Posts Tagged With: snowball fights

MEMORIES THROUGH CHRISTMAS CARDS

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Upon visiting a cousin in Marquette MI one year, I  saw a similar scene near a skating rink where a little boy, with tears streaming down his face,  got his tongue stuck to a metal pole and couldn’t get it off. No one thought to carry water, or realized how thirsty children get, even if it is snowing out. An adult with a cup of coffee freed him. So, of course, I had to have this card for my collection of that lesson learned.

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Little kids in snow country love to catch the first snowflakes with their tongues and suck on icicles. We never had the ice cream flavored icicles that these make-believe children have.

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And, oh, how many snow angels we made right after a fresh fall of snow.

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And every hillside our playground.

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We not only built snowmen and women and children, but igloos and snowball forts and caves. When I look at these cards I remember all that fun stuff. But, I wouldn’t want to go back to snow country.

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Most people from my childhood cut and hauled in a live tree. We didn’t go to a lot.

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And dad gave pointers on the way it is done, until you were old enough to do it yourself. My oldest brother chopped his first tree, beautiful and just the right size when viewed in the woods. When he dragged it home, we couldn’t get it through the door. But, we chopped it in half, the neighbor on our road used the top half and we used the bottom half. It all worked out.

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Sweeping off the sidewalk to feed the birds.

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The boy with the snowball reminds me of mittens so stuck with snow, we liked to chew it off so we could make another snowball. (Much to my mother’s chagrin.)

I’m on my way today to finish errands, get a last treatment from the chiropractor and maybe write a few Christmas cards. Hope you are enjoying the season as I am, no matter how busy.

 

 

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MURPHYS IRISH DAY CELEBRATION

This is a view of Murphys Irish Day around noon. People were bundled up but still determined to have a great day, and, they did.

That is because earlier, at 9:00, volunteers were out shoveling the white stuff off the streets. Then, once shoveled, where do you put it?

It had to go somewhere, so it kind of lay piled around in mounds here and there. I saw a few snowball fights, but the kids were respectful and took their fun away from people and onto lawns or side streets.
At the beginning of March, in preparation for this day, the street was painted with two huge clovers and the space between the double lines was painted green for the length of Main St. This is done legally, now. It wasn’t always so. The guys who started this affair, Jim Riggs and Bob Bliss,  would invite people over to Riggs Beauty Salon for corned beef sandwiches and beer. Then about midnight, after they’d had plenty of  liquid courage, they’d paint the single yellow line green with the help of anyone else willing to face arrest if caught.  The powers that be laid in wait and caught Jim Riggs, arrested him, and put him in jail one year. The judge was friendly to one of the outstanding merchants, movers and shakers about town, and Jim was released the next morning without charges being filed.  They finally made a deal to everyone’s satisfaction, and the practice continues to this day.

The local booths provided good eats and drinks of all kinds. The churches brought home made soda bread and  pies to sell.  The nearby Congregational Church held a pancake breakfast. The Native Sons provided corned beef sandwiches and green beer. There was all manner of barbeque, chicken, fries, corn dogs and other good stuff. I opted to get warm at the pancake breakfast and just missed the parade.

The last event of the parade is the manure scoopers with their little green wagon and shovel, but I couldn’t see any horses. I think it must have been a short parade this year.

Cute glasses.

The old foggie club.

I enjoyed the green trappings.

Meeting old friends. Glen Berry is once again President of the Native Sons, he told me to be sure and tell my son, Ken. (They’re old school chums.)

And young girls looking for an older boy than the one interested in them.

And the music. They had an Irish band, but this guy with his hammer dulcimer was fascinating to watch and hear.

Here is a very short sample. I was sorry I cut it off so soon.

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