Summer Science Projects--Specimens

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Again summer of 1969 or 1970-Middle School

We had a German Shepard named Lady. Lady was a beautiful dog. She had a litter of puppies that summer and we did not even realize she was pregnant. When she came home carrying a puppy in her mouth we set her up in the garage with a blanket and food and water. She retrieved about 6 little puppies from the woods behind our house. The puppies were very cute. Lady was very protective. We did limit our contact with the puppies.

About 3 days after they were born we noticed one of the puppies was dead. Lady had been laying on the puppy with full body weight. We thought it was an accident or it had just died of natural causes. We buried it in the back yard. The next day 3 more were dead. My mother thought that Lady was smothering the puppies. I had never heard of that before but she said that some animals control their populations by smothering the babies or eating them. I was mortified! My father removed those puppies and lady was left with 2 puppies. We decided to separate her and the puppies for a while. We called the vet hoping to save the other two. We were able to keep them separate except to nurse and we supervised the nursing. This worked for about 2 weeks. We thought things were okay with Lady so we let her and the puppies stay together for about a week. Things were going well.

Infanticide: Cub killing among lions: Of the higher mammals, the lion shows the most definite cannibalistic tendencies. There have been many reports of male lions killing and then sometimes eating young cubs. In almost all cases, however, the male lion is prompted to kill the cub, not from hunger or population pressure, but by a need to safeguard his own offspring. In most cases, the young are killed but not eaten. This is better described as infanticide, the killing of young, rather than cannibalism.

This extreme behavior is linked to the fact that a female lion reproduces quite slowly, usually coming into season again only after her cubs have become independent. Also, the male has a short breeding period of only about three years. By killing any cubs and young lions already present, he both encourages the females to come into season and eliminates the chance of any rivalry against offspring he later fathers.

We went out to go grocery shopping and when we came back the other two puppies were dead. She killed them all. My brother and I were very sad. She must have sat on then and smothered them as well. My father removed those puppies. This was most likely during the month of May.

Jump ahead to maybe September or October. One day on a Saturday after being out with my mother and brother shopping we come home to a horrible smell. So horrible it cannot be described. It permeated the entire house and we did not know what it was or where it was coming from. We opened all the windows and doors and began to look for what ever it was. We looked under beds, in the bathrooms, in the garage, in closets. We looked for about 40 minutes before finding it. It smelled like rotting meat with some sort of chemical mixed with it.

The last place we looked was the kitchen. We had all cleaned the kitchen that morning and it was spotless so there was no way it could be coming from there. But it was.

We looked underneath the kitchen sink and got a horrible surprise. My father, still in science experiment mode from the summer, had taken matters into his own hands. He had placed three of the puppies in three of those large pickle jars I told you about in the Shadow Box post. He filled the jars with rubbing alcohol in order to preserve them. Well, I guess rubbing alcohol is not the same as formaldehyde. Who knew?

Those puppies had begun to swell in those pickle jars filled with rubbing alcohol and the pressure became too great. The puppies exploded and then the jars did. We had exploded puppies and puppy juice and alcohol covering the bottom of the shelf under the sink and running out onto the kitchen floor. I got just a glimpse of the exploded mess before my mother screamed for me to get out the room and take my brother with me. I never got the full effect. I guess I should be happy. My mother was ranting and raving about biohazards in her kitchen! We did not clean it up. Instead she said that we had to leave the house and she would have my father clean that mess up when he got home. We went back to the mall and waited.

Once the time arrived for him to arrive home, my mother called and told him he had to clean up that mess before we came home. My mother and brother and I ate dinner out at the S&S Cafeteria. (That company has long gone out of business) We went home and all the windows were open-doors too-with fans going to air the place out. It took about two weeks for the smell to subside and a full month to go away altogether.

My mother asked my father what was he thinking. He said he was trying to preserve the puppies for my brother and I to take in for a science show and tell. It was to be a surprise. We thought all the puppies had been buried in the back yard. It was a surprise all right! Dead puppies are no joke!

Dead Puppy and Dead Baby Jokes!
Remember these from the 80's?
-----
What's present do you get for a dead baby?
A dead puppy.

Summer Science Projects--Shadow Boxes

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Summer Science Projects--Shadow Boxes Republished.

