Tag Archives: memories

What Does the Rain Tell Us?


Today is a beautiful rainy day filled with cleansing, hope, and clean air. The sound of the rain hitting the roof, and running out the drain pipes are soothing to me. My bedroom window is open at night, and yes it’s cold, but it’s also refreshing. The sound soothes me to sleep, and I awaken refreshed and ready to go……after a cup of tea or coffee that is!

This weekend has been so lovely and cleansing. I can hear the trees telling me how good they feel, and how nice a bath is after a hot summer. Their leaves are green, and I can hear them singing as the breeze zips through their branches, and makes helps them to rustle.

All the Neighborhood birds are securely tucked into their nests, being so quiet I could swear they are all sleeping, and I can almost hear them snoring. Not a peep is coming from any of them!

As I take a deep breath in, I feel calm and relaxed, memories of my childhood rushing back, of being wrapped in a big blanket to sit by the fireplace. It brings back to me smells of cocoa, and the taste of popcorn. They are good memories, and I welcome more rain, and possibly a bit of thunder , all while filling me with even more childhood memories so sweet it feels like warm brownies fresh out of the oven and melting in my mouth.

Thank you for stopping to read Stone Soup, come back again. Karen

Strange Midnight Movies


The Mystic Masseur

The Mystic Masseur

When I was a teenager, every once in a while Mom, and I would find ourselves not able to sleep.  I would walk out of my bedroom at maybe 12:00 am to find Mom sitting in front of the TV watching some strange, off the wall movie. Usually they would be foreign films, the ones  that we could barely understand!   I’d sit down with her, and before you knew it we’d both be deep into this strange movie.  These were movies no one had ever heard of, and it was easy to tell why.  They were so quirky, and odd that we were transfixed, and couldn’t shut  off the TV until it was over.  This was sometimes 2:30 or 3:00 in the morning.  Most likely this was either a weekend event, or happened during the summer, because I don’t ever remember having to go to school the next day.

A couple of weeks ago, the weather being  hot, stuffy, quite humid, and not particularly a day that I was able to get motivated to do much work.  I turned on Netflix to see what I could find to occupy a couple of hours, maybe getting through the humidity the easy way.  What I found was another of the same kind of movies Mom and I use to watch together many years ago!  Admittedly, the picture caught my attention, and that’s exactly why I persevered.

I had a deja vu moment!

This movie was so different in a kind of fun way, and I couldn’t stop watching it. The audio was poor, and  the accents made it difficult  also.  But I had to keep watching anyway!  All I could think of was how much fun Mom, and I had watching these midnight movies, that were much like this one!

The story was simple…..how the characters lived, and enter acted was simple, and it was the perfect solution to a hot, and humid day that wasn’t good for much else but an interesting movie!  Maybe the simple lifestyle pulled me in, or the cute way the characters talked to each other, but I was fascinated.

Good memories are the most fun, and maybe when we get older, the memories are what sustain us.  I didn’t think I was old enough to sit and rely on my memories, but maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe it doesn’t matter what age a person is, if it bring them joy to remember the good….bring those memories on!

What do you think?  Does it make you feel good to remember good memories, or do you think there isn’t time for it now?

Memories of Days Gone Bye


Several years ago, I belonged to a Genealogy Club, and  was learning how to do research, in an attempt to find my long forgotten relatives. This was  a lot more difficult than one might think. My heritage is English, Irish, and Scotch, two-thirds of them came to Canada on a boat.  One would have thought it easy to do this research, and find the manifests with the names on it, but  it wasn’t that easy!  They could have entered the US or Canada in  a rowboat, or a blow-up boat for all I know, because I couldn’t find them!   The records are difficult to search through, even with help!  Eventually, the researching took up so much time, that the dead relatives had to take a back seat.    I had to decide if I wanted to sit in front of a computer getting a bubble butt, or did I want to paint. I decided  painting was more important at the time, and to leave the bubble butt research to a time when I couldn’t paint, or see to paint. The irony is, if I can’t see to paint, I can’t see to do research!   And,  if I can’t see to do research, I can’t write either!

