Flashback Friday: When Old Was New

Mocha with Linda has done it again, she's come up with another great prompt! How does she do this on a weekly basis? Those of us who are trying to research and remember our childhood days are very grateful.

What new inventions or technology came out when you were growing up that you remember being amazed at? Were your parents "early adopters"--did they get the "latest and greatest" pretty quickly or did they stick with the "tried and true"? What are some things that you remember being a big deal when your family got them? (These may be items like stereos or kitchen equipment or bigger things such as carpet.) Were your folks prone to updating their furniture periodically or did they keep their old furniture forever? How was the way they were raised impact the way you were raised? And how did your upbringing influence the way you are today?

 I began by googling the inventions of the fifties. Though I was born in the forties, my memory and awareness probably go back to the 50s. I thought. However, as I looked at the images, I realized that the things our family had in Argentina were a decade or two behind the times.

For example, phones.
In 1950, "Telephone Answering Machine created by Bell Laboratories and Western Electric." No way. Not for us, not even a phone. The waiting list was long. When we finally got one we were among the privileged few in the neighborhood. We did not use the phone often, it was more for emergencies. I remember three things: it hung on the wall, you had to crank it, dial and yell! It was on the left wall as soon as you walked in the house at the bottom of the stairs. This is the closest image I could find.

"TV color broadcasting began in 1953." Are you kidding? We never had a television throughout all of my growing up years.

For the longest time we had a Maytag wringer washer.

When my parents tried to import a washer and dryer, it was held in customs forever. The agents were waiting/hinting/expecting a bribe. My father's conscience would not allow him to go that route, so we never recovered those appliances.
Many expatriates now consider bribing a cultural necessity. What do you think?

Do any of you have one of these egg beaters in your kitchen?

I don't any more. But this old photo proves my mother had one back then when I was very small.

Among the 'oldies' I found a photo of my father in the print shop they ran when serving in the Bible Institute in later years after I had left for college. I wondered how the equipment they used back then would compare to today's.


 My father was always a handyman. He could build or fix most anything. So, no matter what the age or condition of his tools, I know he would have been resourceful enough to make them work.

He built much of our furniture, so no, they were not prone to updating their home decor often.
Both of my parents were raised to be thrifty and hard working. Mother was a preacher's kid in a family of six brothers and sisters. Dad had nine siblings. The family was very poor, yet remarkably all, or most of them, went on to higher education.

My missionary upbringing has definitely influenced the way I live: I don't waste anything and can make do and be creatively resourceful...to a fault.

Oldest remains found in Hondarribia

In fact, oldest remains of fruit trees...

The article linked above came to my attention today, Monday, first day of the week, coinciding with my desire to get back to our Adventures in Europe series, and write as often as possible.
"Finish what you start" is an oft repeated piece of advice from experienced and successful writers. So, I am grateful for the gentle nudge and the memories evoked.

First of all, I looked up two of the fruits mentioned that I had never heard of: sloes and medlar. Do you know what they are? I found these pictures on the internet.


Sloes



Medlar

The opening paragraph mentions the historic old quarter of the city, and that's where my reminiscing took off.

Researchers have found that the seed samples gathered over the years at medieval archaeological sites in the historic old quarter of Hondarribia are the remains of the oldest fruit trees in Southern Europe.

Our first full day in Hondarribia, which I began to describe here, Laurie and I wandered up to the historic old quarter surrounded by an ancient massive wall. We wound up and around the back entrance to the grand Parador Hondarribia.

 Then came around the other side to the entrance of the medieval-fortress-turned-modern hotel.

As we climbed we looked out over the water and could see the shores of France.

If you choose to lodge there, and have the means, Parador El Emperador offers views of the surrounding area from the highest point in the city. And you will be staying in the castle where Napoleon and other notable historic figures stayed.

I have no idea where the archaeobiologists found the seeds of ancient origins. However, here is one big old tree we saw in a small plaza of the old historic quarter.

We were so fascinated by every aspect and detail, that we totally lost track of time. We were brought short by a phone call, and rushed across the bridge over the ancient moat to meet our hostess.

"Esas mujeres americanas."  (Those American women.) (*smile*)

Mid January

What direction is life taking halfway through the first month?
I made no new year's resolutions, but I do have some hopeful goals.

By the end of last week, the Colts were out of the playoffs, so now we follow the Green Bay Packers, after all we were married in Milwaukee, two family members were born in Oshkosh, and all Mike's family lives in Wisconsin. In fact, we're watching the Packer vs. Falcons game as I write.

Last Sunday morning, after the Colts' loss the night before, our overnight guests began to leave. We persuaded our DIL to stay for breakfast and church. She had come prepared to make us her wonderful egg sandwiches. As often happens with great meals, I enjoy the food so much and forget to take a picture before we dig into it.

