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…
Fact: Baby Boomers were born between 1946 and 1964. To make it easier to remember, the Boomers time frame basically started with the post-war “boom” (which had nothing to do with the Manhattan Project) and ended with the launch of Beatlemania (I made that last part up). So, yes, I’m a Boomer. We ate very differently back then. We nearly always dined at home. Slowly, as the ’60s progressed, stay-at-home moms discovered simpler recipes to make than what their mothers…
Does anyone still watch for “the first robin of spring”? That was a game, of sorts, growing up in western Massachusetts. Winters were so long that even a whisper of spring gave us a real lift. Sidenote: I fondly remember the annual family activity of clearing the driveway of the half-foot or so of packed snow and ice. It was genuinely fun chipping away the giant chunks during the February thaw and again in the spring. The only other chilly…
She was regal. She dripped with jewels. Her royal standing knew no equal. And she was purple. I don’t know why, but memories of Madam Queen came rushing back yesterday. And not just my affection for the oversized purple plush kitty cat, but how I got her. Madam Queen, or Maddy if you knew her well, was a gift. Not a birthday present, not a Christmas package, one of those “just because” gifts. Grandma Cassidy came to visit shortly after…