Mom's Birthday

Today would have been Mom's 85th birthday!

She always tried so hard to make me look presentable, and I'm not really sure why so many of these old photos are off-centered. Maybe it was difficult to see through the viewfinder. 

I think this was taken in front of the Mallard's house. They were very good friends of my parents and once lived next door to us, but they moved after the husband retired. I think.

I was fascinated that they didn't have children. How could you not have kids?

Plus Shirley Mallard had cats. I was fascinated with cats, and I wondered why she put towels on her bed for them to sleep on.

I asked my mother all about these things as we drove to and fro, and she explained that not all people have children but that didn't mean they didn't like children. And that cats were dirty, well, they shed hair and that was a mess. 

Mom looks pretty pulled together here in her black suit with 3/4 quarter length sleeves, and would you look at the size of those buttons! Very nice!

Me? Well the socks say it all. 

Happy Mother's Day!

This picture was taken by a camera salesman in a place called Fedco (which was like a precursor to Costco but for federal employees). He was trying to sell my Dad a brand new Polaroid camera.

We were a dubious threesome. Can you tell?

I remember the incident so well. We had come in from the rain, kind of raggedy, and the salesman just sprang it on us. My mom was upset with the way her hair looked. My dad was skeptical with this new technology, and I didn't want my picture taken. (My father is holding me there by my jacket. (btw, I loved that jacket!))

When I look at this photo now, I could kiss that salesman on the lips for capturing us all on film in that weird moment, especially my beautiful mother.

Why A Little Loaf Can Make Me Cry

During the summer before I transferred to a four-year university, I substituted for the receptionist at the place my mom worked in downtown L.A.

Mom and I would burst forth from that office building at lunchtime like race horses. She was always so excited about the hustle and bustle of city life, as she would whisk me down a hole that suddenly turned into a restaurant.

"Oh, this place has the best soup!" she would exclaim. "And look at the cute loaf of bread they give you. Personal size!"

Lunch and some window shopping went by quickly and we were back at the office in one of those towering glass and metal buildings.

I think she was quite tired of the sexism and the politics of her workplace, but they paid her buckets full of money, and mom and dad were in a five-year sprint to an early retirement to Sedona. So she put up with it. I could tell having me around for that short time was a saving grace for her too.

Not that was always the case. Mom and I had not talked to each other for a few years before this. She had a problem with me when I was teenager, so I graduated high school and moved out when I was 16. It was for the best, and I was okay. I worked and went to college. I didn't have a car, but I didn't need one.

By the end of my L.A. summer, I was ready to move north to go to school. A year later I got married, and a year after that Mom got cancer.

My Mother

This is my mother at the age of 23. My Dad gave me a folding picture frame with Mom on one side and a picture when he was in the Navy on the other side.

All day I have been going crazy over vintage paper dolls.  I've been zinging around Flickr groups and Google having a good ole time and wondering what happened to those old paper dolls my Mom used to have.

I bet my Mom would have enjoyed the internet. She loved to correspond and she loved crafts and sewing. Yes I would bet my bottom dollar she would have loved the internet.

I couldn't figure out why I had Mom so on the brain today until a caught sight of the date. November thirteenth.

She died 25 years ago.

Tea Time

I Heart Singer

Behold! The old Singer sewing machine! My parents were quite clever one Christmas (oh about 30 years ago but whose counting) when they wrapped up a small package that fit in the palm of my hand. Unwrapped I found it was an old time sewing machine pencil sharpener with a little note that said something like "Judy, if this is not what you wanted, go down the hall and get the real one." So clever! But I was totally confused. What? What? What hall? A real old sewing machine? What are they thinking?

But down the hall that they had to steer me to and on the bed at the end of hall there sat the box. No wrapping or ribbon but was clearly stated a Singer Sewing Machine (what was inside it is pictured below). Grant you, nothing fancy. A beginner's model really, but a sewing machine. I was one happy girl!

I love my first sewing machine!

Some years later (like yesterday) I decided I needed a new sewing machine to do bigger projects like a quilt I have planned. And lo and behold, I went to Target to see what kind of machines they had. I could have bought anything I suppose. But what I really I wanted is what I already have. 

To Be Honest. I love my Singer. And I could have kept using my old machine, but I don't like playing with ancient electronics. (Not that I'm ancient - well yeah, I guess I am.) So....

It's Judy's Birthday Week!

I bought myself a new machine. 

Now with Lime Green accents. 

May Have To Edit This One

I kind of like this one better than the one above in the banner. I was trying to go for the color pink, you know, it's that time of year. But this is my first exploration with this program "Capture," and what a clunk. Maybe I should read the instructions. 

  

Anyway Vday is on my brain. My Dad sent me a card. Isn't that sweet? When I was a young adult, he would always give me a small heart-shaped box of chocolates. Isn't that sweet? Well, after my Mom passed, I learned, well, it was my mom buying and sending the chocolates. Isn't that funny and sweet too? Mom knew how much Daddy's love meant to me. He was busy with work, so she stepped in. 

  

So here it is - so many years later. Some years he remembers, others, well it is near tax time after all. And Dad does everyone's taxes. He is 84 years old, and totally there. Everyone depends on him too. 

  

Some healthcare worker upon learning the age of dad said, "Isn't that nice to know?" "What's that," I said. "Oh, that you have his longevity gene." She replied. 

  

Well, it would be a heck of a lot nicer to know that my mom had this "longevity gene" too. She didn't. And so far the lives of me and Mom are looking like carbon copies, which is really weird because I didn't know half of what happened in her life until after she died. 

Mom's Stash

When my brother said he found some of Mom's stuff and asked me if I wanted it, I said sure. At least I wanted to see what it was. He brought me a box or two every couple of months as he was helping my dad clean out the garage. Finally I reached saturation point and just stored the boxes unopened in the back bedroom of the old ranch house. 

  

Now that I've moved to the new ranch house, I've finally been getting around to emptying boxes and sorted through stuff. And guess what? I found my mother's stash of patterns! This is so cool and it isn't just garments. There are doll patterns and a variety of other goodies. 

I might have to make a toaster cover.