Here we are nourishing both body and spirit. Mike discovered the Daily Audio Bible at the very start of the year and we've been listening to the readings every day during breakfast. We like the dynamic delivery and the sense of community.

Other routines at this time: Mike teaching pottery at the Red Barn MWF, and robotics TRS. I am spending time each day writing.


Mentor Mike teaching young minds how to solve problems.
(Photos of Team 1720 The Phyxtgears )

Mike often wakes up very early when he has so much on his mind. But then, midday he'll take a nap on the big sofa and I on the love seat.

Mike snapped this photo, not very flattering but it's me in real life. I love the flexibility of retirement.

When a writer stares out the window, it does not mean the mind is idle. A side benefit of those thinking times is to catch glimpses of outdoor life and beauty.

This squirrel has been building a nest all week. We don't know exactly where, or why he carries his building materials so far, all the way around the house.

 I tried three new recipes this week and was very pleased with the results, but alas, only one photo, and part way through the meal. The quesadillas de camarones were very tasty, muy sabrosas.

Another regular each week is the meal at Chef-son's. He was in Virginia all weekend  competing in an important ice carving event. Monday he arrived home at 6:15 p.m. and had a wonderful meal on the table an hour later.
My camera was not cooperating, so a phone pic will have to suffice.

Stephan wearing his long-awaited gold medals

One of the winning sculptures (photo borrowed from the Indiana Ice Studio on Facebook)--stylized cheetah.


Kinesis

Another, not so happy, family happening was an accident on an icy road. We are very grateful that Jimmy got out alive, and that Kayla was not driving at the time.

That sums up our week.

Flashback Friday: School Discipline

I haven't participated in this weekly exchange of memories for a while now, mostly because the topics did not apply to my experience. For example, How did you celebrate Christmas at school? I didn't, it was during summer break. And also because I had no recollection of things like, Christmas presents, what, when, how, etc.

This week, however, in my attempt to get back into a writing routine, I chose an unforgettable episode of my growing up years that applies to the marked section of the prompt.

How strict were teachers when you were in school? What were common methods of discipline? No recess? Writing sentences? Being sent to the principal's office? Were "pops" or "swats" allowed? Did you ever get in "big" trouble at school? If so, what was it for and what happened to you? Were you ever suspended from school? If you got in trouble at school, what happened at home? Was school lunch a pretty relaxed environment or was discipline maintained in the cafeteria as well? If you are a teacher, what have you vowed never to do as a result of your experiences growing up?

After some hesitation, I decided to share it with you:

“What have you done?” asked my mother as soon as she saw us. I came back from school very early, red-eyed, tear-stained AND accompanied by my boyfriend. Why was I not in school? Why so distressed? And what was he doing there anyway? We didn't go to the same school, or at least not at the same time.


Our budding adolescent attraction had not gone unnoticed by my parents. I knew they disapproved. Their fear and worry was evident. They could not forbid us to date, that social custom did not exist in Argentina as we know it in the U.S, nor could they keep us from participating in youth group events and outings. As young people we were quite involved in ministry. We used to travel, five or six of us, by train to a neighboring town, then walk to an open area where I began to play the accordion, the children gathered and we taught them Bible lessons.

What my parents did not know was that J and I were seeing each other more and more often outside of those planned times. J lived around the corner from my house, a mere two short blocks away. He waited for me at the corner every morning and walked with me to the bus stop. There were no school buses, we used public transport if necessary. As time went on, we spent more and more time together. He began to accompany me on the fifteen to twenty minute bus ride, and then walk with me to the school, a dozen or so blocks away even though this meant he would have to make his way back home only to turn around a few hours later and return to the same school building for his classes. The Normal school, for teachers, convened there in the morning; the college prep school system, Nacional, met in the afternoon; and there was another secondary-level institution that used the facility in the evening.

When we were apart, we left little notes in nicks in the classroom walls or tree hollows in the school yard. Usually these were rolled up bus tickets where we had written Te quiero over and over and over.

One morning J hung around longer than usual, he lingered outside the school fence and we were surreptitiously talking when the disciplinarian, the preceptora, came over, reprimanded us harshly, called me into the office and I, the perfect little student, was sent home, suspended, not allowed to return until the next day and only if accompanied by my parents. This had to be the worst day of my life.

J was waiting for me, not about to let me face parental wrath on my own. He was there to explain and take the blame. I don't know if his bravery paid off or not. We were in big trouble.

I don't think we met much after that. But our special friendship continued, albeit through many ups and downs. When the time came for my parents' furlough from missionary service, the parting from my friends, and J in particular, was very difficult.

My mother returned this painting not too long ago. It hangs on a wall downstairs by my sewing area and our bedroom, and will forever remind me of that school, the fence, and that terrible day. It is the only recovered art piece from high school days. The assignment was to find a spot in the school yard and paint what we could see from that point of view.

