As a kid, it ticked me off that certain things were “boys only.” For example, my dad took my brothers bowling. But not me. “I’ll take you bowling on your wedding day,” Dad promised. I reminded him of that oft-spoken vow on Gary’s and my big day in 1982, but didn’t hold my father to it. It was the mid-1960s, and my older brothers were donning the special robes, lighting the candles, ringing the chimes, and burning the incense. My…
An estimated 10 percent of the population favors their left hand over their right. They are what’s known as left handed. As today is International Left Handers Day, online “facts” abound. Yes, I’m one of the ten-percenters. The weird thing is – so are two of my three brothers. That would make you think it’s genetic, right? Not in this case: Both of our parents are right-handed yet only one of their four children favors his right hand. And, if…
“Boy am I glad to have this cell phone!” Well, I nearly cried. I’d talked Dad into buying a mobile phone well over a decade ago. It took until the other day – and the aftermath of Hurricane Isaias – to hear him praise the handiness of this new-fangled option to his trusty land-line phone. Gary and I sometimes ponder this question: What gadgets will our sons want us to use in the future? My husband is incredibly technology-adverse (although…
In the middle of the night, a mosquito bite woke me up from a deep sleep. Not a new bite, just an extremely itchy one. Darn those mosquitoes! The bite was so itchy that I’d dabbed Benedryl Cream on it yesterday afternoon, and topped it off with a band-aid. Advice: Be sure to put tubes of anti-itch cream away safely after using. As mortifying as this is, I must admit to not paying attention a few weeks ago and squeezing…
It’s “Tell the Truth Day” and, boy, does that trigger a memory! It was the fall of 1968 and I was a 5th grader at Sacred Heart Elementary School in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. There were two fifth grade classes, taught by Mrs. McGill and Sister Helena Maria. On the first day of class, our names were called. My two best friends – Elizabeth Cross and Anne Marie Cuzzone – were thrilled to be in Mrs. McGill’s class. I crossed my fingers…
Memory is a fascinating function of the brain. It’s especially curious when two people share the same experience, but carry somewhat different versions with them into the future. For example, a Christmas shopping trip in December 1963, with Dad as my shopping buddy. Destination: downtown Pittsfield, Massachusetts. (After 1963, Mom always took me Christmas shopping. It was a treat. We would stop by Rosa Restaurant on North Street “for a bite,” as Mom would say.) It never occurred to me…
Dear Dad – My brothers and I decided to capture a list of some of the quirky, memorable, and downright goofy Dad-isms you treated us to over the years. Dad, you may not have often regaled us with what are now called Dad Jokes (and for that we are grateful!), but you nevertheless kept us entertained. This collection of Dad-isms fell naturally into the following five themes: Music to our ears Hippie Music! As rock and roll music took over…
Does anyone else feel conflicted about blueberries? They’ve rolled in and out of my life over the years, with mixed reviews. Let’s start with 1961. Apparently I just loved a bowl of fresh blueberries and cream. Mom even wrote a poem about it: For Paula, Who Is Three Tomorrow (I won’t be able to do it then) Who likes blueberries, blueberries, blueberries …all of the children in our house. For we have small and padded bearswho sit on small and…
The usual meaning for the term “keyboard warriors” is those angry trolls who make sure social media is always stirred up with arguments and untruths. For our purposes, though – and during Teach Music Week – we’ll look at the keyboards that tie our family together. Piano keyboards. Dad remembers taking piano lessons when his family lived in Lowell in the early 1940s. He was ten or 11 and would walk just a few blocks to get to Mrs. Salmonson’s…
Today is Grandma Cassidy‘s birthday. And it’s Poetry Day. Born in 1903, Grandma wouldn’t have permitted us to calculate her age, had the luck of the Irish kept her with us all these years. Saints preserve us! Me sainted Grandmother has made her home in heaven since 1991. I was “great with child” at the time, with middle-son John on the way and couldn’t travel to attend her funeral in New Haven. I’ve always believed her blithe spirit lives on…