Wednesday, February 22, 2012

The Streets I Roamed In The 50's and 60's Have Changed Somewhat

Things change  it's a fact of life. Some changes are more drastic than others. In January as I walked the old sidewalks of Carthage in Cincinnati it brought back memories of my youth.


The fair grounds, every year we would go to the fair. One year I was so scared to exit the fun house via the slide, Dad had to come and calmly talk me out. Too many crazy cartoons.


One of the lovely brick houses in Carthage.

This is the house I grew up in. The porch has been taken down, the picket fence removed, and  the lilac bushes torn out, it is now an auto parts place.

The park across the street from the house. We spent our summers in the pool, playing games, doing crafts,  riding bicycles and general running around as children do.  

I walked this sidewalk every school day I was able to go to school. I don't remember it ever being so dirty. 

Elementary school. It's now a community center. The floors shined in this school they were so clean. 

Singing in the church choir was one of my passions as a child, these doors were recently refinished.


Originally this was a fire hall, long before I came along.


I loved the ornamentation of this building, it needs some TLC.

This is where Mom gets her hair done, it's a busy place.

A side door to what was a drug store. I remember frequenting the soda fountain after high school. One day a large boy asked for the usual, I was so embarrassed for him when the woman said in a nasty tone"And what is the usual?" 




This was also a drug store.

Hodapp's funeral home, The outside hasn't changed much. I have viewed many a loved one at Hodapp's. When I had my back operations they gave us a stretcher so I could go places if need be. They also drove me to the hospital on a number of occasions.



Colonial 

Victorian

Craftsman. Three styles of architecture all on one block.

Going back in winter, it seamed so bleak with all the bare trees, so much grey. I was grateful for the brightly painted buildings with their decorative facades. Old and loved, old and used with neglect, it's all their.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Karen's Endless Blooms

It was a frosty February 4TH, 2012 the one year anniversary for Karen  at "Karen's Endless Blooms". She graduated from Florist school in 1981. The first 4 months were business related not one bloom in sight. It makes sense all the knowledge as a florist would just go out the window if you had no business sense. 
On my way to Karen's Endless Blooms I had to stop at Jennet Palmer's to take some photo's of the frosty globe thistles. 
Karen feels great about the move to Enderby, her husband is very supportive and paid the first months rent. In the shop I was drawn to a beautiful white flower, my nose led the way. It was the kind of flower that smelled so good you wanted to eat it, but then you couldn't smell it ,so you savor the aroma. Yummy. When I asked Karen for a photo with her favorite flowers, turns out it was the very yummy flowers I was sniffing, Gardenia. She wore them in her hair when she got married, I can just imagine how beautiful she was with Gardenias in her hair wafting a luscious aroma as she walked down the isle.

Gardenia!

Karen with the yummy Gardenia.





I came home with carnations and Bird of Paradise.

As a florist Karen gets people coming in for a variety of reasons.  Some of the sold flowers in her cooler were for people that helped with the procession of Dan Botkin. She already has weddings booked for September, and Valentine's is ten days away. If you think of flowers in terms of emotions, Karen has a lot of emotions walking through her door. It takes a special skill to deal with people and their emotions on a daily basis. Next time you go see Karen tell her she's beautiful.




Kathy Dick, Mom


Toast Masters Club 3849 January 24th 2012 Open House


This is the edited version of the speech I gave for our open house. I took out a few bits and I added my most hilarious blunder. This blunder was in front of my peers and the public. A blunder can make or break your speech, depending on how you react to it. They didn't know it wasn't part of the speech and tears were streaming down their faces as they rolled in the isles with laughter.




Kathy Dick

Mom's birthday is January 9th, she lives in Cincinnati Ohio. A long way from here, so I rarely get to spend time with Mom on her birthday. The last three times I have been back to Cincinnati were for deaths. With 2007 being the last visit. I was feeling a need to see my Mom.

My sister “Jessica” who lives in Abbotsford was going to be there, how great would it be for Mom to have all three of her kids together for her 76th Birthday.

Mom is a brave, character. Over the years she has been crippled by rheumatoid arthritis, and broken up by an unfortunate accident, Mom verses speeding muscle car. For months after her accident we did not know if she would ever talk, walk or play her favorite game, “Scrabble”. My Brother Bob moved in with Mom when her second husband passed away in 2006. Bob cooks, drives Mom around and plays scrabble with her.

Our plane arrived at the Greater Cincinnati Airport, in Kentucky, an hour late. Jessica announced my arrival as I pulled my rolling luggage into the waiting area. Mom's whole body had a glowing grin with the anticipation of my arrival. She was sitting in a row of seats against the wall with her feet stomping the floor. She was wearing a pair of Pink canvas Sketchers with a red peace symbol on the tongue. Little plastic gems covered the white rubber toes and side walls, no shoe laces . Every stomp set off a series of small LED lights flashing red, white, and blue. She stomped at everyone in the airport as we were leaving till they commented on her shoes. Everyone loved them and she ate up the attention. We would have been in the airport a long time had it been busy. Luckily it was late in the day, we passed two people.

Jessica treated Mom, Bob and I to a Birthday dinner at B.J.'s Restaurant and Brew House. Gary treated Jessica to dinner. Mom wore her new pink, canvas, stomping shoes. We arrived for an early meal and the restaurant was not busy. As the evening progressed more people arrived. Sitting at a table close to our booth was a birthday party for a middle aged women named Karen. We had to go introduce the birthday girls to each other before leaving. With so many more people in the restaurant Mom stomped all the way out blushing with the attention.

Bob drove Mom and I home. From the back seat I could see we were overtaking a police car in the right hand lane. Mom started stomping her feet, I don't know how she got her feet on the dash. That's when it struck me. Those shoes light up like a police car. “Please Mom, stop stomping your feet.”

In the 60's when we started playing Scrabble no one would challenge my words; they just fixed them for me. Mom was thrilled when I wanted to play a game. She kept saying to Bob “No Karen doesn't want to play. Do you want to Play?” They played so much and changed a rule, I had to say yes. A dictionary is only to be consulted for a challenged word. They used their dictionaries to find words to play. Justifying gaining the knowledge of many more words. I needed no convincing. Mom's face glowed like her pink, canvas, stomping shoes, when she talked about me playing scrabble.

Mom always towered over me, she being all of 5'-2”. Fighting the tears as I hung mom, No, No I didn't hang Mom, I hugged Mom so small in my arms. I was living up to her expectations, and passing her as she shrunk into her crippled body. And I have been shrinking for a few years.

We can only hope for good health, more visits and many scrabble games.