My Mom was a neat-nick. There was no clutter in our house. Her early American furniture was polished, hardwood floors dusted on hands and knees daily. Window washing was a weekly task, unless horrendous weather prevailed. She used some concoction with vinegar and newspapers to dry them. Because newspapers left no streaks.

 

Mom catching some rays in California, 1961…

That’s not to say our house was empty. Quite the contrary. She had a lot of stuff. She was a clothes horse. Every closet was full. But neat. Always neat. And she had several collections. Milk glass, cut crystal, blue Delft, Black Hills gold, turquoise and silver jewelry. Yet the house had a more of a minimalist look. Because she knew how to display, store and hide things. Which is why I shouldn’t have been surprised by anything I found after she passed away. It was up to me to go through every inch of the house, getting it ready to put on the market. We packed up what dad wanted to keep, doled some out to family members, donated a lot. I kept what I wanted and hauled it to Michigan.

 

Disneyland memorabilia, 1961…

 

But surprised I was. Not so much when I was doing all the decision making on what and what not to keep. I was on auto-pilot and didn’t have or take the time to really reminisce. Years later, even after Dad had passed away. The stacks of containers continued to grow and now they were all mine. Still not much was done. It wasn’t until our first move in over 20 years when the sheer magnitude of how much of their stuff I had. With wonder, I have been amazed at what my Mom saved.

 

Hand sized crate of orange bubblegum from Knott’s Berry Farm, 1961…

 

There are really only 2 meaningful things I was unable to locate when I went through their house. One was Larry’s baseball cards. Since Larry was born in 1946 and was died in 1958, his collection of baseball cards had to be freaking awesome. I hope he used the less famous player’s cards in his bike spokes to make cool noises when he rode. But the players like Mickey Mantle, Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Ernie Banks, Sandy Kolfax were all rookies during the 1950’s. Alas the house held no baseball cards. I think Mom and Dad might have given them to one of his good friends.

 

With Dad’s sister Wilma’s family in California in 1961…

 

The other item I never found was one of my jackets. A special one I can’t imagine Mom would have thrown out. It was during our big California vacation, the summer of 1961. Larry had been gone for 3 years. Mona was married. We drove our 1958 Chevy, 2-door Canyon Coral Biscayne. All the way from Iowa, through the summer heat. Without air. Squished with 5 people. Mom and Dad in the front, 2 paying customers (an elderly neighbor and one of her grandchildren) and me (a high maintenance brat who really wanted the back seat all to herself), stuffed in the back. The trip was fabulous, once we got there. Our goal was visiting a lot of family. My Dad’s sister, Wilma, Mom’s only sib, twin brother Floyd, Mom’s uncle on the Berghuis side and some family friends.

Dad almost done taking down a building, mid’50’s…

 

We went to Knott’s Berry Farm, Disneyland, a Dodger’s game, and a trip to Tijuana, Mexico. While in Mexico, Mom bought me (I was 10) an exquisite wool jacket. It was red and had beadwork and sequins all over the jacket. The back was decorated with a very fancy sombrero. Mind you, from that trip Mom managed to keep the Dodger ticket stubs, a small stuffed (but very much alive at one time, kinda gross) alligator, a crate of orange bubblegum that resembled a crate of real oranges, and a newspaper with the Gerritson name in the headlines made at Knott’s documenting our visit there. But the jacket disappeared. How come it’s the one item I pine after? I would venture Mom gave it to someone with a daughter or granddaughter whom she worked with sometime after I outgrew it. Does not really sound like her though. She was always sentimental about my clothing and mementos. She never mentioned to me what happened to the jacket.

 

The plain 1958 Chevy Biscayne…

 

Do you know what I did find in a closet when I was packing up the house after it sold? Mom kept the dress I sewed in home economics class. I might have been in 8th or 9th grade. To me, the dress had complete failure written all over it. Mom thought it worthy of closet space, however. And in that old house of theirs, closet space was at a premium. I somehow managed to sew one of the dress sleeves on backwards. Three times. In desperation, my home ec. teacher, Miss Weiner finally plopped herself down at my sewing machine (my sewing machine is a term used loosely) and quickly sewed the sleeve on right. Miss Weiner’s way of ridding herself of this annoying girl who couldn’t sew. And could care less about sewing in any form.

