Yup, it happened. I was stopped by a cop Thursday, April 17, 2008 at, or around 4:00 p.m. in Loa, Utah. I have not been stopped by a cop in 25 or 30 years. It may be longer than that. This is only the fourth time I’ve ever been stopped by a cop. I have received two speeding tickets (one of which I should have gone to court and fought because I think it was bogus). The third time I was stopped I guess I was speeding but I didn’t know it because the speedometer didn’t indicate that I was speeding. You see, Jack had just put BIG tires on the pick-up I was driving and when you change the size of the tires from what they were when you bought the vehicle your speedometer doesn’t accurately tell you how fast you are going. The officer asked me if I knew I was speeding and I told him that I didn’t. I rarely ever went more than a couple of miles over the speed limit. Fortunately, Patti was with me that day. She spoke right up and said, “My mother never speeds! She’s the most boring driver I know.” The officer laughed and said, “Okay, I believe you.” Then he looked at me and told me that I’d better have the speedometer checked.
Okay, so those are my experiences with being stopped by cops. But let me start at the beginning. Yesterday was a gorgeous day and quite warm. A nurse had called and told me that Jack’s and my prescriptions were ready to be picked up (for Medicare, Part D). I told Jack I needed to go get them and asked him if he’d like to ride along. He said, “Sure.” We drove over to the clinic in Bicknell. I ran in, well, actually, I walked as fast as I could, and when I got back in the van I asked Jack if he’d like to see the campground where Juli and her sisters and their families and I had enjoyed an Easter picnic. (Jack didn’t want to go to the picnic but I went, anyway and had an absolutely delightful time.) He said he’d like to see the campground so I drove over there. It was just a couple of miles away. It’s a really nice campground and the hills were wonderful for the kids to roll their Easter eggs. After that, I drove around the new Wayne County Community Center so he’d know where I go when I help out at the Senior’s lunches. He had never been there, either.
We left Bicknell on our way back to Loa and Jack asked if we could take the “Big Rocks Road” past the airport---so we did. Just as we were getting back to town on the Big Rocks Road, Jack said, “What is that big metal building over there?” I said, “Let’s go see.” I knew what it was but we were in no particular hurry and he was really enjoying the drive so I signaled for a left-hand turn. The cop was stopped at a stop sign on the right side of the road. I turned left and drove up the street and turned right at the next corner in order for Jack to see what the building is. As I approached the street in front of the building I signaled for a right-hand turn, braked slightly and turned the corner. That was when I realized the cop was still following me and he had his lights flashing. I immediately pulled over and stopped. I watched him in the outside mirror and I didn’t recognize the face so I knew he wasn’t the Sheriff. When he got to my door he looked in the said, “Do you know that one of your brake lights isn’t working?” I replied, “No, I didn’t know that.” He said, “Yes, the brake light on the driver’s side is not working.” “Well, I’d better call Gary (Brian Auto) and get it taken care of,” I said.
And he said, “Yeh, you could call Gary or you could just have Tal replace the bulb.” I laughed, because then I knew that he knew who we are even though we didn’t know who he is.
Now, is that the cutest, or what? It is very comforting to know, at our age, that someone is looking out for us and it’s not necessarily our immediate family doing it all of the time. I love that part of living in a small town. As a matter of fact, I can’t think of anything I don’t like about living in a small town. Of course, I was raised in a small town where people more or less looked after each other, so why would Loa be any different?
Juli stopped by the house shortly after we got home and I shared our little adventure with her. We laughed and rejoiced in the whole thing all over again. She told us that if one of the teenagers in the County gets stopped for speeding, or whatever, the parents know about it before the kid gets home. Knowing that may make the teenagers think twice about doing something they know they shouldn’t do. I think that’s great! I’m sure Juli told Tal about me when she got home. I haven’t talked to Tal, yet, so I haven’t heard whether the deputy called Tal and said, “Hey, I just stopped your mother.” It makes me laugh just to think about it. I hope the deputy did call Tal.
Perhaps I should add one more thing to this little story. After Juli left our house I went into the family room and sat down to go through the mail. Jack and I laughed, again, about the cop stopping me and then he said, “I really enjoyed the ride today. You are really a good and careful driver.”
Friday, April 18, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
BAREFOOT IN THE SNOW AND COOKING BACON
Ah, yes. Walking barefoot in the snow! How well I remember that and how happy I am I do not need to do it any more.
When I was eight years old my Mom and Dad decided I was old enough to have my own bedroom. I had been sleeping in the living room on a day bed that I shared with my sister, Grace. We pulled it down every night to make a double bed and we made it up every morning. When Grace graduated from High school she somehow had found a job in California doing housework and cooking for a family there. I don’t know how she got the job (I’ll have to ask her sometime) but she went right to California after graduation.
