On Don"t Be Cruel Lane

Arrived Graceland about 6:00PM last night and pulled into our rig spot on Don"t Be Cruel Lane.  Liquid sunshine began last night and is to continue all day, so although we are  walking distance to Graceland from here in the RV park, we'll likely drive the HHR.  We have been blessed with decent weather, while to the northwest snow strikes  Denver and Omaha and southwest to Texas and even Alexandria, LA where we  will eventually be  has deluging flooding rains.  We had only some fog yesterday AM which we drove out of in  less than 15 minutes. 

We ate in last night, getting set up for the next three days and having plenty of food along to avoid having to venture around in the dark, although we spotted a KFC right outside the gate.  The advantage of RV motor home travel is we have all the comforts of home, including a good glass of wine for me and a beer for Jerry at our finger tips. And though  I complain about loading up, I sure appreciate having it all here when we stop.

Many 5th wheels and trailers here too, a phenomena we have seen elsewhere in the country--the industrious young (and not so young) men and  families who are industrious construction workers travel to the work while those who are content to squat and collect never ending  unemployment welfare checks do so. 

I know we are in the south, because yesterday I purchased what I thought was an apple fritter but when I bit into it back in the motor home, it was pink inside, with flecks of cherry.  Certainly a different fritter to me and I wonder if it is to honor Valentines Day, or breast cancer pink? 

We had a good two day drive and except for a loose mudflap on the rig which Jerry fixed yesterday morning in the Wal Mart lot before we departed and the hour wasted at the Alorton,IL Flying J where the diesel pumps were not working, we had a good  drive.  I felt much sympathy for the Flying J attendant, running all about in and out, to the trucks at the diesel pumps and the motor coaches at the RV diesel pumps trying to fix what he could not.  Maybe the diesel pumps were all in cahoots in a protest movement?  Occupier pumps, now there's a thought to boggle the mind.  The attendant told us to go over to the  trucker lanes, so we did but after two more non-working pump nozzles, Jerry decided it was time to go.  We had been fortunate to have diesel in the tank and with another  20.2 gallons purchased before the Occupier pumps took over, we could make it.  An inconvenience for us with a waste of an hour that could have been spent on the highway, but the  big rig truckers were stuck.  And their faces showed their disgust.  Pity the attendants, who scurry beyond their minimum wage pay grade and courteously handle the scowls and worse, yet one example of how unreasonable customers can take their anger out on the person who is trying to help them.  Frustrating, yes, but a reason to be cruel, not.  We continued on to Mathews, MO Flying J and  filled up though we could have made it easily to Memphis.

In two days we've driven  816 miles in 14 hours drive time, 15 1/2 hours total time' purchased 107.9 gallons of diesel for $402 and only $2.85 tolls in a small stretch of highway through IL.  Along the road, I tallied last years journeys from when we purchased this motor home in Tucson and brought it home--in 2011 we logged 9600 miles.   

Photos later today as we enjoy Graceland where we are headed for brunch right now.

On the road tomorrow

Graceland RV

Finally we are heading south....I was not at all that enthused about leaving because it has been an easy nice winter with only occasional white snow dusting and I really have projects up the ying yang to keep myself more than busy... Still Jerry planned on  a trip, recalling that at times I am prone to remind him that I did not sign up to live in winter wonderland and that when we moved here it was our stated intention to head for warmer  climates in winter.  Life being as it has been the last  several years we haven't done the snowbird routine, but this year, Jerry has had  hitch itch--wants to get behind the wheel of the diesel and go  that along with his wanting to alleviate a later taunt by someone like me "You said we'd leave for winter..."  Would I really whine like that?  I admit, guilty as suspected. 

So we are on our way via St Louis area, where maybe we can check in with Earl and Ed, longtime rosarian friends  from CA who now live in Collinsville.  Oh how Earl tormented me when I announced that we were moving to Minnesota when I retired,  I can still hear him, "What!   You will freeze and what about your roses....!"  It was after we moved in 2005 that guess who sold out from San Francisco and headed home to Collinsville, another California deserter heading home....We've been to their place  and I reminded him. "Who said we can't leave CA?"  They have been quite happy back in the Midwest, better life quality and Earl's hometown.  But Earl has been ill, and so we are curious how he's doing.

