Our
pantry
Gen: Built into the right side near the door was the ice box with a funny handle.
There was a door to access it from the outside but we never saw it opened.
We used it for all our cans. The little cans like tuna, we put up on a small
inner "shelf", but sometimes they fell back down into the place that was supposed
to hold the ice and we never saw them again ...I wonder if they are still
there...
Below was a 2 part cabinet; one part was for brown paper bags and the other
part was for wax paper and Reynolds wrap. Up above was the bread box not used
for bread but for papers that mom kept. Behind the bread box was the "dreaded"
Ping-Pong Paddle. It was really only mom who thought we dreaded it but the
threat of it actually fueled some of our late-night "laughing sprees."
Behind the door was the awkward wooden ironing board with a dozen covers...always
falling over and opening up when we tried to hide behind the door. Mom says
there was a place behind that door that she never painted over. In pencil
was scrawled "sometimes mom is not the best mom in the world"
Along the left wall was the mangle that mom used for ironing tablecloths and
pillowcases but it was especially good for standing on to reach the light
string or the third shelf to get the corn flakes down. To the left of the
corn flakes were light bulbs, I think. The shelf below held the green Melmac
dishes. The saucers were dark green and square. But I remember with special
fondness all the corn flakes I ate in those light green cereal bowls.
One time I sent in 25¢ and a Kellogg's box top for plastic frogmen.They
looked so cool on TV...they blew up ships and everything! I waited
so long for them and when they finally arrived I was sorely disappointed....all
you did was fill them up with baking soda to and they floated to the top
of the bathtub. BIG DEAL!
On the first shelf was the old mix master with its big milky-white bowl filled
with the holy socks that needed darning by grandma. .
And on the back wall were 3 big drawers. In the first drawer was a maroon
plaster mask mom had made of her friend, Phyllis.... I always thought it was
a little spooky because she looked so dead. In earlier years it was on the
back porch wall. Then it moved to the pantry on top of the drawers. And lastly
into the drawer right next to a black wooden tray painted with bright flowers.
The third was the ironing drawer. We never saw the bottom of that drawer and
we usually grew out of the clothes before they were ironed anyway and then
I think it became the rag drawer.
On top of the drawers was the waffle iron that was a secret hiding place for
the boy's rubber band collection. Secret, that is, until mom decided one day
to make waffles and brought it out and plugged it in and did not look inside.
It was ugly and extremely smelly but we all thought it was very funny. (Second
only in hilarity to the famous yellow dishpan in the oven incident.)
Also on top was a set of old tin canisters with blue flowers. The biggest
one held our clay. We played with it often and made little people, log cabins
and various inventions . (I liked making mothers with babies inside so I could
perform cesareans on them).
A nice big window let in a lot of light in the daytime even though it only
looked out onto the Boodin's brick wall. On the windowsill was a decanter
filled with popcorn kernels. That same decanter sits on mom's kitchen counter
today and it might even have the same 50 year old popcorn kernels... though
I'm sure they've been washed every spring.
Marie:
I remember the mangle in the pantry. I always thought it was strange that
Mom would say that she was going to "mangle" the sheets!
I remember the icebox that was used to store canned goods. I especially remember
the cans of peas. And how you hated peas!! It wasn't til I was an adult that
I ate them much -- it was when I discovered that peas are crispy and GREEN,
not olive gray green globs of play dough with cellophane "skins".
I DO remember the maroon mask, but not much else about the contents of the
drawers. Seems to me the shelves went up forever and I don't even remember
any light fixture in the ceiling.
I thought the handles and catches on the icebox and its two lower compartments
were really neat.
OK,
now let's do...
The Dining Room
What do you remember about that. I loved the windows and the light switch.
And the wood paneling. And the breakfront and Mom's silverware -- except when
I had to polish it.
I really like the crystal candle holders - the cube-shaped faceted ones. I
found one in a flea market in Africa, but it was in the only box that was
lost when I moved back to the USA.
Remember Mom's tea set. I used to polish it so I remember that very well.
Her breakfront was beautiful and Mary takes good care of it. I remember the
chairs - sort of.
