Memories – Page 6 – Valerie's Voice

My Bassinet

I was surprised by tears the other night, when I sold our vintage baby bassinet.

The bassinet was handed down to me from my mother, and I only assume, she and my dad bought it, or were gifted with it, when I (or my brother) was born.

I’m not even sure why I became a little emotional when I put it on the front porch, because we used it more as a decoration these last three decades than for our newborns to sleep in. At one time someone suggested I put a fern in it and let the fronds drape over the sides. That sounds pretty, but I didn’t do that. Mostly I filled it with all our stuffed animals.

There is an endearing story about the stuffed animals in the bassinet. We had a sweet kitty cat named Caramel Corn (that was her coloring). She was a cat that liked people, and the indoors. When we moved to our house in Northfield, she oriented herself to her new digs. One day, shortly after we moved in, I couldn’t find her. I looked everywhere and she was not to be found. I thought, although it was highly unusual, maybe she snuck outside. So I waited, and hoped she’d find her way home.

A few hours later I went upstairs and out the corner of my eye I saw some movement towards the bassinet. I went over to check it out and to my surprise, there was Caramel Corn snuggled with all the stuffed animals in the bassinet! She looked so cozy. I was relieved she was safe and in the house.

The new buyer wanted the bassinet for that very night, but she couldn’t come at a time when we were home, so she asked if I would leave it on the porch for her to pick up. I placed the bassinet on the front porch (without the stuffed animals) and decided to trust her to leave the money under the mat (she did).

As I set the bassinet on the porch I thought of my own babies, and then about the baby that was to sleep in it that night. I figured, even if I didn’t get paid, it was a good feeling knowing a baby was going to be sleeping in the bassinet once again.

Spring Cleaning

Time for spring cleaning
It is a lot of hard work,
But satisfying.

When it’s done, I’m glad.
But, there is always more to do.
For now, it’s enough.

As spring emerges~
It’s time for new adventures.
Wonder what they’ll be?

As we were spring cleaning last week, I brought down a clown that sits on a high shelf, to dust it off. As I was dusting it, I was transported down memory lane.

This clown was from my mom’s collection. She had quite a fun collection. I wish I had taken a photo of all the different clowns she had at one time. Whenever I see a clown figurine, I think of her. She died in 2009.

I kept one of her clowns. It’s a wonderful clown, with masks that can be put on and off its face. Not only is the clown a nice remembrance of my mother, but also, it evokes fond memories from when we would go visit her when my boys were little. They would always ask grandma if they could change out the masks on that clown. She would say “yes”, and they boys would carefully put on a new mask.

After cleaning up the clown, we put it back up on the shelf, where it stands tall (ready to perform for us I think) until the next time.

Sweet Music

As we hear the horrible news of the continuing Russian invasion of Ukraine, my thoughts go out to the people I met there on three separate trips in 2004, 2005, and 2008. The main purpose of the trips were to facilitate small groups of young students in an English Language Camp. Our days were busy and tiring, but fun. We also had free time to explore the area, and socialize with adults, after the camp day ended in the afternoon.

The set up for a lovely meal together in
Cherkasy, Ukraine.

One of my fondest memories is a gathering at one of the leader’s home. There were many Ukranians present to be with our team of eight Americans. We shared a picnic-style meal together, outdoors. As the sun was setting and we were sitting around visiting, one of the Ukrainians got out his guitar and we started to sing hymns. We were singing and harmonizing the same lyrics in two different languages. I remember tearing up and thinking what a beautiful sound we were making, blending our voices together and creating sweet music. It was an emotional experience, which today elicits a peaceful and serene memory of my time with the many wonderful folks I met in the Ukraine; a beautiful and peaceful people.

My heart breaks when I think of all the destruction of lives that is ongoing. I pray for an end to the violence in Ukraine and that peace can be restored.

Newspapers

We still get a newspaper delivered to our house on the weekends. Gary especially likes to read the paper. I skim it and read articles that catch my attention. Occasionally I will read an article in the newspaper and want to share it with a friend. So, I fold in newspaper, get out of my chair, go to the drawer where we keep our scissors, unfold the newspaper and starting cutting out the article.