Remember, after I was born, Daddy built a lean-to on our house and that lean-to became the kitchen, pantry and a screened porch. Actually, it wasn’t really a porch. It was a room with screens for windows (no glass). Daddy had an old canvas that he cut in half and he nailed the canvas over the screens in that room. Only problem was that the canvas was quite worn and had some holes. It did offer some privacy but not much protection from the elements. When it snowed, if there was any wind with the snow, I would wake up with snow on my bed. However, I thought it was quite wonderful to have my own room. I shared the room with a huge cupboard with doors that closed tightly. Mom kept the milk in there and I will be telling you more about that at a later time. I don’t remember what else was kept in the cupboard but there must have been something else.
Anyway, I had a bed and a couple of hooks on the wall to hang clothes.
You may remember that we only had stoves in the kitchen and living room. Though the stoves were great in those days, they didn’t retain heat like the new stoves available today, so when the fire went out the rooms got cold in a hurry. Absolutely no heat got into my bedroom and it was cold. That’s why I heated bricks or smooth rocks in the oven, wrapped them in towels or something and put them in my bed to warm it enough I could stand to climb into the bed. Now, I had a pretty good bladder but occasionally I would feel the urge to visit the outhouse in the middle of the night. My shoes were by my bed and a couple of times I put my feet into my shoes and wore them to the outhouse but those shoes felt like ice cubes. By the time I got back from the outhouse, my feet were so cold, I couldn’t get them warm the rest of the night (the bricks and rocks were cold by then so they were no help). The next time I had to go to the outhouse, I decided my feet couldn’t get any colder if I went barefoot and that’s what I did. There was one problem. I couldn’t stand to put my toes down into the snow so I pointed my toes toward the sky and just got the bottom of my feet on the snow. It worked! When I got back to bed my feet weren’t nearly as cold as when I wore my cold shoes. And, yes, I really could point my toes toward the sky. I got so used to walking barefoot on cold surfaces that when I put bare feet on any surface, my toes automatically pointed upward. Jack used to get the biggest kick out of that. He thought I was quite talented. (Wow! What a talent!)
Do I still point my toes upward? Well, it’s been a long time since I had to walk on really cold surfaces and gradually my toes began to touch the floor. And, as a result of getting older, I found I needed to put my toes on the floor for extra stability. I can’t just scoot around with only my feet under me. When Shanna mentioned about walking barefoot in the snow and toes pointed upward I thought, “Gee, I wonder whether I can still do that.” I tried and due to the lack of practice pointing them skyward they don’t go nearly as straight up. I guess I can start exercising those muscles every day and get my talent back if I want to. The question is: Do I? Well, let me try it for a while and see whether it’s worth the effort. When I was young, it took no particular effort.
COOKING BACON
I love bacon but it was always SO messy to cook. Even if I used a splatter screen over the pan, it was messy and you have to deal with the bacon curling in your stove-top pan. But now I have the perfect way to cook bacon with no curling and it doesn’t cook in the grease.
If you have a cookie sheet (with sides at least one inch) put a cooling rack (like you’d use for cooling cakes or cookies) into the cookie sheet. Lay your bacon strips on the cooling rack. Heat your oven to 400 degrees. When the oven is up to 400 degrees, put the cookie sheet in the oven. I can’t tell you exactly how long it takes because at 7000 feet in altitude it is different than if you’re at sea level or somewhere between. Just keep an eye on the bacon the first time you try this and keep track of the time it takes. You can cook your bacon crisp or limp—however you like it. When it’s just right for you, remove the cookie sheet from the oven. Your bacon will be nice and flat—no curling—and cooked to perfection. What’s even better, all the grease is in the bottom of the cookie sheet and the bacon isn’t sitting in the grease. You can wash the cooling rack in your dishwasher. And, you can pour the grease from the cookie sheet. You can either dispose of the grease or you can put it in a container and put it in your refrigerator to cook with later—if that’s what you like to use. If you cook beans and add a little bacon grease to the pot, it makes the beans a complete protein and they’ll be better for you. Yes, you do need a little fat in your diet. I’ve been cooking bacon like this for about a year now and it is wonderful. I keep wondering why it took me so long. Try it—I think you’ll like it. Let me know what you think.
Hey, here’s an EASY recipe for absolutely the most deliciously decadent brownies you’ve ever tasted:
TOFFEE BROWNIES
1 pkg. brownie mix with walnuts (it needs to be at least 17.6 ounces and up to 19 ounces is better)
Vegetable oil cooking spray
3 (5 or 8 ounce) candy bars with toffee chips and almonds--recommended Symphony brand
Prepare the brownie mix according to package directions
Line a 13 x 9-inch cake pan with aluminum foil and spray with vegetable oil cooking spray. Spoon in half the brownie batter and smooth with a spatula or the back of a spoon. Place the candy bars side by side on top of the batter. Cover with the remaining batter.
Bake according to package directions. Let cool completely, then lift from the pan using the edges of the foil. This makes it easy to cut the brownies into squares. Dust the top with a little powdered sugar. You will want to lift the brownies off the foil at this time and store in a container you can cover tightly.
