Keep Calm – Back To School Tomorrow

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The Greenwood Community Schools start the 2019 school year next week. Although my nephew could spend a few more days enjoying summer vacation, his mother can hardly wait until the start of school.
We spent last Saturday at stores going over Back to School Sales. Shopping for his first day of school is a task that we all agree can only be endured once a year.
Why is it that mothers and sons can never agree while they shop? I assured my sister that school shopping for the little guy will get easier as he gets older. She gave me a sneer, she knew I was lying.
Each item has to be just right — approved not only from the school but also by his peers. He is ten years old now and why would he actually want to use last years back pack? Why would he need new socks? The ones he has worn all summer are good enough for him.
The list from the school states he needs to bring four large glue sticks, a box of tissues, scissors and yes a box of Band-Aids. No ring binders are allowed in school and please bring one sealed box of children’s Tylenol. My sister wonders if she should buy a box of Tylenol for the teacher.
Perish the thought that he might ride his bicycle to school on summer days. He is a year older now and would rather walk than ride a bicycle. Can a motor bike be far behind?
When we parted at the end of the day they were still discussing how
he was going to get his hair cut.
This summer has been hot and humid but tolerable. After many happy hours on his skateboard except one – my nephew will have his cast taken off in two more weeks.
School started this week and for the most part both mother and son
are glad of it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Livin’ the Dream with Green Stamps

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My nephew Doug, was helping me search the attic for a particular box. Naturally, he did more looking around than being actual help. He came over with a book of what he called funny looking postage stamps. No, they were not postage stamps; they were trading stamps I told him.
A few of us remember the day of “trading stamps” from Gold Bond, Eagle,
S & H Green, Top Value and others. They were given out by grocers, gas stations and some department stores with each purchase.
The stamps had to be put in books, which usually meant my sister or I would sit around the kitchen table, licking stamps. Although my mother used a sponge to wet the stamps, my sister and I would resolve to lick the stamps till our mouths went dry.
At different stores, you would get fulfillment books to put your trading stamps in. The pages of each book outlined that enabled you to paste your stamps in the proper place.
Each page required a total of fifty stamps. Stamps came in point system: singles, ten, and fifty. You couldn’t mix the points. If you wanted a page of singles you had to press fifty singles. If you wanted a page of tens you needed to press five tens. With the fifty point stamp you need to press only one on a page.
Several books full of stamps could be redeemed for all sorts of merchandise . . . small kitchen appliances, sporting goods, children swing sets, radios, televisions — you name it.
I remember vividly my family planned to save trading stamps for a blender. Only after mother explained that we could make milk shakes did my sister and I agree with her plan. My father simply went along with the program. He would just bring home the stamps. We only needed 10,000 stamps to get the blender.
Saving up 10,000 stamps seemed like a daunting task. There was a Osterizer at the end of that rainbow, so we patiently filled up stamp books until we reached our goal.
Eventually, a few stores discontinued the stamps and cut their prices accordingly. Trading stamps vanished from most places. “So you got things from just saving these stamps and stuff?” Doug asks.
I tell my nephew, “You know the silverware you use at grandmother’s house came from Betty Crocker/General Mills box tops.”
Condescending, Nine year old Doug rolled his eyes, “No Way” he said shrugging his shoulders. I shook his little shoulder. “Yes Way.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Graduation is not the end; it’s the beginning”

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The Senior Class of Greenwood Community High School will hold commencement exercises Sunday afternoon.

As seniors, marching to get their diplomas, they will remember many things. They will always remember graduation night, the Senior Prom, the high school song, and the various clubs.

Memories of football and basketball games, the many band trips, the pep-sessions, and the chorus and band contests will linger. As well as the cafeteria line, the trips on school buses to different school functions along with the different sport teams. All will be remembered, down to signing each other’s senior memory book.

Will they miss their school companions? Will they miss the school life? Do you think you might see a tear in their eyes as they play the processional and recessional? Do you think they will miss the halls so noisy and crowded? Do you think one might hold back his/her emotions with diploma in hand?

Do you think they know they will miss the faculty whom they sometimes doubted? Do you wonder if the tears will start so flow at the last note of the band? Can you imagine you see a little sadness as each senior shakes a hand and takes a final bow? If you think there will be, then I guess you are right.

More than one photograph or video will be taken at the commencement and various parties in honor of the graduates. A few pictures will be taken with smiles and a few taken with tears.

At graduation there are hugs, tears, kisses, laughter and cheers. Everyone one of the emotions was grasped by someone different. For each graduate the essential memory would remain the same.

They were the graduation class of 2019.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Worst Meal Ever !

