Rainy day

Happy 87th birthday to my Aunt Yvonne (Daddy’s sister)  We had a short conversation today when she was celebrating with kids, grandkids and friends.  They are, thankfully, not affected by the flooding in Florida, so that’s wonderful.  It’s a rainy, cool day today, which is lovely for snuggling in a cozy sweater with my current crochet project, which is surprising me with the pattern — I saw it online, of course, thought I’d make it, and I half expected a bit of a challenge.  It’s less complex than it looks, but I have a feeling that I’m using the wrong weight of yarn and I should use a thinner one, although I’m using the weight and needle size recommended.  Maybe it’s the colours?  I’m not sure.  The final product will be shared, and I await your comments 😊  Jerry is in a playful mood, has hidden several of his toys and is now hunting them.  Don is preparing for a “busy” night of sports-watching, and is saving his strength. 😈  I don’t mind being banished, as I’ll just crochet and lose myself in a book.

I got one of those “nostalgic” forwards today.  You know the ones; they go on about how “the kids of the 50s, 60s, 70s and 80s had the best childhoods.”  I do have fond memories of my youth and childhood, that’s true, most of which relate to time spent with my siblings and cousins.  My parents were quite protective of us, something I didn’t fully realize until after I’d moved to Canada.  We weren’t denied the opportunity to do or try new things, but we did have a minor interrogation for certain things.  Nothing unusual, but things like, “where are you going?  Who will be there?  What time will you be home?  Is your homework / chores all done?” You know, the standard stuff you’re asked before heading out.  Just to be annoying (it’s part of the job description of elder siblings) we had to answer that for parents and elder siblings (plus my grandmother and aunts) so I learned the routine to get approval and short circuit the whole third degree. My parents wouldn’t allow us to play in the street — not unreasonably, as the street where we lived was quite busy, so we played in the gardens.  (My sister was a great entomologist, and would track ants, beetles and other creepy crawlies through the shrubs)  Time with my family on my dad’s boat, or days out with family friends and their kids are among my best memories.  All that to say, though, that looking through the images of “days gone by” doesn’t necessarily spark nostalgia.  Many of the items were not things I knew… For instance, exploding “caps” or playing cricket or hoops in the street (too busy, as noted)  it’s even more pronounced with the US version, where they refer to specifically American memories of tobogganing or winter sports.  I find it sad, though, when the American meme starts referring to food… where pasta was just spaghetti, or things like SPAM or bologna cakes were mentioned.  I’m sure that those kids would have considered that curried cascadura or callalloo were unappealing (poor, deprived things!)

I’m just thinking out loud, really, that 🎼🎵 “the good old days weren’t always good, and tomorrow ain’t as bad as it seems” 🎶 🎵  I remember playground games where we ran around, usually shrieking like little steam engines, or gathered in rings, singing rhymes and chasing each other.  Some of the games I played were new to my elder sister, and unknown to my youngest, and they’re the same number of years away from me.  So it’s not unusual that the rhymes that my mother knew weren’t familiar to us, either.  I did play some with my elder niece, but the songs she knew were alien to me… Her playground memories are of different games, fewer chants, less running around and shrieking, and much more sheltered and structured.  I remember certain snacks and foods that we enjoyed as children, but which are much less appealing now (even if you could find them, which isn’t easy!)  We had more fruits, picked off trees ourselves, than my elder niece knows.  Can you imagine, she’s doesn’t really like mangoes?  Those delicious, golden, sweet bombs that just fill your mouth with happiness?  Or pomerac? They were raised on imported items like apples and grapes, which are also nice, but for us were treats only available at Christmas.  C’est la vie, isn’t it?  Today’s rambling is just to say that while I had a good childhood, with many lovely memories, I don’t necessarily feel the need to lose myself in the past, nor do I think that modern children are “missing out” because of the various protections that we’ve instituted.  There were many, many, kids who were injured because of the weaker safety laws, but they were often shifted out of sight from us.  Same with the kids who were disabled — I remember volunteering at a “home for mental deficients” (as they were called) and it was among the saddest sights of my life.  Little children who were handed over by parents to be raised by the state or church, so they wouldn’t be an embarrassment to their families.  We can overlook those things all too easily, but I think that we do need to be aware that there were many ugly things hidden behind our “golden old times.”

I’m happy to report that I am feeling hungry again, and I ate another almond tart today, along with some steamed wontons.  Quantities are still small, but at least they’re more regular getting into me!!  I’ll continue to find distractions from my scan, so that anxiety won’t interfere with my day.  The hockey game is now on, so I’m banished to the bedroom, along with the tiny dictator!  Good night!