Roy Rogers

When my mother became a widow, she no longer cooked meals for herself. She took to spending her afternoons in a favorite chosen booth, window side at Roy Rogers. There she would pass her time reading, doing cross word puzzles, and drawing near to her anyone who liked conversation with their coffee.

My mother soon became a "Regular" along with other Regulars who also had their favorite booths and spent their afternoons window side. The Regulars all knew each other by name, their life's story, and their most pressing ailment of the day.

My mother spent so much time at Roy Rogers, that if I needed to speak to her during the day, I would call the restaurant and ask for her by name.  She was loved by the employees for her willingness to listen to their problems and give advice when needed.

One afternoon she noticed an older gentleman in a windbreaker, a ball cap on his head, tray of food in his hands, looking for a window spot to sit. My mother asked if he would like to join her. Comfortable right away, the gentleman expressed that he was in the area to visit his sister and did she know of anyone who taught art as his sister had expressed an interest in taking lessons. My mother told him she taught a seniors group art lessons and would be happy to include his sister. Information was exchanged, the man was so grateful.

My mother asked if the gentleman would sign her tray liner to give to her grandson Christopher. The man asked, "How did you know it was me?"

My mother replied, "You may look like a truck driver, but they don't usually wear Rolex watches!"

My mother may have been a Regular, but she lived an extraordinary life!

Mega Who?

If you have followed my stories for quite a time, you know that my brother John is a proverbial Huckleberry Finn. Adventure and mischief seem to cloak him as comfortably as silt on the bottom of the mighty Mississippi. Who could ever have guessed that as the nation held it's breath waiting for the winner of the Mega Millions to be revealed, a voice from my brother's past would provide an ending to a story.

Deeana was just the type of girl my brother was crazy about; long dark hair and deep brown eyes, a Spanish beauty whose R's rolled attractively. My brother, in his mid-twenties was lean from summers lifeguarding and as dark of skin as she was. She thought he was Spanish as well. An immediate attraction that soon found the pair sharing an apartment together.

For my brother who has the wanderlust heart of a Gypsy, this was a step toward domestication I thought I would never live to see. I was invited with my family to meet Deeana and her large family. We fell in love with them all.

I will forever remember the weekend spent in John and Deeana's beautiful apartment whose walls were hung with my brother's beautiful art. My brother pulled me aside to tell me he planned to ask Deeana to be his wife. I would return to Ohio filled with such joyful expectation for my brother's future. A telephone call with bad news left heartache in it's wake. It seemed Deeana turned down his proposal. It seemed she wanted more. It seemed she had met someone with very deep pockets. A school teacher's salary was just not enough. John would not hear from Deeana for more than a dozen years.

With the Mega Millions payout reaching dizzying heights, John and his lifelong childhood friend Greg purchased two hundred tickets at a 7-Eleven in  Maryland. The very store where the winning ticket was purchased. As the news would report, it seemed there was controversy regarding a McDonald's worker who claimed she held the winning ticket. This was not the case. She was not the winner. A call from the past, a voice with rolling R's.

"John! It's Deeana! I heard on the news the unidentified winner of the Mega Millions is a teacher who says he will use his winnings to return to Italy to finish studying art. It's you John, isn't it!!!!"

My brother replied, "Shhhhh! I haven't even told my sister yet. Don't say a word about this to anyone." Deeana quickly asked, "Can we get together to celebrate?" My brother said yes, the next day.

My brother called Deeana the next day before the time they were to meet. "Deeana, the worker at McDonald's isn't the only one who didn't tell the truth. I didn't win the Mega Millions, I'm still a school teacher who is so glad I wasn't worth enough for you to marry all those years ago."

"I'm too sexy for my shirt..."

Young, single male pilots are a breed of men unto themselves. When they gather together they speak in acronyms that close by female listeners are unable to understand but are drawn closer as though lured.  The pilots stand tall to square the golden epaulets on their shirts and flash their boyish smiles that are brighter than the starry skies they cross.

My dear sweet husband has witnessed the dance of the young pilots for more than twenty years now. Nearing retirement as a flight attendant, his habit is to have a glass of wine in the hotel and retire to his room to slip between the covers to sleep. But on a recent trip to Milan, Italy, it seems his own shirt was to sexy to resist.

A late night arrival, lobby waiting, a group of ten young women gathered to ascend in the elevator. Legs up to here and hair down to there, they could only be the young pilots' counterpart - MODELS.  "Too bad they aren't headed for the hotel bar." was the sad comiseration among the young men. The Hard Rock Cafe instead beckoned from down the street, "Do you want to join us Pat?" "No guys, a glass of wine for me and I'm off to bed."