 

My baby doll highchair, 1956…

 

When I was young Dad did odd jobs around Rock Valley. I think it was a 3-part equation. Money, he enjoyed putzing, and it got him out of the house. For a legitimate reason. He was often hired to take down a building. Not the building in Hawarden he was taking down when Larry was killed though. In this particular empty building was an old wicker doll buggy. He brought it home. The results of having that buggy in the house was 2-fold. Mom always said it was mine. But she never really let me play with it. I was no longer a toddler who would have run helter-skelter up and down the sidewalk. But I was a doll fanatic, and surely would have had it outside much of the time. Giving my babies rides. And maybe letting other kids run with it up and down the sidewalk too. She bought me a steel stroller and high chair for my babies, so I’d leave the wicker antique one alone. She did not trust me with my wicker stroller until I’d been married several years. Guess she also wanted my kids past the point of running it up and down the street. Thanks Mom. Because of your steadfast hope that I not ruin the buggy, it remains in pristine condition.

 

Wicker buggy with doll quilt Bessie Jacobs made for me, 1957…

 

My dolls. I don’t know exactly when the first Barbie doll was produced, believe it was late 1950’s, but I never had one. Mom bought me one fancy lady doll. From the Council Oaks store on Main Street. Council Oaks was a grocery store, but they had quite a few toys before Christmas. This doll had nylons with seams in the back and a fancy dress. And boobs. I’m pretty sure Mom put her on lay away and paid about fifty cents a week until Christmas.

 

My fancy lady doll from Council Oak store, about 1958…

 

Then I had a walking doll, named Cindy. She was not much smaller than me when I got her. She was supposed to walk along beside me. But she was a klutz. I figured it was because she couldn’t see properly and my Mom wouldn’t buy her glasses. So I cut her hair and bangs. I’ve not been able to find the white pinafore that goes over her faded blue dress since we moved. The whole thing was beautifully smocked. I took it off years ago when Shannon, much later Ari were little and played with her.

 

Cindy with very short bangs and missing her smocked pinafore, 1955…

 

My favorite doll was my baby doll. I had a bottle, rubber pants, and cloth diapers for her. She wet after I fed her. Mom had some seamstress gal make a bunch of clothes for her. I vividly remember heading to the variety store with some change clutched in my hand. The purpose of my shopping venture was to buy a bottle of Johnson & Johnson Baby Lotion. The pink stuff that smelled like a newborn. I believe they still make it. Honest, I would glop some on my little hands, and put it on my baby doll, Lori Jean. Do you want to know how long it takes to rub in lotion on a plastic/rubber doll? That lotion does not absorb very well in plastic. I’d just rub and rub, making enough friction to ignite her hair! But she was my baby and her plastic skin needed to be soft. She’s still soft after all these years. Thanks Johnson & Johnson.

 

Lori Jean with the soft plastic skin, 1956..

 

But there was something that Mom had saved that I had completely forgotten about. A tiny metal jewelry box, lined in red cloth. Bottom of it says Japan. Inside was my charm bracelet. What a delightful surprise! Just looking at the bracelet flooded me with so many memories. The tiny stagecoach with a tag from Estes Park, Colorado during a vacation in my mid teens. A charm pennant from the Rock Valley Rockets in orange and black, signifying my allegiance or something I got as a cheerleader. A tiny replica of a class ring. From Hubs. A charm that has my birthstone (December) in the middle. A flat disk with 2 intertwining hearts that declares, “going steady.” A rotary phone because talking on the phone was a teenage girls life. A key and a small heart. Aww. And a cross, anchor with a small heart and red stone in the center. Don’t remember what that’s about. But religion would be my guess. Even the bracelet is very nicely done. I probably bought it at De Vries’ Jewelry store. I loved going in there, talking to Mrs. De Vries with her silver and black hair. Mr. De Vries, who I remember as very tall would sometimes walk out from the back of the store. He had this magnifying eye piece thingy on the side of his glasses. Wow, something I hadn’t though about in decades. This has been such a neat trip down memory lane. Simply charming…

 

Rediscovering this brings a big smile….

I never thought much of this until now…

 

 

You’ve been waiting patiently for an update. I know. It’s just been a blah February slump. But it’s time to give you the latest information on the kid who’s a basketball whiz. And my grandson.

I’m anxiously awaiting his electrifying return to the court…

Seems like it’s been a year since I’ve reported any basketball news about Landon. (Drew to the rest of the world) should be making headlines again. Actually, it hasn’t been that long. He was instructed to wear a boot and use crutches for a stress fracture in his left foot for 4 weeks. Starting on January 9th. Right after his phenomenonal, season high 22 point game against Ann Arbor Skyline. As a 15 year old freshman.

It was hard for Landon (or any of us, really) to determine exactly how or if his foot was healing. For the past 2 years, the only time his left foot caused him a lot of pain was when he was doing amazing things on the basketball court. So, with the protection of wearing the boot and the help of crutches, his foot felt pretty darn good.