Mostly I remember the rich polished wood, and its nice smell. No mo tok tok,
Lavem Bigsista
Gen: Yeah! I forgot about the cellophane skin on those canned peas
...eeww...the way they slid off the mush of the pea. Just the smell of them
would make me nauseous. YUCK
The
Dining room...yes, those 4 round push-button switches...I used
to love pushing them in and out and wasn't there also one by the basement
door?
I remember: The worn dark red velvet upholstery on the chair under the light
switches that was MY chair for my first communion clothes and how I got dressed
out there before anyone else.
(I was cold standing out there in my undershirt.)
Mom's tea cups and saucer collection above on the railing....and the big flowers
on the wallpaper. The white sheer ruffled curtains on the windows. (And when
grandma washed hers she put them on a stretcher in her dining room...do you
remember that?)
The warm radiator and the brown metal cover on it with a design of holes.
The gray carpet that Dinky chewed a hole in the middle of...and then the carpet
moved into our room with the hole hidden under my bed.
The beautiful oval crocheted tablecloth of butterflies that grandma made.
The way we could run around through the doors in mom's room. How we hardly
ever finished a meal together in the dining room because one of us would invariably
do something to tick dad off...and when the offender was sent to the kitchen
someone would snicker about it... and that one would be sent away...and soon
we were all giggling in the kitchen.
And I remember a wrapped present on the buffet one year...I was just about
eye level with it. It was from you and it had a fat gray velvety tail sticking
out. I was so impressed that you even GOT me a present, much less so cleverly
wrapped it! Hey...isn't this fun?
Marie: That was great! How about...The
Bathroom next
I remember the bathtub. I really liked those feet, and
all kinds of things could hide under the bathtub -- like my snakes that were
always getting loose and roaming about the house.
I like the faucets and spout -- used to stick my toe in the spout when taking
a bath because it kept me from sliding around as I read a book. (One of the
best places to read a good book is in a steaming hot bubble bath.) Liked the
way the room filled with steam.
I remember one of the boys climbing up on the sink to look at himself in the
mirror and falling off the sink. I remember the sink that time you brought
your hamster to me; he had been crushed in the door and was bleeding badly.
I gently cleaned his wounds over that sink, but I couldn't save him.
I remember the patterned window over the bathtub -- it had little swirls.
The medicine chest didn't have much in it by today's standards:
aspirin, thermometers, bandaids. We were a (except for your asthma) a pretty
healthy bunch of kids!
OK, now your turn.
Gen: I remember: The blue
and white octagon-shaped tiles in the floor that determined that
the bathroom always had to be that shade of blue! Here is a photo of me drying off Dinky after his bath.
The Halo shampoo behind the curtain.
The space behind the bathtub that was home to THE SPIDERS
and their egg sacs. Only a few times in my life was I brave enough to look
back there and they ALWAYS were there. So I took rather quick baths.
I remember that I could fit my little boompa down into the
toilet bowl and touch the water.... much to the delight to the boys who would
insist I show their friends...that and my other little trick...turning my
bellybutton inside out.
And I would sit on that toilet and practice saying "Gay Parree"
and roll my throat muscles in the proper French manner.
Another fun experiment I often did was to wet a very tiny
clump of toilet paper and stick it on the wall behind the toilet to see how
long it would stick there. It never stuck more than a few days till I finally
figured out mom always cleaned it off. (She must have wondered why there was
always little clumps of dried up toilet paper on the wall)
The blessed lock on the door...how many times it saved me
from a mad dad or brother.
The pull strings on the lights on either side of the medicine
cabinet. And the ledge above the medicine cabinet. Mom hardly ever cleaned
up there so it was a pretty safe place to hide things tho it was often yucky
with dust....come to think of it do you suppose Bob was trying to feel up
there when he fell off the sink?
Remember the flat round silver thing in the floor between
the sink and bathtub with the raised six-sided big-bolt-like thing on it?
Now I realize it must have been the clean out trap but then I thought it was
a plug of some sort and wondered why we didn't open it when the toilet overflowed....which
was such a common occurrence that at times it took great courage to flush
it.
