Monday, April 20, 2015

When We Were Your Age, Madison...We Went To Prom!

When We Were Your Age, Madison! 
George and Shirley...Junior Prom April 21, 1972
"A Time For Us"
Here we are...your grandparents...when we were juniors at American Fork High School.  This was only our second date.  I don't know how we ended up together...he was the most annoying boy in my English class.  One day at school I was in a really, really bad mood.  My so-called boyfriend in Spanish Fork had just broken up with me...said his wrestling coach told him to.  Lame!  In Mrs. Gordon's class, George kept doing little things to get my attention and I kept ignoring him.  Finally he reached over and yanked down one of my knee socks.  Without thinking I punched him in the face!  Mrs. Gordon calmly separated us and told us to behave...she was such a nice lady.

The next day...Saturday...I was walking down Main Street to the library, when I saw him coming out of the boot repair shop.  He was getting his clunky boots repaired.  I felt prompted to go over to him and apologize for popping him one in class.  He was pretty cool about it and we stood there talking for awhile.  I found myself enjoying his company!  He asked if I would like to go for a ride in the old Plymouth he shared with his brother, Daryle.  We drove from one side of the valley to the other...Pleasant Grove to Cedar Fort.  I hardly noticed the drive, we were talking a mile a minute.  

Back in school, George was his usual obnoxious self.  Why do boys do that...act like they don't care?  He asked me, "Do you want to see the Godfather movie?"  I said I did.  "Then you better find someone to take you, then," he smirked.  I almost punched him again!  But he did take me to see that movie...we took our own popcorn and pretended to be BYU students so we could get into an R-rated movie.  Not the most wholesome of first dates...right?  I hated the movie, but I was starting to like George.  When he asked me to Prom...I said yes!

Madison and Date...2015 Sweetheart Dance 

About Madison
Madison is the oldest of my 8 granddaughters.  She is a junior at Skyline High School in Idaho Falls and is a photographer on the yearbook staff.  It seems like only yesterday that she was my first grandchild.  I can hardly believe how fast the years have passed by.  Madison is beautiful and quirky...and I can't wait to see what she does with her life.  Now she is enoying her high school years and going to dances.  I thought it would be fun to tell her and my other granddaughters what dances were like when George and I were in high  school. 

Treasures From the Cedar Chest

My corsage from Prom 1973.
I hardly ever look in the bottom drawer of my cedar's in Sascha's room.  My parents bought the chest for me for graduation.  It was the custom in those days for a young lady to use the chest to store keepsakes and items collected for her wedding "Trousseau."  I keep my wedding dress in there, protected from dust and insects by the cedar lining.  It's quite large...I wanted it to look like a stereo cabinet, so I could have a nice piece of furniture for my future living room.

My bedroom showing the cedar chest.
Dance photo from Military Ball at BYU dates this to 1975.

Recently I looked in the bottom drawer of the cedar chest and found a florist box containing a corsage, our dance pictures and three dance programs.  The corsage was made of dried flowers...George's idea.  He thought it would last for years and be something to remember him by.  Ever practical, he insisted that our wedding bouquets also be dried flowers.  He has always had a cheap economical heart. 

Dance programs from Junior Prom, Pep Club Formal, and Senior Hop.
All are from my senior year. 

At some point during our senior year, along with our friends from Drama Club, we decided to rebel against some of the dance customs.  Prom in the 70's wasn't the all-day affair filled with games, activities and formal dinners hosted by someone's parents.  There were no contests to see who could issue the most creative invitation...Pinterest hadn't been invented yet. 

For the Senior Hop we decided not to buy new dresses or rent tuxes.  Flowers and boutonnieres would be simple.  We found out that it was just as much fun and not nearly as expensive.  I couldn't afford the Gunne Sax dresses that were popular, so I made my own.  When we followed the rebel plan for some of the other dances, I wore a couple of dresses more than once. And George wore that same blue polyester suit and tie I helped him pick out.   Polyester...what was the fashion world thinking?

Senior Hop November 17, 1972

Senior Hop was the dance where we first "rebelled." I wore my dress from the first Junior Prom.  It was a lot less stressful not having to go to a salon to put my hair up and, because George didn't rent a tux, we could actually afford to go out to a nice restaurant with our friends.