 

Friday’s opposing coach asking Landon when’s he going to be back lighting it up on the court?

 

Shannon and Tracey took him to the orthopedic specialist on February 5th. Landon assumed he would be cleared to play that same day. As if. Youth with optimism, you gotta love it. Pioneer was playing the other Ann Arbor “big” rivalry, Huron that night. Mom and dad tried to explain playing that soon however, was very unlikely. After having no weight bearing on his foot and his ankle immobilized, they couldn’t imagine he could just go out on the court and play strenuous basketball immediately.

First item of business, a new X-Ray. Good news. The stress fracture was healing. Bad news. It still had a ways to go. Landon was devastated. Looking at the big picture, it’s hardly a blip on the screen. But when you’re a 15 year old freshman who’s made the varsity basketball team in a humongous high school, and they’re smack dab in the middle of an undefeated basketball season, it’s a whole different ballgame. And when you’ve just started hitting your stride with that close knit group of guys, it’s the equivalent of a lifetime. Doc explained to Landon how the fracture had to be completely healed or he’d be facing surgery to repair it in the future. Maybe during his senior year instead. Plus thinking he might be able to jump back on the court was foolhardy at best. Good way to tear his ACL or break an ankle. Man, could this get any worse? Not much, in Landon’s opinion.

 

Landon sitting the bench in street clothes. But wearing a shoe finally, 2-12-16…

 

So this is what Doc proposed. Wear the boot another 2 weeks (piss, moan and groan). But now without the crutches. After one week, Landon could put on a shoe and go bootless for one hour a day, increasing the length of time each day. Following the second week, 2 more weeks of 5 days a week physical therapy. Pretty much sounded like 6 months sentence to Landon.

But he’s already done with week one. Friday night was the first game we’ve gone to since Landon’s been sidelined. He looked weird in street clothes, and used game time for his ‘out of boot experience.’ (More like 2 hours, but at least he was sitting through much of it). I tried to stay focused, but my mind wondered. There was no pitiful little notebook in my hand to track his stats. Around the 3 minute mark in the first quarter, I felt like crying. This was the usual time he went into the game. Geez, I’m as bad as he is about this injury. I know it could have been much more serious. Get a grip, gram.

 

All dressed up for his emcee gig at school…

 

When he went on the injured list, the Pioneers were 11-0 and ranked 5th in the state. They’ve lost 3 of their last 6 games. Still respectable at 14-3. Don’t know if Landon’s sitting on the sidelines has made a difference or not. Who am I trying to kid? Of course it’s made a difference. But I may not look at his play quite as objectively as I should. Deric is back on the court after breaking his ankle a few weeks before Landon’s stress fracture was finally diagnosed. He looked good and played well.

 

These guys! We were playing Bedford Kicking Mules! So the student section dressed like this…

 

Landon’s managed to stay busy during his recuperation. He was chosen to be the emcee at Pioneer for a program during Black History month. He looked positively fetching. Then he got a new “do” which also looks pretty darn cute. Decided maybe a new girl in his life might be a welcome distraction. Then promptly forgot about the one subject in school giving him trouble. Algebra. Ugh. Now dad’s been all over him like a cheap suit on that little issue. Landon’s been mentioned a couple times in the sports section of the Detroit Press. I kid you not. An article about Michigan’s top high school freshman, making big impacts on their respective basketball teams. Also, he was on some ESPN Twitter site that I can’t even begin to understand. I hope it doesn’t go to his head, but truthfully, it’s gone to mine.

 

Detroit Free Press, Jan. 18, 2016…

 

If the healing continues, and he breezes through therapy, studies a bit harder to get mom and dad off his case, Landon might play in a couple games before district tournament. This is driving me nuts, so I can just imagine what’s it’s doing to him. He looked fairly miserable during the game Friday night. Being a good team player comes other responsibilities too. Another lesson where he may have needed a refresher course. He’s a good student and a great kid. Just needs to focus on the big picture. As does his gram…

 

No, not a scar. Maybe a Nike swoosh???

 

I’ve touched on part of this story a couple of times since I’ve been blogging. How strongly I felt about motherhood. A compelling issue (barring any infertility complications) was when to have kids. I did not want to be an old mom, thus no kids after I turned thirty. You have to remember, I had yet to reach my 19th birthday. Sure is different 45 years later. Some gals don’t think about childbearing until their late 30’s or early 40’s. Even more important to me was not having my kids close together. Could not visualize maintaining my sanity if I had more than one child in diapers. I know this was not the norm, but I felt very strongly about it. Still do.

