Author Archives: Mrs Marvel

Growing up OC – Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

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Christmas is definitely the time for memories!

Back in 1939, my Grammie Hennie was just a relatively new mom with three small kids. She went down to Montgomery Wards one day, and they were giving away copies of their new Christmas story, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Being who she was, she surely took a few copies, because our family motto of “if one is good, two is better” had to start somewhere. She might have read this new story to her own three kids.

Years later, she gave a copy of this story to my parents. Being fond of tradition, it became a ritual that every year my mom would read us the story of Rudolph before bed on Christmas Eve. I can not remember now if the hanging of stockings came before or after the reading. As the years wore on, the little book became more and more fragile. I can recall one year my sister carrying the book on a fancy pillow, partly in mock ceremony and partly in reverence, I’m sure.

My mother worked for a large company with numerous resources available to her, and she made a good quality photo copy of the book. Granted, it was black & white. Color copies were not around until 1990. We were each given a photo copy to color and I remember it being tedious work, because of course, I was a perfectionist and I wanted it to look as close to the original as possible.

Now the book has found its way to my home, and though I won’t be using the original, I plan to read the real story of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer to Melody on Christmas Eve. I made high quality scans of the book, and I will have to put it away in archival quality storage. The old paper is terribly yellowed, brown in some respects, and the pictures of facing pages have created ghost-images of themselves on their opposite page from the high acid in the inks used way back when.

Since it will be a long time before this book finds a new family home, I took the liberty of sending a copy on to the Hall family, our closest friends. Burke and Cassidy are just the right age to begin enjoying the story of Rudolph, and I hope they find a tradition in there for their family too.

Happy 70th birthday, Rudolph. You are still bringing Christmas joy to every girl and boy!

Growing up OC – Finding the perfect tree

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Jenny’s blog Gray Hairs and Teddy Bears got me thinking about Christmas trees. Jenny has a “live” tree that is already drooping and dropping needles. One of her readers pointed out that it was probably cut back in October, stored in a refrigerated truck, then put out for sale in late November. It doesn’t take a botanist to figure out what is causing her tree to wilt so quickly.

For the past three years, we have had a fake tree. I really dislike fake trees. They just look……fake. Even the high quality ones look like oversized pipe cleaners sticking out of a central pole. I resisted as long as possible, but what did it for me was the idea of being 7 1/2 months pregnant, on all fours trying to water the Christmas tree, with the dog poking his nose where it doesn’t belong. I bought a fake one at Lowe’s. Pre-lit.

As soon as is humanly possible for me, I’m going to start getting real trees again, and hopefully by that time, Orange Countians will still be able to find live trees to cut. Because, you see, the best kind of live tree is one that is fresh cut. Going to pick out the Christmas tree was a family activity on the day after Thanksgiving. That’s the first day you could go reserve them and get a good one.

We would trek out in the Ford de jour to a local place, under the high wires most likely, pull into the mud and gravel parking lot, then walk out into the stands of trees. Close to the parking lot there always seemed to be a forest in miniature with pine saplings no more than two feet high just dreaming of their future in someone’s living room. We liked Monterrey Pines. Their long needles are soft and lush and fairly easy to hang ornaments on, they are hardy and homey.

The chill of the air, the smell of the pine needles and sap, the squish of mud beneath our tennies…these are all great memories to me. It seemed we would spend a long time finding a tree that didn’t lean too much to one side or the other, didn’t have a hole in one side, or didn’t lack the lovely a-line shape of the perfect Christmas tree. We’d circle two or three, my mom viewing all angles. Our living room set up demanded that the tree be attractive from all sides; we couldn’t just stick the hole in a corner. Finally we’d settle on one, tear the ticket and go pay for it. It was ours!

