf.  I once tried to manufacture an eggnog (with a single egg) from its recipe which begins "take a dozen eggs...".  Mine was NOT a success, but I couldn't blame the book.  If only I'd had laying hens and a cow to milk for the cream, I'm sure it would have been very good.  She, like Ann Bridge, is no mean botanist.  Since I have an absolutely brown thumb, I love reading about successful gardens.  Gladys Taber charms me too.  The impossible doesn't leave me unhappy, only the unlikely.