(The first ones I made I used 5 oz. bars. I bought some more bars and didn’t notice that I had picked up the 8 oz. bars so I used them anyway. They were so gooey and wonderful that it was almost immoral. However, the 5 oz. bars are delicious, as well.)
I love you all.
When I was eight years old my Mom and Dad decided I was old enough to have my own bedroom. I had been sleeping in the living room on a day bed that I shared with my sister, Grace. We pulled it down every night to make a double bed and we made it up every morning. When Grace graduated from High school she somehow had found a job in California doing housework and cooking for a family there. I don’t know how she got the job (I’ll have to ask her sometime) but she went right to California after graduation.
Remember, after I was born, Daddy built a lean-to on our house and that lean-to became the kitchen, pantry and a screened porch. Actually, it wasn’t really a porch. It was a room with screens for windows (no glass). Daddy had an old canvas that he cut in half and he nailed the canvas over the screens in that room. Only problem was that the canvas was quite worn and had some holes. It did offer some privacy but not much protection from the elements. When it snowed, if there was any wind with the snow, I would wake up with snow on my bed. However, I thought it was quite wonderful to have my own room. I shared the room with a huge cupboard with doors that closed tightly. Mom kept the milk in there and I will be telling you more about that at a later time. I don’t remember what else was kept in the cupboard but there must have been something else.
Anyway, I had a bed and a couple of hooks on the wall to hang clothes.
You may remember that we only had stoves in the kitchen and living room. Though the stoves were great in those days, they didn’t retain heat like the new stoves available today, so when the fire went out the rooms got cold in a hurry. Absolutely no heat got into my bedroom and it was cold. That’s why I heated bricks or smooth rocks in the oven, wrapped them in towels or something and put them in my bed to warm it enough I could stand to climb into the bed. Now, I had a pretty good bladder but occasionally I would feel the urge to visit the outhouse in the middle of the night. My shoes were by my bed and a couple of times I put my feet into my shoes and wore them to the outhouse but those shoes felt like ice cubes. By the time I got back from the outhouse, my feet were so cold, I couldn’t get them warm the rest of the night (the bricks and rocks were cold by then so they were no help). The next time I had to go to the outhouse, I decided my feet couldn’t get any colder if I went barefoot and that’s what I did. There was one problem. I couldn’t stand to put my toes down into the snow so I pointed my toes toward the sky and just got the bottom of my feet on the snow. It worked! When I got back to bed my feet weren’t nearly as cold as when I wore my cold shoes. And, yes, I really could point my toes toward the sky. I got so used to walking barefoot on cold surfaces that when I put bare feet on any surface, my toes automatically pointed upward. Jack used to get the biggest kick out of that. He thought I was quite talented. (Wow! What a talent!)
Do I still point my toes upward? Well, it’s been a long time since I had to walk on really cold surfaces and gradually my toes began to touch the floor. And, as a result of getting older, I found I needed to put my toes on the floor for extra stability. I can’t just scoot around with only my feet under me. When Shanna mentioned about walking barefoot in the snow and toes pointed upward I thought, “Gee, I wonder whether I can still do that.” I tried and due to the lack of practice pointing them skyward they don’t go nearly as straight up. I guess I can start exercising those muscles every day and get my talent back if I want to. The question is: Do I? Well, let me try it for a while and see whether it’s worth the effort. When I was young, it took no particular effort.
COOKING BACON
I love bacon but it was always SO messy to cook. Even if I used a splatter screen over the pan, it was messy and you have to deal with the bacon curling in your stove-top pan. But now I have the perfect way to cook bacon with no curling and it doesn’t cook in the grease.
If you have a cookie sheet (with sides at least one inch) put a cooling rack (like you’d use for cooling cakes or cookies) into the cookie sheet. Lay your bacon strips on the cooling rack. Heat your oven to 400 degrees. When the oven is up to 400 degrees, put the cookie sheet in the oven. I can’t tell you exactly how long it takes because at 7000 feet in altitude it is different than if you’re at sea level or somewhere between. Just keep an eye on the bacon the first time you try this and keep track of the time it takes. You can cook your bacon crisp or limp—however you like it. When it’s just right for you, remove the cookie sheet from the oven. Your bacon will be nice and flat—no curling—and cooked to perfection. What’s even better, all the grease is in the bottom of the cookie sheet and the bacon isn’t sitting in the grease. You can wash the cooling rack in your dishwasher. And, you can pour the grease from the cookie sheet. You can either dispose of the grease or you can put it in a container and put it in your refrigerator to cook with later—if that’s what you like to use. If you cook beans and add a little bacon grease to the pot, it makes the beans a complete protein and they’ll be better for you. Yes, you do need a little fat in your diet. I’ve been cooking bacon like this for about a year now and it is wonderful. I keep wondering why it took me so long. Try it—I think you’ll like it. Let me know what you think.