 I am eager to read your stories and interested in hearing from you whether you think my experience was unusual or not because of being a TCK (Third Culture Kid) growing up in another culture.

A Week Into 2011

We started the year with a new mailbox to replace the battered, burnt, knocked-down old one. We wouldn't want to miss any of your cards or letters. In this age of instant electronic communication, I am trying to keep the dying art of handwritten notes and cards alive.

Sunday afternoon son Stephan, DIL Karen, and a couple of friends (mother and son) came over to watch the Colts game with us. After the win we enjoyed waffles and blueberries with real whipped cream.

Today, even as I write, the same crowd (minus Stephan who is in W Virginia at an ice carving competition) is gathered after another Colt's game. This time we mourn their loss. It is late, bitterly cold out, our guests and their dogs have come prepared to spend the night.

Karen and Mike watching the game

Gina and David

Only two days ago we were at Gina's house celebrating Three Kings' Day. She loves this Hispanic tradition and invites friends every year. This was our first time. We contributed a Rosca de Reyes (3 Kings Cake Ring) which I bought at the Mexican store.

I assumed that it came with the little baby figurine already inside as per the tradition explained here. But, alas, when everyone had cut into the cake to the very last piece, there was no Baby Jesus, to the disappointment of the children present. However, they did enjoy breaking a piñata outdoors in 20 degree weather.
Gina is the friend who learned pottery skills from Mike. Every time they are together they talk about all their latest discoveries and accomplishments.
Last year Gina hired our son Sam, the custom woodworker, to convert a small dark room into a charming bright studio with big windows on two sides. It was fun to see both his craftsmanship and her clay creations, such as these two ornaments.

 


This week I was wanting a matching centerpiece for the dining room table, almost the first thing you see when you enter the house. Then I remembered that downstairs, in my own house, I have a whole store of Klaytivity pieces to choose from. For now, this bowl.

Mike took many samples to the Red Barn this week for the opening of the Pottery room.

He has been very occupied setting it up and quite preoccupied wondering how to go about teaching the 20+ kids who have signed up, and managing the hour and half sessions three days a week with only three wheels and fewer mentors.

Add to that, FIRST robotics build season began today and will take up the other three days he's committed to. This morning we went to the Kick Off simulcast at Ball State--the unveiling of the game in its 20th season--Logomotion.

Lead mentor, Mike, explaining the rules and strategies

  Realizing that busy days lie ahead, we used Diane's gift card Thursday to see "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader", in 3D.

Treasures from the Past

In the last week or so I received items that document family history, veritable treasures.

My brother discovered and digitized a few hundred very old family photos and slides. This week he sent me a link to access his dropbox of photos--so many documented moments and events that evoke memories and reflection!

Three of my favorite scenes show my maternal grandfather when he visited us in far away Argentina. He was a very busy Baptist minister who got away for a few weeks to travel and see first hand our family's life and work. He did this twice by becoming a chaplain on a passenger ship to South America.


Grandpa Hirschy's First Visit--La Carlota

 

Grandpa Hirschy's Second Visit--Don Bosco

Grandpa visits the church in Don Bosco

 I love seeing these. I only wish I could fill in the memories with many more details.

Then my aunt sent me a copy of Grandpa's last will and testament signed June 11, 1959, and there I read Grandpa's deepest desire for all of us his descendants.

"May there not be one of all my house, children, grandchildren and future generations, missing from the eternal kingdom of our Lord." 

Happy New Year!

The last few days of 2010

Sunday afternoon as I was taking Diane home, we went by the little church next to the cemetery and lamented the loss of its steeple blown off by the tornado a few weeks ago. Will it ever be restored to its Christmas-card charm?

The snapped trees will never be the same.

I've enjoyed the beauty of the snow-covered Indiana landscape.

As well as the glitter of a Christmas candle...

...and the message of a new gift ornament.

Brutus the cat seems to enjoy the remains of Christmas as well.

However, slowly or suddenly, change happens.

Thursday, just before 8 a.m., we experienced an earthquake that rumbled and shook our house twice a few seconds or a minute apart. Then the snow melted. By New Year's Eve the temperature had risen to nearly 60 degrees Fahrenheit! The rain held off enough to enjoy the celebration in downtown Muncie--the third annual ball drop. The robotics team that Mike mentors built this fairly elaborate ball, more sophisticated than the 2007 New York ball!

Some facts about the ball:

--60 aluminum triangles with 15 lights each, 900 total LEDs
--42" in diameter
--2 miles of wiring inside!
--2 computers to run it


Team 1720
(Photo credit--Cheryl LeBlanc)


Behind the scenes, was I, the Popcorn Queen, as friend Cheryl calls me.



El jefe

Mike has been very, very busy all week--several house projects, as well as setting up the pottery room at the Red Barn for its opening on Monday, among other things. I promise to have photos next week.