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If you’re like me, you have trouble some days getting into the spirit of the conversation. Try spicing up the talk around the office.
At the office today, the topic around the water cooler was: What was the worst meal you have ever eaten?
Without hesitation Susan was the first to chime in. “I’ve had pickled squid” and it tasted just like it sounds.” Dianna admitted to eating alligator and it was not good. Frog legs and she would pass on them again. Duckling and it was horrible. But she loved the escargot.
Ronnie admitted eating groundhog, snapping turtle, quail, goose, opossum, and raccoon. He also said he tried these foods back in his drinking days. He wasn’t sure he would try them sober. Terry admitted eating the rattle snake at Rustler’s Roste in Arizona and he had the t-shirt to prove it..but he wouldn’t eat it again.
“Once, at a Chinese wedding,” Lisa hesitated..…perhaps trying to choose her words carefully. “I tried shark fin soup..it was slimy. Fried duck skin…just the skin, no meat…oh and octopus… that were still moving. When we left the wedding reception we stopped at McDonalds.”
Jim’s answer was simple. “I had a meatloaf made from Special K cereal and it was gross. Pam admitted she has eaten: rabbit, venison, bear, squirrel, frog legs, ostrich and turtle. “But the strangest thing was the sweetbreads which were the pancreas and glands of a calf. All that served in a puffed pastry shell. And it did not taste like chicken.”
The panic look on Betty took us by surprise, “I’ve had nutria meat and I would not recommend it”. To be honest I had to google it after she walked away. Really Betty..…you ate a giant swamp rat?
Yet to the question, “What was the worst meal…. Larry was quick to answer. “Each meal I ever ate at my mother-in-law’s house.”
Now that’s an all together different subject for tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Saint Patrick Day!

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Happy Saint Patrick Day! One day in the year that a great deal of people can celebrate their Irish Heritage. You will see shamrocks and people wearing the traditional green at more than one party. What makes the typical American turn Irish for one day?
Celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day could be an excuse for a day to celebrate after the winter blahs. It could be the corned beef and cabbage. Maybe just maybe it’s the green beer.
With warmer days not too far away, we will be able to plant the garden. Maybe Mother Nature knows best. Yes, there are signs of tulips popping out in the front yard. Hello Spring !
The road maintenance crews are busy, working on the streets before it’s too late for your automobile. County roads are lined with hubcaps lost by passing motorists while ruts in the road wreak havoc with car suspension. I can’t say for certain how deep the chuckholes are but I have heard that if you look in one of the massive chuckholes on the way to Linton you can see the top of a Jeep Cherokee that has been reported missing.
You have to feel sorry for folks who go to Florida at this time of year. No comparison could be drawn to any climate on earth that compares to Indiana’s first blush of spring. A few days from now those daffodils that defy any remaining cold weather will jump up out of your long silent lawn.
Yes, the promise of spring in Indiana has no equal anywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Holidays

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The fascination of the holiday season is that Christmas is a time to treasure all the magical events of the past and hope for the joy of the future.
For my family, the most favorable memories that relate with the holiday are childhood memories. We also share the memories of our loved ones no longer with us.
There was great uncle Mount, who would come for Christmas dinner and then give each of the children a two dollar bill. My Aunt Edith would always stop by soon after we had finished our meal. She would say she didn’t come to eat but she filled the plate that my mother would get her. She would then tell of how many other houses she had visited that day.
Remembering the holiday season of past years, we clearly shared happy times. Our family gathered around the dinner table. A snowman stood outside the living room window. Giggles coming from the back room as the young children were busy playing games. Happy voices filled each room. The scent of the fresh evergreen tree blended in with the kitchen smell of freshly baked pecan pie.
I will always have the memory of the holidays with my parents. They knew the spirit of love and goodwill. There was the Christmas morning I ran to see my easy bake oven on which there was a typed note. It said simply: “Have your daddy finish putting this together … Santa is in a hurry.”
In our house, we will make this holiday season another joyous year–one to join the memories of holidays past.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not a Good Day In Indiana

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Greenwood Indiana residents have capitalized on the mild weather this past weekend. There was a lady out sun bathing. Although it was nice weather I wondered if she would get more of a wind burn than a sun burn. There were children out playing and riding bikes. Residents opted to wash automobiles or go for a walk. Sunday, you could hear the lawn mowers throughout the different neighborhoods.
All this and I opted to stay home for I have a visit from the flu bug.
The flu bug–you know what illness I speak of. The traditional flu symptoms: loss of appetite, fever, achiness. Then there is the terrible fatigue.
I have no desire to work or play and want to nap repeatedly. I’ve looked at every magazine in the house. The television volume hurts my head and now my eyes hurt so I can’t read the newspaper. Going outside is out of the question. Any near future of energy is impossible. I simply remain under the afghan in a prone position on the couch.
The hubby being healthy around me is irritating. How can he have escaped this dreaded bug? His smile makes me aggravated. He suggests a visit to the clinic. I snarl. It takes no medical degree to know that I should get plenty of rest and drink lots of fluids. He smiles, leaves the room with a bounce that I find a tad annoying. He could at least fake a slight cough.
Any amount of effort leaves me exhausted. No hot tea or sports drink have any effect. I feel more sapped than before.
Tomorrow I will set forth to work. Not so much because of dedication but rather I’m tired of simply being with myself.