Hey, here’s an EASY recipe for absolutely the most deliciously decadent brownies you’ve ever tasted:
TOFFEE BROWNIES
1 pkg. brownie mix with walnuts (it needs to be at least 17.6 ounces and up to 19 ounces is better)
Vegetable oil cooking spray
3 (5 or 8 ounce) candy bars with toffee chips and almonds--recommended Symphony brand
Prepare the brownie mix according to package directions
Line a 13 x 9-inch cake pan with aluminum foil and spray with vegetable oil cooking spray. Spoon in half the brownie batter and smooth with a spatula or the back of a spoon. Place the candy bars side by side on top of the batter. Cover with the remaining batter.
Bake according to package directions. Let cool completely, then lift from the pan using the edges of the foil. This makes it easy to cut the brownies into squares. Dust the top with a little powdered sugar. You will want to lift the brownies off the foil at this time and store in a container you can cover tightly.
(The first ones I made I used 5 oz. bars. I bought some more bars and didn’t notice that I had picked up the 8 oz. bars so I used them anyway. They were so gooey and wonderful that it was almost immoral. However, the 5 oz. bars are delicious, as well.)
I love you all.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
LONG BROWN STOCKINGS AND MARCH MADNESS
Patti has mentioned long brown stockings in her comments a couple of times so I will tell you about them. My March Madness has nothing to do with Basketball but I have had my own March Madness which I will share.
When I was a child, and even into my teens, women and girls did not wear pants/slacks. We always wore dresses. Let me amend that—when women had to go to work in the factories during World War II, they did wear slacks and thanks to Katherine Hepburn, pants/slacks steadily became more and more popular. (For those of you who are too young to know who Katherine Hepburn was---she was a movie actress who won about four “Oscars” and many other acting awards. She was a real trend setter. She didn’t like to be confined to dresses all the time and she really made pants/slacks popular. Thank heaven for women, here and there, who believed that women could become whatever they wanted.) After the war was over and the women no longer needed to work in the factories, they were expected to put on dresses, go back to their homes and forget that the pants/slacks era had ever happened. Somehow, that didn’t set well with the woman who had worked in the factories. They liked receiving checks that were theirs to spend as they needed and they didn’t have to ask “hubby” for permission. They also found they liked wearing pants because they were so comfortable so they were quite willing to follow the trend Katherine Hepburn had set. For some men, that was a hard pill to swallow.
I always wore dresses to school. Wearing dresses was expected. Girls also wore “bobby sox” (anklets), except in the winter. (Pants would have been an easy answer but it was too soon for pants to be accepted.) When it got cold, the Elementary School girls wore long stockings. My mother made a kind of “harness” (for lack of a better word) to wear under my clothes to hold up my stockings. We didn’t have panty hose---just stockings. Some of the girls wore some kind of elastic around the top of their stockings to hold them up but my mom didn’t think that was healthy. I wish I could draw you a picture of what the harness looked like but with my limited ability at that sort of thing, you’ll just have to envision what it looked like. It hung from my shoulders and had horizontal connecting pieces on the front, back and sides so it wouldn’t fall off my shoulders. Also, there were connecting pieces around my waist to keep it in place. Straps hung from those pieces with hooks to hold up the stockings. (Can you picture it?) My mother insisted that I start wearing long stockings by the end of September and I couldn’t quit wearing them until May. I hated those long stockings. They were ugly. They were made of thick cotton knit and after I bent my knees a few times they bagged at the knees. Ugly, ugly, ugly! The stockings were a beige color. Mom always bought a package of three pairs of stockings. Three pairs were supposed to last the school year. Remember, when we did the laundry we had to heat the water, etc., etc. So we either had to wash the stockings by hand, or just simply wear them several times. When I was in Elementary School, I generally opted to wear them several times between washings.
If I wore holes in the stockings, I was required to “darn” or “patch” the holes. My mother could darn socks beautifully. She tried to teach me but I was never good at it so I usually ended up sewing a patch over the holes. I didn’t make very pretty patches either, so by Springtime, my stockings were really terrible to look at. By Spring, I always hoped I could stop wearing them. No such luck! Mom had her own ideas of what was proper attire for little girls, so every day I had to wear those ugly stockings. In March, some of the other girls were wearing “bobby sox.” I wanted to be one of them. Since my mom wouldn’t let me be one of them, every day I put the long stockings on before I left the house and I’d walk to school. The street from our house to the school had a slight rise in the first block and then it sloped down the second block to the school. As soon as I was over the rise and on the down side and I knew my mom couldn’t see me, I unfastened those stockings and rolled them down. That was not very pretty, either, but there were other girls whose mothers made them wear long stockings and they rolled theirs down, too, so we had a style of our own. It was an unsightly fashion statement but it worked for us. Of course, before we went home for lunch or after school, we had to roll them back up.
