Wednesday, December 21, 2016

A vignette regarding the color blue

Many residents chose  to write about a Christmas memory, Eleanor took the other option and choose to write about a color.  

​On a peaceful summer day, gazing at a cloudless blue sky, I am struck by the serenity of my surroundings.  I remember Gainsborough's beautiful artwork, "Blue Boy."  Bluebirds infiltrate the trees.  Images of forget-me-nots, cornflowers and hyacinths penetrate my brain.  A sense of security settles on the earth protected by the Navy (Navy blue).  I observe a young mother  cuddling  her infant boy, dressed in powder blue.  The world's adversities seem distant while experiencing the cool  and tranquil emotions of a blue environment. 
                                Eleanor Bongiorno

Friday, December 9, 2016

Christmas as a time for Memories


For this weeks assignments our writers were asked to either write about a Christmas memory or a vignette based on a color.   We met in the theater so everyone could view this blog on the large screen.  I also played a version of "A Christmas Memory" written and narrated by Truman Capote.



 
 
Christmas Past
by Joan Clelan
 
It is not December 25th but it's getting close.  Mother, Dad, my brother, Bob and I are getting bundled up to go out and pick out a Christmas tree, whhich we did, brought it home, hurried into the house to get warm and have our hot chocolate.  Dad is outside taking care of the tree, which will not come into the house until Christmas eve.  Picture is snowing heavily and think of the wonderful smell of the Christmas tree.  And now I am really getting excited!  Our winters now are not like they had been.  Then there was lots of snow, it was very cold, and the snow was deep with a layer of ice on top on which you could walk.  This was the 1930s and there was great sledding
 
The big day is getting closer and the smell of cookies baking, everone was busy and excitement filled the air.  Finally it was Christmas Eve!  We were told it was time to go to bed because when Santa came we had better be asleep.  Milk and cookies were placed on a plate for Satna and up the stairs we went.  Saying our prayers and thinking of Christmas and the birth of Christ.  In the morning when we awoke, we sate at the top of the stairs waiting until Mom and Dad said, "Okay you can come down now."  It didn't tak long for my brother and I to go down the steps and what a Christmas Wonderland we saw!  A blazing fire was burning in the fireplace, the Christmas tree was all aglow, and the train yard was up with the train running, passing all the houses, under the tunnel, the post office, the church, garage, firehouse, and people standing outside.  It was spectacular!  And across the living room was my Shirley Temple doll with a complete new wardroble of clothers that my mother made for her.  There were evening gowns, a black satin cloak with silver lining, and my mother had cut down my outgrown snowsuit and madeone for the doll complete with fur around the hat and coat.  I could hardly believe it!  I was more excited that I can ever remember!
 
I turned back to the train yard where my brother was opening his gifts - a chemistry set, and books and sudeenly he spied a little stove with pots and pans.  He pulled open the oven door and broke it off.  He laughed and said, "I guess you may have trouble baking now!"  Too bad but it didn't spoil my Christmas as we continued to open gifts.
 
Mother and Father were very tired as they never did get to bed on Christmas Eve.  I will never forget this particular Christmas eve, although they were always beautiful every year.  They were so happy watching Bob and I, as was my grandmother who lived with us. The aroma of turkey baking in the oven came wafting into the whole house.  I must tell you that every Christmas was wonderful, but this one remains in my mind as the very best of all!
 
 
 
  
 

Christmas at 7

By Ken Wright

Christmas at our house was a wonderful time. It was 1941 and the world had just exploded with war at Pearl Harbor and in Europe. But in in my small home in Swarthmore I was blessed with loving parents and friends who made me feel special.

So at this time of the year my life was filled with hope. What I hoped for most was that Santa would bring me a chemistry set. I wasn’t sure what I would do with it, but I really thought I wanted one. There was one problem though. In our town Santa came to see each young boy or girl who still believed in him and I wasn’t sure I still believed. My best friend Bobby told me he didn’t believe, but he wasn’t going to tell his parents cause then he might not get any presents. That is what I decided to do, but I wasn’t happy with it.

We weren’t poor, but we really weren’t rich either. Christmas meant one big gift and a stocking filled with an orange, or socks, or candies. It wasn’t like today when everybody gets dozens of presents, so my wish for a chemistry set was really important. If I thought there was any chance that I could get a bike I would have wished for that, but bikes were way too expensive for our family.

