Pom Pom Girl

 I absolutely loved growing up in my hometown of Friendly, Maryland. I lived on Old Allentown Road, the road to take if you were going any place important. It took me upon my bicycle each morning to Friendly Sr. High School, home of the best football team in the county, The Patriots. We were the Bicentennial Class of 76, our school colors; red, white, and blue.

Fridays in the fall were my very favorite days at school when we would be dismissed early to attend home games. I loved everything about Fridays from buying my ticket at lunch to sitting in the stands as close to the Pep Squad as I could. I wanted so badly to join, but this was the last chance group, and I did not want to be a last chance girl.

 I would look longingly at the uniforms of the Pom Pom Girls. These were the most popular and attractive girls in school. They wore short navy blue sleeveless shifts, white short boots with red tassels, and carried over sized red pom poms. They were the Size 5 girls.

There were also the cheerleaders, the band, and leading everyone, our Majorette, Bonnie. She had the straightest, most beautiful honey-colored hair that hung below her waist. She had such a beautiful face. Bonnie was also very heavy through her waist. At each football game she would lead the band in her red sequined costume not at all bothered by her rather egg shaped body and skinny legs. She was a magnificent twirler never missing her high toss. She smiled so beautifully despite taunts from the boys in the crowd about her shape.

Watching Bonnie on Fridays changed my life. If she could be confident enough to present herself in front of an entire school in a leotard, I could muster the courage to join the Pep Squad. I signed the join-up sheet and wrote Size 11 by my name. This was the group for size 11's. Our uniform was a twisty twirl red skirt to the knees, a navy blue sleeveless vest, a white button down shirt, white knee socks, and saddle shoes.

 
I was never so happy than on Fridays. Our school won the State Championship, I was there in my uniform. I thank Bonnie for this.

WISHING YOU A VERY HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!

Snowbirds

It was a revelation to me when I married and moved to northern Michigan that many of the older population traveled south to Florida for the winter. This did not occur in the state I called home where we waited for the summer months to travel to the ocean's shore.

I was soon to find out that my husband's own Uncle Roy and Aunt Dorothy traveled to Florida every single winter. Uncle Roy considered himself an aficionado of Traveling South in the newest mode of trailer park transportation available.

We were invited to their home for a walk-thru of their brand new fifth-wheel camper. I had never in my life seen anything quite so large that was legally allowed to be driven by non-professionals. Uncle Roy assured me his many years as the owner of Denoyer Bros. Moving & Storage did in fact make him overly qualified to drive this "rig" safely south. My new mother and father-in-law would be accompanying them. A pleasant time was expected by all.

I absolutely giggle to think of the many times my father-in-law would regale me about this transport to Florida alongside his sister's irascible husband. It seems Roy became possessed once behind the wheel of this overlong camper.

He was insistent upon "making good time" and would rarely stop for "necessary" reasons. His over-the-road days had given him the ability to "wait" for ten hour stretches at a time. If the tank didn't need fill'n, his didn't need empty'n! At this point in the story, my father-in-law would lean in close to whisper in my ear, "That Roy was a sun of a gun!"

My mother-in-law Ruth always chimed in at this point to finish the tale. "Do you know we never did get to sleep in their new camper. Roy unhitched that monstrosity, got back in the truck's cab, and drove us all the way back to Michigan. And he nearly never stopped for necessary reasons!

How I do love Florida! I love Pink Flamingo's as well and have made them into trinket boxes on several occasions. I enlarged the pattern pieces to fit my larger box.

Here the pink purveyor of all that is cute uses the original pattern. I used wire to thread tiny seed pearls and inserted them into the gusset of the body. I wrapped a pipe cleaner stem with felt to create a neck in both cases and slipped it between the pieces as I stitched along.

A Place to Be for pink buttons! The body, neck, and head are all one piece here. Hmmmm! I see I need to make a correction to my Flamingo's beak. Oh well!

For the Love of Fla.

Oh My Goodness! Doesn't every craft room need a little bit of Florida? The answer is "yes" if you love this peninsula shaped state as much as I do.

I have loved the State of Florida since I was old enough to hang over the backseat of my family's car and play "Name that State" with my father as we drove to and from church each Sunday morning.

"What state has alligators?", "FLORIDA", "Which state grows oranges?", "FLORIDA"! On would go the game until my father could not stand another moment of my brother and I arguing over who had yelled, "I know!" first.

My brother and I were obsessed with eating oranges in our childhood, I know, because of this game and our fascination with such a place where our favorite fruit could possibly grow in your own back yard and be picked anytime you were so moved to do so.

When I was dating my soon to be husband, I was thrilled to pieces that my parents let me vacation with him to the Sunshine State. Although our destination was to the newly opened Disney World, I cared more about glimpsing my first orange tree.

Upon crossing the official state line, we stopped at a Visitor's Welcoming Center. It was love at first sight to be greeted by the most adorable orange bird offering us a taste of Florida's orange juice in tiny little paper cups.

Relatives and friends who know that my husband has traveled the world, will ask me where it is that I would like to visit. I always smile and answer just as enthusiastically as I have all of my life, "FLORIDA"!