Two weeks before Christmas, we went back and had our tree cut, and that is a great bunch of smells too. There’s the pine sap, sawdust, gas from the chain saw, and the sweat of the young bucks working there. My parents liked the tree flocked, I suppose as a tribute to their Eastern US upbringings. It took me a long time to connect that the flocking was supposed to simulate snow. I didn’t care for the flocking much because it was sticky, smelled weird and I thought it didn’t look natural. Most tree farms would flock the tree for us, and the back of the Ford de jour would be lined with an old sheet to keep the flocking from sticking. Some years my dad flocked the tree himself. That might have been the years we grew our own trees.

Dad ran wires from the tree trunk to the bannister to keep the tree from tipping over, and we draped the tree stand with foil then a white sheet. Once it was set up, it was time to get into the crawl space and pull back the dusty plastic sheets that covered luggage and the boxes of Christmas decorations. The boxes were what you’d expect – old shipping boxes, May Co. or Broadway boxes – with all our precious decorations stored within for 11 months of the year. I can still remember the dusty plastic smell and my poor sister sneezing from it. My sister and I, along with my mother would carry them down to the living room and set them out for excavation. Dad would put on the lights (old school ones with the star reflectors) and Mom would put on the three long strands of glass bead garland (red, white and blue). Then my sister and I would reverently decorate the tree.

Once the family project was finished, we knew we had the perfect tree.

Growing Up OC – bottles for ice cream

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For about a minute of my life, in the 5th grade, my best gal pal was named Patrice. I don’t recall now what her last name was. She wanted to be called ‘Trice, but her mom always called her by her full name. She was a girl raised by parents who were older, and I realize now they were probably alcoholics and they were certainly heavy smokers. But for me, Patrice was fun. We were both awkward socially and so, we bonded on that point. She had a cute fluffy little white dog that might have been a poodle or a cockapoo. I used to walk or ride my skate board to her house, which was a little over a mile from mine. She must have been smart because I think she was in the advanced class with me. I didn’t have many other close friends at that school, so I can’t think of any other way I could have met her.

Being smart did not preclude a questionable childhood surrounded by weird friends of her parents and did not necessarily include a financially stable life. Patrice lived in an unincorporated part of Santa Ana, just behind a fronting of little houses built in the 40s or 50s. Back there, they could still have horses though, and it was like stepping into a rural retreat once you rounded the corner to her street. It’s hard to imagine today there being stables in the middle of a Santa Ana neighborhood, even lots with a house and a stable, with actual horses and chickens, but it’s true. It was a quiet, dark and shady place with large trees, that smelled like soil and horses, manure and car oil. There’s a garish church that was built where a little home with a white board fence once had been. It had acted as a sort of gateway or mile marker into that forgotten little corner of town. The church is hideous, in my opinion, but the little home was a ramshackle abandoned wreck by the time it was torn down, so it’s likely the better of the two abodes.

To help out the family, Patrice wandered around town collecting bottles. Eventually they turned them in at the liquor store for cash, or maybe liquor. I don’t know. Looking back I don’t know really what drew me to her. I found a picture of her recently and it reminded me she was boy crazy and wanted to grow up fast and get out of her house. She was the type of girl I’m sure my parents dreaded I would turn into.

One thing she did teach me about during our brief friendship was that bottles were worth money – maybe it was 5 cents per bottle. I had never even considered this type of a transaction before knowing this girl. Some hot days, if we didn’t have much to do, and Patrice had already collected “enough” bottles for her family, we would go scrounge bottles until we came up with enough for two cones of ice cream from Thrifty Drug Store over on Harbor Blvd. It was near the Zody’s – a store I never went in for some reason. Anyway, to this day, I can remember collecting those bottles…the smell of the warm day on a part of town that was not shiney and clean, the sun on my neck, the weight of the bag with the bottles in it, and the stink of the icky guy at the liquor store who changed them out for us…but even more, the taste of that mint chip ice cream. Sigh…… Pure heaven!

I’m a slow parent

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We’ve all seen them – the parents who oversee every aspect of every activity or milestone their children make. They are referred to as “helicopter parents.” I knew one a while back. Her son was 12 and she was unable to let him stay home sick from school by himself. She screamed at his soccer coach and teachers because she felt they were treating him differently by requiring him to do the minimum amount of work. Huh?