Kids need something to do!
Summer 1969

My mother was a school teacher for 35 years. When school was out her "teacher mode" did not fade to black. It continued on with my brother and I. We had to read 3 books a week for required reading. More if we had time. The mobile library came to our neighborhood each week so the books were endless. In addition to reading we had lots of educational games to play and we also had a large science lab complete with bunson burners, beakers and protective eye goggles. Let's not forget the recipe book of science experiments. While our friends were outside playing ALL day, we were outside PART of the day. The rest was spent inside "being educational."

One of the things my brother and I did was try to get ready for the upcoming year by making a few science projects in advance. My favorite thing to make was shadow boxes. Shoe boxes made the best shadow boxes. I would cover the inside with contruction paper to highlite whatever I was showcasing. The items to be shown off were glued to the bottom with elmer's glue and saran wrap was the cover. They always looked good when I got done.

I loved to showcase lichen and mushrooms. The would maintain their brillant colors all summer and always got me an "A!" I would glue a plush green layer of moss to the botton of the shoe box, glue in the mushrooms and lichen and soon I had a small fungus microcosm.

One other item that was a big hit in science was skeletons. What skeletons? Well let me tell you. My mother was a big pickle eater back when I was small. She would buy pickles by the big gallon jar. A few jars would wind up in the garage stacked for a rainy day when we might need a jar for something. One summer I notice a frog that had been run over by a car all except for one leg. It was black and flat everywhere else. The one leg that was not roadkill was covered with ants. I looked closer and it seemed to me the ants were eating that leg. Pieces of it were being carried off by a thin stream of ants that led off to the shoulder of the road.

I ran to get a pickle jar and a small shovel. I dug up the ant nest and put it in the pickle jar. I filled the jar about 1/2 full. A few itchy stings later, I had an ant farm. I let the ants sit for about a week and get adjusted to their new surroundings. My brother did the same thing. Then we each caught one frog and one lizard. Not in the same week of course. We would place the frog or lizard in the ant farm. It was survival of the fittest for that frog or lizard. Sounds a little cruel but we were kids and only in the 3rd grade. We were young scientists!

Well, in about an hour that frog or lizard was entirely covered in black ants and was no longer moving, jumping or hopping. There may be a blink or two of an eye but that was all. The jars would again be left to sit for a week. After a week or two we would have a perfectly whole frog or lizard skeleton. Depending on the placement we would be able to lift the skelton out whole. If not we would crack open the jar with a small mallet to get the sleleton out.

The skeleton would be gleaming white and picked clean to the bone. Next we would shellac the skeleton, let it dry and then mount it in the shadow box. The ants were returned to the yard. My brother and I only made one frog and lizard skeleton a piece, per summer. Once in the shadow boxes those skeletons waited until the perfect day to take to school for show and tell or a special science project.

Sex-What is It?

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Summer 1973

The sex talk. Doesn't everyone get one from your mom or pop? I think it depends on the era in which you are raised. I got some wishy washy, vague answer when I asked. It was never explained to me. In my youth sex was taboo. Noone talked about it. I did get the standard filmstrips in health class so I did get basic information that way. It is not the best way. Parents should talk to their kids about sex. So that they get the correct perspective at least once. I plan to go a better job communicating with my kids. When I got to college (and I was a very late bloomer) I read books to get the real story about sex.

These days you have to communicate. Sex is everywhere and it is out in the open. What could be a seemingly innocent family sitcom on tv can be loaded with sex--and not necessarily good for young children to watch. We all know about the Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction.

Music these days are loaded with sex talk. Artists today have to make 2 versions of songs..the real version and the edited version without the curse words. Thank goodness for Walmart who carries the edited version. Even that is not really enough because the entire song could be about sex--all with a good dance beat! Can we all say together Missy Elliott(just one of many) who has lots of sex loaded songs. One of her songs on the Under Construction cd talks about coochie not failing her now! I got introduced to Missy when my nephew sent my child a burned cd. I had not really heard of her. It just sounded like dance wrap music. I offered to play it in the car soon after she got it. Once I heard the words I had to make that cd disappear!

These days talk about body parts are everywhere..even on the radio as talk shows. Sue Johansen is just one I can think of. I have not heard the show but my coworkers have commented on it. She hosts the Sunday Night Sex Talk Show. Body parts being talked about openly is common place. Penis, Vagina, Johnson, Hooters...anything goes these days. Gone are the days when sex was never talked about. Now I worry about getting to my children with correct information about sex before the television, radio or music gets to them first.

The 2 books I read in college to learn about sex are the Joy of Sex and How to Make Love to a Man. Two other popular books today are listed below as well. I have skimmed those at my local bookstore. Books are fine but real talking with understanding would have been better for me.

