Stephanie says

  Sunday school and the smell of felt boards linger in my nose I learn about heaven, of angels singing hosannas in a celestial choir Of peace and joy eternal As a child I think it sounds very dull As a child I figure I'll end up there But not just yet.

  I took Henry bowling yesterday.  He’s been a few times while I haven’t bowled in likely 25 years.  You may be thinking I’m building up a defense on how my 11-year-old grandson beat me in all three games, and you’d be right.  It’s particularly galling since I’d bragged to him about consistently beating my mother who bowled on a league team for decades.   Back in the 1940s era there was a bowling alley in the Wendling/Marcola area, a popular activity which provided a little pin money (ha) to my MIL who’d work as a pin setter whenever she could.  Before the advent of electronic pin resets, bowling was more labor intensive as each pin was hand set.  Pin setters waited at the end of each lane for the first ball then they rushed to hand remove any fallen pins.  After the second ball all pins were reset for the next bowler.  Repeat until the game was over.     Now lanes boast digital scor...

  Mom was walking in downtown Myrtle Point and heard some commotion ahead.  She got closer and realized her young nieces were the culprits.  Aunt Carol left them in the car while she did some business (you could do that in those days,) and Gayle, Jeanne, and Betsy had rolled down the windows and were popping up to shout at passersby then ducking down to hide amid loud giggles.   Mom heard, “Look at the fat lady in the pink dress” and this is where she lost control of the story because at this precise point one of us would ask “Were you the fat lady in the pink dress?”  That really got her goat.  Kids.