I’ve often wondered how to draw a balance between the now-idyllic childhood I had Growing Up OC and the over-scheduled, over-homeworked, over-supervised childhood I see my peers’ children experiencing.

We walked to school, often crossing major streets.

We waited at the bus stop alone until our friends showed up.

We drank unfiltered water from the hose and played in the dirt.

We sold Girl Scout cookies door to door.

We rode our bikes over to our friends houses, after school, and came home when it got dark.

We didn’t play organized sports from age 4.

We didn’t have homework in kindergarten. We didn’t even have homework until the 5th grade!

We walked or rode our bike to doctors appointments, the mall, and Mile Square Park.

ALL WITHOUT CELL PHONES.

Certainly, times are different, and I am sensitive to the changes wrought by a more cynical society with greater access to news media. There are more challenges that involve technology and there are more gangs in high schools. I never worried about getting hurt at school. Ever. A gang fight would have been between the surfers and the Mexicans and they would punch each other until the principal showed up. I wonder sometimes if child abductions were just as common back in the day, but we just didn’t hear about them. Yes, it’s scary out there these days.

But – and it’s a big but – I want Melody to enjoy her childhood. I don’t want her to feel like she has to play soccer, baseball, basketball, or any sport if she doesn’t want to. If she does want to, I want her to enjoy it without the pressures of having to win. I want her to feel the freedom to make some decisions based on good judgement – like visiting a friend after school – and understanding the consequence of not getting her homework done.

There’s a great article about parenting on Time.com, and that’s what got me thinking about this. The new “backlash” against helicopter parenting is called “slow parenting” and in true American form, you can take a class on how to be a slow parent. Read the article and then consider the irony in that. Anyway, slow parenting advocates allowing your kids to make mistakes in order to learn from them, letting them get stuck so they independently figure out their resources to get out of the bind. That sort of thing. You know, kind of like how my parents raised me.

I think I am a slow parent. I think that’s okay.

Our Deepest Thanks

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Today is Veteran’s Day. Days like today mean more than light traffic on the freeway, no school, mail or banking, although it seems some people only look at it that way. This is a tradition that started with a great relief that the War to End All Wars was over. That is certainly reason to celebrate! You might have heard of Armistice Day, or maybe not. Let’s learn a little bit about this holiday that we don’t really celebrate any more.

World War 1 was raging in Europe since 1914 and America had become involved in April 1917. At the time it was referred to as The Great War, and really, it was a great and terrible war with battle tactics that shock our senses still today. Trench warfare was bloody and almost certainly fatal to participants. Initially, America had adopted a policy of neutrality, both militarily and in terms of ongoing trade and finance. The President at the time, Woodrow Wilson, was seen as a peacemaker who sought treaties and peaceful resolution to the war on several occasions. Up until Germany declared unrestricted submarine warfare in January 1917, he was seen to have given every effort to keep America safe while helping to broker peace in Europe. Within the first three months of 1917, seven American merchant ships had been sunk and Germany was caught trying to incite Mexico to join with them against America. Wilson and Congress had had enough, and in April 1917 war was declared.

In just over one year, the United States sent almost five million men to war in Europe. Of those, we lost 116,516 and over 200,000 were wounded but not mortally. When you factor in all military and civilian casualties during the course of the war there were 16 million deaths and 21 million injured. Just to put that into perspective, the total number of dead is equal to twice the modern population of New York City.

America’s entry into World War 1 is often seen as the catalyst to bringing the war to an end. The Allies and the Germans were tired. They had been fighting since 1914. Germany was fighting on multiple fronts and the surge of fresh troops from America overwhelmed them. In 1918, an Armistice was announced to take place at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month – November 11 at 11 a.m.