Then just last night I figured that if we were spending the weekend and through Monday in Memphis, we could just as well park our rig at Graceland!  And well, Elvis!  Now I'm all shook up.....ummm  huhh...hmm..  yeah yea.....Graceland has been on my bucket list so this makes space for another list item....When I discovered the RV park, well what a deal!  "  Located within walking distance of Graceland, Elvis Presley’s home, Memphis-Graceland RV Park & Campground is a haven of relaxation you're not likely to forget anytime soon.   The Memphis-Graceland RV Park & Campground is located on 19 acres just off Elvis Presley Boulevard behind Elvis Presley’s Heartbreak Hotel and conveniently located across the street from Elvis Presley's Graceland. "

This looks promising, better than the RV parks last trip to North Carolina.....We have many friends to see and many places of interest....as usual I am never  as ready as I should be....so it will not be a very early AM start tomorrow...there are some things yet to go in the motor home, like my 3 bottles of wine. That is an essential for me.   I ponder after a day of hustling and loading  if I will ever just leave without  taking so much along and preparing.  Throw caution to the winds and shop for what I want...but I am conservative with the $$ and hate to buy what I have at the house and could take along, so I doubt it.  Besides, after all, I am Rose's grand daughter and I remember our train trips from PA to Milwaukie,WI; a basket of food with us.  Shopping is easy, but Jerry likes to hit the road and go....and since I never know for sure what munchies I'll want, I go well prepared.  Just so we don't take all that  food for a ride....loading and unloading it, not a good thing.     The RV travelin" bears,  Blondie, Cinnamon and Louie are ready to go, they have permanent residence in the motor home:

Beignets

 
 
So tomorrow off we go...Louie, the eldest bear was born in Louisiana in 2004, a gift from Mary Ann for my  Birthday.  He's anxious to get  back home for a spell and like me, looking forward to a begniet at Cafe du Monde in New Orleans... It is an original French Market Coffee Stand "World famous for its cafe' au lait, beignets, and the opportunity to people watch."   I am salivating just looking at the photo of a plate of Beignets....
 
I will post as I can during free time, but then again......

Sepia Saturday 110 Movie Theaters and how we were



About 1954 me and my Grandma
ready to go to the movies

 A challenge this week with Theater as our theme, but I think back to growing up in New Kensingon, PA in it's glory days when we had 3 movie theaters in a town that is all ashambles to the dregs today. Stroll along my memories with me to back before televisions became  a standard home furnishing, many Sundays, after mass and family dinner, from as early as I can remember, my grandmother,  Rose and I went to the matinee movies downtown and would stop for a big ice cream cone on our way home.  She enjoyed her movie theaters which she always referred to as just that, "movie theaters".  Some Sundays we'd  catch  two, a musical or drama  for her and cowboys and Indians  in technicolor for me.

Baba which I called her all my life, from the Polish word for Grandmother, made her money for our day out and about by playing the numbers at the local bookie who took bets at the butcher shop.  She was quite lucky most times and kept her stash for our treats, saying that was for us to have fun.  I spent lots of my time at their house and each morning when I awoke she'd ask me about my dreams and then get a small black book from the cupboard drawer.  I learned years later from her that was her Dream Book which translated the subject of dreams into numbers and those were the bets she placed,  always winning when she played Patty's dreams.  How I wish I knew what became of that book, imagine if  today I could use it for the lottery.

 I  learned that the reason we could afford two movies was we frequently got in free at the Liberty where her brother Bill worked as a projectionist, when movies came on the big reels.  I have shared photos of Bill before, here's a newspaper clipping she  saved of the  man at work.  Notice the name Walter Austin, somehow Bill came from Walter and he'd changed the  Polish Ostroski aka Ostrowski to Austin, generating much  fuss and disdain from his sisters.   But today's theater theme  showed photos of the buildings and I  had to dig and  search to find any photographs of the big time days in New Kensington when we had the Liberty, the Dattola, the Circle and the Ritz theaters.  I was amazed to find a Library of Congress photo of our own old Liberty theater which was demolished.   These movie theaters were grand seating from 700 to 1000 with more balcony seating, plush carpets, draperies, gilded to the max.  Wish I had photos of the insides, they sure don't make 'em like that anymore.  Todays movie theaters  use a sardine pack seating system,  superior technology does not make up for lack of grandeur and class. 

Downstairs  where I watch movies today
Back of my recliner looking toward the big screen

Today, I wait for DVD's and the latest Netflix offerings and take my self downstairs to our own big screen, surround sound put my feet up in the recliner and enjoy the movies, I often think how Baba would have loved this.   

A Westmoreland county historical site shows  that:  On May 2, 1921, the first of the new theaters, the Liberty Theater (demolished 1996) opened on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Eighth Street and the Ritz Theater (958 Fifth Avenue) opened the next year.


The Liberty courtesy of the Library of Congress



Dowtown  Fifth Avenue as it looked when we walked to the movies
The old Liberty  is on the left

From a historic website the Dattola theater



The Dattola movie Theater on the other end of Fifth Avenue
Photo from 1969 coverage in the Valley Dispatch,
taken sometime in the  1960's.



The newspaper article tells the sad tale of the Dattola.

I have no photos of the Circle nor the Ritz.  At one time they had both become bingo halls and today that is likely gone as well.  Will New Kensington ever  be revivied to it's glory days when  we grew up in the  50's and 60's.  Who knows

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Dolls for Sepia Saturday 109



About 1947 me with doll



Our prompt this week is Dolls which should be easy for me because I was the oh so very typical little girl with dolls, dolls, dolls.  Being from the sheltered good old days, times of  years ago, in a small town in Pennsylvania, I enjoyed my dolls a long time, and had them across my bed into my teen years.  But I have few photos of me with my dolls, as you can see I was not a very careful mama here....

I took a doll or two with me everywhere I went which was not that far in that town,  mostly down the hill to my grandparents. I had another stash of dolls at their house as well as dolls at home....someone (likely my aunt Jinx who was a working bachelorette for many years, living with her parents)  decided that it would be easier for all concerned that I keep dolls at their house where I spent most of my time anyway.  This decision came likely after I was walking in the rain with my grandma and dropped one of my dolls, soaking  her and generating my tears and fussing.  Shortly after that, my Granpap fashioned a miniature umbrella for my dollies, wonder what ever became of that.  My dolls had an extensive wardrobe made by my grandmother and aunt and even myself, who learned to sew early and had my own miniature sewing machine, something else I wish I had today.



About 1949 me and my talking doll, Marcella
I  still have this doll today



These next photos show me at my grandparents' with dolls; I am guessing the years because they were not marked on the photos..



About 1950 with  2 dolls, the one on the
left survived from a few years





Prize bride doll today
original dres, shoes and a
green plastic  trim I  glued on her veil  to the consternation of
my aunt.



Still today I have two of my most cherished dolls, Marcella, a  talking doll who still utters a few words, "pick me up"  and my  prize bride doll acquired from a tantrum I demonstrated in the  former GCMurphy Five and Ten Store while shopping  with my aunt Jinx when  I was about 9 years old.. I spotted this bride doll and had to have her; while my aunt tried to reason with me to wait until my birthday, I was not to be dissuaded and she could not bear my pout or worse so she bought her on the spot.  The first time my aunt Jinx met Jerry, husband, she told  that story of when she was forced to buy me that bride doll as an example of how far back (and thereby well ingrained) my stubbornness and determination could be, this was to warn him about my traits, and that I would pull out all stops to get my way as I was used to having it....but it was too late, he'd already experienced the same by then.  She talked about the bride doll until she died in 2009, so you know it was really a master tantrum and an example of how I could get my way as a child.  Such a shock to grow up and learn life doesn't work always the way we want, expect, demand...



Marcella today, talking doll..Like the bride doll all original dress & shoes



While scanning other photos I  found these of my cousin Paula Jean with her father and her own big dolly, across the country in California in about 1952. 

About 1952 Paul and Paula Jean

I don't ever recall having a doll bigger than me, but her mother, my aunt had written across the back, "I won this at the Carnival for her, it's bigger than her but she drags it all around."     Our family genes have determination embedded, here follows Paula with Big Dolly, "stay there," she seems to demand.  She will get a laugh when she sees these two photos, especially with the "babushka" on her head, no match for the Big Dolly's big hat!

Paula Jean positioning her Big Dolly

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How did I function in a professional career for 34+ years

I ask myself that question because tomorrow AM I should arise about 6:45AM for a medical, , appointment to which they request my presence 15 minutes ahead of the appointment time and to which I will be driving across the river, a mere 10 miles but nevertheless not just up the hill in our little town.  I groan because this means use of an alarm clock to awaken me before I am likely to be ready to depart the covers. I have become allergic to alarm clocks in retirement.   I"m ever so comfortable in getting up when I am good and ready, which is usually around 8:00AM when Jerry who has been  up for awhile returns to the bedroom to check in on me  inquiring if I intend to greet the day and grace the morning with my presence. I remind him that for  so many years I had a much earlier  wake up call than he did; he was just thinking of arising as I left.  This is now my turn so I have this phobia of arising before he has been up and around.   

