Memorial Day memories—from 1941

Before long, I will take wire cutters and several new stems of silk flowers to nearby Cameron Cemetery to freshen those already in the urns. That might not be enough but using some of the un-faded ones, I will decorate graves of the nine family members who rest there, fairly close together.Two of them served during World War II.

Several years ago now, to prepare for laying new carpet, I had to take out all the small stuff from each room.

This is where I found what follows. I opened the top drawer of a bureau to deposit some items inside. In a back corner, I saw what resembled an old photo folder. I felt like an archeologist, a historian.  Bordered pictures—with their same-size negatives—fell out of an envelope.

Luckily for me, several yellowed, fragile clippings from the BENTON COURIER had been folded into the envelope.

The date of the large clipping that showed the masthead was May 8, 1941!! I was four years old and among the children mentioned in the second write-up of the Salem Home Arts Club.


Here is the first one. It had no date.  “The Home Arts Club held its December [1940] meeting at the home of Mrs. Frank Davis (nee Dora Maude Bragg). The house was very tastefully decorated with a beautiful Christmas tree.It was an all-day meeting and after a delicious pot-luck luncheon the business session was called, and old and new business was discussed, after which a social hour was held with Mrs. Raymond Pelton (my aunt Doris nee Couch) and Mrs. Harold Bragg (nee Golden Crow) winning the prizes. The gifts were then exchanged, and everyone received something lovely—most of the gifts being Pyrex ware. The meeting adjourned to meet in January with Mrs. Bill Kreigbaum. —Reporter.”

The next clipping also had no date, but it was April, so it was 1941. Or was it 1942? You’ll see why I question this as the report unfolds.

“Mrs. Hubert Couch (my mother, Anna Pearl nee Scott) was hostess to the Home Arts Club on Thursday April 4. Her home was lovely with purple lilacs and dogwood. All members were present except one, and we were glad to welcome back an old member, Mrs. Vera Scott. The morning was spent sewing and chatting. At noon a delicious pot-luck dinner was served, with the children having a lovely picnic in the yard. In the afternoon the hostess was given a shower of many beautiful gifts. [I’ll discuss this later.] Then a short business meeting was held. The ones who went to Collegeville and gave the play made a good report. It was decided to have a ‘Radio variety program’ at the club house, Saturday night, April 20, and plans were made for it. Pictures were made of all the group, the children and the officers. After this the door prize was awarded to Mrs. Woodrow (Lois) Shelby.”

My sis and I concluded that Mom—as hostess—had given birth to her third child in mid-January. The “shower” must have been for that occasion. We still lived in “the little house” until November of 1942. That would also explain the lilacs and dogwood.

c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

           

           

"Asks" used as a noun! Twice in one day!

                        Dutch iris in front of loropetalum, May, '18, Couchwood, Saline County

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As I come to the end of  another journal, I'll share what I thought was important, ironic, idiotic, or interesting enough to transcribe. Bud Kenny and Gin Hartnett will remember my compendium project that the writers group stifled. I haven’t stopped with the project, and it’s becoming a behemoth.

Twice in one day, I read sentences that used “asks” as a noun!!! The first time I read it, I chuckled. “The U. S. has turned over to China a “detailed list of asks . . .” It was from the state paper’s wire service. The second instance came online from Tom Perez, Democratic Party head. “Dear Patricia, I know this is a big ask, . . .”

Now and then, an unknown word (or phrase) will ricochet from the paper to my eyes. If I’m at the computer, I’ll immediately ask Cortana for the definition. Two such words were “eustress” – “a moderate or normal psychological stress interpreted as being beneficial for the experiencer.” (Bing) The other was “inimical” – “tending to obstruct or harm; unfriendly, hostile.” (Let me stop right now and add those to my compendium chapter, “Unknown words or phrases.”)

“My theology,” says Christopher Morley, “is that the universe was dictated but not signed.” This was the solution to the AD-G’s cryptoquote on May 3. It was a different perspective, a different way of envisioning creation. I jotted it down.

Another quote, this time from Walter E. Williams, a columnist in the AD-G, is this: “The worst kind of ignorance is not knowing just how ignorant we are.” (March 29) And one more, “Spending quiet time alone gives your mind an opportunity to renew itself and create order.” – Susan L. Taylor, a cryptoquote I DID NOT SOLVE. The next day’s puzzle, I DID unravel: “Inside myself is a place where I live all alone and this is where you renew your springs that never run dry.”—Pearl S. Buck

I also collect given names. The final page in the artsy journal from Tuesday Morning include these: Rumondale, Elgean, Tasha, Ohmod, Quatie, Cleamon, Evert, Fayerene, Reagin, Arshia, Wyndham, Griffyn, Rocco and Claretha.

This is also where I compose poems. Two of them follow:

CHANGING SEASONS -
No wind
this work week’s last
day. Cloudy, quiet—what
does it portend? Has turbulence
died down?

ROTEL & HOT SAUCE –
A sure
way to unclog
sinuses: Tabasco
into your olio of white
bean soup.

Finally, odd surnames and those ending with “-man” also get a place in my writings. Some of my best stories and chapters have been written using a word bank of surnames. Here are some last names in  the last pages of my journal: Freda, Noel, Arbiter, Pries, Wingrove, Snow, Tang, Kirtzman, Spies, Sleeper, Lehman, Seidman, Schulman, and Gilman.

Now to add this list to the compendium.

Happy rest-of-May to you all. (Or to all of you.)

                                                         Newest journal, gift of B. K.

c 2018, PL, d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR U.S.A.

               

                               

Almost ready to move the furniture back into the living room after having the paneling, bookshelves and window frames painted

Washed all the windows, inside and out, plus the screens, washed down the ancient bricks, the hearth and the old screen that I--in an earlier year--sprayed with gold paint.

The book shelves are empty, but each day, I go through a box and decide which ones to keep; which ones to give away. The first day, I culled 8. Took the sack outside to write a poem about the effort, and ended up keeping half of them: 2 for my journalist son, and two for future gifts.

Today, I gave up  2 and kept 11. Perhaps by Saturday, either they'll all be back, dusted and loved, or in large sacks, also dusted and given away, for the library.

Billy helped get the push pins and silver star stick-ons down from above the window.

This also shows the unpainted, built-in shelves and the paneling from the 1970s. Jeff did a thorough job of Kilzing, priming and painting. The white color has a pink tinge to enhance the pinks and maroons of the sofas and mantel decorations. The name of the paint is Cultured Pearls.

The light-switch plate (paneling colored) must be replaced ASAP.

What's done is done and I'm poorer on the financial side right now, but richer for the enjoyment, enhancement, pride in a job done well by B.B., Inc. (ceiling) and Jeff (painting). Thank goodness for good workmen and women.

c 2018, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA