Tag Archives: memories

Melancholy memories

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women's swimming meet poster
My daughter on a Utah Utes women’s swim meet poster

Every morning my husband and I get ready for our walk around 5 a.m. to avoid the heat. We don’t make it out the door for at least 30 minutes, needing clothes, clean teeth and coffee!

Consistently, we see one other couple out early. We say “Good morning!” “What a beautiful day,” and usually walk on.

During the weekend, my husband stopped to ask about their granddaughters who are swimmers. They told us their oldest signed with Northwestern and their youngest is getting calls across the country at top colleges. They talked about how they did at CIF (California Interscholastic Federation) where swimmers compete for their high school teams and how they were top finalists.

“Our daughter was a multiple CIF Champion,” my husband mentioned. Yes, she was. That’s a memory I’ll look back on with pride.

Our neighbors talked about a meet they just returned from in Northern California, the George Haines International Swim Meet. Yes, we’ve been to that meet, too. It’s filled with top swimmers including Olympians from the USA, Europe and Mexico.

Here’s a video I took of warm up from the George Haines International meet in 2017:

The conversation with our neighbors brought back so many memories from the days our kids swam. Busy days traveling to meets, staying in hotels, sitting with favorite parents on the stands. Each morning we wondered what the day would bring.

I felt a little sad and melancholy after talking to our neighbors. I’m glad we were a swim family. But there’s no going back to those days. On a sad note, the team our kids swam with from kindergarten through high school folded a few weeks ago after more than 50 years. I couldn’t count the hours we spent volunteering and supporting our team.

My daughter celebrating with her relay team at the end of a swim meet.

What memories from days past do you think about in a happy or melancholy way?

Letting go

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Our yellow lab Angus (RIP) on our chaise-and-a-half lounge.

I finally let go of our chaise lounges. We moved them from Palm Springs at my insistence. My husband wanted to leave them behind.

I recently wrote about my mom’s unnatural attachment to her flute and her reluctance to let it go HERE. Then I realized I was doing the exact same thing with two chaise lounges we’ve owned since the kids were little. For sentimental reasons, or for what those chaises represented, I couldn’t let go.

The chaise lounges in our Palm Springs backyard.

For the two-and-a-half years we’ve lived in Arizona, we’ve never once sat on our chaise lounges. They’ve been sitting under waterproof covers. Their fabric was deteriorating. But someday I was going to do something about that.

I watched as a chipmunk made trips across our patio, back and forth, with something white and fluffy in its mouth. I finally figured it out. I lifted the cover to a chaise lounge and there was a one-foot hole in the cushion. The chipmunk was using our chaise lounge to “feather his nest.”

Because of harsh desert weather, I’ve had the chaises recovered several times through the years. One of my best friends has an upholstery and sewing business. She recovered them for me at her cost. We used to live close enough to drive them to her.

I shopped online and the chaise-and-a-half cushion is not a standard size. I’d have to have them made to order and now it’s no longer the fabric, but the stuffing is ruined too. For a little more than the cost of new custom cushions, I ordered two standard-size chaises from Costco. We’ll even be able to lounge on them!

What did the chaises represent to me? Why couldn’t I let go? We got the oversized lounges so our young children, dripping wet from the pool, could snuggle in next to us. Angus our lab would spend evenings laying by my side as we watched the sunset. That was one of his favorite things to do. Mine too.

Those years are gone and nothing will bring them back. Not even holding onto chaise lounges that hold my dear memories.

It is bulk trash pickup week. I finally let go and my husband took the chaises to the curb.

The chaises were picked up from our curb — before the bulk pick up truck made it to our neighborhood! I hope they found a nice home and the new family enjoys them as much as we did!

Have you ever been attached to a physical object for sentimental reasons? Was it clothing, art, chaise lounges or something else?

What kind of “vert” are you?

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brother with two sisters
My Mom, her older brother and my aunt who is 11 or so years younger.