By the time we were in sixth grade, most of the girls wore anklets all winter. Yes, bare legs get cold, but who notices cold when “fashion” is the issue. There were only about four of us who had moms who made us wear long stockings. I was probably warmer than some of the others but I was so timid and shy that anything that set me apart from the others was almost more than my mind and spirit could bear. I had warm legs and zero self-confidence. Naturally, those of us who were still forced to wear long stockings had to endure the teasing from others whose mothers cared more about fashion than good sense. By April, I was the only one still wearing long stockings. I was the only one still rolling down the stockings each morning after leaving home and rolling them back up before going home. I was lucky that my brothers didn’t tattle on me, but I’m sure they had their own issues on their minds. Finally, when May came around, mom allowed me to wear anklets. Pants/slacks would have saved me from all the humiliation of long stockings. Also, pants/slacks would have been much more modest. We didn’t have monkey bars, slides or swings at our school, but we did a lot of cart wheels, jumping, running and hop scotch playing. Fortunately our underpants covered us very well (no thongs in those days) but it would have been more modest to wear pants.
This is not the end of the story. After we had graduated from sixth grade and were going into seventh grade at the High School I was absolutely certain that my mom would not make me wear long stockings all winter. But, she did. The stockings were different, however. Now, instead of the beige cotton knit, she got me a pair of “grown up” stockings. They were made of rayon and they were brown. Nylon hosiery had become available but nylons got “runs” in them quite easily and we certainly couldn’t afford to buy pair after pair to get me through the school year. Rayon was considerably more durable but not as durable as the cotton had been. A lot of older women still wore rayon hosiery and had not made the switch to nylon. I guess what I’m saying is that the rayon stockings were for “old ladies” and me. And, yes, I only had one pair. I had to wash them every night and hang them near the stove so they’d be dry by morning. They were ugly. Mom had also bought me a garter belt to hold them up. In seventh grade we had to dress for P.E. and shower afterward. I hated that garter belt and the long stockings. It was very embarrassing.
There was a kid a year older than I who was a real jerk. His name is George Redd. He seemed to think he was something special because he descended from the “hole-in-the-rockers” (more about that later) and he was mean. Perhaps cruel is a better word. He always ridiculed me and my long stockings. Every time he saw me he would say, “Well, there’s Marilyn in her fancy nylon stockings.”
I should tell you here that there was one other girl who wore long rayon stockings in seventh and eighth grades. Her name is Klea Black. She had contracted Polio about four or five years earlier and she had survived. She had a mild disability as a result of the Polio and her mother was somewhat protective of her. Klea had missed an entire year of school while she recovered from Polio. She was a year ahead of me before she got sick but she came to our class after she was well. She was a very nice person and we enjoyed having her in our class. Somehow, George Redd had the decency not to “pick on” Klea. I had no reason to wear the ugly long, brown stockings other than that my mother insisted I wear them. I really disliked George Redd. He was always with a “pack” of like-minded boys. When he ridiculed my stockings all his buddies would snicker.
Finally, by ninth grade, my mom relented and let me wear anklets to school. Yes, I had cold legs but cold legs were easier to endure than the ridicule that came with my ugly, long brown stockings.
There is an upside to all of this. I think wearing those ugly, long stockings made me determined to “be somebody.” I wanted to excel at school and participate in the extra-curricular activities, as well. I don’t recall George Redd ever doing anything noteworthy that set him apart from the crowd or that made him stand out in a positive way. He always “stood out” as a bully. I, on the other hand, accomplished many things in many areas during my school years that have benefited me throughout my life. I’m sure I’ll get around to telling you about those experiences. I guess the most important benefit was that I began to overcome my extreme shyness because of my accomplishments. Perhaps the ugly, long brown stockings helped me get past the unimportant aspects of living and move on with determination.
Now, for March Madness.
I think I have mentioned that I have two callings in the Loa Ward. I play the piano for the Senior Primary and also for the Ward Choir. Occasionally, I get a bonus and play the organ for Sacrament Meeting when the Ward Organist is going to be out of town.
Around the first of February, the Ward Choir Director told me that the Ward Choir would be performing three numbers for the Easter Program. She had picked out an arrangement of: “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today” and “I Heard Him Come.” She asked if I had any suggestions for the third one and mentioned she’d like it to be something easy. I did have a suggestion: “Easter Morn.” It is a song that was in the old Deseret Sunday School Song Book. That’s the song book we used at Church when I was a child. That song book has not been used for over 50 years and the song I mentioned is not in the song book that followed the Deseret Sunday School Song Book, nor any others that have followed since that time, yet, it is a very beautiful and meaningful song, in my opinion. I played it for her and she loved it. It is a duet for women’s voices. We began practicing those three numbers, plus what we were preparing for the third Sunday in February. “Easter Morn” was easy for me; “I Heard Him Come” was doable; “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today” was more of a challenge but was also doable. Everything was great---and then the choir director called and said the Bishop had just informed her that Ward Conference was scheduled for March 9th and he wanted the choir to provide a number. She opted to do something familiar from the Hymn Book which was okay with me. We practiced, “Be Still My Soul.” Okay, so that is all fine and dandy!
