Saturday, February 28, 2009

Thank God For The Memories

I am one of those people who like to reminisce, one who never seems to let go of the past. Perhaps my past was such that it brings me more pleasure then what the future has to offer. I grew up as an only child and in a lower income home when it came to the economy, not much money but we made out ok. My father worked at what ever was available at the time, snow shoveling in the winter and cutting wood in the summer. Times were hard. It was a real depression, not like today when people have a feeling of being poor even when they have an extra twenty bucks in their pocket and not really sure what they want to buy with it. They should know what it’s like to have nothing in their pockets and no way to get any. I could not wait for the government food truck to come to town. That’s when people would line up to get their share of flour, oleo margarine, raisins and canned meat. What a happy day that was. This was the thirties, then came the forties and with it came work for some people, my parents were among them. The Royal River Cotton Mill where they made sand bags for the war (World War Two). I’m not sure what their hourly wage was but I do remember one week when my father got paid. We lived in a small house that my dad and uncle built out in back of my grandparents’ house. That day when he got home from work he started the air-tight stove it burned wood, which he started with paper, well low and behold that day by mistake he threw his pay check in and that took care of that. I remember to this day seeing my father cry and hearing him say to my mother “what are we going to do now”. I heard him say real loud “it’s the whole damn seven fifty”. I know that was what he got paid for the week. Yup, times were hard but we made the best of it and look at what we are crying about today. It’s not easy but you don’t know what hard times are, not unless you came from a poor family and are over seventy years of age. For those of us old enough to remember, it meant recalling trying to save twenty five cents to put in the collection box on Sunday.  Also it meant drawing the shades and putting out the lights at seven o’clock at night when the fire whistle blew, for fear that enemy planes might be somewhere over head. Things got a little better in the early forties, a weekly paycheck though small was still a paycheck and it meant a grocery bill was able to be had at Goodies market. Every Friday night when my father paid his weekly bill they would give him a small paper bag with chocolate creams, times were good.

It was around this time our church started having their lawn party once again. What a fun thing that was. My mother worked on what they called the “fancy table” where they sold linens and things. It was at one of these lawn parties that I found my childhood dream; it came by way of a game called The Wheel of Chance, ten cents for a turn of the wheel. I can remember standing there watching people try their luck. You see the prizes that were offered were either a bag of groceries or a ventriloquist doll. I tried to get my mother to try it for me but she could not leave her table.  I knew for certain that if only I could get this doll I could make him talk. My mother told me that I would have to wait until my father showed up; well needless to say he did show up, without a dime to his name. But he didn’t let me down, he asked a friend of his “will you try to win this doll for my kid”, he promised to buy him a bag of groceries the next week or give him his money back if he should win. My heart was pounding as this man turned the wheel and you guessed right, the doll was mine. Like any kid, then I wanted to go home right away so I could get this doll to talk. So my father and I left the party. Do I really have to tell you what happened next, the doll would not talk, so I put it back in the box, and every now and then I would try it, to see if he would talk, well you know the rest of the story, he never did. However he is still with me today although not in his box, he now has a prime place on our living room sofa. He has been the topic of many conversions. Oh! the simplicity of yesterday, when a ten cent doll was all that it took to make a child happy, now it takes mega bucks and the thrill only lasts for a few days. Thank God for the memories!

I had remembered him as being an early version of Charlie McCarthy but since have been told his is not. So if anyone out there reading this blog can shed any light on his true identity I would appreciate knowing.


Friday, February 27, 2009

A little mystery


Just me again, trying to find a little time to write something I hope you will enjoy. First let me say to all of you that

follow my blog, thanks. I really do enjoy reading your comments. I hope more people will get aboard. For those of you to whom I have not responded bear with me I need to find out how to get your blogging address, I will get there I promise.