Pep Club Formal December 2, 1972
"One Love"

We took a break from the "rebellion" for Pep Club Formal.  I was on the committee and had painted a mural for the entrance.  Everything had to be just right.  I made a new dress and did my own hair.  George wore a tux for the last time until our wedding.  To be fair, he looked very handsome in his ROTC uniform at the Military Ball during our college years.

Pep Club Formal Committee...I'm the second one on the back row. 

Junior Prom April 20, 1973
"Pieces of April"

Finally, back to where it all started...Prom.  For Christmas I had made George a bank that looked just like a giant Tootsie Roll...and filled it full of miniature Tootsie Rolls.  He promised that we could go to Prom in April if we could save enough money for the dance, dinner and pictures.  It was fun to count our change every few weeks to see how much we had.  I didn't contribute too much...I hardly ever had spending money left over from my allowance.  But we managed to have enough by the time April rolled around. This is just another example of George's frugal economically wise ways...he was always the man with the "five year plan!"

Mural for 1972 Junior Prom.
I painted the rocks on the rock wall...such talent!

The theme for our 1972 Junior Prom was "A Time For Us," the love theme from the 1968 movie "Romeo and Juliet."  That movie was a big deal for us...the most romantic movie of our teenage years.  The movie's star, Olivia Hussey, influenced even the style of many of our Prom dresses...long-sleeved and high-waisted.  Dresses were much more modest then.  We would have been scandalized if someone showed up in a dress with spaghetti straps!  It was rumored that some girl had...but I didn't see her.

Seventeen from May of 1973...Prom Issue
Are high school girls still inspired by this magazine?

That was us, Madison, back in the days of the cavemen...actually we were the American Fork Cavemen!  Times, customs and fashions may have changed, but more than forty years later I would still go to Prom with George, my high school sweetheart!  Maybe we can be chaperones at your Prom!

Grandma Shirley

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Route 66 State of Mind...Williams Arizona!

My Route 66 Weekend...
Things go better with Coke!
We've traveled quite a bit the last two months on our endless exploration of the Desert Southwest.  Before I get into my latest Vintage Vacation post, I want to show you what awaited me upon my return.  Couldn't you just die!  It will be the highlight of my covered deck.  A few months ago,  I showed my DIL Lori a picture on Pinterest of a dresser that was repurposed into a faux Coke machine.  I've wanted the "Real Thing" for many years, but they are increasingly outrageously priced.  "I can make this," she told me...and she did!  She is so unbelievably talented...and she is so nice to me.  I don't deserve her.  This was the best ending to my Route 66 Weekend. 
Left side with bottle opener!
The right Lori's stenciling!
Thank you so much, Lori, for making my Coke Machine dream come true!
Vintage Vacations...Route 66 
Williams, Arizona!
Williams...Gateway to the Grand Canyon.
We travel to the Grand Canyon at least once a year, but we never turned right and ventured into the town of Williams.  It was such a cute little vintage town...reminded me of Radiator Springs, "Gateway to Ornament Valley."  The two main streets were one-way only.  There was a wonderful train station where you can book a ride to the Grand Canyon.  I hope to try it one day!

Another tourist town bypassed by the freeway...but it's worth the detour!
I loved seeing the US 66 signs everywhere.

Fun signs, curio shops and the King!
I couldn't wait to find Cruiser's diner-themed bar & grill.
My pal, Tammy blogged about this here Tammy's in Love when she visited the Grand Canyon a couple of years ago.
Cruiser's Community Bulletin Board...
Another view of patio dining area.

Cool, cool Chevy coming through the wall.
Wished the food was as great as the d├ęcor.
The bathroom stalls were made out of truck tail gates...yikes!
Some of the ladies didn't like the curtains that acted as doors on the stalls.
I hope you enjoyed this little detour off I-40 onto Route 66.
The Mother Road also ran through historic downtown Flagstaff...but that's another post!



Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Easter Swap Eggs-citement!

 Viv's Easter Basket Swap!
Beautiful Chicks!
Easter is such a lovely time for crafting.  The images are so sweet and filled with meaning...many are symbolic of Christ and the Resurrection.  Colors are those in our memories.  We have had a very early spring in Utah.  Trees are leafing and seems more like the end of April rather than the last day of March. 
I had the pleasure to participate in an Easter swap hosted by Vivian of Viv's Whimsy.  I am so happy that she takes the time to organize holiday swaps...I would be so nervous to even try to do such a thing.  I hope she knows how much she is adored by her followers.  The theme of this swap was simple...a small Easter basket filled with treats and trinkets.  My swap partner was Debbie of My Vintage Daydreams.  I have been lucky to have been paired with new partners for my last few swaps.  It's lovely to get acquainted with new friends from around the country.