An interesting article in the Star Tribune, February 27, 2022.

Every time I get my scissors out and start cutting the newspaper, it brings me back to elementary school. For homework, we would have to clip news articles and bring them in to share with the class. For some reason, I enjoyed doing that, and still enjoy the act of cutting out an article today, and sharing it.

Gary enjoyed having that assignment as a kid too, and we wondered if they do that anymore in elementary school…probably not, because I would imagine most younger adults don’t get a newspaper, and if they do, they get it online. We only get the Saturday and Sunday editions of the newspaper, but that’s enough because we, too, get news online.

I have a friend who also enjoys sharing articles, and every once in a while, we send one to each other. I know now-a-days it’s easy to scan an article, but that’s not as much fun as getting the paper copy, especially via snail mail.

Gary and I also remembered getting the Weekly Reader in elementary school, which we is another assignment we both enjoyed. I remember our sons got a version of the Weekly Reader when they were in elementary school, so I’m assuming it still exists in some form these days.

Flowers

My interest in flowers did not start when I was a child. Although my mom had indoor plants and some flowers growing outside, it didn’t seem to influence me much. I do remember beautiful window boxes filled with flowers outside the large picture window in front of our house– pretty to look at from the inside as well as the outside. I must have been influenced by that. I have had flower boxes on my decks for 40+ years.

I plant petunias in my flower boxes…this deck gets full afternoon sun and petunias can take the heat! And they are colorful.

I remember my mother’s purple clematis (probably a wonderful, old-fashion Jackmanli) on the side of our house on McKinley Street, along with some other flowers.

This Jackmanli clematis grows along the side of our house in Northfield.

There may have been a small garden plot in the back corner of my parent’s yard, but I don’t remember the kinds of flowers growing there. I did not have to weed flowers, but I did have to weed around the Poplar trees that lined our back yard.

A different clematis climbing the arbor…the lilac bush is behind the hanging blue, glass ball…

My mother did plant a lilac bush and I took a small section from her bush and planted it at our house in Burnsville. When we moved from Burnsville, I took a section from that bush and planted it in our yard here in Northfield. It’s still growing and blooming after 27+ years.

Looking off our deck into our back yard. The lilac bush is near the wagon wheel by the shed.

Such lush green…so amazing to look at right now while outside snow is falling and the ground is white!

I do remember, as a child, picking some tulips from a neighbor’s garden to bring home to my mom…then I had to turn right around and go apologize to Dorothy for not asking permission to cut some of her flowers. Whoops.

Recently a prompt from a writing session led me to thinking about when my interest in flowers began. I remembered giving a friend an eight-pack of starter begonias as a housewarming gift. I have no idea why I picked begonias or how they would grow …but when I went back to her house later that summer there was pot on her front porch, blooming with beautiful begonias…the ones I had given her earlier that spring. I had no idea they would grow and fill out so much! This was back in high school. I’ve learned a lot since then.

Cone flowers in front of Quick Fire hydrangea.

My Quick Fire Hydrangea, later in the season. When this hydrangea begins blooming it has white flowers (see photo with purple cone flowers above) and changes to mauve by the end of the season.

My interest and knowledge grew when we moved into a new house with a vacant yard, almost twenty-eight years ago. As I mentioned, I have always had flower boxes to fill with colorful annuals, so we included that into our deck plans, but I created a few flower gardens, too, and have been playing in the dirt ever since.

And now I love flowers…tending to them, admiring them in gardens all over the world, and taking pictures of them…

(These photos were taken in my yard at different times and years.)

An Assignment

Write a Christmas poem.

Oh, Christmas Tree, by Valerie Bollinger

Remembering an extra special homecoming:

Bringing up the Christmas boxes from the basement.
Choosing carefully the holiday adornments.
Taking time to decorate each room.
Decorating with the grandchildren in mind.
Wanting to create for them the wonder of Christmas.