My entry for the day, just a little bit of what I call fascination for one that is interested in history and antiques. Approximately thirty years ago maybe longer I found this picture frame in our local dump I was fascinated with it from the moment I saw it. This hand carved rectangular shaped frame with an oval cut out in the center, is trimmed with a barbwire carving and across the top on a ribbon like caving are the words Douglas I. O. M. and at the bottom the words Prisoner of War. But when I turned it over and read what was on the back I really got excited, you see it had been made by a prisoner of war in 1915. I know that year is not all that long ago but the history was what I found so exciting and mysterious, carved in the wood was the prisoner’s serial number. I tried for several years to find out where this camp was located but with no luck. It seems that there are hundreds of Camp Douglas’s but none that had anything to do with a war camp. Well low and behold after all these years I hit pay dirt, thanks to my searching the computer I came up with it’s location, I.O.M. stand for the Isle of Man which lies in the middle of the British Isles set in the Irish Sea between England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. Now tell me how this frame ended up in our local dump. Well I finally found a number to call and I was told by the director of this museum that they were more then excited about my find and that they would be in touch with me and would be able to let me know exactly who the person was that carved the frame because of the serial number, well that’s been two years ago and no one has ever called. They did tell me that in the museum they have may artifacts made by the prisoners of war but none with a barbwire carving I told them I would like to give it to the museum and that was the last I heard. I guess their slow. I have tried several times since to reach them again but no luck. I’m inserting a picture of the frame for you all to see.

If anyone out there has any further information about this frame or the camp I would appreciate hearing from them.

I’ll be blogging again soon.

POW Frame 4 


    POW Frame 3


POW Frame 5

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

By Request, A Re-Do

Due to a technical mishap I have lost several of my blogs and was asked to put the pictures of the  miniature flowers that I make in once again.  So here goes: flowers 1

 flowers 3  flowers 7 flowers 10

These at the bottom are yesterdays creations.


Iris 1 B    Iris 2 Iris 3   Touch of Elegance   



My Beginning

Ten years ago give take a few

I got bit by the bug like a lot of us do

I mulled it over and finally gave in

And for the next six months  it was like living in sin

Have you guessed what it was yet, should I give it a name

I could say HP, Dell or Gateway they all are the same

I did not know honestly what to expect

The damn thing  near drove me crazy, a complete mental wreck

I knew there was no way in winning, not by myself

So I put it back in it’s box and up on a shelf

Each time I walked by I would give it a glance

Tempted to give it a try, just one more chance

I raved about it to anyone who would listen, I finally hit dirt

So I gave him a try ,after all what could it hurt.

Well for three months he showed me all of his interests no interest in mine

I can tell you honestly I was nearly out of my mind

I just wasn’t getting it and my pool was running low

At fifty bucks a whack how long can you go?

Then he showed me email and somehow I caught on

The next thing I knew he had moved and was


I finally said to hell with this thing

And about three weeks later I heard the phone ring

It was my cousin Debbie from whom I had not heard from in years

And she helped me to end my lingering fears

We chatted about old memories, but this is the best

Then we mentioned the computer and you know the rest.

She said her husband was a computer guru

And he would be glad to show me, believe me it’s true

After three weekends I made the test

Now I’m up and blogging and doing my best

But last night something happened, I made a mistake 

And as you know one little move is all it will take

Now I no longer have some of my blogs and it matters not

I just hope it’s not dementia but that I simply forgot

Now I’ve  tried to explain to myself as best that I could

Should I  get them back, I’ll  repost them or  I think that I would

But for now I’ll just wonder if there somewhere in space

And I’ll just blog in something new that will take up their place.

Just so you’ll get  a better idea  of what my computer beginning was like I am inserting an old poem I wrote back when I started . Hope you all will bare with me but poetry is the only way I seem to be able to express myself.