I’ll tell you though, it certainly is fun when you can find a lost, and forgotten relative that you knew was there, but had never been able to locate before!

I remember when I was  about  eleven going with my Father into Canada while on vacation in Michigan.  We went to visit his two uncles who lived in the same farm-house that his mother, and her siblings grew up in.  I loved going there, and remembered going when I was quite young.  This one trip Dad, and I took  in summer of ’54,  was  very hot, and humid.   It must have taken us at least a  couple of hours to drive from Michigan into Canada, but it was ok with me because there was a lot to see, and even then I loved to travel, explore, and see new things.

Old Map of Ontario

Old Map of Ontario

As we wound around the country roads in Ontario, my eyes must have been the size of saucers.  The old trees, farm homes, live stock, and people were so different from where I was being raised in the suburbs of Los Angeles.  Finally, we spotted this old, weathered, grayed farm-house.  It had a metal fence around it and everything looked, ……well, it looked so worn out!  It was worn out, it was most likely over a hundred years old by then.  Just before we visited that year, my great uncles had sectioned off a little room, and put in a real working toilet.  Today, they would call that room  a water closet, and I’m here to tell you it was one of the first water closets!  They had also finally put in running water in the kitchen,  with a pump and a large oblong metal sink.  I could hardly believe my eyes!  Having big bathrooms, and a large modern kitchen was the norm in our home, and to think anyone in the ’50’s wouldn’t have running water, or a bathroom was amazing to me!  Remember, I was eleven at the time!

What really fascinated me was the pump in the kitchen!  I remember the pump squeaked when you pulled up on the handle, and had pressure when you pushed down.  A little stream of water came running out while you pushed down.  I just couldn’t get over it!   The last time I had been to see my great uncles, the pump was outside, and they carried water into the house in buckets.  This clearly was an improvement!

When I was maybe two and a half, or three my parents put me to bed upstairs, where I was lucky enough to sleep in a big feather bed.  Never have I seen anything like that feather bed since.   I remember a huge pot belly stove in the middle of the parlor to heat the entire house.  Those memories will forever stay with me, and I still remain in awe of how people lived in those days.  Most of my memories were of  the inside of the house, but not so much of the outside. I do remember the outhouse, because I didn’t like sitting out there in that rickety building with a moon of the door (I’m not kidding here), on that round thing with a hole in it…one little bit!    There were flies,  bees, and hornets…..a cute little girl like me could get stung sitting out there!  My parents moved to California just after  my third birthday, and I never returned to the old farm-house again.

My uncle asked if we would like to stay for lunch, and of course we said “Yes!”  Lunch  that day was spaghetti, to me that sounded really good  at the time.   Until my uncle pulled out  a  can of Chef Boyardee UnknownSpaghetti.  Do I sound like a snob? But, I was just a little girl without any experiences!  Looking back maybe they didn’t have a lot of money.  Thinking back on that today, I’m sure they didn’t have a lot of money, or why would things be in such horrible shape.  On the other hand, they were farm boys, and bachelors at that.  They weren’t young at the time, and  had been living alone for  many years….. who cared?   I loved that old farm-house, and all the memories from when I was little. I loved being there, and didn’t really care either.    The spaghetti wasn’t that good, especially since I was counting on home-made spaghetti.  But Dad, and I ate it, and were grateful for our lunch,  and being able to be there all  together too.

Later in the day,  we said goodbye to my great uncles, we  got in our car, and drove back home to my Grandmother’s home in Michigan.    I think about that house and what their lives must have been like  growing up there.   They were  farmers,  I’m told that my Great-grandfather was a live stock veterinarian, but my Grandmother didn’t talk much about any of them.

In doing research, I could only verify that my Great-Grandmother came to Canada from Scotland, but that’s all I could find.  I want to know more, and until I give up painting and writing, things are put on hold.  Dead relatives have to wait in line.

There is one thing for sure…..I have work to do, all kinds of work!  Not only do I want it all, I want to do it all!  You can understand, right?