Happy St. Patrick's Day

As a youngster, I grew up in a family with people of Irish and English descent. I identified with the Irish side of the family, and when St. Patrick's Day rolled around, we always wore green and usually a badge that said "Kiss me, I'm Irish".

Whenever I saw a movie that had been filmed in Ireland, I marveled at the beauty of it and wanted to visit the land of my ancestors' birth. Due to my dark hair and fair skin, people would ask if I were Irish.

Imagine my surprise to find out that my birth parents were not Irish at all, but English and Scots. All of a sudden I felt cut-off from what had always been a point of reference. I could no longer truthfully and proudly say, when asked about my origins, that I was Irish.

But then I decided that being Irish could be as much a state of mind as anything else, and so I still celebrate St. Patrick's Day with a deep feeling of kinship with all things Irish.

Happy St. Patrick's Day to One and All!
and Happy Birthday to my friends Nancy V. and Steve D.

Note: this is a repost from a few years back. 

In Southern Pines, NC last weekend, we read the local newspaper, The Pilot, and found two things that may be of interest.

I am hoping that you will be able to click and enlarge the articles about "The Fonz" and the new Andy Griffith/Mayberry Museum in Mt. Airy, NC.

No Place Like Home?

My good friend Tiff wrote about some places she has lived, and she got me to thinking about mine. After college and technology school, I moved to VA to work in a hospital lab. My parents drove me there, along with all of my worldly possessions (which fit into their car trunk, with space for their luggage too) and found a room for me to rent in a private home across the street from the hospital. The landlady was a widow - a grandmotherly sort. It was a nice enough room, in an older home with large, sunny windows, quiet tenants, and the commute was easily walkable. BUT.... (there always is one of those, isn't there?) it wasn't much fun for a girl away from home for the first time, with no car and no cooking skills. I didn't have cooking/kitchen privileges anyway, so that didn't matter, but I had to eat all my meals away from home, which got expensive even with the hospital cafeteria discount.

The head of the laboratory was also a single woman, about 2 years older than I. She invited me to move into her apartment, which was the second floor of a private home, with an outside entrance. Since she had a car, we drove to work together and went shopping together - in fact - we went nearly everywhere together, which was nice at first, but got to be difficult later on. After we had lived there about 3 months, we were given reason to leave. Seems the landlords (who lived below us) objected to the fact that we went grocery shopping at 2am on Saturday nights and they didn't like the noise of our footsteps going up and down the outside staircase after 10 pm. (We tried to be quiet.) As twenty-somethings, we found that to be an intolerable rule, so we moved. We took an apartment on Shore Drive, across the road from Chesapeake Bay. It was a six unit apartment, with poor views (the apartment next door), but it was convenient to work and shopping and to the ocean and a beach - which is key - right? The night we moved in, we were exhausted. After tossing and turning for a few hours, my roommate got up to get a drink of water. She turned on the lights in the kitchen, surprising at least 1000 roaches walking all over the walls and counter tops, which then scattered back into the cabinets, baseboards, window moldings and floorboards. We screamed like little girls and didn't sleep another wink that night.

(I'm getting deja vu. I think I've told this story recently; maybe here, maybe not. If I'm repeating myself, please excuse me and move along.)

Suffice it to say that the new landlords got several pieces of our minds the next day, and they agreed to call an exterminator and contract with them for monthly service - otherwise we'd move immediately. When they sprayed our apartment, the roaches went next door and downstairs.....which made the neighbors unhappy, so the landlords had everything sprayed and it was okay from then on. It took us a week to clean everything out of the kitchen and get it sanitized (or so we thought - it still turns my stomach to think about it.)

Then, I met mr. kenju - or the man who became mr. kenju - and the relationship with my roommate went downhill quickly from that point. She was jealous. We tried to set her up with dates, but she was very picky. She was about 5'2" tall and not much to look at, but her dates had to be over 6' and very cute. Semi-cute , intelligent, polite and classy didn't mean much to her if the guy possessing those attributes was under 6' tall. (Sheeesh I say. Short girls ought to leave tall men alone so tall women can attempt to get them!) Anyway, she became increasingly hard to get along with and I finally reached the point where I'd had all I could take. A friend of mine in the laboratory owned rental property with her husband, and they offered me one of their apartments, at reduced rent. I pounced on it and moved in May. Luckily, it was fully furnished, since the only thing I owned was a sewing machine. Mr. k and I married that July, so I didn't live there alone for long.