Then the Stake Choir Director called me and told me Stake Conference was scheduled for March 16th and the Stake Choir was to perform two numbers at Stake Conference and would I please accompany the Stake Choir on the organ? I thought, “Here is a nice little challenge---why not?” So I agreed to play. She brought me the arrangement she had chosen for one number: “Home Can Be A Heaven On Earth.” The second number would be: “He Is Risen” from the Hymn Book. The Stake President had requested that the Choir sing the first two verses and have the congregation join in on the third verse. “And,” she said, “You will also be expected to play the prelude and postlude music plus two congregation hymns.” Unfortunately, no matter how many years I play the organ and piano, and no matter how well I know the numbers, I still feel very much in need of practice before I “perform.” If a 12-year old plays something and makes a mistake, no one pays much attention. Perhaps that is true of a 74-year old, as well, but in my own mind, it is important that I play well. I cannot imagine Horowitz (who has passed away) playing a piano concert without practice or any other professional, for that matter. True, I am still an amateur, but I try to play perfectly.
I certainly had enough on my plate to keep me out of mischief. Playing the organ for a choir is a whole different animal than playing for a congregation. I played a medley of hymn arrangements for the prelude before Stake Conference and I opted to play “Londonderry Air” for postlude. Here was my reasoning: It was the day before St. Patrick’s Day so Irish seemed appropriate to me AND I knew that “Londonderry Air” or “O, Danny Boy,” if you prefer, was a favorite of President Hinckley. I figured I’d take a chance to play it because it is a favorite of mine, as well. The reason I said: “I’d take a chance,” is because, in this Stake, people generally just play hymns for postlude. Apparently there were others in the congregation who like that particular piece because I had a number of compliments and no one came to tell me to stop.
The organ in the Loa Ward Chapel is different than any I have ever played so every time I play it is a new experience. I felt the need to do a good bit of practicing at the Chapel so I could feel comfortable with the organ. It will be the same if I’m ever asked to play again. It takes time to learn a new instrument and I can’t go over there to practice every day. I should but I can’t.
Tal and Juli were at Stake Conference and said the organ sounded good. I appreciate their compliments and comments. Also, the Stake President came over to the organ and complimented me. I guess it was okay.
Stake Conference was over but there were still three numbers to be performed on Easter. Fortunately, they were on the piano and they went well. I appreciate the talents I have been given and I appreciate the opportunity to serve the Lord by using by talents. I do not take my callings lightly and I grow in ability every time I play. I am so grateful that my Dad insisted I “learn to play the hymns” when I took piano lessons. Music is something you take with you through life and in our Church, there is always opportunity to use that talent. I am blessed to still be able to play. Practicing keeps my mind alert and my fingers agile. It is also good for the soul. That’s the story of my March Madness. It was hectic and sometimes very stressful, but now that it’s over I look back on it as being very satisfying.
I love you all.
Happy Birthday to Dusty on April 8th
When I was a child, and even into my teens, women and girls did not wear pants/slacks. We always wore dresses. Let me amend that—when women had to go to work in the factories during World War II, they did wear slacks and thanks to Katherine Hepburn, pants/slacks steadily became more and more popular. (For those of you who are too young to know who Katherine Hepburn was---she was a movie actress who won about four “Oscars” and many other acting awards. She was a real trend setter. She didn’t like to be confined to dresses all the time and she really made pants/slacks popular. Thank heaven for women, here and there, who believed that women could become whatever they wanted.) After the war was over and the women no longer needed to work in the factories, they were expected to put on dresses, go back to their homes and forget that the pants/slacks era had ever happened. Somehow, that didn’t set well with the woman who had worked in the factories. They liked receiving checks that were theirs to spend as they needed and they didn’t have to ask “hubby” for permission. They also found they liked wearing pants because they were so comfortable so they were quite willing to follow the trend Katherine Hepburn had set. For some men, that was a hard pill to swallow.
I always wore dresses to school. Wearing dresses was expected. Girls also wore “bobby sox” (anklets), except in the winter. (Pants would have been an easy answer but it was too soon for pants to be accepted.) When it got cold, the Elementary School girls wore long stockings. My mother made a kind of “harness” (for lack of a better word) to wear under my clothes to hold up my stockings. We didn’t have panty hose---just stockings. Some of the girls wore some kind of elastic around the top of their stockings to hold them up but my mom didn’t think that was healthy. I wish I could draw you a picture of what the harness looked like but with my limited ability at that sort of thing, you’ll just have to envision what it looked like. It hung from my shoulders and had horizontal connecting pieces on the front, back and sides so it wouldn’t fall off my shoulders. Also, there were connecting pieces around my waist to keep it in place. Straps hung from those pieces with hooks to hold up the stockings. (Can you picture it?) My mother insisted that I start wearing long stockings by the end of September and I couldn’t quit wearing them until May. I hated those long stockings. They were ugly. They were made of thick cotton knit and after I bent my knees a few times they bagged at the knees. Ugly, ugly, ugly! The stockings were a beige color. Mom always bought a package of three pairs of stockings. Three pairs were supposed to last the school year. Remember, when we did the laundry we had to heat the water, etc., etc. So we either had to wash the stockings by hand, or just simply wear them several times. When I was in Elementary School, I generally opted to wear them several times between washings.