Selecting the biggest and the best Christmas tree,
Cutting it down to size to fit in the pine-sided room, 
Admiring the spruce’s perfect imperfection.
Smelling its wonderful scent,
Stringing on the lights,
Leaving off the ornaments...for now, 
Creating enchantment within our home.
Lingering in the precious moments,
Recalling cherished memories of Christmas’ past.

Waiting with excitement at the airport,
Anticipating their arrival from the international terminal.
Spotting their figures linked together...my heart skipping a beat. 
Rejoicing and giving thanks.

Pulling into the driveway at home...
Entering the house ahead of the others to turn on the tree lights...
Anticipating the joy of the little ones seeing the lighted Christmas tree. 

Coming to a standstill.
Looking in awe.
Their happy faces lighting up.
It was priceless.

Uncle Bob

My Uncle Bob passed away Friday night. Perhaps his Spirit heard the St. Olaf choir and orchestra performing beautiful music for the Christmas Festival, which we were attending that evening. He was 94 years young (my father’s younger brother by nine years.)

He was young at heart…he played tennis into his 80’s, had a great sense of humor and he was a strong man of faith. He and his wife of 71 years were wonderful folks who were loved by many. They retired to their home on 150 acres in Northern Minnesota with shoreline on Bay Lake, near Brainerd, in the 1990’s. They had three children and eight grandchildren and multiple great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren.

Uncle Bob and his beloved wife, Aunt Joyce, at their granddaughter’s cabin. August 2021

My uncle was a successful business man. He started a printing business in his basement in the 1950’s. I remember going to his house as a little girl, with my father, being downstairs among the printing equipment. Then he moved the business to a small storefront space in NE Minneapolis, before moving again to a larger building in New Brighton, as he expanded the business. He eventually sold Printcraft, and retired.

Gary and I would go up north to visit them occasionally. We stopped in and had lunch with them this summer, in August 2021. I’m so glad we did. He loved that Gary and I were both interested in the family history. He told many stories about my dad and their brother, Uncle Earl (died in 2004), and their sister, Auntie Ag (who also died in 2004). My dad died 47 years ago (1974) and Gary never met him, so it was special to hear the stories my uncle told. He became like an uncle to Gary too.

One fond memory is, for several years at Christmastime, we had a competition going…my uncle like Red River cereal, a hot cereal and a rival to the Malt-O-Meal hot cereal. When Gary started working for Malt-O-Meal we wrote limericks and read them aloud to each other on Christmas Eve. It was quite fun and something everyone enjoyed. We will reread them this Christmas.

We have many good memories of Uncle Bob. He will be missed.

May you Rest in Peace Uncle Bob.

Decorating for Christmas

Our family celebrations will not be held in our home this Christmas, so we decided to keep our house decorating to a minimum. A few touches here and there, with table clothes and poinsettia, greenery, wreath and a manger scene. However, there is a new-to-us decoration we inherited this year that I have set above the fireplace mantel that will stand in for our Christmas tree.

Last summer I inherited several boxes of my aunt’s belongings. Amongst the many photos, jewelry, dishes and Norwegian knick-knacks in the boxes, I discovered a striking jeweled Christmas tree art piece.

I remembered it. Years ago, one of my other aunt’s had made several different jewelry boxes and art pieces using glittery, costume jewelry…the kind that twinkle and sparkle, glisten and shine. All very glitzy!

When I found this Christmas tree (and a jewelry box) I asked my cousins if they wanted these pieces their mother had made; they said no. So, I decided to keep them for myself.

I admit, I do like a bit of sparkle! I love the twinkle of Christmas tree lights, rays of sunshine glistening on a lake, art glass that shines, the flicker of hot coals in a camp fire…this dazzling tree. I like the way the jewels shimmer when the light catches them (even though I can’t capture it in a photo). I like the fact that my aunt made it many years ago.

It’s an interesting – and beautiful – piece of folk-art, created by someone I loved.

I will enjoy this piece on my fireplace mantel during this Christmas season, alluring me into the Christmas spirit, and bringing back memories of my extended family of Christmas’ past.