Maybe it was harder for me to adapt because I lived at home until one year after I graduated from college. I'd never had a roommate until that first young woman in Norfolk, so I really didn't know what to expect. I was raised to be considerate of others, but with that woman - you could be crucified for looking sideways at her - and never know or be told why. (Sort of like my mom.....lol)

What about you? Did you ever have trouble with room mates?

Ooooh, it smells soooooo good!

Back in the very early days of my first blog, I wrote about smells and how they can influence us. Not many people saw that post, so I decided to run it again. Enjoy!

Camp Stories + a Quote

We lie the loudest when we lie to ourselves.
Eric Hoffer, philosopher and author (1902-1983)
Note: This quote has nothing at all to do with the story below!

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Five of my grandchildren were at camp for the last two weeks, in the mountains of western Virginia. It is a beautiful place and from all reports, they seemed to love it there as much as their parents and aunt did. I got a letter from one of my two first-time camper granddaughters, who reported:

"Hello! It's my third day at camp and I am totally loving it! We made a few new friends and have met a lot of great people. We have played soccer and volleyball and the square dance is tomorrow night. The big campfire night is tonight - also soooo much fun! I miss you two, but I'll see you soon!"

It wasn't all a bed of roses, however, as she reported to her parents that there was a "mean" girl in her cabin. Her sister, the kid who sleeps til noon in summer, also reported that she loved camp - where they made them get up much earlier than that. She told her parents that she loved camp so much she "even tried spinach". This from a kid who eats no vegetables except corn.

I recall a very mean girl in my cabin the first year I went to camp. I was only six (probably too young for most kids, and it certainly was for me). I remember very little else about my camp years, although I attended from age six to thirteen, but I do remember very well the mean girl. Her name is burned into my memory (Jeanette B.) and I can only think of two other' girl's names, so you know how much of an impact Jeanette had on me. I wrote about this before - so go here to read all about it, then come back and tell me one of your camp experiences.

Oddly enough, I received an email today from a guy who went to Carbide Camps, inviting me to their reunion this coming weekend. I find it odd that there are reunions of those campers, but it seems that some of them had such great experiences that they want to relive them nearly every summer. I had some good times at camp after that first year, but nothing that would make me want to go to a reunion. I might run into Jeanette!

The Keys to My Karma*

*That's the name of my current toenail polish - but it makes a great post title, doesn't it? Click photo to embiggen.

I found all these keys on Tuesday when I was cleaning out a cabinet in the garage. All of them came from my parent's house after they died, and the last one was in 1995, so it's been over 14 years. The one on the upper right is my old skate key, and it says "Chicago Skate Co." on it. It's at least 63 or 64 years old. I got my first set of skates when I was about five.

The round thing to the left of it is a screwdriver, made to be placed on a key ring. I used to have it on my key ring and then took it off. Of course, I needed it the day after I removed it. (and then misplaced it). Always happens, doesn't it? I think you can read it if you click to enlarge. The opposite side has a four-leaf-clover and says Made in U.S.A.

The one in the middle, with a "handle" is a clock key. It says PM (enclosed in a circle) and the words Made in West Germany, with the number "7" on the opposite side. The key just to the lower left of the skate key says Atkinson Long Mfg. Co. New York, NY, with the number T6662. The opposite side says "Everlasting Lock".

Two of the skeleton keys say "Corbin" ; one has the number P12 and the other says H50.

Thanks to a tip I got from Grannymar on Wednesday, some of these keys will be spray painted, and hung on my Christmas Tree with ribbons come December.

Father's Day ~ A Redux

Back in 2005, I wrote about my dad. Many of you would not have seen this, so I'm posting it again. Happy Father's Day to everyone who is - or ever wanted to be - a father.



