Memory Monday: Mom & Dad

Every week Retired Not Tired hosts the Memory Monday blog hop. This week's prompt is My Parents. Let's hear about your Mom and Dad! Blog about it and share your memories!

_____________________________________

I affectionately refer to my parents as Nannie and Grandpa Lobster here on my blog. Isn't it cute? 

My Mom and Dad will celebrate 44 years of marriage at the end of this year. 44 years! Not many couples can say that! They met when my Mom was just 14 years old, and married when she was 17. And through all the ups-and-downs of life, they're still completely devoted to each other. They're still goofy with each other! "Teens" these days!

My Dad started off doing some golf caddying as a child then as a mechanic as a teen, but soon was working as a sternman for a lobsterman. He bought his own boat soon after and hauled traps for over 40 years before retiring a few years ago and driving a school bus.

My Mom worked a variety of jobs when we were growing up, crab meat picker, motel room cleaner and home day care provider, but mostly she was a stay-at-home Mom. And now? She also drives a school bus!

Grandpa Lobster loves his TV, golf and boxing, old westerns. And Nannie Lobster crochets and knits and has her chicken flock. They live a simple, quiet life on the island.  At least until they do the one thing that they love more than anything: Have ALL 5 of their grandkids over!

Make memories,

Memory Monday: My First Job

Every week Retired Not Tired hosts the Memory Monday blog hop. This week's prompt is My First Job. What was your very first job? Blog about it and share your memories!

_____________________________________

With 3 younger sisters and a Mom who had a small home day care for years, babysitting was the perfect first job for me. Family and family friends started calling for a sitter as soon as I turned 12, and by the time I moved away for college I had cared for over 100 kids. (Don't laugh! Out of curiosity, I made a LIST of the kids I watched.) When you consider I lived on a Maine island, well, 100 kids is a whole town!

Photo Source

The summer I was 13 1/2, I watched 4 kids full-time. The oldest was only a few years younger than I was and a handful at times. He was allowed to have friends over whenever he wanted, so sometimes I was watching 5 kids! (I looked forward to the days when he headed to his friends' houses instead...) The 3 younger girls behaved, but one was a toddler who was in the process of potty-training...Would you believe that I only got $2.00/hour? An exhausting, sometimes frustrating job for $16/day!

Babysitters get between $10-$15/hour for 1-2 kids now!

 Near the middle of summer, the parents wanted me to do housework too! Can you imagine the pile of dirty dishes a family of 6 produces? The house was cluttered. Piles of unwashed laundry! Sticky floors! And they were fighting a battle with fleas...

:: scratch scratch ::

But I found out that I could handle the responsibility of a passel of kids for long hours, learning new "parenting" skills that I'm sure helped me with my future 'sitting jobs, becoming a teacher, and being a Mom. Every experience can be a learning one!

And those 4 kids? They're all married with kids of their own now.

Memory Monday: My School Years

Each week Retired, Not Tired hosts Memory Monday. Click on over to see what other blogging buddies have shared about this week's prompt, and to find out what next week's prompt is. Why not share YOUR memories?

MY SCHOOL YEARS

When you grow up on a Maine island even school is different. Middle school AND high school continue to be in the same building to this day. And the gym is the biggest section of that building! We take our basketball seriously here, folks.

How many of you graduated with a class of only 34 students? And my grade was a BIG one! Except for a few students, I went from preschool through graduation with the same 22 boys and 12 girls. But even so there were peer groups, cliques, and dating dilemmas.

Well, not really dating dilemmas for me. I wasn't really interested. I dated a few boys, one for 3 years in high school, but my focus was on academics, extra-curriculars and working. Those things didn't leave me a lot of time for boys. 

As for cliques? There were two cliques in my high school: Those considered the POPULARS and EVERYONE ELSE. I got along with both groups. I played sports. I was in student counsel and National Honor Society. I quietly mingled and was known. But I was most comfortable with EVERYONE ELSE. EVERYONE ELSE were more interesting, more unique, and more welcoming. 

No group is without is drama. It is high school after all. But I was never one to get caught up in the drama. Mature beyond my years, I felt it was lame even then. 

And because I was considered quiet, studious, focused, I was not part of the POPULARS or EVERYONE ELSE that partied. 

Perhaps the partiers are a sub-group of both cliques?

I was OK with that though as I was a "good girl". I've always tried to do what is right, kind, and responsible. And sometimes that meant going against what either clique felt was cool. Sometimes I went my own separate way. Peer pressure? Nah!

