I Know Where I Was

 

...Sixty-nine years ago today. I was in the delivery room of a now non-existent hospital in a town to the north where they made a lot of gloves....being delivered. (It's not Di Giorno, it's Delivery). I guess it was hideously hot. Poor Mom.

Having heard the stories of that fateful event...first grandchild on BOTH sides of two large and vigorous families...(spoiled much?)...so many times, I feel almost as if I was there.

Oh, wait, I was. However, I don't remember a darned thing until a birthday party on Grandma Montgomery's side porch I think either one or two years later. Don't know how old I was for sure, but I do remember a large, brown, stuffed dog I loved on until he was so skinny in the middle that I could drag him around with one hand clutched on his center with his head and butt hanging down in true hangdog fashion. (Later followed by Fluffy, a blue stuffed dog donated by a beloved aunt, that I hauled around with me until I was in my twenties, and he was dingy grey rather than pale blue). And cake. I swear there was cake.

Anyhow, the story goes that my imminent arrival was celebrated the day before with much imbibing of locally grown, homemade, wine known as  ethnic slur-red. Guess I was late or something. Pretty punctual now as a rule, but hey.

My mother was not impressed and said she insisted, "That's not my baby!"

Squashed head and all plus kinda red and wrinkley and downright unruly. However, she eventually had to admit that there was a certain physical resemblance and was forced to claim me and take me home.

She told me often over the past year or so that I turned out to be a lot of fun. She was just a kid, not yet twenty when I was born, so I guess I was like a large, noisy baby doll. There was the tale of how much I liked baby food beets and ate WAY too much of them with predictable (and purple) results. That must have been a LOT of fun!

I was the smaller one in this pic, along with 
that favorite auntie. (Stolen shamelessly from FB)

And holding me up to the window to see outdoors. I already knew what I liked. 

First discernable speech-"Ffft Ffft" while pointing at a fly. Could not say milk to save my life even though I loved the stuff. It was "Nup" to me. Grandpa Lachmayer, who also taught me about raising currants and rhubarb, used to tease me at the Sunday dinner table...where, as the spoiled rotten oldest grandchild, I got to sit between him and grandma. He wouldn't give me any of the wonderful moo juice until I said it right. Think it may have warped me into becoming a dairy farmer in later years. Or maybe not.

Etc.

There have been a lot of birthdays since, perhaps the most memorable being when I was thirteen. The folks took me to the artist's town where the concert of the same name later made the place iconic and turned me loose. 

Woodstock, with all its book and art shops and galleries, plus searching the cemetery with Mom for genealogical material, was certainly fun and memorable. The frying onions at the Colony Arts Center, where the antique show where they had a booth was held, are another family staple story.

There were horses
Magnum, my first one, in the middle

 Mom baked me dozens of banana cakes with white frosting over the ensuing years. How she made a simple Betty Crocker recipe into something so tender and delicious is beyond me, but I loved them all....there was always cake...

And dogs
threecollie...after these guys

We probably won't do much this year. Not even cake. Stuff holds little interest for me any more. I have a lot of it, although I can surely remember not having it. Once during my poverty stricken younger years when we were living on home raised rabbits, Mom brought us a care package that contained bread and ketchup and such. Ketchup was an incredible luxury at that time. Good stuff.

Birds!

We birded a lot yesterday and the day before, pretty much using up all the ration of gas allotted for such activities, and then some really.

However, I am on the right side of the grass still, although I admit that it needs mowing pretty badly, there are grandbabies, although I don't imagine I will see any of them today...unless maybe by facetime...so all is good.

I can bird the yard and play in the garden and be grateful for all the amazing things that happened between that first dramatic birthday and today's much more low-key example.

Oh, and Happy Birthday, America. It's pretty cool to share a name day with something so great. 

Lots of cows.
Broadway, a great favorite