This is great fun...what room is next?
OK this is Bob:. I hated canned peas, too. I remember
when Dad went into the pantry early one weekend morning and stepped in Dinky's
(Yogi's?) stuff. Squish, right between the toes.
I liked the pantry, though. And grandpa's upstairs with the
big Italian cheeses hanging.
The dining room table was of course made famous by the chases
around it, culminating in Ray's famous "Hey Vince!" line. I assume you know
that story.
I do remember that we did have several good meals there where
Mom tried to teach us manners. The wood was nice, too.
All you say about the bathroom seems familiar. By the way,
my recollection of how I fell out of sink was simply that I was standing in
it and tried to open the medicine cabinet door, which of course opened right
into me and over the side I went. I was not checking out any hiding places,
nothing that sophisticated. Until this message, I didn't
know anything about the hiding places you describe.
The bathroom tub was grand. But wasn't it odd that we never
had a shower. Well that's it for me. Maybe Ray can help. We're both working
our butts off. The hope is that if work hard enough not only can support our
families but also perhaps our butts will get small enough so we can once again
have them touch the water, like Gen could. That would be great. Love, Bob
Marie:, Yes, this is great fun! OK, how about...
The Back Porch
I remember, that for a time, it was my bedroom. I really liked that room.
Remember the white-painted brick wall that had a window opening
to the kitchen. (I remember the boys sitting on that ledge when they were
about a year old, and one of them smacking the other in the head with a rubber
hammer. Drew blood, he did!)
I liked all the windows and the wooden furniture that had log-like handles.
Even the desk that was hard to open.
I especially liked that room when I was in my herpetologist
phase -- lots of room on top of the dresser, desk, etc. for aquariums. Do
you remember the beautiful tiger salamander that Uncle Herb gave me? He was
courting Aunt Delly at the time, and sure knew how to get me on his side!!
I remember some of my snakes shedding their old skins and
how lovely they were with their new skins. There was a crack in the wall where
one of my escaped chameleons hid out. One time I grabbed his tail and it broke
off and kept wiggling. Yikes!!
Another time I had to remove unshed skin from one of my lizard's
eyes because he couldn't see. It happens sometimes according to the source
of lizard wisdom - the keepers at Lincoln Park Zoo that I pestered continuously.
They told me how to do: sterilize a needle, then insert it gently into the
old skin covering the eye, and remove it. And so I did it; I was so proud
of my first surgical case -- and the lizard made an uneventful recovery.
Remember the radiator there. I think maybe you got your arm
stuck behind it once during a party. (Or was that me?) One of us did, and
the other got her barrette clip stuck between her teeth.
I remember that Dinky decided that it was his job to wake
me each morning: first he would make music with his paws on the venetian blind,
and if I tried to ignore him, he would lick my face until I was awake. I think
he also like to chew on the flooring in that room when he was a puppy; it
must have been tasty.
Your turn, Lovem, Big Sista
Gen: Oh good the Back Porch.
I remember way far back to when there were TWO windows on
the south side and Nikki and I were looking out of one and calling "Glockly
Girl" to Rosemary Burlingquette.
I just remembered the radiator pipe that went up to grandma's
we tried using it as a fireman's pole. You could shimmy up it in your bare
feet (when it wasn't hot) and slide down WOW! We were so agile!
Wasn't the floor originally purple? Then green squares? And
finally mom tiled it (and the kitchen) with white tiles with little gray and
black flecks. I remember it so well because mom let ME pick it out. I was
so impressed that she did that!
Remember the funny flip-latch on the door?
Was there a transom over the door to the kitchen? And over
the back door?
And yes, that furniture with the "log handles" (great description)
and the stuck desk. Did you know that dad still has them? I remember Nikki
and the boys used to play silly-silly land in the chiffarobe or maybe they
only stored their drawings there. And the top drawer was the glove drawer.
Yes, all your aquariums on top and the multiple guppy fish
bowls and my turtle bowls and ant farm.
Do you remember when one of our guppies was born with no skin?
All his insides were exposed. He only lived a short time and got the honor
of being buried with a funeral!