And to my former son-in-law, I wrote this letter. Although I am sure he never read this, someday I am hoping that he will stumble on it. He doesn't deserve to be called a father.

Since Patti told earlier this week about meeting Perry Como and Jackie Gleason - and I have nothing else to post - I'm going back into my archives yet again and post my story about meeting The Four Freshmen. Go. Read. But don't expect it to be as good as Patti's story.....LOL

And come back here for the photo I couldn't find when I first wrote that story.

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Go over here to see "why men aren't useless". I guarantee you'll like it!

My Earliest Memory ~ Redux

When you have nothing to post and can't think of anything to write - you can pop back into your archives and find something old to post. Enjoy.

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I finally managed to do something necessary today. I took a load of junk to the dump and I have another box ready to go to Goodwill tomorrow. It feels good to rid my house of stuff we don't need anymore. Now if I could just convince myself to sort through the 5,000 other things I don't really need - we'd be in good shape. (You think I'm exaggerating, don't you? I can assure you I am not.) When my daughter-in-law and two granddaughters were here Sunday, I let them go through the boxes to see if there was anything they wanted to take. Lo and behold, they took some things, but most of it was not items I thought they would want. But I was happy to share and pleased that they found some things they wanted.

Occasionally I get some junk mail that masquerades as a "newsletter". The last one had a list of household hints, from which I have gleaned the better ones. I can't personally vouch for the efficacy, but they might be worth a try:

1. One way to clean artificial flowers is to pour some salt into a paper bag and then add the flowers. Shake vigorously. The salt will absorb all the dust and dirt and leave the flowers looking like new. Or so they say. After that, you'd have to hire someone to re-arrange the flowers for you.....LOL.

2. When using a pastry bag, instead of putting the ingredients directly into the bag, wrap the ingredients in plastic wrap and cut the end off, then place in the pastry bag. This keeps the bag clean.

3. Put any musty smelling old books into a brown paper bag with baking soda in it, close tightly, and let sit for approximately one week.

4. In a pinch for a long match, use a piece of spaghetti. Just light the end. It's great for lighting water heater pilot lights, etc. I never knew that spaghetti would burn like that.

5. Use glow-in-the-dark paint to dab dots on your light switches and doorknobs. This way you can easily find your way when the lights are off at night.

6. Oil a metal tape measure with WD-40. It will remove rust and help it slide more easily.

7. The next time your mascara runs dry, don't toss it out. The brush is the perfect size for cleaning small nooks and crannies. Shampoo the bristles and allow them to dry - and get to work!

Golden Oldies from the Kenju Files

NOW go over here to read something originally posted on my old blog in 2005. I hope you enjoy the re-run!

Brought to You by the Letter...

Updated below!!

Evil Twin's Wife had a good meme last week. I said I'd do it too, so she assigned me the letter "M".

Microscope: There was a time when microscopes played a large role in my life . After college, I trained to be a Cytotechnologist; a word that simply means a cell technician. We looked through microscopes at slides prepared by doctors to determine the presence or absence of cancer cells. Most of them were Pap smears, but occasionally we would have slides of other bodily fluids to check. I did this for about 2 years, and quit when I was pregnant with my first child. I do not miss that job, but I found microscopes fascinating and I wanted to look at everything under one.

Mail: Who doesn't love a letter? I always enjoy getting them, but since the advent of email, real letters are hard to come by. I am just as guilty as the next person of not writing much anymore. My mom taught me the importance of thank you notes, and I always write them, but letters are pretty much a thing of the past. I hope that changes, since getting a letter always raises my spirits - and I suspect it does yours, too. Maybe we should make it a habit to write one nice letter a week. Who knows what would happen if we did.

Male: I've always liked them - at least most of them - and I'm glad that I have some in my life. To mr. kenju, our son, my grandsons and our many male friends, neighbors, relatives, bloggers and business associates - I say thanks for being there. Whatever would we do without you?!

Massage: "A method of treating the body for remedial or hygienic purposes, consisting in rubbing, stroking, kneading or tapping, etc., with the hand or an instrument. "

Now THIS is my favorite thing to get, so if you ever want to get a present for me - a gift card to a local masseuse is the ticket! I would be forever in your debt! Facials are nice too.

