Flashback Friday

Journal Jar question:  "Did your mother or grandmother sew, quilt, knit or crochet?  Tell about some of the things she made."

The answer to this one, is yes, yes and YES!  Some of the most cherished possessions that I have were handmade for me or my family by my mother, my grandmother(s), my sister or Lincoln's grandmother.  We have been the recipients of a bountiful array of quilts, baby blankets and afghans.  (and no, afghans are not people from Afghanistan, they are crocheted blankets!!!)  One of my treasured quilts is one that my mom made out my old dresses and clothes.  It is like a time capsule.  I can look at it and it takes me back to my childhood.

Mom and I quilting one of her "Sun Bonnet Sue" quilts for one of her grand-
daughters.   Mom . . . . Let me know when you put on another one of them!!!



My mom  has always handmade the bulk of her gifts to us and our kids.  She is in the process of making quilts for all the grandkids.  It has taken her several years to get through them all, but she is getting to it!!!  She made all her grandsons Levi quilts which she knocked out pretty fast, but for the granddaughters she is making "Sun Bonnet Sue" quilts, which require her to hand embroidery each square on the quilt.  I've helped her quilt 2 of them.  It was a pretty ambitious project for her!  (she's got 14 grandchildren!! 7 boys and 7 girls)  In addition to what she makes for her family, she has either crocheted, cross stitched or sewn something for each new baby that arrives in the ward she lives in.  She's done this for as long as I can remember!

Just recently, Lincoln and I decided to tackle our crawl space and make some tough decisions.  We lived here 12 years and our crawl space has become packed with stuff that we have emotional attachments to.  Things that people have made or given to us are some of the hardest to get rid of.  We had to take a good look at some of the stuff  we were keeping.  We decided that we would keep a few things, at least one for each person in the family.  Even though some of the items were threadbare and falling apart and stained it was hard to stuff them in a bag and take them out to the trash.  OH SO HARD! 

I, personally, kept the "memory" blanket my mom made for me, oh so many years ago, the one made out of my clothes when I was a child.  It is tattered and torn from the loving use I've given it.  Someone besides me is going to have to dispose of it, and they will wonder why I was keeping such a rag. 

 

I've often felt a little sad because I haven't been able to make blankets and quilts for my kids.  I didn't make any because we have so many.  No need for more.  But really, I need to count my blessings and be happy and thankful for the shower of blessing others have given to us!  I AM thankful!!!

Not all Gruff

Lest I leave an impression that my Grandpa Young was all gruff, I must add some other things that I remember about him.

My grandfather was an awesome scriptorian.  He knew his scriptures thoroughly and he had chapters of scripture memorized.  The pages of his scriptures were so thin from use that we children were not allowed to touch them.  The pages were fluffed up from use and the book was "fat" because of that use.  My grandfather served a mission for the LDS church while his family was still young.  Five kids, and a wife that were left behind to take care of the farm, milk the cows and all else that it entailed.  Now that is dedication . . . . . for all involved!


Grandpa and Grandma Young
(Alva and Emily)

My grandfather had a love for music and had would sing songs for us.  "Preacher and the Bear" was one of the songs he sang.  He also sang us "Mares Eat Oats" as we sat on his foot and he gave us a horsey ride.  He also had some humorous monologues memorized.  One was about the plight of a married man, that he recited at my husbands and my wedding reception. 


He would have us pull off his boots when he'd come in from work.  Oh my! he would go most of the week without a bath, and he worked hard.  There was nothing like the smell of grandpa after a week of farm work . . . . . oops, I was trying to be positive!!!



Grandpa loved Nilla Wafers, and grandma kept them in stock for him (and us)!  He also loved ice cream and root beer floats, which we were often the recipients of too. 

Grandpa loved to dance.  He could do a mean "Charleston" and would dance to "The Beer Barrel Polka" whenever it was played.  My aunt had an organ that was in my grandparent's home that I played a lot.  I played music from their era, and we had a lot of fun with it.  Christmas carol's were another high point.  We always sang them on Thanksgiving after dinner, which is a tradition we try to keep up. 

We spent a lot of Sundays at our grandparent's house.  A lot of times there would be cousins there to play with.  We would watch "The Waltons" or "The Wonderful World of Disney" or "Lawrence Welk" as a family.  Grandpa also loved to watch baseball.  You couldn't switch the channel even when he fell asleep.  We tried it once and he woke up the second the channel changed!!  He watched a lot of baseball through his eyelids!!

These were good times!  Fun memories . . .  . .

Flashback Friday

Journal jar question (yes, I did put one back today!):  Tell something you remember about your relationship with your grandfather. 

Grandfathers. . . . . hmmmmmm.