Parents need to talk with their kids. I just wish mine had done a better job.

Gift for the Teacher

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Middle School 1973

It was the last day of school and I had brought in a beautiful, crystal bowl for my teacher. My mother bought it and had wrapped it in beautiful floral wrapping paper. That year had been a very bad year. I was bullied that year and for all the years I had been in middle school. I walked the halls of that school in fear. I could not walk home the regular way--a path through the woods that would get me home in 4 minutes. I had tried many times and had to run for my life. Gangs of girls were always waiting for me or following me to beat me up. I learned how to run...fast.

I even tried varying my times leaving school--waiting until everyone was just about gone before I started home. Those girls soon learned to leave late also or wait for me in the woods. I had to run even faster. Finally, I had to take the long way to get home. Noone went that way. It meant I had to walk on the highway to get to my neighborhood to get home. It was about a 40 minute walk each way. Noone bothered me once I began to take that way home. They would have to walk for 40 minutes also.

Well, I was waiting in line by the classroom door for school to begin. Two of the most vicious girls that had been my tormentors the entire school year snatched the crystal bowl from my hands and refused to give it back. We struggled for the bowl and they finally wrenched it away from me and ran. I was crushed. Being the daughter of a school teacher, it was customary for me to give teacher gifts for all occasions. They ran off with my gift and I ran crying to the priciple's office. I knew they would never give that bowl back to me.

The principle and I walked around the school and I pointed out the girls. They did not have the bowl. I explained that I had a crystal bowl and what happened. The principle asked where the bowl was and they said they did not know. The principle knew they were lying and told me to go back to class, he would handle it. I did. About 15 minutes later I was called out of class to the hallway. The principle was there with the girls and my bowl. I assumed it was broken. It was not-unbelievable. It looked intact. The principle told the girl to give me the bowl back. She did. I held out my hands to take it and instead of placing it in my hands she shoved the bowl into my stomach as hard as she could. It knocked the breathe out of me. The principle hauled her away. I got my bowl and I was able to determine that it was not broken. I gave it to my teacher.

The next year my mother placed me back in a private school where I finished school with no more bullies. The damage had already been done though. I was timid, very fearful and my self confidence had been trampled for 3 years of public school and being bullied.

To this day I still bear those scars. Whenever I see one of them around town, I just look at them wondering if they rememeber me and what they did or do they even realize the impact? The thing that I do notice is that they seem to have low paying jobs in the service industry. They never went to college and still seem stuck in that mode they were in. They say the best revenge is living well and I live well and have done well but I still want to know have they suffered any in their lives like I did at their hands? What goes around comes around. I just wish I were there to see it.
----
I can see how teens turn to seek revenge on their bullies. You just want to be left alone.

First Plane Ride

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Elementary and middle school summers.

Canada-my second home. When My brother and I were small my mom used to send us off to summer in Canada. I remember the first time we went. I was terrified. I wish my mother had explained what to expect on the first plane ride. I would not been so terrified. I was, first of all, afraid of the plane ride. My mom had arranged for Delta airlines to get my brother and I to the necessary gates to transfer flights in Atlanta. That was okay. The attendants did a great job and I even got wings. So did my brother.

The ride was so stressful, I began to pray when we first took off and I asked for a sign that I would survive the trip. I was sitting in a seat with just the panel in front of me next to the window. When I opened my eyes from praying I saw the word "GOD" right in front of me in the design of the wood paneling. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me so I closed them and looked again. Was this my sign? It was. All of a sudden a peace came over me and I knew everything would be alright.

The next thing that freaked me out was the meal. It was a very long flight after we switched planes on the last leg to Canada. The attendants asked our menu choices for dinner. I did not know if it was free or if we had to pay for it. My mother had given me $20 for me and $20 for my brother. We were hungry. I was panicked. Was the meal free? Did we have to pay? I tried to see what other people were doing as far as meals. Were they pulling out money? I could not tell. I just said to myself that if I was asked for money I would have to give up the $40 and pay for the meal. I would just sit quietly and not say anything about paying for it. The meal came and we ate. It was not an enjoyable meal for me. I was panicked about having to give up the $40. That was to last us for all the time we were in Canada for little things we wanted to buy for ourselves.