CRAFT NOTES

Truly, this is such an easy craft room character to make. I have attached the eyes to the head piece by running my needle and thread between the layers of felt fibers to hide them. The top beak is then button stitched in place, the bottom beak (cut slightly smaller) is stitched slightly beneath the upper beak. TIP:
Tacky Glue is then mixed with drops of water until it is the consistency of milk. I use my fingertip to wet both sides of the felt shaping it as I go. (Don't worry about fibers that will come lose. I trim them when the felt has dried completely hard). I used this same process with the head leaves. The arm leaves; however, have a thin piece of cardboard cut slightly smaller than the pattern piece and slipped inside before the last stitches are taken. I then bent the leaf to shape and attached along one side only by matching the existing stitches. (Note: the pattern includes optional wings.) The legs for this little bird are made by twisting one orange pipe cleaner stem around two yellow ones, snip length in half, insert into side seam of bottom where slits have been made with pointy scissors. The tail feathers are not sewed, but slipped into a slit made as well. TOO CUTE!

Perfectly Perfect!

SIGH! I can't tell you how many times I have stopped in to visit Renee of My Vintage Mending and lingered over the Cute as Can Be fabric creations adorning her adorable craft room. I absolutely fell in love with her vintage clothespin bag with it's rick rack and ruffles perfectly, perfect.

Vintage fabrics purchased on my day trip to Clintonville, I could not wait until the end of my work day to try my own hand at making Renee's bag.

In my "real" life I work with individuals who have disabilities and struggle with achieving the expected "perfect" standards of their employers. Sometimes long held jobs are on the line, the loss of employment a loss of identity.

I work to identify the most efficient way to perform a task and then come up with a strategy to teach the individual to perform their job correctly. Over and over, the same verbal prompts are used, the same actions taken. Days and then weeks can go by, success seemingly eminent only to discover in the remaining moments the individual reverting to their old ways.

I found myself in this position yesterday. My client's head bowed in frustration, my words firm in their tone, all of our hard work making not an inch of difference. It was time to give up, time to go home.

As I sat in my car, my door not yet closed, I happened to notice the yellow parking line. I looked out my windshield at all the yellow parking lines, and a revelation occurred to me.

My client who needed to collect carts correctly or loose his long held job was unable to connect with my repetitive pattern and verbal prompts, "From the Outside to the Inside"; but he was able to understand, "From the End Zone to the Goal Line." Through his familiarity and passion for football, he was able to visualize his job correctly by thinking of the yellow parking lines as yardage to cover. He was able to collect the carts correctly over and over again.

For the life of me, I could not figure out last night how to attach the ruffled back I had made to my clothespin front. I was so disappointed after having stitched such a cute front that my bag was hopelessly ruined.

And then I thought about the young man I had worked with earlier in the day, and how I had stood near the entrance of the store and watched him making hand motions in the distance making sense of my new directions and coming towards me having collected the carts not perfectly but in a way that will do just fine.

I took what was left of my little bag and returned to what is familiar to me. A very simple felt backing not perfectly, perfect but that will do just fine.

My day with my client ended with a big hug and the broadest of smiles. My perfectionism set aside, a lesson learned.  Thank you Renee for all that you share!www.myvintagemending.blogspot.com

Anywhere, USA

Truly, if I could choose to live anywhere in the Heart of Ohio, it would be on the shaded streets of Clintonville where each home is more charming than the next.

Called a "Streetcar Neighborhood" because it's residents could ride into downtown Columbus to their places of work, Clintonville was the city's first suburb.

Most of the homes were built in the 1930's from Sears and Montgomery Wards kits. This fact makes these homes premium in price. Thank goodness it doesn't cost anything to look!

My husband gets so perturbed with me when I loose myself in these "side trips" after work. I will say to him over the phone, "But this house has a driveway arch just like the one in "The Long, Long Trailer"! He knows if I invoke my very favorite vintage movie, there is no point in arguing further.

Just look at the airing porch built over this driveway! It's just too cute for words. As automobiles became more popular, you can just imagine the husband saying, "We need to add a garage." and the wife saying, "Well since you're building a garage ...." I simply love this house!

I stopped my car at this baby blue beauty to admire the rose trellis and tell the woman tending them that I so enjoyed her neighborhood. She thanked me and told me I was most welcome.

Sigh! Even the street names are wonderful. Arcadia Avenue and Foster Lane.

And just to assure you that I did not waste gas needlessly, I stopped in at the quilt store which happens to be in Clintonville! Never was there a more perfect day to come home with 1930's inspired fabric. I am definitely "In the Mood" to begin a new project.

Newlyweds and Mothers

My sweet Twirly Swirl Girl and Joe have now celebrated their six month anniversary.  That they have barely known each other a year makes this milestone one measured carefully by mothers wanting the best for their own offspring.

You can tell by our postures when we are together that each of us is ready to defend the twenty something years our children have lived on this earth that we have been responsible for. We each know that we have been good mothers.

We have now hosted each others families in our home, a measuring by our own standards spoken of to our husbands on the long drive that separates our homes.

Our differences in beliefs will always keep us at arms length, but on one very important detail it seems we will be a united front. Both of our children have stepped out of the light of the tenants of religion. Both do not share the beliefs of their parents. Both mothers are waiting for them to hear the call of God.

We both agree that it can not have been by accident that our two children should have found each other. Each mother hoping for someone who would draw their own child back towards God. Each with children convinced of their own convictions.

With two mothers sending the same prayers to Heaven before they close their eyes, there can only be a happy ending for newlyweds, Joe and Kellye.