I read through Grandma L's 1960 diary. I'd have been four that year. I dog-eared the pages where she was complaining about my parents, who were doing it all wrong. Also pages that contained OMG. I may post some of it here.
I'm definitely going to type it up somewhere and then throw the book away. That will only leave about two dozen to go.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Let This Be A Record
Today I resorted the things in my room. The main goal was to consolodate everything that I still need to sort or value and then get rid of into one set of shelves. Not the pictures still to be sorted. Those are separate. This is stuff that I still haven't convinced myself I couldn't get a few dollars for, and letters that I haven't read.
I may be keeping more than is sensible, but the pile gets smaller every time I sort through it. Right now I'm sorting through old 45 rpm records.
Dad's: Begin the Beguine, The Shifting, Whispering Sands, Deep Purple (Bing Crosby), My Happiness, To Each His Own, What Is A Girl?/What Is A Boy? (Jackie Gleason), Cold, Cold Heart (x3), Daddy's Little Girl, Riders in the Sky (x2), Tennessee Waltz, The Glow Worm, Tumbling Tumbleweeds, Your Cheatin' Heart, You Always Hurt the One You Love, Born to Lose, Mockin' Bird Hill, The Wayward Wind, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, and It's Been a Long, Long Time.
Mine: Rainbow Connection, Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White, and Blowin' In the Wind/Puff the Magic Dragon.
Unknown: Chasing A Dream, Blueberry Hill, I'll Take Care of Your Cares/Ballerina, Song of the Islands, Over the Rainbow/You Made Me Love You, Till We Meet Again, Anytime, Hopelessly Devoted to You, and a box set of La Traviata, on clear red discs.
Dad had a preference for LPs, so some of these may have been records that I bought cheap to remind me of him, or that I inherited from somewhere else and kept because they were songs he played and songs he sang us to bed with.
I may keep the red ones for awhile, but the others are going. Also going is a box of LP albums, album sets, and 78 records that were definitely his. His name was on most of them. Two were in the cardboard box they had been mailed to him in. I'm glad I went through the box even though I didn't keep any of the records in the end. There was also a photo album that he had kept in high school. There were enough pictures of other kids to show that he had friends. But most of the pages were filled with pictures of planes.
He was always interested in WWII planes. Some were post cards. Some were the size of, and had backs like, playing cards. Some were smaller photos. I'm going to mail them to Beloved Son, because he's shown interest in Dad's army time and his army time wouldn't have happened without this prior interest. If BS wants to throw them out after looking at them, that's fine.
I did my due dilligence. I looked online, checking on the 78's. The best advice there is that if it was a popular song, it isn't worth the bother of trying to sell. Early jazz and pre-WWII country, western, or hillbilly might be worth something, but Bing Crosby won't be.
Give me a sec. There are at least four albums of 78's in the Going Away Shelves. Some titles I'm not familiar with. Probably not Dad's. "That Mink On Her Back (Brought the Wolf to My Door)." One of them is a picture disc with Cowboys and cows. I may check on a value for that one. It has fine scratches, but may not have skips. Probably a lost cause, but out of nearly two boxes worth, checking on one or two won't hurt me.
So "Out Where the West Winds Blow" is number one of two to be checked. Number two is "The Voice of . . . Barry Goldwater." It's his acceptance speech from his nomination for president. I had no idea that those were pressed into LP's.
There's about a box full of LP's left, and those were probably mine. These were the ones I was feeling guilty about, though, so those will be easy to go through. The culls are by the front door, ready to be taken to the van. With them are my old speakers and tape/CD player. Getting those out of my bedroom is freeing up significant floor space. I'm going to enjoy it. I'll let you know if I can get big bucks for Barry.
Oh, my. I just took it out to see if it had been played much. It hasn't been. And it's an eye-catching transparent bright yellow. A gold LP for Goldwater. Nice.
I may be keeping more than is sensible, but the pile gets smaller every time I sort through it. Right now I'm sorting through old 45 rpm records.