My dear turtles, how I loved them! I used to kiss them all
the time and probably had a perpetual case of salmonella which would explain
my constant stomachaches.
And remember our amazing
birds? Cheeky and his first wife Peety, who died of pneumonia
and poor guy never really sang again. And Perry! what a character he was...one
day he just walked out the open window and never came back. We really
should devote an entire session just for our birds since we're in the
back porch. How 'bout that next?
Marie: I remember Peety. She was my Christmas
gift when I was about 7. I wanted a canary for Christmas that year, and told
everyone I knew (including Santa) that was the ONLY thing I really wanted.
(I had asked for skates the year before and didn't get them so I really tried
to guilt-trip Santa that year.) I was sooo happy on Christmas morning to find
her. (I think maybe we thought she was a he; we kept trying to get her to
sing, but of course she wasn't interested.)
Then I worried that Peety might be lonely, and so we got
Cheeky. By then we had figured out that Peety was a female so we made very
sure that Cheeky was male. Bought him a "training" record that featured a
Caruso of a canary singing along to "Skater's Waltz". He got the idea right
away and became Peety's Pavaroti. Used to sing to her for hours.
In due course Peety began trying to make a nest. So we bought
a wire nest armature so that if she wasn't particularly talented at nest-building
her eggs wouldn't fall out and break. She laid eggs from time to time but
they never hatched. Mom even tried to incubate the eggs in the pantry the
way a breeder had instructed, but to no avail.
Peety finally died, but Cheeky lived on for quite a few years
afterward. Never sang again though after his love died.
I remember that parakeet. I really liked his plastic cage
-- seemed like such a pretty cage - looked like gelatin. Never was very fond
of the bird because he would nip. (Peety and Cheeky always nibbled gently
from my fingers.) Remember the Java sparrows with their big red beaks. They
looked goofy, but nice -- but none of the birds were ever as special as Peety
and Cheeky!
Gen: , I don't remember a plastic cage! I thought
they both were wire. Perry didn't bite...maybe you're thinking of that blue
parakeet (I forgot the name). Perry was green and YOU got him from a strange
old lady with flour-powdered face and big red lipstick you met on the street
and she asked you if you wanted a parakeet...at least that's the story you
told...was it true?
He never talked but he did do a funny thing that I showed
Uncle Gene. If you wiggled your finger when he was on it and you made those
little parakeet sounds to him he would get all excited and start wiggling
his tail and jabber ever more feverishly at your finger ...then suddenly he
would stop, arch his head up with his eyes looking all glassy (you could see
the whites of his eyes then) and fly away. And he left on your finger... a
little white puddle. When I showed Uncle Gene he seemed a little embarrassed....not
at all impressed by this cool trick!
All our birds knew how to get out of their cages: they just
pulled down the elastic-edged flowered fabric seed-catcher that mom made for
their cages and flew out. They would go from the back porch to the chandelier
in the dining room and back.
Pinky was Cheeky's second wife and we had a marriage ceremony
for them but she's the one who pecked his eyes til he became blind. But still
he flew around because he knew the house so well. Then one day we found him
in the paws of that stray black cat we had for a few weeks. Pinky was fluttering
around the cat's head and squawking furiously trying to save Cheeky. We were
impressed that she tried so hard to save him ..she must have loved him after
all.
Unfortunately, about a week later we came home to yellow feathers
scattered about and two little feet under the dining room table. But Cheeky
was safe in his cage and lived to a ripe old age of ...13?
I had forgotten about the Java birds didn't you bring them
home from school for the summer?
Gen: Hey
big Sista let's do...
The Little Hallway
Remember our old black rotary phone ( Edgewater 4-5759 )
with the gangly black cloth covered wire? It sat on that little mahogany phone
table with the space for the phone books in the shelf under. And wasn't
there kind of a fancy rim around the top three sides?
On the wall there were lots of family pictures but the only
one I remember was of Grandpa Payette and Uncle Frank.
On the opposite wall was that round thing with the hole that
was once used as an intercom to the basement and to grandma's. I always wished
it still worked, it seemed like such a cool thing!