The meal was complete and no one asked me for money. I was finally relieved. We finally touched down in Canada. I was expecting my aunt and uncle to be there. Were they? HELL NO! I had to call them from the airport and they were still at home. She said she did not know what time we were coming in. They lived about 40 minutes away so we had to wait at least an hour to be picked up. I was mad at her and my mother. There was no coordination it seems between the 2 of them about the final details. Finally they picked us up. It could only get better from there.

Floating Down the Amazon in a Dugout Canoe

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Senior year college-1983

Yanomamo Girl

That was my only goal in life at the time...to float down the Amazon River in a dugout canoe. It was my life's goal. I was an anthropology major and had prepared for working in a third world country. I had taken so much Spanish that I was pretty darned fluent. (Try this if you aren't) I had planned to join the Peace Corps when I graduated and then begin the world of work. I was ready to go off and see the world and assist all those Spanish speaking 3rd world countries.

I loved anthropology. I loved reading about all those exotic countries and ways of life. Margaret Mead was my heroine. I had read all of her books and wanted to do the sort of things she had done. My favorite book by her was Growing Up in New Guinea. It was written in 1930 about the people who lived in Manus in the Admiralty Islands who had not been exposed to what we call the outside world at all. Believe it or not I still have a copy of it on my book shelf.

I had a wonderful anthropology professor for all 4 years as well. His name was Gary Brana-Shute. He inspired me in many different ways during college and for years after. While the time "may" --and I mean "may" be past for floating down the Amazon in a dugout canoe, I still have that yearning inside to do just that due to him. He gave great lectures on the population he studied when he was in school. He studied the people of Paramaribo, Suriname. Specifically, male behavior of that population. He has, of course, written several books and many articles on the subject. Gary Brana-Shute's main book on the topic is On The Corner: Male Social Life in a Paramaribo Creole Neighborhood. He also wrote Crime and Punishment in the Caribbean.

We had to study many different cultures during school but the one that stands out the most in my memory is the Yanomamo. They are a fierce, warring, tribe of people who live in the rain forests of central Brazil. They have no real written language, wear minimal clothing and the men are the leaders of the tribe. They do have a detailed religion based on story telling and the use of hallucinogenic drugs. They are, I think, the last population of the world to be exposed to modern civilization. I do know that many books have been written about them and their culture is being destroyed as the rainforests are being cut down. They have been featured in National Geographic.


Well to get back to me in 1983, I had mailed in my application for the Peace Corps and had been accepted. I told my mom what I planned to do. The "you know what" hit the fan. She said I could not go for many reasons. She mentioned the danger about Peace Corps volunteers being killed as the main thing. That was not a deterrent to me, I was an anthropology major. There was not a culture in the world I could not understand without a little study on the people. I was ready for total culture immersion. I told her I was going. She then began with another tactic. She had paid for 4 years of college and I was going to put it to good use. I was going to get a paying job and not one that may pay $30 a month with the Peace Corps. Well there was not any letup so eventually she wore me down and I did get a job. I put my dream of the Peace Corps off for a while, but the while never ended.

The closest I get to the wilderness is watching Survivor and the Amazing Race on tv.
To this day I have the yearning to run off and see the world--to ride down the Amazon in a dugout canoe--to eat roasted tarantulas around a campfire and to bathe with the pirahna.
~~~~~~~~~~~
check out my favorite anthropology books:

Growing
Up In
New Guinea

On The
Corner

Spirit
of the
Rain Forest

Reading ....A Lifetime of Joy

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Years: All My Life

All my life I have loved to read. Whenever times were bad I could always loose myself in a book. Reading would take me away from the pain and allow my mind to rest and focus on something else other than the chaos that was my life at that particular time. I read the same books over and over if I love them. I still have most of the books I have ever bought. In fact they are running over and taking over my house.

I have always loved the macabre. I just love that word---the macabre! Horror, ghosts and things that go "bump" in the night are my passion. Consequently, one of my most favorite authors is none other than the man himself--Stephen King! I remember when I would sit down with a new novel of his and read it cover to cover in 2 days. I would not sleep until that book was finished. I love just about everything he has ever written but here are a few of my favorites! Check some of them out yourself. You will not be sorry...or will you???
------------

----
There are many honorable mentions by Stephen King: The Dead Zone, The Stand, The Shining, The Langoliers, Carrier, Firestarter and many more.

When I was in middle school one of my favorite books was Little Women and the sequel Little Men both by Louisa May Alcott

Clive Barker is also another favorite. I have read all of the Books of Blood and really enjoyed the Hellraiser series.

PIN HEAD: A FACE
ONLY A MOTHER
COULD LOVE!