I have had more experience with my grandfather on my father's side. . . . . . Grandpa Young was a hard worker.  I remember very little about him except for the "high emotion" times.  I remember one time wanting to go out and do chores with him.  He sternly told me that he was in a hurry (I believe it was getting dark and he needed to finish in the daylight) and I could only go with him if I could keep up.  Grandpa's stride was huge and he could walk fast.  I remember having to run to keep up with him!  I remember feeding the horses and watching him milk the cow on that occasion.

I remember he'd be the one to get after us if we were found doing something he didn't approve of.  One day my siblings and some cousins and I were digging in a freshly dug drainage ditch.  Drainage ditches were much larger than regular ditches.  We were having tons of fun digging out chairs to sit in and we were trying to tunnel through the dirt.  Grandpa found us and I've never seen him so mad.  He gave us all a "dutch blessing" and told us in no uncertain terms to STAY AWAY FROM THAT DRAINAGE ditch and there would be "H" to pay if we came back.  We were stunned!  How mean!  We were just having fun!

Well it was after he died that I read his mother's journal and found out why he was so adamant about us staying away from that ditch.  This is an excerpt from her journal, as I read it I got cold chills and had a new appreciation for how grandpa must have felt when he found us playing in that dirt and how much he loved us because of the anger he showed toward us:

Harvey and LeRoy herded the cows in the summer. One afternoon Val’s  boys Wallace and Dell came to play. I told them to take the cows to the pasture and watch them while they played, and not to play around the drain the county was making through the land. The banks were high and it was an inviting place to play hide and go seek. Which they did and the bank caved on them. It completely covered LeRoy and buried Harvey to his neck. Wallace and Dell were covered almost to their waist. Tee Bohn our neighbors boy was playing with them he didn't get caught in the cave in.

He said "I am a boy scout" ran about a quarter of a mile to Hampton’s and got a shovel and told them to get help, Harvey could feel LeRoy’s head against his leg. Wallace and Dell were on the other side of Harvey. Harvey told them to run over his hands so he could dig for LeRoy’s head. When the soggy dirt fell it locked LeRoy over against Harvey. they got his head uncovered he had passed out, LaVelle helped dig him out. When I got there he was lying on the bank very weak, The other three boys were still in the sod up to their knees. Their noses were bleeding and they looked a sight. When I saw they were still alive I sat down by LeRoy and cried for joy.

LaVelle put him in the little red wagon and wheeled him home, There was no men to help as they were all working on their farms. I called on our Heavenly Father for help, he answered my humble prayer.

Harvey, Leroy and LaVelle are all siblings of my grandfather.  I still cry when I read this and wish Grandpa would have chosen to explain this to us rather than get mad and storm away.  As always he had a lot of work to do and little time to get it done.  Now I at least understand why.  This is one thing I would like to talk to him about one day. 

I LOVE YOU GRANDPA!

PS- The journal entry is from my daughter Halley's name sake . . . . . Mary Halley Wilkin Young Jensen.  She was known as "Halley."

Be careful what you blog about . . . . .

Today is Veteran's day, and my veteran had an agenda for today . . . . . because he reads my blog!  We did some work around the house, went to the shooting range, and then finished up the day going to Applebees where they were offering a free meal to military veterans. 

You like Lincoln's shadow clicking our picture?  The range was full when we arrived and we had to wait our turn.  The smell of gunpowder is a smell I like.  Sulfury and smokey . . . . it brings back good memories.

Before when I've been shooting with the family, I've never gotten my fill of shooting.  Usually I got to shoot just enough to wet my appetite for more. 

Today I shot until I couldn't shoot anymore.  I think this is the first time I've used a scope.  It almost seems like cheating in a way.  Lincoln has a nice little one-shot 22 rifle that was fun to shoot and had no scope!  FUN!

We hit the bullseye quite a few times.  Watching everyone fire their different type of handguns makes me want to acquire one of those.  I remember shooting my dad's 22 and 44.  I'd rather go for the smaller caliber.  My goodness, there were a variety of guns there today.  Some of them were so loud it'd make you jump even with you earplugs!!!  After a while I stopped being so jumpy though! 

The rest of the story

I had to giggle when someone commented on my "flashback friday" that she was impressed that I remembered my bus driver's name.  Our bus driver in our early years was unforgettable.  Anyone who rode that bus could not and would not forget her name.  I know her name, I know her last name, I know her husbands name.  One reason is that we lived in a very small community.  Carmela (Car) was not only our neighbor, but my mother's friend and Car and her husband were the only token non-Mormon's of the area.  They were catholic and as far as I know they did not practice their religion.  Quite an anomaly in a Mormon community!