Dad's: Begin the Beguine, The Shifting, Whispering Sands, Deep Purple (Bing Crosby), My Happiness, To Each His Own, What Is A Girl?/What Is A Boy? (Jackie Gleason), Cold, Cold Heart (x3), Daddy's Little Girl, Riders in the Sky (x2), Tennessee Waltz, The Glow Worm, Tumbling Tumbleweeds, Your Cheatin' Heart, You Always Hurt the One You Love, Born to Lose, Mockin' Bird Hill, The Wayward Wind, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, and It's Been a Long, Long Time.
Mine: Rainbow Connection, Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White, and Blowin' In the Wind/Puff the Magic Dragon.
Unknown: Chasing A Dream, Blueberry Hill, I'll Take Care of Your Cares/Ballerina, Song of the Islands, Over the Rainbow/You Made Me Love You, Till We Meet Again, Anytime, Hopelessly Devoted to You, and a box set of La Traviata, on clear red discs.
Dad had a preference for LPs, so some of these may have been records that I bought cheap to remind me of him, or that I inherited from somewhere else and kept because they were songs he played and songs he sang us to bed with.
I may keep the red ones for awhile, but the others are going. Also going is a box of LP albums, album sets, and 78 records that were definitely his. His name was on most of them. Two were in the cardboard box they had been mailed to him in. I'm glad I went through the box even though I didn't keep any of the records in the end. There was also a photo album that he had kept in high school. There were enough pictures of other kids to show that he had friends. But most of the pages were filled with pictures of planes.
He was always interested in WWII planes. Some were post cards. Some were the size of, and had backs like, playing cards. Some were smaller photos. I'm going to mail them to Beloved Son, because he's shown interest in Dad's army time and his army time wouldn't have happened without this prior interest. If BS wants to throw them out after looking at them, that's fine.
I did my due dilligence. I looked online, checking on the 78's. The best advice there is that if it was a popular song, it isn't worth the bother of trying to sell. Early jazz and pre-WWII country, western, or hillbilly might be worth something, but Bing Crosby won't be.
Give me a sec. There are at least four albums of 78's in the Going Away Shelves. Some titles I'm not familiar with. Probably not Dad's. "That Mink On Her Back (Brought the Wolf to My Door)." One of them is a picture disc with Cowboys and cows. I may check on a value for that one. It has fine scratches, but may not have skips. Probably a lost cause, but out of nearly two boxes worth, checking on one or two won't hurt me.
So "Out Where the West Winds Blow" is number one of two to be checked. Number two is "The Voice of . . . Barry Goldwater." It's his acceptance speech from his nomination for president. I had no idea that those were pressed into LP's.
There's about a box full of LP's left, and those were probably mine. These were the ones I was feeling guilty about, though, so those will be easy to go through. The culls are by the front door, ready to be taken to the van. With them are my old speakers and tape/CD player. Getting those out of my bedroom is freeing up significant floor space. I'm going to enjoy it. I'll let you know if I can get big bucks for Barry.
Oh, my. I just took it out to see if it had been played much. It hasn't been. And it's an eye-catching transparent bright yellow. A gold LP for Goldwater. Nice.
Friday, September 6, 2013
I Have Become Accustomed to Taking Loads to the Thrift Store
I think I posted, once before, about donating things to the thrift store and not posting it here, because I had done it enough that it had started to just feel normal instead of feeling like a little victory. Well, I don't know how many times I've taken things there without posting them here. I'm trying to remember - I think the last batch went three days ago, and it was a fairly big batch that had to be dealt with in stages.
Let's touch the guilt. There's a little voice squeaking away that's implying that I didn't post about it, not because it seems normal, now, but because I've been lazy about posting. No. That's not appropriate. Not for here. The rule for this blog is that it's here to help me, not to give me one more chore to do. If I don't feel like posting, I won't post. That's not being lazy, that's using the blog the way I planned to use it.
Too bad, little voice. You lose.
But let me think for a minute about what it took to make this last donation. Usually, a donation means I've sorted through a box or drawer or shelf and pulled out things no longer needed. They stay in a box or on a shelf near the front door until there are enough things to take to the van. If there's enough right after the sort, they're supposed to go to the van the next time I go out the door.