~~~~~~~~~~~

My younger years were heavily influenced by Harlequin Romances! I grew up thinking that every girl had a prince charming who ride off into the sunset with her. Boy was I wrong! Prince Charming is not out there. It took me a long time to stop waiting on him to find me. Hot Book to read now is In Silence by Erica Spindler. Other great books from the past that I love are Jane Eyre, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and Lord of the Flies!

Summer is here--where I am. It is 90 degrees and above. Pick out a good book to read and have some fun! Last but not least, do not forget about Summer People by Marge Piercy! Reading is fundamental! Really!

~~~~ ~~~~

The Last Day of School

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

May 1973

My mother always used to say that her mother came back to her in dreams. We thought she was crazy and mystical and pooh-poohed her away with all of that nonsense. It was may and I was just about to get out of the 7th grade. It was the weekend before the last week of school and there was to be parties everyday next week. I was looking forward to all those parties. Well Sunday night came and my mother said that she was keeping us--my brother and I home next week. I was devastated. I was going to miss all of my parties. I asked my mother why??? Why was she going to spoil all our fun that was planned for the last week of school?

My mother told me her mother came to her in a dream and told her that something was going to happen the last week of school. She did not know who or what but she was sure of the time frame--the last week of school. We were condemned. We stayed home. She was a school teacher but she went to school. She knew it was safe for her and took the warning that it had to relate to my brother and I since the last week of
"school" was mentioned. There was nothing my brother or I could do or say that would change her mind. We had to stay home.

Monday came. Nothing happened. Tuesday came. Nothing happened. Wednesday came and it was about 1:00pm when there was a knock at the front door. It was the last full day of school. It was the neighbor who lived across the street from us. I was afraid to open the door. My mother did not say where the "bad thing" was going to happen. Supposed my brother and I were sitting ducks at home? This knock at the door could be fatal for my brother and I. Why on earth was the neighbor knocking? How did he know anyone was home? Noone knew my brother and I were at home.

The knocking continued. Louder and longer. He was a school teacher at another school in the district. Finally I cracked the front window--not the door and said hello. It could be a trick for him to get into the house. He could be a killer. He said he had gotten a call from my mother and that she would be home soon to pick us up. I asked why as school was not out yet. It was early. He said she would be home soon but he was checking on us. It was all very strange. Something was wrong and I did not know what. The neighbor seemed worried. He left and I locked the window and waited.

My mother got home a little while after that and she was frazzled. She said that we had to go hospital. My father had been injured. As she hustled around getting his underwear and socks and slippers and robe she was all the time muttering to herself that she thought it was going to be the kids, not him. The kids, not him. She did not think about him being in danger. Once she got all the clothes packed, she sat for just a short while on the living room sofa to collect herself. I asked for details as i still did not know what had happened to my father. Finally my mother tearfully told me.

My father worked at a naval shipyard as a marine electrician. He had been working that week on a submarine in a dry dock. He had to work on scaffolding that was the height of 3 telephone poles stacked on top of each other. He fell from that scaffolding onto the cement floor of the dry dock and broke his neck. His fellow workers were helpless to do anything but watch him fall silently through the sky. They did say that he left long nail scratches down the side of the sub as he desperately tried to catch onto anything to stop his fall on the way down.

We spent the long, hot summer that year at the hospital. We went everyday and stayed all day long. Our playground that summer was the long, sterile hallways of the hostital. My father lived and made a full recovery after a long period of recouperation.

Never again did I take my mothers warings as crazy ramblings. She does have some sort of conection with the spirit world with my grandmother as her contact. There have been many other warnings since that of the "last day of school" warning. They have all come true as well. Some, I think, may have even saved my life.

Happy Mother's Day

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Please take time today to pay tribute to your mom.

Happy Mother's Day

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Freshman year of high school..1975

It was my first year of high school and a friend of mine in school helped me get my first job. There were about 4 of us who worked at our first jobs together. We worked during the summer for the county making lunches for the free lunch program. Back then we would get to work about 7am and work on an assembly line making sandwiches and putting together boxed lunches. The lunches were packed on trucks and then distributed to area programs and neighborhoods when children were in need.