Car is a very colorful person.  She was the only person I knew who could cuss and get away with it, she could talk your leg off, and she tormented the children and teenagers that she came in contact with.  I really should feel privileged to have been a target of her consternation. . . . . underneath it all I think she really liked us but just didn't know how to express it underneath all of her crustiness.  (she is really a softy I'm think'n)

Car and her husband kept peacocks.  We loved driving by her house because of the peacocks.  Seeing them with their tails all spread out in their finery was a treat.  We also hated driving by her house . . . . because Car had eAgLe EyEs.  The next time you saw her she'd say something like "you were driving kind of fast the other day weren't you?"  or "didn't you see the stop sign the last time you drove by?" and stuff like that.  It's as if she thought we were going to hit one of those precious peacocks or kill someone in our thriving metropolis of 50 (maybe 50) people! 

Car never waited for you at the bus stop.  If you weren't standing in line ready to get on it, she'd pass you by.  Even if she saw you running frantically to get there.  Even if you just had seconds to go before you made it to the bus stop . . . . . you'd be in her dust.  I saw her dust a few times!!  We watched for her bus like a hawk.  When it passed the corner about a half mile away, we'd yell, "the bus is coming!" and all head to the bus stop . . . . . too funny!

How many years did Car drive bus???  I'd say it might be into the 40's.  I know she drove bus before I rode it, and she was still driving it when my nieces and nephews rode it.  I didn't ride her bus all of my bus riding years . . . . my mom and dad drove bus and another dude "Manly" drove also . . . . . and yes I knew his name . . . . . he was our bishop!!!  (and we called him by his first name, ha!)

Our search continues

We have been in search of a hobby for McKay.  Something that he would have passion for and would want to spend time doing.  Something that wasn't a video game!!!  Since he likes shooting type video games we thought he might like to shoot for real.  Lincoln and he went and purchased a couple of guns, ammunition and a yearly pass to the shooting range and they were all ready to go!  He was going to join a 4-H rifle club, but they only meet on Sundays.  bummer!


 Target Shooting really is a lot of fun and I think it is a good thing for anyone to understand the power of a real gun and learn to handle one safely.

 

Here is my gorgeous hunk of man!

Standing . . . . . . (which is harder)

And sitting.

I thought McKay would come home super excited and begging to go every weekend.  Alas, it was not so.  I think he enjoyed himself, but wasn't a passionate as I thought he'd be.  Lincoln had kind-of scared me away from going with them by telling me how primitive the shooting range was.  PRIMITIVE? Now that I see these pictures I'm thinking he just didn't want me along.  (just kidding, he wouldn't do that)  I know he knows how primitive our family's shooting experiences were so he just must be spoiled with the military ranges he goes to.  I'm thinking I need to get out there and shoot with them!  It is always a fun time!  For those of you who may think we are horrible . . . . . . I say don't knock it til you try it!!!!

Flashback Friday

Journal Jar time!  Today, when I picked a slip out of the journal jar I told myself I wasn't going to stick it back in and pick another . . . . I'm tempted with this one, but will give it a try.  "Describe a typical school day as a child in elementary school."

I really don't have many memories of my younger years.  I remember events that had high emotion associated with them, but otherwise I need a huge jog in memory to recall anything!

School days for me always started with a bus ride.  I remember the bus drivers more than the kids on the bus!  Carmela, one of our bus drivers, scared all of us kids to death.  She would ask us questions as we would get on the bus, that I am sure were meant to keep us tongue-tied and befuddled!  I would try to make myself as invisible as possible to avoid her glare and questions!  Her bus was a safe one to ride, however.  She didn't allow any horseplay or noise what-so-ever.  You DID NOT want the wrath of Carmela!  As a side note, my mom didn't teach us to call those who were older than us Mrs. or Mr., Sir, or Ma'am, Sister or Brother, we always called the adults in our life by their first names.  Was this common back then?  I know today, it is a bit disrespectful, but we didn't think anything of it!  I even called my piano teachers and Sunday school teachers by their first names  . . . . . . .

The rest of the school day was typical . . . . class, recess, class, lunch, class, recess, class.  I HATED recess!  Recess time meant socializing.  I am JUST getting so I feel comfortable with socializing.  I'm best at home, with no phone calls, with a project to do a book to read or the piano to play.  I make a wonderful recluse!  Recess was a painful experience.  Again, I just tried to make myself invisible, tried to find a spot where no-one would notice me and the time would drag by until the bell saved me and we could go back and have some structured class time.  I loved working on my own.  Group projects scared me and I still roll my eyes in church when teachers put together "group" discussions.  I guess I've kinda gotten over some of that though . . . . now I have book club, stamp club, cooking club . . . . . . . . one of those clubs I even am the "head" of.  Goodness gracious, no need for invisiblesness now!