                         MAYBE SOMEDAY

Six months have passed and I don’t know where they’ve gone

I only know for certain, I’m no further along

I keep ranting and raving, pulling out my gray hair

I have moments of depression and I don’t think it’s fair

But I have persistence and just keep clicking away

While frustration overcomes me a little more every day

And yet I keep trying even though it don’t work

Then a message pops up indicating some kind of a quirk

Now I am really confused!  And I don’t think it’s fair

The damn thing says “Click”, but it doesn’t say where

So I ponder a moment then take one more chance

Wrong once again!  I don’t seem to advance

Perhaps I clicked left when I should have clicked right

Could this be the reason things have vanished from sight

Oh thank God for the emails!  It’s my saving grace

For here I feel comfy and I can keep up with the pace

And I forget for the moment what this thing really cost

When I reconnect with old friends I thought sure I had lost

We relate to the weather, pickup with new friends

Review the high price of oil or the best buy on Depends

Now it’s here at this moment I realize that I’m old

And that it’s not really ALT, Delete or holding down on Control

I have heard that this thing is user friendly, mine must have a defect

No doubt something that the factory failed to detect

So I called technical support to ask for advice

They suggested, before clicking I had better think twice

I say “forget it” I’ve already tried that

There’s only one reason and I know it’s the cat

It all began when Felix moved into the house

And started playing around with this thing called a Mouse

So now after all my ranting and raving about,

I can honestly say that I’m no longer in doubt

It was never my clicking, I can forget about that

You see instead of a Mouse, the factory sent me a RAT

Two days after the storm!

Well we got socked again with only 8 inches this time and mixed with freezing rain made it very heavy to say the least. We have ended up with lots of ice everywhere and that is much worse than the snow for us. Therefore not much melting today or yesterday and probably no different tomorrow. Took a short ride around the island today and like everyone took a few pictures. I will put a couple in to show you.  Take a look at the geese they were in the middle of the road and wouldn’t move so we had to wait until they decided to move along and when they did they came right up to my window and took a look in the car. We thought they might start pecking at the door so we went around them.  There was a car that came along and got the same greeting. I guess they just wanted to let you know who had the right of way. I am still busy making flowers.  Oh yes I wanted to add the materials I use are 3 different types, Cernet, Femo & Super Sculpy.  That is going to be it for now  will try and blog again tomorrow.


2-24-09 Corner by Ice Pond



2-24-09 Corner Oakland, whitehead   Island



2-24-09 Geese On Whitehead St.



2-24-09 Out Kit Window


2-24-09 Island Ave.  From End of Reed Ave

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Uncle Sam


It’s a political thing I’m sure and each generation has its own way of dealing with it. For sure it’s what ever seems to be popular at the time and what makes believers out of the wild yarns that are being spun by the politicians on both sides. As a young child I can remember everyone mentioning Uncle Sam, his picture was everywhere, in store windows, on billboards, magazines and newspapers etc. Back then I thought he must have been someone’s uncle but whose, this man with the tall hat and dressed in the colors of the American flag. I did wonder who he really was. Now after 70+ years, I have learned that he was a personification of the United States, more specifically of the American government. First usage of the term Uncle Sam dates from the War of 1812. Folklore holds Uncle Sam origins go back to the soldiers in upstate New York. They would get their meat in barrels stamped with the initials U. S. The soldiers joked about the initials in reference to the meat supplier Samuel Wilson. At last my wondering as to who Uncle Sam might have been has been answered, he was simply a symbol of the times. No one as yet seems to be able to fill his shoes. And to this day he still gives us a since of pride and protection.


Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Off To The City

Today I’ll be brief,I’m off for the day

For a little shopping and what more can I say

Surly I’ll find time for filling my gut

I’m not really fussy so I don’t know with what.

Been really busy making flowers for an order to ship out however I will get back to blogging I promise.

Island Paradise

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Friday, February 13, 2009

An Old Fashion Valentine

Just want to wish all of you Bloggers out there a very happy Valentines Day!


An Old Fashion Valentines Day

I remember when Valentines Day

Meant a box of chocolates or a pretty bouquet

But Lovers today consider this as old fashion

They need Viagra and condoms to rekindle their passion

I’m still grateful for the chocolates and pretty bouquet

For the memories we shared which are still with me today

And for those who think of us old folks as being over the hill

Or say that we’re no longer active because we don’t need the pill

Should remember that the world is full of romance

And as long as there is an old man who can fiddle

There will be an old woman to dance

He’ll still give her chocolates or a pretty bouquet

And they’ll still find their thrill on Valentines Day


Thursday, February 12, 2009

Lincoln Birthday

Project 35

Today is a birthday worthy of remembering, a day that should and hopefully be celebrated by all old enough to remember Abraham Lincoln a president that stood up and fought a war in which he believed and knew was right. A war that was intended to make all men free, it was the start of something big. How sad it is that some of the young today hardly recognize his name. Many that are under the age of forty or fifty do not watch the news or listen to the historians and hardly recognize his name. There is something to be said about being called “old folks”we have a since of pride and appreciation for what our country stands for today and what it had to go through to get here. Lincoln alone did not succeed by himself but his foresight and determination paved the way for all men to be equal and free. I wonder how many if any grade schools today celebrate his birthday or even mention his name the way we use to do. I still to this day recall a song that we sang in the second grade, and I still sing it for any child that happens to be around when this great day is here.