When the summer was over, a few of us were offered jobs at the local university hospital who helped to sponsor the free lunch program during the summer. We worked in the student union cafeteria clearing the tables and loading the dishwasher. I did save a little money. For the very first time I was able to actually buy a card or gift on my own for a member of my family on a special day like a birthday or holiday.

My mom, as long as I have been alive has had some sort of mental health issue. Anger issues, paranoia, emotional issues (several nervous breakdowns), the inability to get along with anyone and always thinking everything was personally against her. Needless to say our household was chaotic behind closed doors. To the community we looked like the perfect family--or almost the perfect family. She was very cruel and abusive to me most of my life. Holidays were especially bad for me. Mother's day that year was no exception.

I was the good child. I had to be. I had to do what ever I had to to survive. I realized something was wrong with my mother at an early age and that is the only thing that saved my life. I lived in survival mode 24 hours a day. Well, that Mother's Day I had money to spend. I was excited. I was going to do something wonderful for my mother in hopes that just one day...that one day...I would get some glimmer of hope that I was loved by someone in the world--my mother. I got a beautiful card and it was beautiful. The front had a little girl on it and inside the words said something to effect of how appreciative I was of all the things she did for me as a mother and that I just wanted to be her little girl. I was desperate go get any sort of warmth from her. I also ordered a dozen roses. I had arranged for the flowers to be delived on Saturday. I was so very excited. As far as I could remember she had never gotten any sort of flowers--not even from my father.

I was quivering with excitement all Saturday morning and by noon my flowers had not arrived. I called the florist to check. They had a lot of deliveries that day but I was still scheduled. Around 2pm the door bell rang. I stayed in my room and let my mother answer the door. It was the florist! I would be the favorite child now--or at least for the day. My mom got flowers and the card and took them to the living room. I still did not tell her they were from me. She would have to read the card to find that out. My father, brother and I all went to the living room to look at those beautiful red roses.

She read the card and looked at the flowers. She said they were pretty. She left them on the living room table and went to the kitchen. Well, there was nothing I expected. Where was my, "thank you?", my hug and a kiss and a compliment for such a beautiful bunch of roses? The ooh's and aah's over the beautiful card? They never came. I was hurt and decided I would wait a little while and ask her about them myself. Maybe she was overwhelmed. (A child has to have some hope. Even with years of abuse we still want that approval from the abuser.)

The crushing blow came a few minutes later and I did not even have to go ask her about the gift. She came to me. My mother had the card in her hand and she told me she did not want it. She said that I did not appreciate her and that she did not want that card from me as what was in the card was not true. Well, I knew that was not the case. I was the good child. I did every insane, crazy thing she commanded. I obeyed all the rules of the house that bordered on insanity. I had to. The consequences were swift and severe if I did not. There were many whipping extension cords around the house and she used them with frequency for any thing real or imagined. I could tell she was getting worked up so i did not say anything.

She then began on the flowers. She said she hated them and hated flowers and hated flowers that came from me. She said flowers reminder her of death and she did not want them. I did at that time speak up for the flowers defense. I told my mother that roses were flowers for love and caring, not death. Lillies and carnations were what were normally used at funerals. She did not care. My flowers remimder her of death and she hated them. I was totally spiritually and emotionally crushed. My roses were not wanted and she did not even bother to water them. I was afraid to water them or go near them for fear of what could happen. My hard earned money was gone. My beautiful roses died an early death with no one watering them. Soon they disappeared from the living room. I looked at those roses everyday they were there wanting to water them. To keep them alive for me. As they died, I died a little more inside.

Well, after that, for many years all my mother got on mothers day if anything at all, was a basic card. No sentiment, no elaborate cards, sometimes blank cards. Just the simple words-Happy Mother's Day with my name at the bottom. I was still following the rules. I got no more complaints-ever.

After I was able to leave home and leave the state for many years I did happen to visit one Mother's Day. I still had my simple card. My mother had gotten roses from my brother. She made the comment that he always sends her roses for Mother's Day since he left home. His, she apprenently did not throw away. I gave her my simple card and left.

