Remembering When

Hello Everyone,

Last night Sir knight and I spent a wonderful evening out visiting with one of my college roommates and her husband; we laughed and giggled like the old days remembering all the unique/bizarre things that occurred in our college dorm back in the old days.

All that reminiscing put me in a rather nostalgic frame of mind which was intensified this morning as I was ironing up a pile of my moms old handkerchief‘s, which we unearthed this month as we played musical cupboards and rearranged the look of the house. My hands pulled and patted them in place as the iron glided over them, and I remembered ironing these same hankies many years ago. My mother taught me how to iron on hankies,, advancing up to napkins and pillowcases when I was 6 years old. It was also my job to make sure all the hankies made it in to the wash, searching everyone’s pockets and moms and my purse every Friday evening. Wash day was Saturday morning and mom always had them washed and on the line by 10am so that they would be dry in enough time for me to get them ironed Saturday early evening, so that everyone had a clean hanky for pocket or purse for Church Sunday morning. Then soon the handkerchief gave way to grabbing a pile of Kleenex from the box - you didn’t have to iron it and threw it right away after using it (such convience right). Yes it was that, but somehow it lacks a certain charm, what genteel lady would ever drop a Kleenex and expect a man to pick it up to return to her ,while making flirtatious eye contact. Some carried hankies that were monogrammed others liked to collect a certain flower or bird, etc that maybe hinted to their temperament (Yes the meaning of flowers was even important for picking your signature hanky flower.) I love carrying a freshly ironed hanky in my purse to this day.





On my desk sit’s a fine fountain pen, which I love to use when addressing cards or writing letters. I learned to write in 3rd grade using a fountain/cartridge pen. I love the feel of it in my hand - the smell of damp ink on paper is divine - using a blotter to make sure all is dry before folding the letter to enclose in the envelope. Is so relaxing Sadly it was replaced by the ballpoint pen because of its’ convenience, while I was still in grade school . - Now the teaching of penmanship and the art of writing has been replaced because of the convenience of the computer. But while some think this is progress; I think it criminal that my grandchildren know only how to print because the schools don’t have the time to teach cursive, much less the Palmer Method. On this same note a few of my friends seem to think that an e-mail sent in a cryptic type language is the way to go - (cU soon ttfn ) you call that a message, me I miss those long newsy letters written by hand that talked about all the silly little things that happened that week/month since they last wrote.

Just what are the schools teaching now a days is my big question? New Math? Will someone tell me what was wrong with the old Math? History and Geography have been combined into a hybrid course called Social Studies which does an inadequate job at teaching either of the two core subjects (kind of like the Jack of all trades theory - but master of none) but it is important they say to teach diversity. Why does school need to teach diversity ? - Life teaches us about diversity. A quick look around will tell even the simplest of observers that we live in a world of diversity. Computers, faster travel methods and television have made the world smaller. We no longer live in “predominantly Irish, Italian, Polish, or Mexican neighborhoods. Your next door neighbor maybe from anywhere; be it Japan, Haiti, India, Etc. so diversity is there just waiting for us to observe It and live it. Families teach us to hang onto that which we believe in (our values) yet respect friends, neighbors, teachers and any and all those who are different from us.

Television. When I was growing up we didn’t get our first television till I was 7 1/2 years old . On school days we were allowed to watch the Mickey Mouse Club (till it was canceled in 1959), then it was homework time. And my teachers never seemed to worry that carrying a heavy school bags ( and yes back then it was a school bag - no- backpacks) was too hard on us physically - nor the doing of an assignment in each subject, each night would interfere with down time and add to my stress. Supper was healthy and nutritious and then my brother and I did dishes (he washed ,I dried). If homework wasn’t finished this was the time to finish that up - if not we were allowed to watch one show (usually whatever Mom and Dad were watching) before taking our bath or shower and going to bed. I was in bed by 8:30 pm till I got into HS then bedtime was extended on school nights till 9:30 pm - weekend bedtimes were set on a as need basis - if there were no dances or parties - we were expected to go to bed immediately after the 10pm news. So why is it I often find my grandson’s and their friends playing on the computer till almost midnight? Why are they so tired in the morning that waking them up is a full time job in it self in the am.?

Oh gosh - I miss the good old days; but I guess better get back into reality.

Thank you all for being so kind and listening to an old lady ramble on. Be glad - at least I didn't give you the story about walking 2 miles to school up hill both ways! That was my fathers favorite story.

Hugs,
Penny