Mother: Everybody has at least one, but I have had two. My adoptive mother, who raised me to be the person I am today, and my birth mother, who is now in my life.

I am the mother of three wonderful people; who constantly amaze me and give me pause to wonder how I got so lucky to have them in my life. I am the grand-mother of six beautiful, smart, terrific kids and also three step-grandkids, who are just as handsome, smart and terrific as the bio-kids. There must be some good karma here somewhere.

Matrimony: I have done this once; 44 1/2 years ago, in Virginia. The scene was the Norfolk Naval Base Catholic Chapel. I wrote about it here.

Metronome: "An instrument for marking exact time, especially in music." Taking piano lessons as a youngster was something that I did not appreciate at the time, but I do now. My teacher would often make me practice with the metronome clacking back and forth and I would set the metronome to go faster than the music called for, which was a huge pain in her butt, as she let me know. I foolishly sold my metronome at a garage sale years ago for a pittance. I bet now it would bring a pretty price on eb*y!

Math: I hated it in school and I still do. Thank God for calculators!

Mistakes: I've made a few: quitting piano lessons when I was 9 and not old enough to make a good decision about it, not pursuing my first love - architecture and choosing to date a few losers (prior to mr. kenju, of course). There are a few others I wouldn't dare to post here, but you know what? I have finally forgiven myself for my mistakes. Being mired in regret keeps you from moving forward with your life. I have asked God to forgive me, too, and I have no reason to think He hasn't.

Money: Do we have enough? Yes, most of the time, although I may not appear to believe that . All we really need is to have our basic needs met (food, clothing, shelter) and to be able to pay the bills. Being disciplined enough to spend only what you have available is something for which we all need to strive. Had big business followed that credo, we might not be in the financial crisis we are in now.


I'd love to see YOU do this one. If you want to do it, ask me for a letter, okay?

How you do it: Either ask me for a letter, or choose one for yourself. What I did was go through the dictionary to find words that had meaning in my life and I picked ten of them, since that what Evil Twin's Wife did. You are free to choose more or fewer words, as you wish.

Vintage North Carolina

Click to enlarge - I hope. These are a few places I've been privileged to decorate for weddings and other events. Top: The Greystone Inn, Wilmington, NC.

"Oakview" in Raleigh, NC. Sadly, it is no longer available for weddings.

A private home in Wake Forest, NC. In case you can't read the sign, it says:

"Who would turn back 2 Hundred yeare, Let him A-light and Enter here.

This place has some interesting history; Dudley Moore stayed here in the 1980's with his then wife, who was from the Durham area. The original owners told me how Dudley began playing the piano in the parlour one evening, to the delight of all the guests. I wish I'd been there. I loved Dudley Moore!

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Did you see Boston Legal tonight? I am so glad to know that Denny Crane "crossed the aisle"! Seldom does a fictional drama allow its characters to set forth political views in the way that this show does. While it ended in a silly paint-ball spat between Denny and Alan, the actual dialog was masterful. That is also true of their courtroom closing arguments, no matter what topic they are debating. I am sad to know that this is the final year for Boston Legal, and hopeful that re-runs will be shown somewhere forever.

NOTE: at least five of you have told me that you cannot leave a comment on my blog. I just changed back to the older style of comment box - please let me know if you still cannot comment: kenju99@gmail.com

Circa 1930

I could tell you that this is a still photo from an old movie - and you might believe it - but it is my aunt and one of her boyfriends. I think it should have been a movie poster!! It reminds me of Theda Bara and Rudolph Valentino, although I have never seen either of them in a movie. My aunt was older than my mom, who was born in 1908, so I estimate this photo was taken sometime around 1928 to 1932.

There's no date on these, of course. The caption on this one says....."Dave with his hands full. " They were a playful lot, weren't they? My aunt is on the right, looking none too happy. Maybe she lost her hat.

My aunt on the left this time. The caption on this one is....."Erma sick. (So, that's why she wasn't happy.) Lillian laughing. Nell and Dave serious." It mentions three women, and there are only two in the photo. Oh, I guess Nell is a man..... LOL...heck of a name for a man unless it is short for Nelson.