~~~~~~

Happy Mother's Day

Summer Science Projects--Shadow Boxes

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Summer 1969

My mother was a school teacher for 35 years. When school was out her "teacher mode" did not fade to black. It continued on with my brother and I. We had to read 3 books a week for required reading. More if we had time. The mobile library came to our neighborhood each week so the books were endless. In addition to reading we had lots of educational games to play and we also had a large science lab complete with bunson burners, beakers and protective eye goggles. Let's not forget the recipe book of science experiments. While our friends were outside playing ALL day, we were outside PART of the day. The rest was spent inside "being educational."

One of the things my brother and I did was try to get ready for the upcoming year by making a few science projects in advance. My favorite thing to make was shadow boxes. Shoe boxes made the best shadow boxes. I would cover the inside with contruction paper to highlite whatever I was showcasing. The items to be shown off were glued to the bottom with elmer's glue and saran wrap was the cover. They always looked good when I got done.

I loved to showcase lichen and mushrooms. The would maintain their brillant colors all summer and always got me an "A!" I would glue a plush green layer of moss to the botton of the shoe box, glue in the mushrooms and lichen and soon I had a small fungus microcosm.

One other item that was a big hit in science was skeletons. What skeletons? Well let me tell you. My mother was a big pickle eater back when I was small. She would buy pickles by the big gallon jar. A few jars would wind up in the garage stacked for a rainy day when we might need a jar for something. One summer I notice a frog that had been run over by a car all except for one leg. It was black and flat everywhere else. The one leg that was not roadkill was covered with ants. I looked closer and it seemed to me the ants were eating that leg. Pieces of it were being carried off by a thin stream of ants that led off to the shoulder of the road.

I ran to get a pickle jar and a small shovel. I dug up the ant nest and put it in the pickle jar. I filled the jar about 1/2 full. A few itchy stings later, I had an ant farm. I let the ants sit for about a week and get adjusted to their new surroundings. My brother did the same thing. Then we each caught one frog and one lizard. Not in the same week of course. We would place the frog or lizard in the ant farm. It was survival of the fittest for that frog or lizard. Sounds a little cruel but we were kids and only in the 3rd grade. We were young scientists!

Well, in about an hour that frog or lizard was entirely covered in black ants and was no longer moving, jumping or hopping. There may be a blink or two of an eye but that was all. The jars would again be left to sit for a week. After a week or two we would have a perfectly whole frog or lizard skeleton. Depending on the placement we would be able to lift the skelton out whole. If not we would crack open the jar with a small mallet to get the sleleton out.

The skeleton would be gleaming white and picked clean to the bone. Next we would shellac the skeleton, let it dry and then mount it in the shadow box. The ants were returned to the yard. My brother and I only made one frog and lizard skeleton a piece, per summer. Once in the shadow boxes those skeletons waited until the perfect day to take to school for show and tell or a special science project.

The Prom

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

1978. Senior prom.

I had already been to a prom my freshman year and had gone to my prom my junior year and the prom of my boyfriend--also my junior year. I really was prommed out by the time senior year came around. I had not planned to go at all and had decided I was not going. I was not dating anyone at the time but that had nothing to do with my decision. Even if I was dating someone I was not going. Prom time came and lots of girls were all abuzz with plans and dates and who to ask and not who to ask.

One day one of the guys on the football team asked me to go to the senior prom with him. I immediately told him no as I had already decided I was not going. This guy was a guy who was not the most attractive. He was very large with rolls and rolls of fat everywhere. He was very obese. He had been that size all the 4 years of school. Even if I was going I surely would not go with him. He and I barely knew each other, did not travel in the same circles and did not really speak in all the 4 years. Well because he was on the football team he was considered a jock and was in with the jock crowd. Within 2 days of my "no" his friends began to pressure me to go with him. They told me things like this was the senior prom and I needed to go and the main thing I heard was that he had never been to any prom in the 4 years and he really wanted to go. And that he really wanted to go with me. I told all of them "NO". The pressure kept coming my way. The next thing I heard was I would have a good time, it would be a group setting, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Well after about 2 weeks of that I went back to him and told him that if he wanted to go I would go with him. I was going only as a favor to his friends as he had never been to any prom. Needless to say that date was doomed from the second he decided to ask me 2 weeks before I bowed to the pressure of his friends to go.

I wanted to wear a black dress with spaghetti straps, my mother wanted mint green with ruffles and lace. Who won? Not me. I was in an absolutely hideous mint green dress with ruffles and lace. I wanted my h air with loose flowing curls. What did my mother want? Lots of small curls and riglets all over and up. Who won? Not me. So there I was all dressed up in an outfit I hated. My hair was too curly and I felt like I looked horrible. I was not happy but what could I do? Mom had the money bags.

My date arrived and he had on a dark tux. I could not see the color until later at the restaurant. His tux was navy blue. Once we got to the restaurant, he said our clothes did not match. I felt very subconscious as all the dates did try to coordinate colors. I had even done that in past years with my past proms. Dinner was fine and we then arrived at the prom. We did dance a few times and we did have our pictures taken. He paid for dinner but we had agreed that we would split the cost of the pictures. I coughed up my 8 dollars for pictures.