This summer my graduating class will celebrate it's 25th reunion. Where did the time go?  After 2 1/2 decades I wonder if those cliques will divide us up once again...

Merry Memories!

Memory Monday: A Sticky Situation

I'm linking up to Memory Monday at Retired, Not Tired today. This week's writing prompt is: A Vacation Memory. If you would like to share your favorite (or not so favorite vacation memory) head on over and link up too.

_____________________________________

Have you ever camped? in a tent? with extended family? during a major thunderstorm? I think you see where I am going here...

Jake, Cati, Sam, and I headed out to a campground resort nearby with my parents. Although a campground resort has awesome extras like boat rides around the lake and a mini waterpark, sites are eensy-teensy (to squeeze in as many campers as possible). The 6 of us shared a postage stamp-sized camp size with a firepit, wooden picnic table, 1 vehicle and a 6 person dome LL Bean tent. (Our 2nd vehicle was parked in a nearby lot.) There wasn't much walking room between anything on our site.

At least until my parents camper van broke down and had a couple of overnights at the garage instead. Guess where we all slept (kind of)?

Now, our tent was rated for 6 people, but the rule of thumb around these parts is to divide that number in half for more comfortable quarters. Add in air mattresses, a busy box for Sam, clothing and personal toiletry items for 6, and it was cramped cozy.

Our neighbors, in a HUGE 5th wheeler big enough for 10 and encroaching onto our site, were kind enough to warn us of an incoming violent thunderstorm racing across from New Hampshire. Worried about the predicted high winds and downpours, we staked down the tent, covered it with a large tarp and staked that down as well in a chaotic, unorganized panic with 3 active kids, er, helping. Why we didn't just pile into our one working vehicle and head home or walk down to the rec hall and hang out is beyond me. We were going to "ride it out" though!

When the storm arrived we were all piled into the tent like sardines in a tin can. Fortunately, the storm wasn't that bad and we got through the night. (Unfortunately, a tree did come down on a pop-up camper in New Hampshire, killing two.)

But our night wasn't without mishaps. 

My Dad had staked down the tarp so well that getting in and out of the tent was like escaping a straight jacket, only a lot of wiggling and twisting was it possible. And I had 3 young kids, including a toddler who needed frequent trips to the potty (under the "cover" of  an umbrella HE insisted on holding). Stumbling around multiple air mattresses, too many people and STUFF, and crawling out a partially opened tent door without getting muddy was exhausting (and a wee bit frustrating).

With the mesh ventilation covered, we got mighty hot and muggy inside that tent. It was summer. Although not particularly hot temperature wise, that many soggy people in a 10x10 tent made for a sticky situation.

And then air mattresses started deflating. Have you ever slept on hard-packed ground riddled with tree roots? Yeah.

But did we laugh! We shared stories, growing up ones, other mishaps and adventures (that you only see the humor in years later), embarrassing moments, and snuggled together as one big happy (sweaty) family onto the 2 inflated air mattresses. Sometimes you just need to make the very best of a sticky situation!

Memory Mondays: Christmas Memories

This week I'm joining Memory Monday over at Retired Not Tired. Each week she provides a writing prompt. (Next week is My Husband.) Why not head over and share your memories?

Christmas Memories

A round rubber Santa tree topper. Our Christmas tree wasn't the same when ole Santa dry-rotted after 20 years? and was replaced by a white, lacy Angel with yellowy tea lights. Santa wasn't even REALLY a tree topper, but a toy that I fondly remember growing up. "He" was attached to the top with a piece of glittery, tinsel-type garland, a different color each year. And I never got a picture of "him"...

I searched and searched on-line, but could only find something SIMILAR our Santa of the '70s. Perhaps he was one of a kind?

Photo Credit

But even more special was the times when my younger sister Jenny and I would lay down in front of the tree while the lights flashed on and off in no particular pattern and the livingroom was dark. We would dream about what Santa and our Mom and Dad would bring us for presents as the colors danced on the ceiling above. It didn't matter that for years there was no carpet and we were laying on a cold, linoleum floor.

Photo Credit

Merry Christmas!

Memory Monday: Our Pet Family

This week I'm joining Memory Monday over at Retired Not Tired. Each week she provides a writing prompt. (Next week is Most Influential Person.) Why not head over and share your memories? 