But one of my favorite memories of our old house is standing
right by that intercom thing and looking towards the front room at Christmas-time.
I saw the Christmas tree lights reflected in the varnished woodwork of the
wide slanted doorway between the dining room and the front room. It seems
strange that those colored reflections are so indelibly imbedded in my mind
and that I loved them so. I used to stand for long periods of time just soaking
them in (for me, that was probably just a few minutes). I felt great comfort
in just knowing that the lights were on and that all was well.
I once tied a string to my tooth (remember my three front
teeth?) and then to the kitchen door and sat down on the floor in the
hallway and waited for someone to open the door and yank out my tooth.
I had heard that you could do that and it seemed like a better idea than
going to the dentist. The only problem was that when someone came and
opened the door, it crashed into me 'cause that's the way the door opened.
DUH!
Marie: Yes, I remember the black rotary phone
and our phone number (Edgewater 4-5759) but I also remember that we had an
earlier, shorter number and a black phone that had a flat bar (instead of
2 plastic rods) that the phone rested on when not in use.
I remember thinking, when we got Edgewater 4-5759, that the
number was so long I would probably not be able to remember it.
Yes, I remember tieing a string to a loose tooth and fastening
it to the doorknob. Grandma Ferrara told me how to do, but the trick was
in selecting the moment to attach the string. It didn't work unless the
tooth was only hanging by a bit of flesh - when you had worked it so loose
that if you had bitten into an apple it would have come out anyway.
Gen: , is it time yet to do another
room? how 'bout...
The Front Hall
Remember the doorbells? Grandma's was full and robust but ours was little
and flat. I hated ours because it reminded me of my little breasts (or lack
of).
Remember how grandma would give us 1¢ for bringing up her mail? The mailboxes
had tiny little slits and usually the mail just stuck out, but sometimes a
letter would get pushed down into the box and then it was very difficult to
get it out!
I don't remember ever having a key to open the door but instead
we would get a small thin object like an opened paper clip and poking thru
the holes we had to work the letter up to the opening and pull it out.
I vaguely remember a light above with a pull-chain. Then
there was that beautiful stained glass window. Was it flowers?
The floor was the same kind of tile as in the bathroom but
the flowers were black instead of blue.
And the doors into the apartments had those beautiful beveled
glass windows!
Marie; You remember more of the front hall
than I do. I remember the beveled glass door to the front porch, and the magnificent
beveled and leaded glass door to our apartment. And I remember that there
was a stained glass window as well, but I don't remember what it depicted,
but there was a ledge there, I think.
Yes, I remember those breast-shaped door bells, and the one-way
mailboxes, and the hexangonal black and white tiled floor.
There was a light there too, above the mailboxes I think -
or was it in the ceiling in the middle of the hallway? The wood paneling went
only to eye-level didn't it? Or did it go to the ceiling?
Outside
Marie: Do you remember the front porch. There used to be swing there in summertime
when you were little. I remember sitting in the swing waiting for the Good
Humor man, then eating a delicious root-beer popsicle.
Remember the drain on the front porch - there wasn't anything in it except leaf bits.
Remember the "banisters" that were more like cement lounge
chairs. We'd lie on them on autumn evenings and watch the leaves burn. Burning
leaves have a wonderful smell, though the smoke sometimes burned our eyes.
Remember lying out watching the night hawks swoop through
the sky, and occasionally a bat - they flew much more erratically so it was
easy to tell them apart.
Remember when the bricks were cleaned and we discovered we
were living in an orange-brick house instead of a brown-brick house. I didn't
like that at first, especially because the orange bricks clashed with Mom's
pink roses -- but after a year or two the color mellowed and it was OK.
Do you remember the elm trees that grew in front; they were
killed by Dutch Elm Disease and had to be chopped down, but you might be too
young to remember them. Mom was very upset about losing those trees.
Do you remember the lilies of the valley in our gangway? And
the caterpillars (yellow with red heads) in the crevices of the building next
door. We used to collect them and throw them into the piles of burning leaves,
then listen to them sizzle and pop. Later, when my environmental conscience
developed, I really felt very very guilty about that.