The guys on the football team had rented a room or several rooms at the Best Western to have a party afterwards. A big group of us left to go to the hotel. I was not happy with that but I went with the group that I was with. There were 8 couples al together. I had a curfew of 12 midnight and we got to the hotel at about 10pm. We were not drinking any sort of alcohol. We had sodas and punch in the room. Soon I noticed that couples were disappearing..they had other rooms that were rented. I did not know about this. I began to get nervous as I was not going to be alone with my date in any sort of hotel room..no how no way! I was there just to do this guy a favor as he had never been to a prom. At about 11:15, 3 couples were left and I then said I needed to be home at midnight as I had a curfew. I of course had my emergency dime if I needed to call my father to get me.

He said we would go in a few minutes. Another couple left and then there were 2. I again mentioned that I needed to go home as I had a curfew. The last couple was about to leave and they were all going to other rooms. It was about 11:30pm. As they made a move to the door so did I. I went to the hall with my purse and told my date he needed to take me home immediately.

What the hell was he thinking????? I was not going to loose my virginity to him...a guy I was really repulsed by and had no interest in. And he was not going to loose his either. He actually then got mad. He said that he had rented that room for nothing and it had cost him money. I told him I knew nothing of renting these rooms in advance as to who and why they were rented. I thought the group had rented this 1 room to meet in after to be social. AND I needed to go home immediately and if he did not take me right now I would go to the lobby and call my father. He took me home and when I got the the driveway he did attempt to kiss me. I told him no..no kiss. I thanked him for dinner. He did not even walk me to the door. Just dropped me off and left. I never saw those prom pictures. I did ask him over and over for them as I had paid for 1/2 of them. He never did give me those pictures. Luckily I had taken my little kodak 110 camera with me and I did have some pictures of the night.

I never saw him again after we graduated until our 5 year high school reunion. We did not speak ...we never spoke in school. Just a hello. He was there at the reunion for 2 days of activities. Still huge and very obese. We had a picnic day at one of the local parks. The guys who were on the team and who were there were playing football...throwing it back and forth. I was sitting on the grass in a group of girls talking. We were not too very near where the guys were playing ball. We were off to the right of where they were. All of a sudden I was hit in the left shoulder blade with the football. I looked around and I did not know who threw it but I knew. Any normal man would have been saying how sorry they were and maybe say something like how rusty there arm has gotten since school. There was nothing like that so I knew my senior prom date had thrown the ball and most likely on purpose. One of the girls did yell that that was some bad throwing and it was throwing like that that caused us to loose the homecoming game in 1975. That was the end of that incident. Clearly he still had some resentment left.

We recently had our 25th year reunion. I did not make that one. I had made all of the others. I heard that my prom date did attend that one. He had never been to another since the 5 year. I heard that he is still very obese and is in very poor health, has had heart attacks and all sorts of health problems/surgeries due to his weight. He does not work consistently due to his health problems. No wife and no girlfriends in all these years either. Around this same time a cousin of mine was ill and I went to see him in the hospital. He was a year behind me in school.

He out of the blue brought up my prom date. I was very surprised. He told me that wanted to tell me something about him. He said that in school when I first told him no to the prom he became very upset then because I had told him that I was not going to attend the senior prom. My cousin was also on the football team. My date was so mad that he wanted to fight me. I was flabbergasted. I asked "fight me?" My cousin said yes..fight..because I did not want to go. My cousin said he had to jack him up and readjust his attitude for him in high school and told him that if anything happened to me something would be happening to him.

I always knew he had to have some sort of issue with all that weight. I am just so glad I had a guardian angel cousin looking out for me. That situation could have turned out much worse than it did. When you are young sometimes it is hard to resist peer pressure. Since that date I learned to always go with your instincts. If something seems wrong....something is wrong.

THE HATPIN

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Did date rape happen when I was in college? It may have, but the girls I hung around with never had a problem. We were always armed with our emergency dimes--the payphone cost a dime back in the late 70's and early 80's. In addition, one of the girls I met in college told my group of friends of another way to arm yourself when on a date. Her mother had always sent her out with the dime and a hatpin. A very long hat pin that she kept in her purse.

If any boy got out of line with her, out came her hatpin. She was not aiming for an arm or a leg either. She always aimed for things that could go "POP"! She never missed her mark either.