MY FAMILY

I could tell you about my family. I have 3 wonderful kids. My oldest son is almost 16, a bright, calm young man, active in scouts. My daughter is almost 13, a creative young lady, with musical talent. And my youngest son, almost 10, an inept builder and great for home repairs. But I decided to go a different "route" and share my PET FAMILY MEMBERS with you instead.

THE DOGS
Rosie, our Golden Retriever, is 9 now. She came to our family as an 8-week-old puppy soon after we moved into our home. (She was quite motion sick on her way home that day...) She loves a good walk with puddle exploration.What Retriever doesn't like water? Winnie, our Nova Scotia Canadian Toller, also 9, arrived only 1 1/2 years ago. My sister could no longer take care of her with her long work hours so we welcomed her into our home. She's calm and oh-so-sweet. But she has a deep bark that does NOT match her gentleness.

Rosie with Spiderman on Skates

THE CAT
Stripe was brought home one evening by my daughter. I was bathing her little brother when she walked in with this tiny kitten with the biggest blue eyes ever. So scared! She and her friends had found 2 kittens abandoned on the side of the road. Perhaps by a feral mother? They found a home for the other kitten, but not for Stripe. She was in rough shape, dehydrated and only about 3 weeks old. She couldn't stand, but with diligent effort she made it through. She's 4 now, feisty, dog-like. She loves scratching through the Legos to find rubber tires to throw around and chase.

Stripe Helping with Homeschooling

THE FOWL

Sam's Drawing Several Years Ago

3 1/2 years ago we incubated chicken eggs with the intent on giving any chicks to my mom. But, after watching them hatch, we couldn't part from them. They were just too fuzzy! 3 of our 10 chicks were roosters and were rehomed nearby as "teenagers", and another, our first to hatch, died suddenly one afternoon when she was 1 1/2 years old. (I suspect a poor crop...) Since then we added another hen who was getting pecked on by the others in my mom's flock, and 3 "babies" who are now 1 1/2. A total of 10 hens. But they weren't enough. We also added 2 Pekin ducks - AFLAK! - to our flock from a friend who was wanting to rehome them. Those two are quite a pair! They are constantly quacking to each other, arguing, but never far from one another.

Olive and Opal

Memories are wonderful!

Memory Monday: My First Friend

This week I'm joining Memory Monday over at Retired Not Tired. Each week she provides a writing prompt. (Next week is My Family .) Why not head over and share your memories? 

My first friend? Let's see...

.My very first friend to come over and play was W___. (Or at least the first one that I remember having playdates with...) W__ was the youngest daughter of my Dad's best friend at the time, another lobsterman, and she lived about 5 miles away, near Clam City on the island. She had this GORGEOUS super long and thick dark brown hair and LOVED to read.

She a talker! I've never been one to chat on the phone with girlfriends, even as a teen, but she would call up after we spent the day in and out of classes together, wanting to talk for an hour or two, in ELEMENTARY SCHOOL.

For a while we had a movie theater on the island, so we would see movies together on the weekends. "Mr. Mom" was one and "Tootsie" another. Oh, and "Xanadu" with Olivia Newton-John. Do you remember those? We were BIG on roller skating, going with our local rec group to "the city" on roller skating nights once a month and stopping at McDonald's. A huge treat!

We had overnights. We ice skated. We played Atari.We teased and tricked our sisters.

But when we reached junior high our friendship changed a bit. We didn't hang out as much. We connected with other girls, had other interests. And in 7th grade she and her family moved away. Over the course of a few years we lost contact. In the years since we have reconnected through Facebook and, believe it or not, the PHONE. We each have our families, children, but there will always be that comfortable friendship from our childhood.

Photo Source

Memory Monday: My First Date

This week I'm joining Memory Monday over at Retired Not Tired. Each week she provides a writing prompt. (Next week is My First Friend.) Why not head over and share your memories? 

Er. I don't remember ever really DATING in high school.

When you grow up on an island things are different. I had a boyfriend from age 15-18 with a few short-term ones before that. I just wasn't interested in dating. And, really, where would we go? There aren't movies or bowling or malls around on the island...

I was also a busy girl! Not only did I take the hardest classes offered (mostly) and received great marks, but I was a go-getter. I was president of the National Honor Society, secretary or treasurer (depending on the year) in Student Council, played varsity basketball and softball, participated in Model UN and Girl's State (state government), and I worked part-time to boot so I could have a car. I was determined to focus on academics and head off to college, and boys just weren't going to derail me from that. I guess you could say I was...focused!