I allow things to stay in the van for up to a week before I allow myself to feel guilty about it. It saves gas if I drop off a donation while I'm driving nearby on another errand, so I tell myself I'm doing that. Occasionally I'll make a single run right away, but that's only if I feel like giving myself a little boost of accomplishment.
This load was in the van for two or three days. Not bad. But before that, some of it was sitting in the back yard. Why was that? Because two or three weekends ago, I sorted through all of the things in the room off of the garage. The little voice isn't even trying to make me feel guilty about not having posted about that. Do you know why? Because I completely sorted the room off the garage, which was an annoying mess, and however I may have dropped the ball afterwards, it was a big thing and doing a big thing is not lazy.
I know what's out there, now, and which plastic bins have which things in them. Most of it isn't mine, but I still sorted it. I convinced someone else to part with three or four boxes worth of stuff. That's a major thing for me. I have a real reluctance to poke at other people.
Half of it was tossed and half of it was set aside for donation. There were also nearly a dozen cardboard boxes liberated, more than the recycling bin could hold. Next week should see the last of them gone. And some odd-shaped plastic bins were released to donation.
There wasn't much of my stuff in there, but I decided to donate two old sewing machines that belonged to relatives, and probably tossed a few things. It's been long enough that the details are fading. The sewing machines were a big thing to let go of. There's at least one relative who would be unhappy to think that they were no longer "in the family".
So there was a pile of cardboard boxes and plastic donatables in the back yard for a couple of weeks. I can remember when things were put into the back yard temporarily and then stayed there for months. I'm a bit pleased that this particular set started to gall me by the next weekend and that I actually got them gone within two or three weeks because of that.
Another bright spot is that when it was obvious that I wasn't loading up whenever I noticed the stack and felt annoyed with it because I didn't want to do all that heavy lifting, I asked for help loading. Got it, too. With no complaints. I need to do that more often.
So there was a donation load delivered to the thrift store a few days ago. And it was the result of me asking for help. I asked for help because I was staying on top of no letting things just sit in the back yard. And the stuff was sitting in the back yard because I HAD TOTALLY CLEARED, SORTED, AND ORGANIZED THE ROOM OFF OF THE GARAGE!
OK. Now I can see that part of the reason the little voice was telling me that I was lazy with posting, here, is that it knew that I needed to acknowledge, not the load to the thrift store, but the bigger accomplishment behind it. Cool. Not bad, little voice.
And the trash and recycling got picked up yesterday, so if I go out back now and bin the last of the cardboard boxes, the adventure of the Great Sorting will be complete. I probably ought to get dressed first. Now would be good. (waves)
Let's touch the guilt. There's a little voice squeaking away that's implying that I didn't post about it, not because it seems normal, now, but because I've been lazy about posting. No. That's not appropriate. Not for here. The rule for this blog is that it's here to help me, not to give me one more chore to do. If I don't feel like posting, I won't post. That's not being lazy, that's using the blog the way I planned to use it.
Too bad, little voice. You lose.
But let me think for a minute about what it took to make this last donation. Usually, a donation means I've sorted through a box or drawer or shelf and pulled out things no longer needed. They stay in a box or on a shelf near the front door until there are enough things to take to the van. If there's enough right after the sort, they're supposed to go to the van the next time I go out the door.
I allow things to stay in the van for up to a week before I allow myself to feel guilty about it. It saves gas if I drop off a donation while I'm driving nearby on another errand, so I tell myself I'm doing that. Occasionally I'll make a single run right away, but that's only if I feel like giving myself a little boost of accomplishment.
This load was in the van for two or three days. Not bad. But before that, some of it was sitting in the back yard. Why was that? Because two or three weekends ago, I sorted through all of the things in the room off of the garage. The little voice isn't even trying to make me feel guilty about not having posted about that. Do you know why? Because I completely sorted the room off the garage, which was an annoying mess, and however I may have dropped the ball afterwards, it was a big thing and doing a big thing is not lazy.
