Today’s post for 52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History made me remember something that I have to share.
In the post, I mentioned that I am not a good baker! I can cook almost any other meal but I can’t seem to bake or make desserts no matter how hard I try.
Well one night a couple of years ago my sister’s boys were coming to spend the night and I decided to serve one of the pizzas that you pick up in the deli area that are ready to bake. I followed the directions on the pizza exactly!! The pizza looked fine when it came out of the oven and I served it to the kids.
My younger nephew who was about 4 at the time ate one bite and then started talking about how much he loved his mama’s homemade pizza and how wonderful it was. :) Then, he looked straight at me and told me that I should always go to Eureka Pizza and buy mine! :) He looked so cute and then he asked if there was anything else he could eat for dinner!! His older brother joined in and asked for something else too!
I took one bite of the pizza and discovered they were right – we definitely needed something else for dinner! We had hotdogs and they were happy! So all’s well that ends well!
Family Roots and Branches: The Top Ten Indicators That You’ve Become A Gene-Aholic.
I saw this post today and just had to share it! I think I might be a Gene-Aholic! Oh Well, I have a support group (My local genealogy society!) so maybe I will survive!
We lived in several homes as I was growing up. They were all in the Northwest Arkansas area but we moved quite a bit. I went to three different schools by the third grade. Then, we moved to Green Forest and we stayed there until I was a sophomore in high school. We lived for a few months in a white two-story house and then my parents bought a house on 6th street and we stayed there until in 1985 when we moved back to the Springdale/Fayetteville area.
The house on 6th street was a three bedroom house with partial brick and a carport. There was an older woman who lived next door to us who always thought we were too loud and shouldn’t be doing whatever it was we were doing – even when what were doing was just playing in our own yard.
My sister and I shared a room and my younger brother had his own room. I remember that my sister and I had many fights over that room because she was a slob as a child (Hey its my blog and I am allowed to remember it my way!).
Both my parents worked so when we came home from school we would have the whole house to ourselves to play for a couple of hours until they got home from work. Our living room furniture served as a stage for our performances as great actors and singers – Our stage shows were wonderfully inventive as we lip synced to the latest tunes on that wonderful new invention of song videos on the TV!!
We had Barbies and we would spend hours on end making clothes for them and forcing my younger brother to drive them around in his cars! This is when I discovered that I should never do my own or anyone else’s hair because I have this unfortunate tendency to get one side shorter than the other and keep trying to fix it until my Barbies were nearly bald!! I could make wonderfully fashionable clothes out of the quilt scraps my Grandmas would give me though and I still sew some today.
We had bicycles and we probably rode hundreds of miles over those roads in that small town. My parents worked for the Tyson Chicken plant there and we had relatives from both sides of the family who lived nearby. We were just down the street from my Aunt Judy and Uncle Jerry Stout and their kids. We often went across the street from their house and played on the playground equipment at the elementary school.
As I recall it now, I don’t remember any special details about the house that would make it any different than any other house of its neighborhood. But it was our home and that made all the difference. I even remember how glad I was when we moved back to Springdale not to be living in that little town anymore where everyone knew absolutely everything that you did or even wanted to do! (Or at least it seemed so at the time.) Now, it holds some of my most cherished childhood memories.
My first car was just an old used car that we bought for me to drive. It never had any real significance to me. The cars that I really remember came later. I had an old green datsun that I drove for a couple of years that I really liked until it started just dying and shutting off all the electrical stuff for no apparent reason! When it stranded me on the interstate one night, it got traded soon after!
The next car that was of any importance to me was a blue Toyota Corrolla. Mom and I went to a used car lot and bought it. It was a good car for several years and I drove it everywhere. Dad didn’t appreciate it as much when he found out that the oil dipstick was in the back of the engine next to the windshield and down under most of the motor! He burnt his arm the first time he checked the oil for me!
I don’t really remember many of our family cars as a child but I do remember the cars of my grandparents! My Grandpa and Grandma Treat drove an old station wagon for many years. It was brown and it has the wooden panels on the doors. Everyone of these that I see makes me think of them!
My Grandpa Thompson drove an old 1960s pickup for many years! Later, in the late 1980s he got a yellow pickup truck that he drove until he died in 1997.
My Great-Grandpa Stout drove a green pickup with a camper on top for all of the time I can remember. My Great-Aunt Mabel Stout Parsons drove this little while compact car for all of the time that I can remember.
One of the funniest childhood stories of my dad is that when he was about 5 years old he decided that the car that they had at the time should be black. So he was going to help out the family and paint the car! He took a can of spray paint and painted the car! Maybe it was the one he is kneeling in front of in the photo!
Week 3: Cars. What was your first car? Describe the make, model and color, but also any memories you have of the vehicle. You can also expand on this topic and describe the car(s) your parents drove and any childhood memories attached to it.This challenge runs from Saturday, January 15, 2011 through Friday, January 21, 2011.
52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History by Amy Coffin is a series of weekly blogging prompts (one for each week of 2011) that invite genealogists and others to record memories and insights about their own lives for future descendants. You do not have to be a blogger to participate. If you do not have a genealogy blog, write down your memories on your computer, or simply record them on paper and keep them with your files.
Week #2 – Winter Memories
Week 2: Winter. What was winter like where and when you grew up? Describe not only the climate, but how the season influenced your activities, food choices, etc.
I grew up and still live in Northwest Arkansas. Winters here vary from very mild weather in the 40s and 50s to cold with several degrees below zero with lots of snow. Most years there is a mix of both. We have a saying in Arkansas that
if you don’t like the weather, just wait 5 minutes and it will change!
Most winters would get at least some snow. If we were lucky that would mean a SNOW DAY from school. We would get to stay home from school and go outside and play in the snow. If the snow was deep enough, we would build a snowman and have snowball fights! Also, we would get to have that rare treat: Snow Ice Cream! We could never eat snow ice cream from the first snow though. Mom was convinced that it was dirty so we would have to wait until the second snow of the season.
Winter was also a time for making homemade chili and soups on those cold winter evenings and having hot chocolate after school. Sometimes when we were little Mom would make homemade hot chocolate with boiled milk and chocolate powder but even the little packets that you add hot water tastes great when you come in from the cold!
52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History by Amy Coffin is a series of weekly blogging prompts (one for each week of 2011) that invite genealogists and others to record memories and insights about their own lives for future descendants.