If I wore holes in the stockings, I was required to “darn” or “patch” the holes. My mother could darn socks beautifully. She tried to teach me but I was never good at it so I usually ended up sewing a patch over the holes. I didn’t make very pretty patches either, so by Springtime, my stockings were really terrible to look at. By Spring, I always hoped I could stop wearing them. No such luck! Mom had her own ideas of what was proper attire for little girls, so every day I had to wear those ugly stockings. In March, some of the other girls were wearing “bobby sox.” I wanted to be one of them. Since my mom wouldn’t let me be one of them, every day I put the long stockings on before I left the house and I’d walk to school. The street from our house to the school had a slight rise in the first block and then it sloped down the second block to the school. As soon as I was over the rise and on the down side and I knew my mom couldn’t see me, I unfastened those stockings and rolled them down. That was not very pretty, either, but there were other girls whose mothers made them wear long stockings and they rolled theirs down, too, so we had a style of our own. It was an unsightly fashion statement but it worked for us. Of course, before we went home for lunch or after school, we had to roll them back up.
By the time we were in sixth grade, most of the girls wore anklets all winter. Yes, bare legs get cold, but who notices cold when “fashion” is the issue. There were only about four of us who had moms who made us wear long stockings. I was probably warmer than some of the others but I was so timid and shy that anything that set me apart from the others was almost more than my mind and spirit could bear. I had warm legs and zero self-confidence. Naturally, those of us who were still forced to wear long stockings had to endure the teasing from others whose mothers cared more about fashion than good sense. By April, I was the only one still wearing long stockings. I was the only one still rolling down the stockings each morning after leaving home and rolling them back up before going home. I was lucky that my brothers didn’t tattle on me, but I’m sure they had their own issues on their minds. Finally, when May came around, mom allowed me to wear anklets. Pants/slacks would have saved me from all the humiliation of long stockings. Also, pants/slacks would have been much more modest. We didn’t have monkey bars, slides or swings at our school, but we did a lot of cart wheels, jumping, running and hop scotch playing. Fortunately our underpants covered us very well (no thongs in those days) but it would have been more modest to wear pants.
This is not the end of the story. After we had graduated from sixth grade and were going into seventh grade at the High School I was absolutely certain that my mom would not make me wear long stockings all winter. But, she did. The stockings were different, however. Now, instead of the beige cotton knit, she got me a pair of “grown up” stockings. They were made of rayon and they were brown. Nylon hosiery had become available but nylons got “runs” in them quite easily and we certainly couldn’t afford to buy pair after pair to get me through the school year. Rayon was considerably more durable but not as durable as the cotton had been. A lot of older women still wore rayon hosiery and had not made the switch to nylon. I guess what I’m saying is that the rayon stockings were for “old ladies” and me. And, yes, I only had one pair. I had to wash them every night and hang them near the stove so they’d be dry by morning. They were ugly. Mom had also bought me a garter belt to hold them up. In seventh grade we had to dress for P.E. and shower afterward. I hated that garter belt and the long stockings. It was very embarrassing.
There was a kid a year older than I who was a real jerk. His name is George Redd. He seemed to think he was something special because he descended from the “hole-in-the-rockers” (more about that later) and he was mean. Perhaps cruel is a better word. He always ridiculed me and my long stockings. Every time he saw me he would say, “Well, there’s Marilyn in her fancy nylon stockings.”
I should tell you here that there was one other girl who wore long rayon stockings in seventh and eighth grades. Her name is Klea Black. She had contracted Polio about four or five years earlier and she had survived. She had a mild disability as a result of the Polio and her mother was somewhat protective of her. Klea had missed an entire year of school while she recovered from Polio. She was a year ahead of me before she got sick but she came to our class after she was well. She was a very nice person and we enjoyed having her in our class. Somehow, George Redd had the decency not to “pick on” Klea. I had no reason to wear the ugly long, brown stockings other than that my mother insisted I wear them. I really disliked George Redd. He was always with a “pack” of like-minded boys. When he ridiculed my stockings all his buddies would snicker.
Finally, by ninth grade, my mom relented and let me wear anklets to school. Yes, I had cold legs but cold legs were easier to endure than the ridicule that came with my ugly, long brown stockings.