It took me over a year into retirement to shake my habitual 4:30 AM risings endured for the commute all those years.  Gradually I phased  to sleeping mornings until 5:30, then 6:00 and finally 7:00.  But now for this  winter I have surpassed my own hopes and mastered an  8:00 sleep in.  But then why not, this is the beauty of this phase of life, I can operate on my own schedule not the alarm clocks.  


In a moment of unawareness I booked this appointment for 8:30 AM when it could have been much later in the day.  So here I am  in my  years of freedom from work and very resentful of anything that interferes and inflicts a wake up call on me , even when it is of my own making.  It makes me laugh, how did I do that for so long?  Well, I often found a dark seat on the commuter bus and slept the morning commute into downtown Sacramento, and I  used mass transit as much as I could, so preferable to sitting on those bumper to bumper California freeways. Today we live in an area with minimal traffic so that is not a concern, and most places are 10 to 15 minutes at most from my garage door to inside wherever I am going.  About the only complication can be the winter white weather, fluffy snow which has now returned to create a Minnesota winter wonderland.  Roads and highways are clear, but there is care to be taken.    


I found this blog link today in between computer "chores"  by a blogger who knows just what I'm talking about with retirement time and spurts and how life changes.... what caught my eye was the "Time Wasters"  tab http://marlisep.webs.com/


I also found a more opinionated, inspirational blog site suggesting what we ought and ought not to do in retirement,  way too ambitious  for me, but I do appreciate that someone went to the keyboard to solidify what I do automatically, like not spending my time with people I don't enjoy.   http://postworksavvy.com/2011/06/08/are-you-making-each-day-count-strategies-to-ensure-you-keep-growing/   


What I like most about retirement is the freedom to float along and not schedule myself hither an yon, not planning moment by moment but having float time.  Lollygagging, dabbling, I have almost perfected those arts.  Yes, I do have many hobbies and accomplish tasks, but when someone asks, "what are you going to do the rest of the day?" I am mostly mystified.  Huh? Did I miss something?  I worked all that time so that I could amble and even this attitude took a few years to adjust into.  But I have mastered it. 

I hate alarm clocks...

I spent six hours today at the computer on genealogy research, and scanning photos which I enjoy as well as financial analysis on our "investments" which is not quite so enjoyable but a necessity.  Of course I had the freedom to wander around and interrupt myself which I do readily.  I recall wishing I could "work at home" in my  p j's during career years telecommute the staff called it but  my profession/position  did not lend to that, nevertheless  I held that fantasy.  Well, now I can say it is  good thing I did not have that opportunity--it surely would not have worked for someone like me who can be easily distracted by herself.  And to think, I   closed my office door to minimize the bureaucratic interruptions between meetings and  more meetings back  then...Hmm.....life has changed, how did I not only function back then, but  function rather successfully which affords today's lifestyle  I  ponder, "how did I do that."  And another thing, "how did I even have time to work, because I seem to waste more time now than I could ever have dreamed of whiling away back in the day.....Truly I have overcome!


Well, so here I have done it again, sat at the keys and shared my thoughts with whoever happens by....what's your schedule these days,  like it  or not?     

Oh woe is me with this blog and Sepia Posts

Blogger is adjusting the unknown with it's codes and that has made a mess for me...so many of us got bothered this weekend by that, even the Sepia Site....but not to fear, if you wandered here from Sepia, scroll below this to  my feathered ladies...and if your comment does not get through, that's Blogger too.  Some (few) comments are reaching me.  I have not been able to access my comments here other than to publish them.  There is nothing as fascinating and frustrating as the blog world.  It's a good thing when it works and after these years to have a glitch is not too bad, I suppose, but  patience and acceptance do not come naturally to me.   

Ladies with Feather Hats Sepia Saturday 108 (Click Here to Sepia Site)



Ancestress of the hats

         Meet my  unknown ancestral ladies of the big  magnificent feather hats.  I have not been able to identify these women by name but the photo was with Rose's, my maternal grandmother's, small leather box of  family photos and I believe they have a limb somewhere in the Ostrowski (Ostroski) family tree.  They do not appear to be the simple immigrants from Poland nor the regular coal mining town relatives with hats like that; on the back someone wrote in pencil only, "Eastern girls"   How much farther east than Pennsylvania?  For a time I thought that the woman on the left could be Helen Sajikowski (Salkowski) my grandmother's step mother, third wife of her father, Frank.  After studying the  faces very closely I don't believe it is the same woman.  There is quite a bit of stunning detail on the dresses, seam work and  ornate fitted stitching.  The two appear  related.  But most of all, the hats are an untold  story, how heavy were they.  How straight did these women walk to carry a hat full of plumes atop their heads?  Where did they wear such headgear? 