A table for one, a glass of wine, my husband found himself to be the only patron of the hotel's bar. A commotion heard coming, my husband couldn't believe his eyes to see the group of beautiful young models coming into the bar. Laughter growing louder, music overhead, one of the models approached my husband and said, "Sir, if we are too loud for you, please let us know." She returned to her friends leaving the distinguished older gentleman to himself.

Soon two young men who had entered the hotel's bar with the models, ordered Champaign. Toasts are made, one young man approaches my husband with a glass. "Again I apologize for the noise so late at night.We have just arrived from the showings in London. These are the models for Gucci. In fact, the woman who approached you earlier is their top model, Natalia Vodianova. Why are you here sir so late at night?"

My husband replied, "I've just flown in with Victoria's Secret." The young man's eyes grew incredibly wide. He called out above the laughter and music to the models, "He's with Victoria's Secret!"

Within moments my husband found himself surrounded by the beautiful young women all wanting to take their picture with him and get his autograph! It most likely was the language barrier, but for this one moment...

my husband was "much too sexy for his shirt!"

Rodeo Girls

Who doesn't love the images of Western ware from the 1950's. I would have loved to be able to wear an outfit as cute as these little cowgirls are wearing.

Pipe Cleaner Dolls are much smaller than Peg Dolls, but oh my gosh are they ever cute in person. Prepainted heads can be found at Michaels and are also smaller than peg doll heads. BODY: A pipe cleaner cut in half and then bent in half is just the right proportion for the body and legs.

SHIRT: Wrap a length of stem around a pencil six times, cut with craft wire cutters. Body is slipped over feet. ARMS: Length of stem from remaining body piece is slipped through coils of shirt. SLEEVES: Wrap length of stem around arm until desired length. HANDS: Bend end of arm stem.

CLOTHES: When making clothes for Pipe Cleaner Dolls, the pieces are so small, a pattern is too difficult to use. I hand cut from felt strips 1" wide and 7/8" wide as a start and trimmed smaller as I fitted the pieces to doll. STITCHING: 2 ply floss, outline stitch through top layer of felt only. ASSEMBLY: Hot glue in place.

BOOTS: Small rectangle with triangle shape in center; small slits made on each side of triangle. ASSEMBLY: Hot Glue triangle shape to "foot" of leg stem. Wrap sides around stem, hot glue in place on back. OPTIONAL: Bottom of boot: hot glue bottom of boot to scrap piece of felt, trim to boot shape. NOTE: if using doll for a trinket box, step not necessary.

HAIR: Rectangle of felt is cut three inches wide and then into thin, even sized strips. Beading needles and one ply floss is woven back and forth through felt strip; a knot in thread is not necessary. Repeat several times to secure felt ribbon. Sixteen strips are needed for Pipe Cleaner Doll's head.

HAT: Also hand cut pieces of felt as shown.  ASSEMBLY: Tacky Glue is used to form felt hat. FRINGE: Length of crepe paper streamer is folded on itself (enough to circle hat). Cut streamer down center lengthwise, layer all cut pieces together, fold in half lengthwise, use a sewing needle and running stitch along folded edge to secure layers together. Make small slits along open edge of crepe entire length. ASSEMBLY: Hot Glue folded edge of fringe to hat edge. Separate fringe with fingers. Hot Glue to head. (Note: top of dolls head does not have hair.)

"Door" to Door Salesman

 

Imagine my delight in discovering my mother-in-law's brother was a Door to Door screen door salesman in early 1950's California.My sister-in-laws all gave me a "So?" look as I squealed at each photograph seen.

 

They now know if I say, "It's a Blog Thing." I'm talking about CUTE and the women who enjoy CUTE. Can you imagine the stares traveling from door to door? Pun intended! These are Ruth's nephews.

Holy Cowboy Hat! "It's a Blog Thing for sure!"

A photograph taking before saying farewell. A cuter family there just never could be.

"EAK! It seems Ruth was holding back on me! Just look at this brochure from vacation taken with her high school friends.



Ruth was a Keeper of Memories, and so am I. Memories like these last more than one lifetime.

Pink Saturday Rodeo!

I truly am having fun with my Rodeo Days Theme! My craft room is becoming so cute, my husband will hear me from the lower floor calling out, "It is just so darn cute in here!" every time I enter.

I have always loved the romanticized and corny version of cowgirls as personified by Dale Evans. She was a woman of deep faith. Her devotion to her husband Roy just melts my heart.


I hope you have read my story about my mother befriending Roy Rogers in of all places, Roy Rogers Restaurant, and becoming his sister's art teacher.


Only MY MOTHER would ask him to sign her used tray liner for her grandson!


My little cowgirl is hanging on tight to her Western paper dolls.



I know! How cute is our real cowgirl, our oldest daughter.


My Rodeo Days are coming along nicely, but I think I need to make more Jenny B. stars! FELT! Where is my felt?


Much better! Jenny's star pattern can be found on her blog Allsorts.