I look at this photo of me and my brother way back when, and although I don’t remember that particular moment in time, I am brought back to summers of yore. What a delight on those hot days to jump into our little plastic backyard pool.

My memories of the summers of childhood are shot through with warmth, color, happy sounds, and the unique eating pleasures of the season. Back then our watermelons had seeds in them – is that a hardship story now?

We didn’t have air conditioning, another hardship story that wasn’t really too much of a hardship. Sleeping at night involved catching regular breezes from the oscillating fan and turning our pillows over to get to the cooler side once in a while. Uncomfortable, but not unbearable.

I’m certain that there must have been plenty of mosquitos in my life back then, but my brain has mercifully chosen to excise them from the nostalgia program that I’m currently enjoying.

I went barefoot all summer long in my childhood. The soles of my feet were tough as nails, unlike the weak and easily penetrated soles of today.

Dad took us swimming fairly frequently at the lake nearest to us, one of the advantages of living in the state of 10,000 lakes. And when we came back, Mom often had supper ready for us to eat in the cool of the back porch.

Life wasn’t always perfect, but strained through the passing of time my mind has selected only some of the best parts of those days to remember. Thank you, Lord!

I’ll probably delete this in the mornings of yore.

This is yours truly kissing my Grandma Lois on the cheek. Now that I have grandchildren old enough to do that, I know what pleasure it must have given her.

Having a good laugh with my own granddaughter when she was about the age that I was in the above photo. I wonder if she thinks I’m as ancient as I thought my own grandmother was…

Musings…

I’ll probably delete this ancient blog in the morning.

The boy was doted upon as the only son of his parents. His mother was from the far away north, born in Norway and coming to the New World as a little girl. His father was a son of Minnesota, born among the pines and lakes. Somehow they met – God arranged it very carefully – and decided they were better together than apart. A marriage ceremony sealed matters nicely. The boy came along shortly afterward, but not too shortly, if you get my meaning.

He was a happy lad with a sweet and cheerful nature. But as he grew, he realized that his happiness was not quite complete. No, things wouldn’t be quite right in his world unless he had a brother. He made his petition to the parents and such was their devotion to him that they got right on it. The year the boy turned 5, everyone in the household made room for one more little boy, a baby brother, who also had a sweet and cheerful nature. And he, too, was doted upon.

Although I have added some verbiage to it, this is essentially the story my dad used to tell us about how he got a little brother. I have no reason to doubt its veracity. But there was always that twinkle in his eye as he told it…

Unless this post is doted upon, I’m afraid I shall have to delete it.

A recent visit from my cousin Mitch resulted in me having temporary access to several small boxes of pin-on buttons and other miscellaneous items that my Grandpa Harry had collected over the years.

Some of you may not know this, but I was made for the work of sorting. The good Lord put it into my nature to find sorting a very pleasant and interesting activity. I consider this to be a balancing feature to the fact that He has made other people who are able to work as EMT’s, a job I could not and would not do. I am probably the very last person you would want to have around in a crisis or an emergency. Thank God for the ways in which He distributes these different giftings. Maybe EMT’s hate to do sorting of any kind and are thanking God for people like me.

All that is to say, I spent a very pleasant half hour sorting through all those buttons and geegaws. Grandpa Harry was an executive in the Boy Scouts of America for much of his career, so it wasn’t a surprise to find lots of BSA buttons and paraphernalia.

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There was also a collection of stars that had been put on little felt circles. I’m not sure what those were for. Was it Boy Scouts related?

I think he must have been a regular volunteer for what used to be called Community Chest, a fundraising entity that became The United Way.

He also had a few old buttons from political campaigns. Willkie & McNary ran in 1940 against FDR. I looked – the buttons aren’t worth very much in spite of them being nearly 90 years old.

Harry also had a small collection of buttons and pins from the University of Minnesota, dating back to 1917 and 1919 and later. Over 100 years old!!

Mitch told me that Grandpa Harry was involved in some sort of Mosquito Prevention effort which involved him wading around spraying stuff. It sounds like nasty work, but at least he got a nice pin out of the deal.

Lastly, I found a bunch of old cufflinks among his things as well. There’s something innately classy about cufflinks, in my opinion.

Even the old salt codfish box that some of the buttons were stored in was interesting!

I felt like I knew Grandpa Harry better after looking at the things he collected and valued. And now I know where I get my propensity to collect little things like that.

I’ll probably have to do some blog post prevention in the morning.