Soldiers of the 353rd Infantry near a church at Stenay, Meuse in France, wait for the end of hostilities. This photo was taken at 10:58 a.m., on November 11, 1918, two minutes before the armistice ending World War I went into effect – image from the US Department of Veterans Affairs

The Treaty of Versailles was signed in June 1918, bringing the Great War to an end.

In 1919 the first Armistice Day was proclaimed by Woodrow Wilson, and he stated “To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations.” The day was intended to be a reflection on all that had been lost to restore peace in the world. Through the 1920s, these celebrations were carried out with great success and included the dedication of a Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetary on November 11, 1921. By the end of the decade, Armistice Day had been proclaimed a state holiday in most states and was Federally recognized. By 1938, it was established as a holiday for Federal employees, and most states followed suit.

By 1954, the number of veterans in America had swelled to the hundreds of thousands due to World War II and the Korean War, and President Eisenhower passed legislation changing Armistice Day to Veteran’s Day so as to include all veterans of all wars.

There has been a little fiddling with the date of observance over the years, but tradition kept bringing it back to November 11th, regardless of what day of the week it fell.

The holiday is meant to be a time to recognize our great heros at home and work toward peace abroad. So, today, if you can find it in your heart, please thank a veteran for all they have done for our great country and the preservation of peace in the world.

Sources: US Department of Veterans Affairs, The History of Veteran’s Day

What IS in a name?

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When we were deciding names for our daughter, we agonized over the decision. We wanted to be sure to select a name that would be distinctive and cute, traditional but a little bit different. Something that would coordinate with our last name nicely and not spell a bad word in its initials. Since we named her Melody, two more friends have named their daughters Melody. Choosing a child’s name is really a difficult decision for some parents. It can have repercussions through grade school if it’s weird or unusual – I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been called Aunt Martha by my peers! – and really, I don’t get the strange spellings we are seeing these days. I joked with Tara that we could spell my daughter’s name Melo’Dee. It was a joke though, don’t worry!

The middle name for some people is just as important. We settled on Rae, simply because we wanted to honor her grandfather Ray who will never have the joy of knowing her. Other old family names have been used in my family. John’s family seems to go with names new to the family. My friend really wanted to name her son Joaquin but her husband objected so that fell to the middle name.

Coordinating the first and middle names is difficult enough, but you have to look at how it all goes with the last name. You don’t want to wind up with a funny word spelled out in initials! One of the names we considered was Emilie (an old family name) and the middle name Grace, but John pointed out her initials would be EGG. Off went those names to the recycle bin. Rosemary Angela Gibbons? Nope! Henrietta Alice Gibbons? Uh, no. Francis Andrea Gibbons? Never! You get the picture.

Today I read an article expressing outrage – outrage I say! – that women change their last name upon marriage. Wait, back up a second…what? The author was seriously irritated that women give up their identity when they change their names after marriage. I really need to think about this, because personally I never thought of my last name as my identity, or even that changing it would change me. I always figured that when I got married, the act of combining my life with another person would be the big change. My name change is my badge of pride in being the wife of who I am married to! Our daughter shares our name too, and we are a family identified on paper by that name.

But again, that doesn’t make us who we are, does it? It’s not like we are the bin Laden family – that poor family is forever linked to Enemy #1, just like the Hitlers were. As a mere peon, doesn’t what I do in my life shape who I am rather than a name?

The article mentioned things like “would you want to listen to songs by Barbara Brolin? (Barbara Streisand)” Well, personally no, because I don’t care for her, but aside from that, I think this is a poor example. A person with an established media name becomes that commodity. If Barbara Streisand had really become famous as Barbara Apple Pie, we’d find that the norm and Barbara Streisand the tongue twister. It’s rare for a celebrity to change their name after marriage because it’s their trademark – and many times it isn’t their “real” name anyway, lending creedence to the trademark concept in the first place. Who wants to buy records by John Deutchendorf? Well, no one, but they sure lined up to buy them from John Denver, and I’m pretty sure the masses were not really interested in going to see Stanley Eisen front a band, but the minute he walks out on stage with a big black star painted over one eye, everyone knows Paul Stanley of KISS.