An Assignment

I’ve posted some short essays from my writing sessions before. I’m amazed where writing prompts lead, and I’m often surprised. For this assignment, the question was: “What object in your home have you been surprised to love more and more over the years?”

It took a little while before something shimmered to the top for me. And then it did. It is a photo of my two boys running through a farm field when they were younger. I had to look up date the photo was taken. It was 1988, and the boys would have been 6 and 4. I framed this photo back then, and have had it hanging in my house since. A few years ago, I went up to St. Olaf’s print center and had another color copy (8”x10”) made of the original because the first picture I had in the frame started to fade over the years.

I have the photo hanging in a hallway and I see it often. To me it represents some of the best years of my life, when my two wonderful young sons were little boys, healthy and happy, and growing and loving. I’m nostalgic for those times, those hugs, those gone-by-too-fast days when we were all together. I’m so thankful for the memories we made together as a family, and for photos I have of those times.

This picture was taken on the family farm in Pennsylvania. The boys are full of energy, runny and healthy, carefree, and so happy together. I think that best describes their childhood.

The photo is precious and makes me smile, time after time, and has become a treasured belonging in my home.

How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity. Psalm 133:1 (NASB)

50th Class Reunions

We’ve been busy traveling the last few weeks…to the north shore and then to Pennsylvania. My husband grew up in Pennsylvania and it’s always fun to go to visit. Our last visit was in 2018 to attend a nephew’s wedding.

This year the big draw was his 50^th high school class reunion…actually his 50+1 since it was scheduled for last year (class of 1970) but was canceled due to the pandemic. It was rescheduled for October 2, near Ephrata, PA. He graduated from Ephrata High School – EHS.

My 1971 high school class reunion was scheduled for October 9, 2021 so we made sure we were back to Minnesota in time to attend my reunion. I graduated from Edison High School – EHS.

We were both reluctant to sign up for our reunions. It was the first time attending a high school reunion for both of us. As we looked at our year books we both had trouble remembering the many folks we knew so well fifty years ago. We both wondered why we were going. But we both followed through, and were glad we went.

Ephrata High School 1970 classmates at the 50th reunion.

Gary’s class was about 220 and 46 had died. He had about 60 classmates come to the reunion.

Someone from Gary’s class put together a nice display of all those who had passed away from the class of 1970.

Ephrata’s event went well…a good social hour and dinner, and then a two-piece band that played oldies from those high school years. People were dancing …including us (for a couple of songs). Unfortunately, there were no nametags at his reunion…I did not understand that decision!

My nametag. Nametags helped a lot when greeting people.

My class was about 480 and 60 had died. There were about 120 classmates that came to my reunion. The nametags for our event featured our senior class picture.

This was a display with the names and photos of the classmates who have passed away from Edison’s High School class of 1971.

The Edison class reunion also had a nice social hour and a good dinner. The alumni marching band marched in and played a few tunes. There was a short program, and there was a roll call; we stood up when our name was called. I appreciated that – it was a good way to know who was in attendance.

The Edison High School Alumni Marching Band.

The funniest thing for me was we were reminded of “Weiner Winks” a food we had in the lunch line back in the day. It was a hotdog wrapped in bread and cheese and baked in the oven.

I reconnected with several people and was surprised how many I knew (after looking at their nametag!)

There was a DJ (a classmate) playing oldies and taking requests, and some people danced.

There was a raffle…I bought one ticket, and won a beautiful hand-made travel bag.

Both of us commented on how the folks at the reunions looked old…as do we. HA!

I had decided if ever I was going to attend a reunion the 50th would be the one…I’m glad I did. I learned this will be the last organized reunion of my class.

I am reminded of a quote by Walt Whitman that seems applicable to our reunion stories….“We were together. I forget the rest.”

A small group of some classmates together, all through Kindergarten to 12th grade.

We were both glad we showed up at our reunions, and we were together again with folks who were once a big part of our lives. We’ll forget the rest.