When my family got together to share memories of Mom — while feasting on her favorite dinner of prime rib and popovers that my brother prepared — my aunt (pictured above with Mom) shared several stories. I wrote about the red square contest HERE.

My mom had a funny sense of humor. Even in her later days. When I’d drive her for our favorite sushi lunch, if someone was crossing the street, she’ tell me’d say “Hit her. She’s worth three points.”

Mom’s dad died from stomach cancer at a very young age. My mom was possibly a freshman in college? With her little sister 11 or 12 years younger, my aunt didn’t remember much about her dad. She asked Mom, “What was Dad like? Was he an introvert? Or an extrovert?”

My mom thought for a bit and said, “He was just a regular vert.”

That reminded me of several comments I’ve seen on blogs lately, including my own. We identify as introverts and extroverts.

But are we really one or the other? Is there a combination? Are we introverts more extroverted with people we’re comfortable with? Or is that true for everyone?

What kind of “vert” are you?

The food fight

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The cottage we rented for years in Laguna Beach.

Did you see the news about a food fight at a baseball game? It was the Phillies “dollar dog night” that got totally out of hand with hot dogs thrown throughout the stadium. When I saw that, I flashed on a memory from when my kids were young.

One of the great things we did for our children was sign them up for Junior Lifeguards in Laguna Beach in the summer. It was quite a project. Laguna residents got to sign up first. It was fierce competition to get a spot. I’d drive down the night before registration opened for non-residents and stay in a hotel. Once I took my daughter with me. We got up at 5 a.m. and sat in front of the parks and rec building in beach chairs and sleeping bags. We were about fourth in line.

The line grew long by 8 a.m. and people walking by said “Woah! What concert are you waiting to buy tickets for?”

My son is in the second row to the bottom, third from right.

At Junior Guards the kids would run on the beach, learn about the different beaches and coves, swim through the blow hole and out in the ocean. They had all sorts of competitive games they’d play on the beach, too. They’d be exhausted when I’d pick them up at the end of the day.

The final day of Junior Guards was a picnic at Heisler Park. We’d all contribute something for the feast. I was shocked to find out the picnic ended in a free-for-all food fight! It was a disaster with the kids in their white Junior Guard t-shirts smeared with mustard, ketchup and potato salad. The park was a disaster!

Needless to say, I was not happy that my kids participated in it. But talk about chagrin! My son informed me my adorable young perfect daughter started it!

My hoodlum daughter is in the second row to the bottom with a big braid over her shoulder. My son is two rows directly above her.

What have your children done that surprised you — good or bad?

Views from my trip

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The house I grew up in from second grade on. No we didn’t have a blue garage! What were these people thinking!

I grabbed the front of the house photo from Redfin.

After my aunt and I left Robe Valley and my mother’s ashes, we drove to my hometown, Snohomish, Wash. During our journey we detoured up Lord’s Hill to my old house that I lived in from second grade until I left for college. My mom sold it after “the divorce.” It was too expensive for her to keep up on alimony payments.

First street Snohomish
First Street, the touristy part of my hometown.
Snohomish first street
Another view of First Street Snohomish.

We stopped for lunch at Andy’s Fish House. The Pacific Northwest has the best seafood. I had chowder, salad and a piece of cod. My aunt had fish and chips. It was delish!

Oto Sushi
While I’m posting about food, I had sushi with my BFF from college at Oto Sushi near my brother’s house. This was called “Skinny Girl Roll” because it didn’t have rice. It was so fresh and yummy.
View from my brother's patio.
View from my brother’s patio overlooking a small lake. It’s a gorgeous home and location. Notice they have one of my flamingos in the backyard!
Nephew playing piano

My nephew played Moonlight Sonata and Für Elise as a tribute to my mom. He used his Covid shutdown days to learn piano!

