A Picture in My Pocketbook

The easiest thing about being a grandparent is taking sub-teen grandchildren to a playground.  And so it was that I found myself mid-week with my 10yr old grandson, and 8yr old granddaughter at our town’s rather impressive playground.  Our daughter and son-in-law were off for business related activities for a few days, and we were enlisted to provide food, shelter & entertainment for the kinder.

Maybe it was lucky that this visit coincided with their school vacation week, and that our school district was still in session… because it meant that there were just a few folk at the playground when we arrived.  Before going further, it should be well understood that playground was my area of expertise; the kids went to play, Grandpa Rick went to a bench to read Earthly Powers (my grandfather told me once that it was the finest novel ever written in the English language).

It was a beautiful spring day with a small wind playing under a blue sky. The few other adults in the playground looked to be stay-at-home-moms, or, like me, doting grandparents hoping to keep up with their young charges who raced from one apparatus to the next.

For me there is something so endearing about the sound of young children giggling and laughing on swings, dropping down slides, climbing a tangled weave of a jungle gym.  An ear piercing shout is not off-putting in the context of little ones traversing a mini zip line.  As a child I loved it.  I think I love watching it more now.

During a low in their general activity, I thought to retrieve a picture from my pocketbook.  My mom had found the picture amongst a collection of many, and gave it to me years ago.  It has been in my pocketbook ever since.  I look at my wonderful grandchildren, I look at the picture and I am happy that there is a gentle breeze to dry pleasant tears.

Me and my Grandfather (who I called Winnie-the-Pooh) & my first pocketbook

— O.H. Hume

Posted in Stories & Brief Tales | Leave a comment

2021 Michel Vattan M-K Sancerre

Posted in Wine | Leave a comment

Christina Rosé from Austria

Posted in Wine | Leave a comment

And then my 4th Grade teacher said…

When you’re in the fourth grade even the kids in the seventh grade are old.  Students in the high school are old enough to be full-on adults.  But it is safe to say that Miss Gladys Caulkins, my fourth grade teacher, would be considered old – even to my parents (my parents were not old… they were my parents, and for me, without perception of age).

Who knows? Miss Caulkins could have been considered old before WWII!  Carefully combed white hair, wire rimmed glasses, a thin cardigan over a lace collared blouse, dark mid-calf skirt and sensible stacked heel shoes. Could she be termed a spinster? Someone who only experienced a brief flicker of that love connection that somehow was sadly extinguished, never to be rekindled?

But this is undeniable.  Miss Caulkins had an abiding love for birds.  Something she picked up in college?   Maybe traced back to her childhood?  Regardless, it became her mission to extend our learning beyond the required “Three R’s” and to imbue in us a love for our feathered friends.  Birds were her love.

Our class went on bird walks.  Who doesn’t want to get out of a classroom?

But then there was the half year project to draw a bird in pastel.  This activity was coordinated with the art teacher who came to our room to help in this endeavor.  But it was Miss Caulkins who was there as critical overseer to correct our choice of feather color, posture of the bird, and selection of background (my bald eagle was on a nest, perched on a cliff ledge overlooking an expanse of sea).

Her attention to detail was with the foreknowledge that our poster-sized pastels would be on display in Cushing Auditorium for the upper classes to see.

Miss Caulkins invested so much in this bird enterprise… and perhaps feeling the accumulating stress of pushing a group of 4th graders to artistic heights that she emerged from behind her Edwardian rectitude when I asked, “Miss Caulkins, maybe I can put a wig on my bald eagle?”

To which the ever proper, lace collared Miss Caulkins returned, “Jimmy Winston, this world doesn’t need another smart ass.”

Posted in Childhood | Leave a comment