My mom and my aunt (her sister) in the middle. I have no idea who the other two women are. These old pictures are such a window on the world in the 20's, at least as far as fashion goes, but they look like gun molls, don't they?

1979

My son, age 18 months and age 13.

My sweet sonny boy was 12 when he wrote this, in response to the quote at the top of the green page. He won his 7th grade Language Arts Medal with this one.

Shortly after I found this while I was cleaning out a closet, he called. I read it to him and he said it is somewhat ironic now, since he doesn't really like his chosen profession. I wish he could instantly change to something he'd enjoy. Last time I checked, however, beachcombing didn't pay well enough to support a family!


EDIT: When I posted this, I forgot that Carmi's theme was "kids" this week. Go over there to see the other people who participated in it.

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When I posted my wedding dress yesterday, I should have mentioned that I still have the dress. I wore it to parties several times after the wedding, since it was fairly casual. At some point, I spilled coffee on the sleeve, and it would not come out. Finally, in desperation, I dyed the dress brown to cover the stain, and I wore it several more times after that. I look at it now, and I cannot believe I ever fit into it!

Mr. Kenju's Family Photos ~ Part 3

It's really too bad we don't know who these people are, and that the old tin type is damaged enough that we can't see the face of the child on the lower right. The dad looks dapper enough, doesn't he?

In the top row left: Mr. kenju's aunt, uncle and great-grandmother on his father's side.



These girls may be out walking on their lunch hour in old NYC. I wonder what factory they worked in? Maybe they were schoolteachers?



As usual, none of these have dates or names on them. Sheeesh.

A Perfect Fit ~ in Green

Did you ever have a dress or a piece of clothing that made you feel like a million bucks when you wore it? I did, back in 1960. I worked at a department store that summer and whenever there were going to be sales, employees got advance notice. The Diamond had a special *high-class* (and high dollar) department, where they sold better labels and clothing by designers. I used to haunt that place and dream about being able to buy something, but their prices were always above my means. That summer a sale was announced for July 5th. I had been watching a beautiful silk dress by Oleg Cassini, who was well-known as Jackie Kennedy's preferred designer. This dress would be the equivalent of "the little black dress", except it was emerald green. The sheath was shaped well to show every curve, had short sleeves and a boat neck. I had been hoping it would be reduced, but I thought for certain that it would be bought before it could go on sale. There was only one, and it was size six. I could not have worn a size six in my usual clothing, but in designer wear, a six was equivalent to a regular size 10. At 5'10" and about 118 lbs., it fit me perfectly.

I got to the store early that morning, and as soon as the bell announced the store opening, I ran to the "fancy" department to find my dress. It was originally $150 and it had been marked down to $80. That was still a lot of money for me (age 19), but I was determined. With my employee discount, I decided the dress was worth it and I put it on layaway. I don't know how long I had to pay before I could take it home, but when I did, it was a special day! That dress was better made than anything I've ever worn. It was lined in fabric almost as luxurious as the silk of the exterior; the seams were all finished so that there was no chance for them to ravel and there were no loose threads or bulges anywhere. It was so well made that I could have worn it inside-out and hardly anyone would have known.

That dress was so perfect for me that I kept it long after it went out of style (and I outgrew it). As I write this, I am reminded of 2 other green dresses that I liked almost as much. One was a darker emerald green satin cocktail dress and the other was a hunter green wool knit with a dropped waist and inverted box pleats. And another (LOL) a pale celery green sleeveless knit dress with a flared skirt. Now that I think about it - every favorite dress I ever had was green! I wish I had a photo of the Cassini dress so you could see it. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Mr. Kenju's Family Photos

Mr. kenju's great-grandparents. We have no date for this. As luck would have it, none of their photos have names or dates or anything to identify them. POOH!

Edit: I've been shamed! He says it isn't his grandparents, he doesn't know for certain who they are. The man is definitely a relative of mr. kenju's - he looks very much like some others in the family.


Mr. kenju's cousins; probably in the 30's.