I know what's out there, now, and which plastic bins have which things in them. Most of it isn't mine, but I still sorted it. I convinced someone else to part with three or four boxes worth of stuff. That's a major thing for me. I have a real reluctance to poke at other people.
Half of it was tossed and half of it was set aside for donation. There were also nearly a dozen cardboard boxes liberated, more than the recycling bin could hold. Next week should see the last of them gone. And some odd-shaped plastic bins were released to donation.
There wasn't much of my stuff in there, but I decided to donate two old sewing machines that belonged to relatives, and probably tossed a few things. It's been long enough that the details are fading. The sewing machines were a big thing to let go of. There's at least one relative who would be unhappy to think that they were no longer "in the family".
So there was a pile of cardboard boxes and plastic donatables in the back yard for a couple of weeks. I can remember when things were put into the back yard temporarily and then stayed there for months. I'm a bit pleased that this particular set started to gall me by the next weekend and that I actually got them gone within two or three weeks because of that.
Another bright spot is that when it was obvious that I wasn't loading up whenever I noticed the stack and felt annoyed with it because I didn't want to do all that heavy lifting, I asked for help loading. Got it, too. With no complaints. I need to do that more often.
So there was a donation load delivered to the thrift store a few days ago. And it was the result of me asking for help. I asked for help because I was staying on top of no letting things just sit in the back yard. And the stuff was sitting in the back yard because I HAD TOTALLY CLEARED, SORTED, AND ORGANIZED THE ROOM OFF OF THE GARAGE!
OK. Now I can see that part of the reason the little voice was telling me that I was lazy with posting, here, is that it knew that I needed to acknowledge, not the load to the thrift store, but the bigger accomplishment behind it. Cool. Not bad, little voice.
And the trash and recycling got picked up yesterday, so if I go out back now and bin the last of the cardboard boxes, the adventure of the Great Sorting will be complete. I probably ought to get dressed first. Now would be good. (waves)
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Tossing a Few More Photos
I feel justified tossing inherited photos like this one.
This is Grandma L's front yard. The stump had sentimental value for her because it was made by a live Christmas tree that graced her front room when her kids were . . . well, I'm not sure how old they were, but they were all living with her. They had live Christmas trees two years in a row and planted them both in the front yard in a time before the street had sidewalks.
This is, I believe, the tree that wasn't planted with the pot. There were some casual mentions made about why one of the two trees was so much taller and bushier than the other. The short one had been stunted for several years until someone got curious enough to go digging and discovered that the poor thing was pot bound.
I don't mind keeping the story, but (sorry Grandma) I'm not keeping a picture of a sentimental stump. I've got lots of shots of people standing in front of the actual trees. That's enough to keep the story in mind.
OK, Grandma. You got me. If you stand one of my kids on the stump, I'll keep that picture. Well played.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Back From Vacation - Am I Feeling Guilty Yet?
I deplaned Sunday and went back to work yesterday. Finished reading ADD Friendly Ways to Organize Your Life on the plane. And only forgot to pack two things: my bathing suit and something else that I'm forgetting, now. Neither forgotten thing caused any trouble. So, on the whole, I'm not feeling very guilty. Just a little guilty for being a bit behind at work due to the vacation. The vacation was rejuvinating, though, and no one at work has been put out, so if I think about it, the guilt goes away.
Oh, I could feel guilty about putting the plane ticket on the charge card, but I've had much larger balances in the past and I know that this one won't last long. Also, I went to bed at a decent hour last night, which ADD FWOYL strongly recommends. So yay, me.
I'm trying something from ADD FWOYL called a stubby list. That's a to do list with from 3 to 5 things on it, each of them meant to be done today. You write it on a large post-it or, since I don't have those, on a small, portable tablet. You write the few items in big letters, at least half an inch tall. You carry it around. I crossed off two things, yesterday. Hang on a sec . . .
. . . OK. That was one more. Might hit the rest before I leave for work this morning. You never can tell. And three is enough to make me happy.