13 Coins Seatac
The counter at 13 Coins, one of my mom and dad’s favorite restaurants when I was growing up.

My aunt and I spent the night at SeaTac airport after our adventure in Robe Valley and Snohomish. Next door to our hotel was 13 Coins which was a favorite memory of mine with my mom. My aunt said it was a place she and her husband frequented in the 1970s. Sitting at the counter is more exciting than in the booths, because it’s where all the cooking takes place.

13 Coins Seatac
The line action at 13 Coins by the Seattle airport.
brother with two sisters
Mom, her older brother and my aunt who is 11 years younger than Mom.

My aunt shared a small scrapbook she made for my mom’s 70th birthday. This was a photo in it that I loved.

cat on a suitcase
Olive immediately attacked my suitcase when I came home. She made the suitcase her perch for hours.

Thanks for taking a look at my week in the Pacific Northwest.

Beware the Ides of March

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Mom and me in the 1990s.
My mom and me in the 1990s.

Today would have been my mother’s birthday. The Ides of March. (Mom died New Year’s Day.) Today I’m going to my brother’s house and we will reminisce and have dinner with family including my mom’s little sister who is 13 years younger than mom.

My mom often told me that she raised her little sister.

My cousin wrote me a loving sympathy letter that included a funny story I had never heard before about Mom, my aunt (my cousin’s mom) and red squares.

My aunt had a friend over and my mom, as the older sister, had them in a competition to earn red cloth squares. I’m not sure what ages they were, but Mom had them busy doing chores. They would earn a red cloth square for finishing their chore first.

I talked to my aunt about it and she said whoever earned the most red squares won the grand prize. She said she wanted the grand prize more than anything!

She won — and the grand prize turned out to be a bigger red cloth square.

Mom was a strong Christian and I have memories of her giving us a Bible verse each morning. She typed hundreds of them on 3 1/2 by 2″ cards.

She was big on chores and that’s one thing I despised the most coming home from school. We’d come home to an empty house, as latch key kids when Mom was earning her degree in Music at the University of Washington. She already had a degree in Home-Ec Education. Mom would leave a legal-sized yellow sheet of college-ruled paper with both sides filled with chores to be done before she got home. She had an ineligible scrawl that was hard to read.

I realize now, she not only wanted dinner cooked, the dishes done, the house vacuumed, the garage swept (you get the idea) — she was keeping my brother and I out of trouble. She was keeping us busy.

Tomorrow we spread her ashes at our riverfront property.

Here’s a photo of her in her teens or early twenties at the river.

What chores did you have growing up? Did you have your children do chores too?

A funny memory

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bobcat
A bobcat in our backyard. I’ve seen this one lately, but haven’t gotten a new photo.

When I was first married and moved to the Palm Springs area, I worked for a Public Relations agency.

We were housed in a small building named for Bob Hope on a hospital campus that has President Eisenhower’s name. A number of rich and famous were associated with the hospital including Frank Sinatra and Bob Hope.

One of the accounts we worked on was the Bob Hope Classic, a golf tournament that raised millions for local charities.

The first year I was working the Classic, I answered the phone and got a request from Rick Dee’s secretary that he’d like to play in the tournament. At the time, Rick Dees was a local Los Angeles DJ. It was before he went national. I had moved from Washington state and never heard of him. I told the woman on the other end of the phone, “No.”

We were well into organizing the tournament and I didn’t think we could allow more players.

Next, I got a call from Rick Dees himself. I told him no. He called back two more times and I hung up on him!

One of my co-workers overheard and asked, “Who were you talking to?”

“Some guy named Rick Dees. He wants to play in the Classic and he called me three times!”

“You hung up on Rick Dees?”

The boss immediately found Rick Dees number and called him back and apologized. Guess what? He was allowed to play in the tournament.

Fast forward six or seven years, and I was at the Classic with my husband, who had our one- year-old son on his shoulders. We walked along the golf course and I spotted Rick Dees.

I walked up to him and said “I’m the woman who hung up on you years ago.”

He laughed and said he remembered. My husband asked for his autograph. Rick Dees was friendly and signed my son’s baseball cap.

What are some of your funny memories during your early working years?