 Debbie's Basket...
Easter Basket...Full to Overflowing!
Darling letters spelling out my name.

Treasures packed inside.

Little miss reminds me of my childhood.
Vintage planter filled with fun trinkets.

A gentle reminder of the meaning of Easter.
My Basket...
Easter Basket made from a berry basket.
Little box holds chocolate eggs.

Simple Easter Garland...sweet graphics and rick-rack.
Just a few of the things I sent.
Random Stuff...
Thumper as Easter Bunny.
I had planned to do a whole theme with Bambi and I did with Snow White.
But I got derailed by a very busy year for sure!
Disney Thumper Easter Wreath.
I've had this for years.

Vintage Bunny Doll I found on Ebay.
Thanks again to Viv and Debbie for a wonderful Easter Swap experience!
May you all have a very blessed Easter.

Here are the graphics I used in my simple garland...enjoy!


Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Have You Seen This Child?...Adventures of Gregory!

Adventures of Gregory
Have you seen this child?

Gregory Emerson Hatfield...March 18, 1988
I am going to break with tradition for a bit on this, the last of my children's birthday posts. Instead of writing about Greg's birth, I want to share a little bit of his baby and toddlerhood. My memories of Gregory Emerson Hatfield's first two years are extremely vivid...and there is a good reason.  My cute final child was quite the handful...a little Houdini who could defeat any lock or attempt to keep him contained safely at home.  Some years back I wrote an essay about Greg's adventures.  I am a bit nervous about sharing this his mother, I do not come across well.  In today's environment I would be considered a neglectful parent...subject to Facebook shaming.  I am hoping now that he is 27, the Statute of Limitations on Stupidity will have taken effect. 

Greg's first love.
The Adventures of Gregory
Gregory's love for "bye-byes" and other vehicles...began when he was less than a year old.  We were Christmas shopping at Shopko and just happened to pass a display of Tonka road graders.  They were huge and yellow and on sale for $14.99.  Greg's eyes grew as big as Frisbees when we paused in front of the display.  He stretched out his hands, reaching for the toys.  "Mum, Mum, Mum! Oh, Mum!" he kept repeating as he attempted to grab the closest road grader...almost falling out of the cart.  I moved the cart away toward the more colorful baby toys.  He immediately let out a screech that punctured eardrums in two counties.  I quickly returned him to the road graders.  "Mum, Mum...Oh, Mum!"  It was obvious he knew what he wanted, though I have no idea how he knew he wanted them.'

He has never looked back since that day.  There is not a truck, bus, backhoe, or army tank that escapes his notice.  His favorites are monster trucks.  He likes the ones that growl and have wicked teeth...literally "monster" trucks.  He loves lining up his Hot Wheels cars to be smashed by a toy truck with huge wheels...his own version of a Monster Truck Rally.

Tower Crane
Greg had one upstairs in his room...along with most of the rocks and gravel in the yard.

He also loves dinosaurs...but not with the same intensity.  After all, I-15 is not crawling with Stegosaurs or Brontosaurs.  The ideal toy would be a vehicle shaped like a dinosaur. Transformers came up with some of those...along with a pretty hefty price tag.  His best buddy, Trevor, gets all the current toys, but we have to be more frugal and wait for birthdays and Christmas.  So he's learned how to mix cars and dinosaurs in his play.  He simply has Godzilla stomp on his cars. 

His gee-gee (baby blanket) was wearing out so I made him a new one with streets, parks and gas stations on it.  It's the perfect size for lying quietly on the floor while playing Monster Truck Rally...and Godzilla feels more at home stomping vehicles in an urban setting.

If T-Rex and George Washington got into a fight...who would win?

Where most little kids have a teddy bear or other stuffed animal...Greg has a beloved T-Rex the size of a small dog that he carries around and sometimes sleeps with.  He asked for a G.I. Joe George Washington.  I wondered about this strange request until he told me that he wanted Washington to fight T-Rex.  Little boys are always asking the timeless question..."if (insert name) and (insert name) had a fight, who would win?" 

Imaginative Play...Cowboys Versus Aliens.