I'm testing some scents from ZOMG Smells. [BTW, want a cool picture of a trio of Brachiosaurs?] You can buy a selection of ten testers for not very much and go exploring. It fits in the guilt blog because there is a scent from my teenhood that intrigued me and that I've never been able to identify or find. It was the background scent at a shop in Ports O' Call, back in the early seventies. It was musky and . . . thought provoking. So I ordered ten of their squees (squee is their name for a tester sample) with a musk in them. We'll see what happens.
One of my problems with ADD is getting stuck. Having something that I want to do or need to do, but just not being able to take the next step. And then having the task age. And age. Knocking loose a task from so long ago if very energizing.
So far I've tried The Chieftain's Wife: " — the feminine side of pillaging and dominion. Royal jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, dusty musk." It's close to the scent I remember in some ways, but it's a lot lighter. Let's see. Should I try Wait Until Evening? "A dark, funky, musky blend of patchouli, myrrh, red ginger, spikenard and blackstrap molasses." That sounds promising.
Hmm. Sharper than the target scent. Definitely interesting, though.
I think for my next post I'll list the old family things that are hanging. You know, pictures, letters, home movies, etc. I was thinking about doing that in this post, but now that I think of it, it's going to take some time and thought. And some stacking and counting. So, not this morning.
Oh, I could feel guilty about putting the plane ticket on the charge card, but I've had much larger balances in the past and I know that this one won't last long. Also, I went to bed at a decent hour last night, which ADD FWOYL strongly recommends. So yay, me.
I'm trying something from ADD FWOYL called a stubby list. That's a to do list with from 3 to 5 things on it, each of them meant to be done today. You write it on a large post-it or, since I don't have those, on a small, portable tablet. You write the few items in big letters, at least half an inch tall. You carry it around. I crossed off two things, yesterday. Hang on a sec . . .
. . . OK. That was one more. Might hit the rest before I leave for work this morning. You never can tell. And three is enough to make me happy.
I'm testing some scents from ZOMG Smells. [BTW, want a cool picture of a trio of Brachiosaurs?] You can buy a selection of ten testers for not very much and go exploring. It fits in the guilt blog because there is a scent from my teenhood that intrigued me and that I've never been able to identify or find. It was the background scent at a shop in Ports O' Call, back in the early seventies. It was musky and . . . thought provoking. So I ordered ten of their squees (squee is their name for a tester sample) with a musk in them. We'll see what happens.
One of my problems with ADD is getting stuck. Having something that I want to do or need to do, but just not being able to take the next step. And then having the task age. And age. Knocking loose a task from so long ago if very energizing.
So far I've tried The Chieftain's Wife: " — the feminine side of pillaging and dominion. Royal jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, dusty musk." It's close to the scent I remember in some ways, but it's a lot lighter. Let's see. Should I try Wait Until Evening? "A dark, funky, musky blend of patchouli, myrrh, red ginger, spikenard and blackstrap molasses." That sounds promising.
Hmm. Sharper than the target scent. Definitely interesting, though.
I think for my next post I'll list the old family things that are hanging. You know, pictures, letters, home movies, etc. I was thinking about doing that in this post, but now that I think of it, it's going to take some time and thought. And some stacking and counting. So, not this morning.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
If You Love Your Children LABEL YOUR PHOTOS!!!
I Have sorted, scanned, and labeled photos - an indeterminate trickle of them. I tossed a couple dozen duplicates. I have also filled in several slots on the family tree from notes on the back. I enjoyed that.
In line with the title of this post, I've also found many more photos that are unlabeled and unidentified. They were added to the folder labeled "Who the Hell Are These People?" I may have to visit relatives to see if someone else can place a name to some of them. Oh, the horror!
And speaking of horror,
I've decided that this photo went unlabeled due to the enduring shame of a recurrance of toddler cannibalism in the gene line. The horror, I say!
In line with the title of this post, I've also found many more photos that are unlabeled and unidentified. They were added to the folder labeled "Who the Hell Are These People?" I may have to visit relatives to see if someone else can place a name to some of them. Oh, the horror!
And speaking of horror,
I've decided that this photo went unlabeled due to the enduring shame of a recurrance of toddler cannibalism in the gene line. The horror, I say!
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