Shannon, about 5…

But spacing children does have some disadvantages. You now have this amazing 4 year old who is capable of reading, writing, doing her own laundry, and suddenly you start feeling the urge to have another baby. Back in comes the crib, bottles, diapers, (yes, real cloth ones from the Neanderthal age) for another 3 years. Can be a vicious cycle. Quite often when children are spaced 4 or more years apart, they aren’t very close to one another. Still, it was how I foresaw being the best mom I could be. Ready to send one off to kindergarten, when the house was filled with the sounds of a newborn.

 

Joshua 1, swinging while I hang up the sheets, 1976…

 

Add to the mix our little surprise package named Adam. Not exactly planned and at a time when I thought the baby paraphernalia had disappeared from the house forever. Adam wasn’t that far behind Shannon almost 9, and Joshua, 4-1/2, but we didn’t think we could or would have any more kids. We are thankful every day since he joined our family. But we also didn’t want any more. Family finances were tight on one income. Braces, corrective shoes, constant doctor’s bills and prescriptions. We could only afford one car for the first 2 decades of marriage. Meaning many days, I was car-less and stuck at home. Then there were 3 future college educations to fret about. It was with no regret that I had a tubal ligation the day after Adam was born in 1979. This was a couple months before I celebrated my 29th birthday.

 

Adam 1, enjoying his first Oreo, 1980…

 

I packed school lunches, mostly because we couldn’t afford 3 hot lunch tickets. Peanut butter and jelly, fruit, chips, juice boxes, and something homemade for dessert. Brownies, banana bars, chocolate chip, peanut butter, or oatmeal cookies, pumpkin bread. From the time I finally learned how to bake, there has been baked goods in our house. Always.

 

Davenport, 1984. Josh 9, Adam 5, Shannon 13…

 

Shannon’s appetite I would deem normal. Although for years she could eat her weight in Cheetos. (Not the soft ones) Some gene she inherited from my Mom, who loved them too. Shannon never gained an ounce, probably because she off-set her daily salty snack with 3 oranges. She could eat oranges until the inside of her mouth had canker sores. They she’d have to lay off the citrus for a few days, consuming something other than foods orange in color. She was our fussiest eater. She never really cared for meat. The rest of us couldn’t get enough beef, pork or turkey.

 

Cut out cookie for holidays. I’ve made them since 1975…

 

It started about the time Joshua was in middle school, Adam, early elementary. The moment they jumped off the bus, I could hear their stomachs growling. Ravenous, to the point of nibbling each other’s arms. This trumped up, over the top, steroid type appetite hit my boys early. Eager to get home, they would happily consume a four-course meal as their after school snack. Impatiently waiting another 2-1/2 endless hours before a nice home cooked supper. Which they devoured like they hadn’t seen one morsel of food for 3 days. Where did they put all that food? Both bordered on scrawny. They just couldn’t seem to get enough to eat. Ever.

 

Cold lunch or after school snack, Hunt’s pudding cups…

 

So this mom had now made them some sort of breakfast, although many times it was a variety of cold cereals, which they loved, or those little packs of instant oatmeal (peaches and cream, apple-cinnamon) which they could never eat just one. Try 3. Sometimes I’d make French toast, they might have pop tarts (gross), or toast and jam. But pancakes, eggs and waffles were weekend breakfast family fare. As they were heading out to the bus, I’d hand out their cold lunches. Sometimes in brown bags, some years in fancy lunch pails. Josh still has his Dukes of Hazzard lunch box.

 

Josh took a Dukes of Hazzard lunch box to school, early ’80’s…

 

Two meals down, 2 to go. Yes, that’s 4 a day, besides after supper snacks while we watched TV, or a rented movie. It was an unusual day when I did not have a big supper planned. I cooked every night, but Friday. Which was usually pizza from Little Caesar’s. John would pick up a couple on his way from work. We saved big bucks by eating them at home, because we didn’t have to buy everyone drinks. We always had pop in the house. And as bad as it sounds, we had pop quite often with our supper. If our supper included potatoes or anything with gravy, the boys knew they were doomed. Josh would yell out, ever hopeful he was wrong, “hey Ma, is this milk meal? Or can we have pop?”

 

Potato salad not their favorite, but it was a pop meal….