Wonder if that is why I subsequently developed a phobia about
"insects" -- I enjoyed them intellectually, but freaked if they jumped on
me. If so, the fear was a late development, because I remember feeding assorted
bugs to you. In particular, I remember one day that we were in the backyard.
You were a toddler standing in your playpen and wearing a sun suit and a bonnet.
I hunted for yummy bugs - mostly in the flocks, and alongside Ramsey's garage.
I wasn't being mean to you - I loved you, you liked the taste of most of them
and were as insatiable as a baby bird!
Gen: YOU FED ME BUGS!! Maybe that's why I'm so fascinated
by them...they were my first good food!
Yes, I loved the front porch but don't remember the swing...only
the hooks on the ceiling and the stories. I liked the ceiling with its tongue
and groove planks.
We climbed all over that porch inside and outside as well
as the apartment next door and Pierce school. I remember wanting desperately
to jump over to Vesta's porch but never did muster the courage in real life.
But I always had those flying dreams and the only way I could
get enough height to take off was from the top cement ledge....but that was
only in my dreams.
I remember playing "school" and the stairs were
the grades.
In winter we rode our sleds down the stairs until it was
discovered that we chipped the cement with the sled rungs. Then we sledded
down the cement stairs of an unknown person across the street.
I do remember those beautiful caterpillars. We collected dozens
of 'em. Mom remembers doing a wash in the ringer washer and all the caterpillars
rising to the surface from Nikki's pockets.
Weren't we lucky to have experienced gangways? (What a
funny word) Remember playing "Alligator"? The best time to play
was after supper when it was starting to get dark and the night hawks
were calling. And the best places to hide were Diane Mason's gangway with
that really neat bi-level place and the Furman's
gangway and inner courtyard.
How about our incinerator! With its old rickety wooden fold-back
top! We used to just sit up there talk about whatever it is that kids talk
about and then we would climb on Mr. Ramsey's garage roof from the Pussy Willow
tree. Remember how the poor garbage men had to pull out the garbage with big
rakes? And what a mess they left!...no wonder we had rats.
Living Room
Marie: I loved the glass-doored bookcases - loved the smell and feel of the books. Those books were much more interesting than the ones we were given at school. Wasn't 'til much later that I realized they were the classics -- which made literature classes a breeze because I'd already read them. Not sure how old I was when Dad let me read Mein Kampf and then the Hilter Youth Handbook - carefully pointing out their fundamental errors in logic and how truth could be distorted; he really taught me "logic" at a very early age.
But most of all I loved the huge globe on its stand in the far corner of the living room. I used to put my finger on the globe, spin it and wherever my finger was when the globe stopped spinning was "it". Then I'd get the World Book out and read about the place. Of all the places I wanted to see, Port Moresby, New Guinea was at the top of the list. I've visited/lived in 42 countries but still haven't gotten to Port Moresby! Maybe next year.
Remember when the sunlight hit the prisms of leaded glass doorway just right how the room was flooded with "rainbows". It was glorious.
Gen: .My memory of the books in the bookcases is only being allowed to dust them...not to actually read them because they were dad's. But I used to love jumping off the bookcases onto the couch. And hanging upside down from the fireplace. I also liked hanging from the doorway of our bedroom in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep....pretty wierd, eh?
How about the mahogany Philco TV cabinet? You opened the doors and there was the record player on the left side and the tiny oval TV screen (...wasn't it only 8" or 10"?) on the right side and th e radio below that. I think our only kid's record was "The 12 Dancing Princesses" which we played a lot. What early TV programs do you remember? I remember the Buster Brown Show and of course Flash Gordon and his spaceship that looked like a blimp.
Remember the "commodes", the 2 end tables on either side of the couch. Mom stored cards in the top drawer of the one closest to the bookcase. The boys temporarily kept the torn shred of clothing of the man who blew up in the top drawer of the other one.
Over the radiator was great, great Aunt Ada's beautiful rose painting...now in my room.
Remember how Yogi always locked the front door by pushing over the latch thing and you had to keep him jumping up in the hope he would eventually push it back? Why didn't we ever just get another kind of latch?