“A penny is a common site so round and plain so seldom bright And yet it holds a shinning light from Lincoln’s face.

A penny is not much I hear though children hold it very dear For looking from it kind and clear is Lincoln’s face”.

Several years ago I met a young man from Illinois who happened to be a grade school teacher. He never heard the song before and was surprised knowing Lincoln had come from his state. He said he was going to make an effort to have it introduced in the schools. I never heard whether he actually succeeded or not.

Songs about the Civil War were popular in my day, my father use to sing them to me every night when he got home from work. I remember them clearly “John Brown’s body lies a molding the grave, Then there was “I remember the night that old Ned died and the tears on his face ran like rain for he knew when they buried him into the ground that they’d never see his likes again, lay down the shovel and the hoe hang up the fiddle and the bow for there’s no more work for dear old Ned for he’s gone where the old Darkies go”.

I hope this year it will mean that all men are created equal if nothing else, and that we have endured .


Forbidden Sweets

This was a strange kind of day first it looked like rain and then the fog came in and blocked the harbor view, I decided to work on my miniature plants, tulips, lilies and foxglove. That didn’t seem to be the answer to my wanting. There seemed to be a gnawing in the pit of my stomach that called for food just a little something that would satisfy a diabetic you no ,something that is forbidden in the diabetic world, so I said oh to hell with it and fulfilled my desire. As a result came this feeling of guilt.

Forbidden Sweets

Today I’ll admit I was some kind of a cheat

Like a cockroach in a pastry shop

With a mission to eat

Chocolate cookies and a cup of weak tea

I find little difference between the cockroach and me .

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

I Remember Yesterday

Here I am again with thoughts to remember and dreams to dream on, things that make one wish that yesterday was tomorrow. When the back woods were filled with choke cherry trees, and your tongue puckered up and still you felt up to the challenge and kept on eating to prove you were mightier than all the others. Back before housing developments squeezed us all into small spaces and and pastures filled with pismires became a thing of the past.

I Remember Yesterday

I remember yesterday and all the things I use to do,

How I played in Barbour’s Field and where the wild iris grew.

And Tannery Brook in winter was like a winter paradise,

I spent endless hours there, playing on the ice.

Up on the end of Summer Street there was a place we called,

Round The Turn,

And every kid that played baseball went up there to learn.

The fields were filled with lilies of the valley and they perfumed the summer air,

But the fields and lilies have long since gone, and now there are houses there.

On every February 22nd our town joined in a celebration,

They would light a gigantic bonfire to honor the father of our nation.

I recall the big parades on every Fourth of July,

And the magic of fireworks that lit up the nighttime sky.

These were the days when we got our nickels worth, sometime even more,

When we bought penny candy, down at Andy’s Handy store.

On Saturday night the band would play above Charlie’s barbershop

And anyone passing by suddenly would stop.

It was as though they were listening to Sousa, as music filled the air,

And I have such fond memories of all of this because my parents took me there.

Yes I recall with fondness those days that use to be,

The days of hopscotch and alley pots, the days of simplicity.

And when I think of Yarmouth, I recall how way back when,

Nearly every house on West Main Street kept chickens in a pen.

Parent Love

Today I am going to share a poem that I wrote with you.

Parent Love

They were like robots of endless


She had a heart filled with endless


And yet they were to young to understand

The boundaries of her protective hand

So they rebelled, they cried and cried

And when they were spent

To whom do you think they went

She cuddled and kissed them and dried their tears

The same way in which mothers have done for years

It’s a game called Parent Love

This is it for today, check on me tomorrow.

About Me: Margaret