Dating NOW worries me. I hope my own kids decide to postpone dating until, oh, their 30s...

Memory Monday: My First School

This week I'm joining Memory Monday over at Retired Not Tired. Each week she provides a writing prompt. Why not head over and share your memories? 

Oh, my first school, my first year in school, kindergarten...

I do remember kindergarten, and my teacher Mrs. B__. She was an older woman, soon to retire, set in her ways, quite old fashioned. I don't remember how she looked, or rather just fleeting memories of a tall, slender woman with graying hair piled onto the top of her head, glasses, and polyvester '70s skirts. How could one forget those '70s colors? But I'm not sure how accurate that picture is considering the memory is from, er, 37 years ago.

My Elementary School, Now a Community and Business Building - Photo Credit

I was a precocious child. I wouldn't say I was a handful, but more strong-willed with ideas of my own that I didn't hesitate to explore (even when something else was expected of me). I had no real interest in reading or learning math, but spent most of kindergarten making "books" out of construction paper. I don't remember USING those books, just making piles and piles of them until Mrs. B___ considered them a waste of time and materials, Soon, I was limited to just one a week.

I also did a lot of talking and playing with J___, a boy I went to preschool with the year before. We had a good ol' time in preschool too...

And, oh no! I was left-handed. How was a teacher supposed to teach a left-hander to write? Mrs. B___ even encouraged my Mom to force me to write with my right hand. She didn't bargain on that my Mom was left-handed too. I'm still a lefty!

But my biggest memory was Mrs. B__'s doll. The doll! It was a rag doll with a squishy-soft body and a painted plastic face. This doll had a smiley, happy face on one side, and a frowny, sad face on the other. She used it to convey her feelings about our behaviors. Guess what face I saw? Yeah, the frowny one. 

Photo Credit

But despite the doll, I have some good memories of kindergarten too, the milk cartons in the morning and the special snacks I brought from home, the wooden puzzles I loved doing, recess...and drawing horses with heart faces.

Memory Monday: My First Home

This week I'm joining Memory Monday over at Retired Not Tired. Each week she provides a writing prompt. (Next week is My First School.) Why not head over and share your memories? 

MY FIRST HOME

(I think I was supposed to blog about my first home as an adult, but I'm going another direction with this writing prompt...)

Oh, my first home...I grew up on an island off the coast of Maine. Not as small as you might think, with over 2400 year round residents and several small towns, it's a unique place to live. What other kind of place can boast having 4? post offices within a span of about 13 by 9 miles? or numerous tiny villages including Clam City?

Photo Credit

I'm often asked how we get onto the island. Did you wonder? We have a suspension bridge build in 1939 that spans from the mainland to a smaller island. This smaller island is connection to a larger island by a causeway which is a road built on a naturally curvy sandbar.

Suspension Bridge

My childhood home is nestled in the mostly evergreen forest at the end of a quaint one-and-half lane road near a hill that used to be peppered with wild blueberries. Through the woods, hidden, is the remains of a granite quarry no longer mined and a small, deep pond. Many discarded, imperfect granite slabs are piled up, making safe homes for small animals. The air is filled with the briny, damp smell of the Atlantic as muted boat engines rev off in the distance and seagulls shriek overhead.

Granite - Photo Credit

It's a fishing village. Livelihoods are dependent on the ocean, lobstering of course, but also clams, scallops, mussels, and, off the coast a bit, other types of fish. My Dad was a lobsterman for most of his life, a physically demanding, uncomfortable job, and one he loved. Other people work in restaurants, small art shops and local businesses, and the school system.

Photo Credit

As a child, my fondest memories are of packing up a simple sandwich lunch with instant iced tea and walking up the "mountain" to pick blueberries with my sister and our Collie Sandy (who loved iced tea). The walk was through the woods onto granite rocks where wild blueberries grew unattended. We would pick blueberries here and there, but mostly explore and have imaginative adventures on sunny days. (Ironically, I wouldn't eat the blueberries we picked. Mostly my Dad would have blueberries and milk or my Mom would make muffins or bread.)

Photo Credit

We also spent many days at the ocean, searching through the rocky beaches for periwinkles and beach glass, swimming in the COLD, salty water, playing with brown seaweed and little crabs, and walking in the pungant mud flats before the tides came in.

The Rocky Coast

Not many kids get to grow up the way I did. As I get older, I realize just how fortunate I was! And no matter where I go, the call of the ocean is always there...