My Worst Day
When he was about 2 years of age, there came a point where it was almost impossible to keep him in the house.  We tried everything to keep him contained...multiple locks on doors, way out of his reach, were no match for his ingenuity.  There was a whole world outside our house and he wanted to explore every inch of it.  He had a little trike that he could pedal almost as fast as we could chase after him, so he could really cover some ground in a few minutes.

At the end of our street was the back fence to some property that belonged to a farmer with a hoarding problem.  His "Ranch" was a ramshackle accumulation of ancient outbuildings and wrecked automobiles...hundreds of them.  Greg could easily view the farmer's "collection" from our house and it isn't hard to imagine all the little gears inside Greg's brain working overtime.  But let's get on the with the story...

Greg about 5 years of age.

One day I was reading a magazine while Greg played quietly...a little too quietly I would realize later.  I must have become too engrossed in the article I was reading because, before I knew it, more than a half hour had passed since I had last checked on him.  He wasn't anywhere in the house, so I ran up and down the street checking all the homes on the block.  No one had seen him.  I was getting worried...he had not left our street before.

I didn't have a car was suffering from Terminal all of my searching had to be done on foot.  Around the corner, where a vacant lot began, I found his little trike half hidden in the weeds.  In my panic and distress, my imagination shifted into overdrive.  I pictured a smiling stranger plucking him off his trike an carrying him away in his white van.  I pictured posters and milk cartons that read "Have you seen this child?"

Legos...a lifelong love.
He still has most of his Lego sets.

Leaving the toy behind, I started running.  Through the neighborhood and out to the main road I ran, my heart a painful lump in my chest.  Down the canal road I ran, fearing to see him floating face down by the grassy bank.  There was no sign of him.

Finally, exhausted, I started back towards home.  At the vacant lot, two little boys were in the process of dragging the tricycle home with them.  They insisted it was theirs...they found it fair and square.  I took it away from them and asked them if they had seen Greg.  They hadn't.

The sun was going down...the days are much too short the week before Thanksgiving.  Lengthening shadows only increased my anxiety.  I pictured him cold and frightened, crying for his mother.  I couldn't call his dad...he was out of town...and I dreaded calling the police.  My fear of making phone calls can be a potentially dangerous handicap.  But I had no was getting dark.  I could just hear my neighbors asking "What kind of a mother loses her little boy."  Would I get in trouble for losing him?

Birthday trip to Disneyland.

The police arrived quickly.  Asking for a picture of Greg, they talked to me patiently and in a non-judgmental manner.  They consoled me that they would probably have him located in a very short amount of time.  Some neighbors came out to help, and the search was quickly organized.

About that time, Scotty, our faithful sheltie, came trotting home from the direction of the farmer's junkyard.  I felt a thrill of hope...I hadn't seen Scotty since Greg disappeared.  "Please look over there," I told the searchers. "I think Scotty was with him.  The police and neighbors fanned out through the wrecked cars and within minutes I heard the call, "We have him!"

I sobbed uncontrollably when the teenager who found him put him in my arms.  All the terror and panic I had tried to suppress came to the surface at once.  It was the worst day of my life...and the best...all at the same time.  Greg couldn't resist the giant collection of  "bye-byes" rusting in the farmer's field.  He must have thought it was "Truck Rally Heaven."

Greg and Dusty...our second dog.

I didn't want to let him out of my sight ever again.  But that was not to be.  This may have been the first time...and it definitely was the worst time...but it sure as shootin' wasn't the last time!  Don't even get me started on the time he got away from me at the Gap and was found in the Sears parking lot on the far side of the mall.  My youngest child made sure I would never win Mother of the Year.

Happy Birthday, Greg!

Gregory Emerson Hatfield
March 18, 1988

Every mother has a special place in her heart for her last child...the baby of the family.  The other siblings may groan and tease that Mom loves you the most.  It isn't just that you were loved and fussed was that you were the last child I would ever have.  You were the end of all the firsts...first smile, first steps, first words.   You were my last chance to hold a baby of my own, to walk the floor with in the still of night...the final little hand to set free at the kindergarten door.  You have never ceased to amaze and baffle me.  Your dad and I are so proud of the wonderful man you have grown to be.  We can't wait to see what you will do with the rest of your life.

Greg and his lovely bride, Shandi.
May 7, 2009

With Love,
Mom & Dad