Category Archives: Memories

Carl and Me

Memories, People

I’d forgotten about my reverence for Carl Sagan until my daughter played a mash-up video for me. I think I’d seen the video before, but her excitement about Carl Sagan brought back memories of my excitement about the man.

I must have liked his series, Cosmos, or something. I don’t remember why I liked him so much. It might have been because I was teaching science at the time and especially liked astronomy. I don’t even remember what decade it was, although the 1980’s is a safe bet. It could have been the 1990’s but I don’t remember having kids when he was my hero.

Anyway, whenever it was, I thought he was a demi-god and when I heard he was going to be at an event on the Mall, I made sure we went too. The event was commemorating the 1963 march on Washington — one of the half-decade anniversaries — probably the 25th because we would have had both Clare and Andrew by the 30th anniversary.

I had pretty high expectations back then. I assumed that since Carl Sagan was going to be on the Washington Mall, I would see him. He may have talked, I don’t know. Probably. He was famous and all. We’d planned on meeting up with friends but, in the days before cell phones, never connected. There were a heck of a lot of people there.

While listening to one speaker I looked up and realized I was standing next to Betty Thomas. And when I say up I mean UP. She is very tall. (Since Hill Street Blues ended in 1987, I’m more and more sure this event was in the 1980’s). Betty took no notice of me, but I felt like this was really an event since she was just part of the crowd.

Later, Dean and I walked around. I politely took,  and mistakenly looked at, a pamphlet from someone who was part of an organization I’d not heard of: PETA. No more meat for me until 1990 when I became pregnant with Clare.

We continued walking and saw a crowd of people ahead. As we got closer, I saw that the crowd was gathered around a dark haired man. As we got even closer I realized it was Carl Sagan. I stood on the outskirts of the crowd, wanting to tell him of my admiration, but being too afraid. He smiled and walked and talked with the crowd. I looked away and began walking — perhaps trying to find Dean or maybe just following him. I looked down at the ground — it was crowded. I didn’t want to fall. I bumped into someone. Looking up I saw I’d bumped into Carl Sagan. I muttered my apologies and ran away, heart beating faster than it probably should.

So, that’s the story of Carl and me.

Here’s the mash-up video if you have not seen it (I later fell in love with Bill Nye):

He painted clothespin men…

Memories, Things

I’ve written a bit about Jeremy here and there. We met on a student exchange. He lived in Yorkshire and I lived in Illinois. We were friends for several years and even talked of marrying someday. We visited back and forth for several years.

On one of his visits to Elgin we picked up a clothespin ornament kit from Lee Wards. It held paint, a paintbrush, clothespins, glue and felt as well as directions on how to assemble the ornaments. One evening — the evening before he was to go back to England — we assembled the ornaments.

Now if it were me, I would have made the faces basic. Two dots for the eyes, one dot for the nose and a curved line for the mouth. Not Jeremy. He was an artist. He gave the faces large, expressive eyes. He gave the faces freckles and cheekbones that blushed. He made even added knees to some of the ornaments. Arms occasionally wore wristwatches.

Being the not-an-artist of the pair I was assigned the task of gluing the felt clothes to the clothespin people — which turned out to be quite fun. We pretty much stayed up all night, but the results were awesome.

Jeremy fashioned several of the clothespin people after people in his life. Strangely, I was not turned into a clothespin person. Nor was my mom. But the rest of the family was as was his family. A couple times over.

He made a nurse that actually does look like his mom and a doctor that looked like his dad. His dad was also the hiker and I think Mrs. Claus was his mom. He made a policeman that could have been his brother Nick who was trying to become a British Constable. He made a cowboy that looked like my cousin Bob who was living with us at the time and who made our life a little hellish at times. He made a boy scout for my brother Kevin and a sailor for my dad. And no relation, but a common interest — the lumberjack held a bra (it since has been mostly lost).

A couple of years ago, after a decade or two of hinting, my mom finally gave me the ornaments and yesterday I put them on the tree.

The video below is about the artist L. S. Lowrey — an artist Jeremy introduced me to. The song was popular back then. Whenever I think about my clothespin men and women I think about this song.

Memories of Christmas Trees Past

Memories, ,

I don’t know where my family got their Christmas trees when when I was very young, but once I was a teenager — and possibly earlier — my mom and dad used to bundle my brother and me up and take us to a Christmas tree lot run by their friend. We’d arrive after dark and the owner would usher us into his heated shack where we’d sit on wool blanket lined benches in the welcome heat. The owner would pour my parents cups of Glögg. I don’t remember if my brother and I were offered any refreshment. I’d like to think we were offered hot chocolate or eggnog, but I suspect not. After a few drinks we’d head out and find a tree which the owner would sell to my dad at a reduced “friends and family” rate.

I spent one Christmas in England and Jeremy and I brought the Christmas tree home on a bus. I clearly remember sitting on the bus, holding our tree close to us (granted it was tiny, compared to the trees I was used to) while other riders did the same.

I don’t remember where Dean and I purchased our Christmas trees before we had kids, but once they could walk we began our “over the river and through the woods” trek to cut down a tree in Virginia. We’d do this every year on the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend and stop in Leesburg, Virginia for lunch before we got the tree.

This year we didn’t go to Virginia to get a tree Thanksgiving weekend. We talked about it but none of us were interested in making the trip. Clare had to go back to college on Sunday, so Sunday was not an option. I think I had a lot of work to do, so wanted to work on Saturday. We talked about doing it on Friday, but it didn’t happen.

So yesterday Dean and I drove up to Home Depot in Rockville and picked out a Balsam Fir (my favorite that we could never get at a cut-your-own lot) in 4 minutes. While I paid for the tree Dean brought the car close to the tree area and he and a Home Depot employee proceeded to Saran wrapped it to the top of the car. Not what we were used to, but we now have an incredible smelling tree in our living room.