So, who we are…is it defined by our names? Or by how we live our lives? Or by the lessons we learn and teach?

If you ask me, I don’t think changing my name caused me to give up my identity. My name doesn’t make me, the same as my career or my choice of home town do not make me.

I make me who I am.

BlogCrush Meets the Matador

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Cantina, that is…

A while back I became involved in yet another new activity that, for me, has the potential of opening some doors of opportunity. My pal Suzanne Broughton invited me to join BlogCrush – could we call it a support group for bloggers? – which has monthly get togethers and helps us Orange County bloggers network, make friends, grow businesses, and have a lot of fun.

Last night, the BlogCrush descended on the Matador Cantina in downtown Fullerton, thanks to Suzanne and Marcy Massura, who organized the event. I went, I tasted the fabulous queso fundido, I collected business cards of new acquaintences, I had a great time! As a special bonus, Melody and Dad had a great time at home, too.

In addition to seeing some previous acquaintences – Suzanne, Marcy, Kirsten Wright, and Roxanne Hack – it was great to meet Lamia of Lamia, Priscilla of Top Mom Blog, Lisa of Life Illustrated, Michele of Play Parks Central, Kara Noel of Eli’s Lids, Laura of If Not Now, When, and Dawn of Spontaneous Clapping!

The cantina also offered us a sampling of their appetizers, we met the owners of the restaurant and also the head chef, David, and some enjoyed the specialty drinks – mango martini and jalapeno martini. I enjoyed the company of other bloggers and seeing the nail-biter ending of the Angel game with fellow fan Roxanne. I recommend the queso fundido, it’s unbelievable! I’d like a bowl and a spoon, please.

The Matador Cantina is in downtown Fullerton in a renovated building packed with charm and atmosphere. They offer Saturday brunch as well as Sunday brunch, and I expect I’ll be taking friends and family back for more. Hope you will too!

I’m so proud of my team!

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By the time the last person had signed up on Team Melody Makers Bakers, we had 32 people on the site and several off site who were working their ovens to the bone turning out all kinds of delicious sounding goodies for our deserving soldier, Heath K. As you may know, shortly after we had ‘adopted’ Heath as our soldier, his convoy in Afghanistan was attacked and he was seriously wounded. Heath survived but lost his right leg above the knee and suffered 2nd and 3rd degree burns on his hands and arms. He was rushed to Germany to undergo emergency surgery, then transferred to Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas. Through this all, we were all committed to helping him along the way to recovery.

When I first posted about hosting a team, I figured I might get 10 or 12 people to sign up and call that a huge success. You can imagine how proud I am to have hosted this group. I don’t know if there has been a soldier sponsored by Baking Gals yet who was wounded during the sponsorship period. Let me tell you, I felt like Heath was a long lost family member and his dad Tim was, too. I wanted to take care of these fine men. Well as I have been getting in the shipment reports I must admit that my team members really surpassed every expectation I had and then some!! Tim tells me that they have been receiving the packages and appreciate every one of them. They would have taken pictures but the hospital would not allow it. Their gratitude is what powers us, because this young man deserves it all and more!

Here’s just a quick summary and a few photos of what has been sent. UPDATE: WordPress stripped the photos from this very old post. Please support our team members by visiting their sites and commenting, too.

Kathi D of I Think We’re All Bozos on This Bus ** made shortbread cookies. I looooove shortbread cookies, and her kitchen is really neato looking. Kathi said that when she was young her brother joined the Marines and she used to send him home made cookies, and she really enjoyed doing it 50-some years later. Thank you Kathi!

My friend Stacey made chocolate chip banana walnut bread. That sounds delicious and sinful and oh so good!

Peggy F sent cracker toffee, pillowcases, a gratitude rock, and jelly bellys, as well as a little bit about Fairfield where she lives and a picture of her family. It’s always nice to see who has been keeping you in their thoughts!