Mr. kenju's brother (called Pussycat in those days). Ain't he cute?!


A Holiday Gathering; mr. kenju is the boy in the middle on the back row, standing (the one with the beaver-tail tie), and mr. kenju's dad is the handsome man on the far left. His mom is holding the baby on the right. I find it odd that in a gathering of 7 adults (one assumes the photographer was adult) there are at least 5 bottles of booze on the table! LOL

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This is post # 601 here at Imagine. Add that to the 1,017 posts at Just Ask Judy and you have a grand total of 1,618 posts since January 16, 2005. I know I talk a lot, but that seems obsessive, doesn't it?

Obituaries, Algebra and Humility

For the last 10-12 years, I have had the habit of checking the obituaries in my hometown newspaper (online) nearly every day. I find classmates, neighbors and old friends of my parents, on occasion. While I was back home last weekend, I saw an obit and the name looked very familiar. I read on, and realized it was the poor woman who had the misfortune to try and teach me 8th grade algebra. She was 98.

Math was never my strong suit, although I overcame most of my trouble with lower math at some point, with the help of calculators. But plane geometry and algebra were my nemeses; especially algebra. I remember doing homework and feeling so good about it because I thought I had nailed it. The next day in school, I would learn that NONE of it was correct. I felt so defeated and I eventually gave up trying to learn what I was doing wrong. It was the only class I ever received a "D" grade for - and I was so very happy when 8th grade was over.

It would be conceited to expect that Mrs. Roush remembered me, or singled me out as her worst student ever, but sometimes I wonder. I had a teacher in 7th grade, in another school, who later became the Dean of Students at my college. She and I had a lot of face to face time while I was in college, and I thought for certain that I was high on her list of - if not favorites - at least well remembered students. Imagine my surprise when I went to the one and only reunion I have attended at my college and learned that she had absolutely no idea who I was. I was crushed and in total disbelief. A good lesson in humility, that.

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Uttering a word is like striking a note on the keyboard of the imagination.

Ludwig Wittgenstein, philosopher (1889-1951)

Morning on Boone Lake, TN

I wish I'd had a panoramic camera for this series. Can you imagine waking up to this view every morning? Eating meals on a screened porch, with warm and gentle breezes wafting through the trees? It is just this side of Heaven, take it from me.

In this and the photo below, the pasture on the left will be dotted with black angus cows by mid-morning. What a bucolic scene. Now and then a goose honks in the distance, and sometimes clouds form so quickly you'd think they were painted there, and then disappear just as fast.



Just off the porch, there are two bird feeders; one for hummingbirds and one for all others. The hummingbirds flit in and out constantly, and the doves fight for room on the other one, sharing space with sparrows, finches and many others I can't name. On this morning, as we sat eating, a song sparrow perched on the top of the upper deck umbrella not 12 feet from us and sang his little heart out. I was so glad I had my new hearing aids so I could hear him.

The evening before, after a spectacular meal (my cousin truly IS better than Martha Stewart!), we took a ride in the pontoon boat. They mentioned some visitors they'd had the week before, and the woman in that group had a very distinctive name, one you seldom hear. Years and years ago I had known a woman with that name, so I asked if by chance she had ever lived in Raleigh. They replied that she had (with her first husband). We started sharing other names in that family and soon realized it was the same one I had known briefly over 30 years ago. They lived two houses down from a friend of mine, and our paths crossed occasionally. My cousin and her husband met them at an ACC Basketball Tournament ten years ago (they are rabid Duke fans) and had become instant friends. We got caught up on their children and family "doings" and I have no doubt that they will soon be caught up with ours. How small this world is!

The rest of my trip had some interesting moments, and I hope to post about that in a day or two.

I hope you were good while I was gone! I'll try to catch up soon.

Want to see me in a hat? Thanks, Paul!

From the 1939 World's Fair....

What a treasure this is! Click to embiggen, and view a "conn-clave of champions" as it says, of boxers, taken at the 1939 World's Fair in New York. Mr. kenju's father was a security guard at that fair. This copy of the original, sent to us by a relative, was among a group of family photos dating back to the early years of the last century. I will be posting them from time to time.