Tag Archives: Childhood Memories
Not Quite Right, Dr. Freud
In honor of reconnecting with my very best friend from childhood, here’s a post from 2012 about Doris and one of our favorite games. I hope she will forgive me for my deep, horrible secret: NOT QUITE RIGHT, DR. FREUD I was reminded the other day of Freud’s theory that by age six or so, …
I Should Have Kept The Receipt
Last week, I wrote my husband’s inability to find the shaving cream. Although it wasn’t exactly hidden. And several people commented. Many said that they absolutely could have written this, since it appears we all have exactly the same spouse. But quite a few also commented that it’s not only men who can’t find anything. …
The Bad Influence
This is a story of a childhood friend. But the story isn’t really about the friend, or about me, or even about friendship in general. When all is said and done, this is a story about my mother. Today is her 91st birthday, and this story is about the kind of mother and person she …
Dances With Wolves
In the Native American culture, a name describes who a person is, and so should change as the person changes. I love this concept. Especially since I do not love Nancy. And I am certainly not the Nancy I used to be. So, in the mode of “Dances With Wolves,” I present to you my names …
Good Heavens, It’s Lent.
I’m sure as heck not a very religious adult, but I rather admire the religious kid I used to be. I took Lent pretty darn seriously. Well, for six days a week for those six weeks, anyway. I’m not exactly sure why I thought that Sundays didn’t count. Jiminy Crickets, perhaps it was true, and …
Anxious
Several years ago, I had a minor health issue while my doctor was on vacation, so I went to see the MD who was covering for him. Months later, I went back to my regular GP, and I happened to see the note that the fill-in doctor wrote on my file: “Patient is an anxious, …
Lessons From The Straight And Narrow
I stopped today on a busy street to let some poor schmuck get out of his driveway. A whole bunch of memories drove off with him. When I was a little kid, I lived in a three-family house. My Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Bo and their three kids lived on the first floor. We – …
Orphan Envy
Here’s a post from my earliest blogging days – (with a new drawing added, now that I know how to do that). ORPHAN ENVY When I was eight, I was in a play. The local Girl’s Club (like the “Y” without the yucky boys) offered afterschool classes, and I signed up for Drama. Good thing …
The Horrible, Though Imaginary, Family Secret
My maternal grandparents came to the US from Poland before World War I. They came separately – they didn’t meet until they were here for several years. As a matter of fact, my grandfather met and married someone else first, a young woman who died in the Great Influenza Pandemic of 1918. I don’t know …
notquiteold 