Elise at The Cupcake Activist sent pumpkin cupcakes…yummmmmm. She put them into little mason jars to keep them safe during shipping. Elise that is very clever and I hope it didn’t weigh too much!

The awesome Kim Onstott of Your Place Gourmet, who gave us Heath’s name to begin with, sent chewy chocolate cookies with white chocolate chips; big peanut butter cookies; oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (my favorite!!), plus magazines, action flick DVDs and a music CD/DVD set. Kim and Heath’s dad Tim know each other and this must have really hit close to home for her, too. Thanks for nominating Heath, Kim!

Carrie B sent what she called The Brown’s Fall Favorites, as it contained all of her fall favorite goodies: pumpkin bread, candy corn and Halloween M&Ms, plus a little bit about Oklahoma where she lives and a Bible, which I know Heath and his family will use.

Candi H in Illinois sent sugar cookies with Halloween sprinkles and brownie mini’s with mini Reeses pieces, plus a note from her and one from her two-year-old daughter. Candi’s daughter also wanted to include a popsicle and was disappointed when her Mommy wouldn’t let her. It’s so great that you are including your daughter in this Candi, as baking and sharing our love is something we need to learn at our mother’s knee.

Gramma A sent some of my favorites too: two small loaves of lemon bread with pecans, peanut butter cookies and snickerdoodles. It was 6 1/2 pounds of yummy goodness!

Michele sent a batch of Halloween cut outs and says she is so glad to hear that Heath is getting so much love from around the country!

Suzanne B at Alive In Wonderland **  says that baking isn’t her strong point but she enjoyed the project and I know she did it with her kids, which is all the more special. Suzanne’s husband is also a veteran and he sent a note in the box for Heath as well. There is nothing like the words of camaraderie that pass between one veteran and another. Thank you!

Julie C sent six dozen cookies, including peanut butter and I think I see some cranberry white chocolate chip in there!  The pictures speak for themselves :::mouth watering:::

Debbie Z is one of those who really blew me away with her thoughtful gift. Not only did she send monster cookies, puzzle books and a deck of playing cards, she made this wheelchair sized lap quilt for Heath to use during his recovery. It is gorgeous and so special. Debbie, you are wonderful!

Carrie at This Mama Makes Stuff ** could not resist making Heath bar cookies and her daughters helped her out. The girls also wrote letters and drawings, and pray for “the soldier with the hurt leg” at night. Carrie, I cannot say thank you enough for your efforts and again, for teaching your little ones these special skills!

Laurie G sent corn muffins and oatmeal scotchie cookies. I sure hope we will be getting the recipe for those!

Tina S sent out oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, Halloween sugar cookies and corn muffins, plus the “dentist special” of gum, sunflower seeds, tootsie roll pops, trail mix and granola bars.

Stacey J sent another bunch that I hope we will get recipes for! Butterscotch pumpkin cookies, chocolate pumpkin cookies and cinnamon and chocolate chip cookies. They all sound insanely good!

I just got word from Dawn R that after 5″ of snow in North Dakota her package went out with 4 dozen sugar cookies, gum, almonds, peppermint lifesavers, Werthers candies and an Uno card game. She also included notes and cards of thanks and encouragement.

Jennifer R powered through family illness to bring together pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, some pictures of her family and notes of encouragement. Thanks for hanging in there Jennifer and so glad you are feeling better!

Auntie Kat was also under the weather but wanted to send a care package, so she decided to give Heath a break on the calories and sent out snacks, a knit cap she had made, writing paper and envelopes plus stamps, and a few other odds and ends. She also included notes of encouragement from herself and some of her friends.

As for myself, I sent cheese crackers and sugar cookies with mini peanut butter cups in them. My friend Laurie contributed a massive box of Mentos and individual packets of trail mix, and I also put in Altoids, chocolate candies, and chocolate covered mints from Trader Joe’s, plus a few pictures from the Marching Thru History event, just because they were fun. Wouldn’t you know I didn’t actually take pictures of my own goodies!?