So many questions and most of all who are they?  Did the photographer supply the hats to have their photo taken?  I know that happened in the earlier times when itinerant photographers supplied costumes for folks on the farms, hills,  small towns to adorn themselves. 

Here is a photo of Helen, my grandmother's step mother so you can compare; let me know what  you think.   Quite a lace collar that she sports atop her dress but no feathers,  nor hat.

"A hat is a flag, a shield, a bit of armor, and the badge of femininity. A hat is the difference between wearing clothes and wearing a costume; it's the difference between being dressed and being dressed up; it's the difference between looking adequate and looking your best. A hat is to be stylish in, to glow under, to flirt beneath, to make all others seem jealous over, and to make all men feel masculine about. A piece of magic is a hat." (Martha Sliter)

This last tidbit is from the Audubon Society Website:  At the turn of the last century, stylish women wore hats with the latest feather-topped design from Paris, New York, and other centers of fashion. Millinery houses in Europe and America traded internationally and indiscriminately for birds and bird feathers. The more exotic or unique the hat design and feather display, the larger the sales.   By the 1890s, women were wearing whole bodies of birds on hats and clothing. In 1886, noted ornithologist Frank Chapman counted 40 varieties of native birds, or bird parts, decorating three-fourths of the 700 ladies' hats that he had observed in New York City.

This has been my Sepia post for the week , click on the title to my post to visit the Sepia Saturday site, see Alan's feathery hat prompt for this week, visit other contributors in  our inernational community.  You will be tickled ....( sorry could not resist...)

Sepia Saturday 107 Year Post (Teofil and his dogs and pets)

About 1942 Teofil and his coon hounds

I can't match that  angora rabbit that Alan showcases this week, but I have some different pets, photos from the family archives.  In this family we have an animal;/pet loving gene, that goes at least as far back as my maternal grandfather, Teofil.  He was crazy about his dogs whether they were his coon hounds and hunting dogs which were carefully tended to outside or whether in later years domestic pets.  In this photo it was a Sunday so he was dressed up, notice the white shirt and tie.  But before they could journey across the river to Rose's (my grandmother and his wife) family gathering, Pap (as the family called him) insisted he had to first go home to check up on his dogs.  This gave him a break between church service where he attended reluctantly and the busy noisy activity with his wife's sisters for the day.  He enjoyed  the gatherings where he would adjourn with the men outside for a cold piwa (beer) and cigar after dinner, but he stalled going each time.   Rose, my grandmother would be very frustrated because they could have taken the bus  right from church across the river to her sisters and ridden with her sisters.  But Pap would have a respite using his dogs as an excuse.  She said he  liked those dogs better than anything; after enough weeks of that she began to  take the bus immediately after church with her sisters and let Pap go home alone to  pet his dogs, feed them or  whatever excuse he had.  He would take the later bus and join them later, problem solved, schedules rearranged, every body was happy.   They had no vehicles so it was bus or by foot. 

1956 Teofil has a woodchuck to tame, but it was summer
and Rose allowed it outside
 

I heard stories that Teofil could easily hunker in a bush and snare birds to tame them as caged pets; I do remember they always had beautiful canaries.  He  was intrigued with making pets out of groundhogs aka woodchucks. About  1930 he brought a groundhog into  their family  home in a coal town; it was cold outside, winter time and he'd found the poor furry creature shivering on his way home from the mine. He was a softy for animals.  He picked it up and brought it home; he would tame it later but for tonight, unbeknownst to Rose, it needed to warm up. Teofil  set the  creature in a small box near the wood stove that heated the home and went to bed, it was late, he'd worked an extra long double shift and Rose and the kids were already asleep.  Rose got up early in the morning and was not amused to discover the animal there, so she immediately  tossed it out side, or so it is speculated.  Later on when Pap arose, he looked at the small box where he'd left his rescued ground hog and found the box empty.  "Rose, where's  the guy?"  Something like that he asked.  She looked straight at him and  asked what he was talking about.  He told her how he'd found it cold, shivering and she looked at him and said he must have been dreaming, she'd never  seen a ground hog and what would it be doing in her kitchen anyway.  He had no proof and Rose admitted to nothing, so that was the end of that although he did have the kids scurry round about and search for it.  Rose did not bat an eye but went on cooking breakfast.  I thought this was so like my grandparents when I heard this story several years ago from Uncle Carl; if I'd known about it as a kid I would have found out the truth, but I can believe my grandma tossed the critter out with a good hurl.  She was an eat off the floor housekeeper.  I can only imagine her  keeping quiet and not admitting a thing.

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