 

One of the kids main complaints about supper was chicken. And I really wasn’t a huge chicken fan. But John had a favorite meal he could eat every week. At least once. Barbecued chicken on the grill. With a side of veggies and potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil. Didn’t matter if it 92 degrees in the shade or 16 below, he’d be happy as a pig in mud if he could plop a couple of cut up chickens, on the grill. I believe none of the kids ever liked that meal. Hubs could gnaw his way through all the worthless, throw away pieces. Necks, backs, wings. Being the youngest of 5 kids when he was growing up, by the time the platter of chicken got to him, those were the only pieces left. But besides chicken on the grill or meatloaf, (how is it possible that not one of them like meatloaf?) I rarely had complaints about my supper menu.

 

Josh and Adam would make their own box after school in the ’80’s…

 

Some of their favorite supper meals were tacos, spaghetti, stroganoff, tuna casserole, goulash, wild rice with pork chops, or chops on the grill. Although Josh and Adam were 4-1/2 years apart, and were quite close, they parted ways when it came to leftovers of their favorite meals. Now this would be called ‘Extreme Sibling Rivalry Hiding Favorite Foods Sport.’ We’ve always had a second fridge in the basement or garage for extra pop, milk, eggs, beer, night crawlers. After supper, I’d divide up any leftovers, rationing them in small containers. When it came to their favorites, one or the other would wait until I had just clicked off the kitchen light (this, after both came in while I was still cleaning up, complaining that they were still hungry! Are you fricking kidding me? I don’t have the kitchen cleaned up from your last hour of grazing!)

 

Yeah, I should have bought Chef Boyardee stock…

 

Back to the their rather odd leftover obsession. If supper consisted of their favorite foods, both of them wanted ALL the leftovers. But not as much as they wanted the other one NOT to have any. Honestly, I can’t tell you how many times (hundreds) I found a tub of leftover spaghetti, cheesecake, or stroganoff covered in mold. Snugly hidden underneath the lettuce, or way back in a drawer 3 months later. All because Adam didn’t want Josh to eat it or the other way around. But they also had forgotten about it. So they both missed out on numerous leftovers because it was a sad day in the life if one got a leftover helping of spaghetti, but there was none for the other.

 

No leftovers to fight about. Josh and Adam feeling the love, 1984…

 

After coming up with 3 meals a day for 5 people on a tight budget, I threw in the towel for their after school smorgasbord. Simply did not have the mindset in place to fix that 4th meal for them daily. It needed to be quick, easy, somewhat nutritious, and filling. Easy enough for each to do themselves, without making a sink full of dishes. (Nope, I had no dishwasher until I’d been married 25 years. Now I’ve had 2 and never use it) Josh and Adam could each eat a complete box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Well, there’s 2 pans dirty. At the time, they cost about a quarter a box.

 

Adam loved American squirt cheese…

 

Frozen 8″ pizzas from Totino’s kept in the freezer by the dozen. Bags of Hot Pockets. Most of what they ate could be microwaved. The food industry was just recognizing this after school eating phenomenon. Now boxed in containers with a foam cover, making it easy to nuke it, without dumping it in another dish. Adam was crazy about clam chowder soup that came in green foam bowls. Josh preferred Chef Boyardee mini ravioli, or spaghetti and meatballs (an insult to this mom since I make the best spaghetti sauce in the world). Both Josh and Adam doctored their ravioli, putting half in a bowl, topped with a slice of American cheese, then the rest of the can. Heat it, stir it up, changing the red marinara sauce to a orangey, cheesy sauce. Sprinkle Parmesan on top and it was good for the main course. Adam could squirt half a can of Easy Cheese, spraying it right in his mouth. Ugh. Then a Hostess Twinkie, Cupcake, Snoball, sometimes Little Debbie. Which might keep them full until supper a couple hours later.

 

The kids loved homemade goodies, but had to have Hostess in the house too…

 

Outside to run off all that food. They seldom stayed in after school. While Shannon would hit the books when she breezed through the door, the boys would not. Their homework issues would have to be forced on them after supper. Now Shannon was done with her homework and chores, if she had extra curricular activities she was good to go. But the boys were much younger and did not have a lot of extra activities at night yet.

 

Josh and Adam running off their after school meal, 1987…

 

All the kids loved when I got groceries. Shannon and Adam would forage through their favorite cupboards, checking out what I had gotten. Joshua, on the other hand had a quirky habit of his own to find out what I had and hadn’t brought home from the store. He’d read my Meijer receipt like it was a top 10 bestseller. Memorizing exactly what I bought. He’d worry about finding everything later. I don’t know about you, but there weren’t many hiding spots in our house, basement or garage. They always knew where everything was. Doesn’t mean that would help much if my keys were misplaced. But if I tried to hide a good box of candy? Forget it. They could sniff that out before the cellophane was off…