THERE ARE MORE PICTURES IN THE GALLERY. PLEASE TAKE A LOOK AT ALL THE WONDERFUL BAKED GOODS!

For those who haven’t participated in a project like this in the past, it really is fulfilling and I encourage you to try it. Round 14 is getting ready to launch and I hope I’ll see some of you around on other teams. I don’t think I’ll host a team in Round 14, maybe Round 15. It’s a lot of work! I’m very happy I did it and proud of our fantastic results! Heath’s dad let me know that the boxes have been arriving safely – I was a little worried about the receiving department at the hospital – and that Heath is doing a little better every day.

** These are all sites I read with some regularity. Like, every day. In case you wanted to know what I do with my time.

A truly wonderful moment

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This past Saturday found us at Calico Ghost Town for the 47th Annual Calico Days event. Kathy, Melody and I went to the Lane House & Museum and displayed family heirlooms – a 100+ year old infant gown worn my my Grandpa George in 1892, a tiny silk coat made for my father in 1932, and a tatted lace collar made by our Great Grand Uncle John Hart. Don’t worry, these items are all safely inside display cases! Kathy and I took turns with Melody, taking her through the town off to do really fun things like ride an historic stagecoach, ride the Calico train, play in a hay bale, share an ice cream and play with the hobby horse she got at the Mercantile. With that, she galloped around shouting “yee haw, ride ’em cowboy!” Folks thought it was hilarious. She is definitely not inhibited!

Every year at Calico Days there is a parade featuring all sorts of characters, drill teams, the stagecoach, mule teams, the like. Well, this year the parade was started by a corps of United States Veterans from the Veterans Home in Barstow. All these fellows were in motorized wheel chairs so they could make the long trek up hill and then back down! I had a perfect spot for watching the parade, right up at the front and by a lamp post that is somewhat out into the street. Another woman was there taking pictures like me. As those veterans came up to us, she said “I feel like someone should be singing.” 

Completely spontaneously, she and I both started singing God Bless America. Our voices were paired perfectly, we both were unafraid, our song carried over all the sounds of the crowd. A hush fell as those brave heros approached us, and the song ended right as the last of their group passed us. 

I am not the type to perform in front of a crowd, but the looks in their eyes as we serenaded them was truly a wonderful moment that I will cherish forever!

Marching Thru History Exposition Was Awesome!

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This past weekend we went out to the Marching Thru History Exposition in Chino. What a great event! Military and historical groups from ancient times until recent history were represented by fantastic camps, amazing clothing, pageantry, pomp and circumstance, and weapons displays. We saw Roman Legions, a real-live knight in shining armor, Celts, German Landsknechts, English Civil War archers, American Revolution – both sides, War of 1812, Spanish-American War, American Civil War, Great War aka WW1, both Germans and Americans, New Zealanders, British India troops, World War 2 American GIs and military hospitals, Japanese WW2 officers, Philippine troops, Korean War and Vietnam War camps and soldiers. There were also numerous American Vets who were honored throughout the weekend.

We were camped in the American Frontier town and it was great to see familiar faces – Widow Peters, the Coffeys, the Deedees – as well as make new friends with the Mule Skinners, Seventh Calvary, and the Wayward Sisters. Lisa Taylor, the organizer for our area, did a great job at making everyone feel welcome and important. It was a lot more busy for us because traffic flow was more pronounced than at past events. We spent the days piecing a quilt, tatting, and knitting, and on Sunday hosted a tea party with the Captain and Sergeant of the Seventh Calvary. Now, that was an experience!

If you missed it this time, you can see it again on the weekend after Independence Day next year at Old Fort MacArthur Days. The picture above is of Mrs Bronner of the War Horse & Militaria Heritage Foundation. Click her picture to see more pictures from Marching Through History.

Next weekend we will be visiting Calico on Saturday for Calico Days! Check our the commercial here, you can see each of us for a split second if you don’t blink!