There is an upside to all of this. I think wearing those ugly, long stockings made me determined to “be somebody.” I wanted to excel at school and participate in the extra-curricular activities, as well. I don’t recall George Redd ever doing anything noteworthy that set him apart from the crowd or that made him stand out in a positive way. He always “stood out” as a bully. I, on the other hand, accomplished many things in many areas during my school years that have benefited me throughout my life. I’m sure I’ll get around to telling you about those experiences. I guess the most important benefit was that I began to overcome my extreme shyness because of my accomplishments. Perhaps the ugly, long brown stockings helped me get past the unimportant aspects of living and move on with determination.
Now, for March Madness.
I think I have mentioned that I have two callings in the Loa Ward. I play the piano for the Senior Primary and also for the Ward Choir. Occasionally, I get a bonus and play the organ for Sacrament Meeting when the Ward Organist is going to be out of town.
Around the first of February, the Ward Choir Director told me that the Ward Choir would be performing three numbers for the Easter Program. She had picked out an arrangement of: “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today” and “I Heard Him Come.” She asked if I had any suggestions for the third one and mentioned she’d like it to be something easy. I did have a suggestion: “Easter Morn.” It is a song that was in the old Deseret Sunday School Song Book. That’s the song book we used at Church when I was a child. That song book has not been used for over 50 years and the song I mentioned is not in the song book that followed the Deseret Sunday School Song Book, nor any others that have followed since that time, yet, it is a very beautiful and meaningful song, in my opinion. I played it for her and she loved it. It is a duet for women’s voices. We began practicing those three numbers, plus what we were preparing for the third Sunday in February. “Easter Morn” was easy for me; “I Heard Him Come” was doable; “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today” was more of a challenge but was also doable. Everything was great---and then the choir director called and said the Bishop had just informed her that Ward Conference was scheduled for March 9th and he wanted the choir to provide a number. She opted to do something familiar from the Hymn Book which was okay with me. We practiced, “Be Still My Soul.” Okay, so that is all fine and dandy!
Then the Stake Choir Director called me and told me Stake Conference was scheduled for March 16th and the Stake Choir was to perform two numbers at Stake Conference and would I please accompany the Stake Choir on the organ? I thought, “Here is a nice little challenge---why not?” So I agreed to play. She brought me the arrangement she had chosen for one number: “Home Can Be A Heaven On Earth.” The second number would be: “He Is Risen” from the Hymn Book. The Stake President had requested that the Choir sing the first two verses and have the congregation join in on the third verse. “And,” she said, “You will also be expected to play the prelude and postlude music plus two congregation hymns.” Unfortunately, no matter how many years I play the organ and piano, and no matter how well I know the numbers, I still feel very much in need of practice before I “perform.” If a 12-year old plays something and makes a mistake, no one pays much attention. Perhaps that is true of a 74-year old, as well, but in my own mind, it is important that I play well. I cannot imagine Horowitz (who has passed away) playing a piano concert without practice or any other professional, for that matter. True, I am still an amateur, but I try to play perfectly.
I certainly had enough on my plate to keep me out of mischief. Playing the organ for a choir is a whole different animal than playing for a congregation. I played a medley of hymn arrangements for the prelude before Stake Conference and I opted to play “Londonderry Air” for postlude. Here was my reasoning: It was the day before St. Patrick’s Day so Irish seemed appropriate to me AND I knew that “Londonderry Air” or “O, Danny Boy,” if you prefer, was a favorite of President Hinckley. I figured I’d take a chance to play it because it is a favorite of mine, as well. The reason I said: “I’d take a chance,” is because, in this Stake, people generally just play hymns for postlude. Apparently there were others in the congregation who like that particular piece because I had a number of compliments and no one came to tell me to stop.
The organ in the Loa Ward Chapel is different than any I have ever played so every time I play it is a new experience. I felt the need to do a good bit of practicing at the Chapel so I could feel comfortable with the organ. It will be the same if I’m ever asked to play again. It takes time to learn a new instrument and I can’t go over there to practice every day. I should but I can’t.
Tal and Juli were at Stake Conference and said the organ sounded good. I appreciate their compliments and comments. Also, the Stake President came over to the organ and complimented me. I guess it was okay.
Stake Conference was over but there were still three numbers to be performed on Easter. Fortunately, they were on the piano and they went well. I appreciate the talents I have been given and I appreciate the opportunity to serve the Lord by using by talents. I do not take my callings lightly and I grow in ability every time I play. I am so grateful that my Dad insisted I “learn to play the hymns” when I took piano lessons. Music is something you take with you through life and in our Church, there is always opportunity to use that talent. I am blessed to still be able to play. Practicing keeps my mind alert and my fingers agile. It is also good for the soul. That’s the story of my March Madness. It was hectic and sometimes very stressful, but now that it’s over I look back on it as being very satisfying.
I love you all.
Happy Birthday to Dusty on April 8th
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