Christmas Eve came before I was ready for it and that was when our family had our big Christmas dinner and my Dad’s mother, Mom-Mom, came to be with us. The dinner had turkey and all the fixin’s and the house was filled with yummy smells and colors. My Mom didn’t believe in putting up the tree until I went to bed, but the rest of the house was filled with Christmas balls and ribbons. She also baked chocolate chip cookies that you could smell for days before. Lord, they were good!
I went to bed hoping that Santa would still come even though I wasn’t quite sure he was real, so I fell asleep a bit worried. I really wanted that chemistry set! I woke with a start. There was Santa right in my room, with my Mom and Dad peaking in the door behind him. He had a box in his hand that didn’t look big enough to hold my chemistry set, but I quickly opened it. It was a toy truck – a jeep to be correct. I tried to not cry, but I was really upset. Then Santa said, “Oh, I forgot your most important gift, Kenny!” and he handed me a new, beautiful young puppy! “What will you name him?” Santa asked. “Jeep” I said between grins as my new friend licked my face over and over. 

This was the best Christmas I ever had and I believed in Santa for a couple of years more. Oh, by the way, I never did get a chemistry set, but along with my puppy I got a brand new bike that my best friend, Jeep, and I rode all over town for the next 11 years.



What Christmas means to me

By Joann Petrovitch

First Christmas is the birth of our lord and savior Jesus Christ in the book of Luke in the King James Version of the bible.

Second Christmas is getting together with family.
Third Christmas is the spirit of giving to family and friends
Fourth Christmas is a time of Thanksgiving for another year for health.

I also enjoy writing out Christmas cards and sending them to family and friends.  It doesn't seem like people are sending Christmas cards this year as much as they use to.  Then it is early yet and a haven't as much room as I use to when I lived at Eddystone. pa I taped them all along the banister of our stair steps from the dining room almost to the second floor or house.

When my dad, Joesph Petrovitch was still living we always had a real Christmas tree in the middle of the floor between the living room and the dining room.  It stood in a red metal stand and my mother, Pauline would put water in it for the tree to drink.  It also had a few small cords to secure the bottom branches of the tree somehow to one another.  Then a tree skirt went around the bottom of the tree.  We put a manger scene in the front  and a few houses and figurines around it.  

After dinner mother and I would trim the rather large fur tree!  Mom usually put the lights on it and I tried to help her.  Next were the different Concorde Christmas balls, red, green, blue, white and yellow.  Next was the silver tonsil.  And the star that lit was on top.  

My mother hung our stockings on the banister rail that curved at the bottom.  Our names were on the stockings, Joann and Dale.

At night on Christmas Eve my mother would fill the stockings usually with toothpaste and toothbrushes an orange or 2 and a couple of candy canes sticking out of the top.  All to be seen on Christmas morning.  Also my mom gave a present, usually what we asked for.  We came downstairs Christmas morning, Dale, my brother and me and we were surprised at what we got.  Usually better than what we asked for.  

Grandmother Solomon and mr Solomon would come visit us with their son, my uncle David, who drove the from Marcus Hook, PA to our house in Eddystone.  They would stay and eat Christmas dinner with us. Turkey and all the fixings.  And sometimes bring us their Christmas gifts.  This was years ago.

We had one real Christmas Tree in 1999: the year my dad passed on.  My mom bought me a cedar chest from the Boothwyn Farmers Market, I believe.
The top was covered in a blue and white plaid canvas.  She also bought me a pretty navy blue sweater with snow men around the bottom.

Now I still have this pretty little table top tree in my living room for the past nine years that is decorated and all lit up.

These are my memories past and present.


Wednesday, November 9, 2016

A Mother's Reflection


The following is a poem written about motherhood.


I'm told that I am part of a vanishing breed,
A homemaker, mother, but more, I must plead.
An actress I've been, convincing, I'm sure,
Plus teacher, nurse, confessor, chauffeur.
They've blossomed before me, like flowers did grow,
Savor in each second, I bask in a glow.

The little league champ, a chubby young lad,
Now stands tall and lean, college dorm is his pad.
Mark Spitz in the pool, the best in his class,
He whips through the water, head shaven -alas.
And listening to tales of a generation gap,
I smile at his words, "Hey, ma, wanna rap?"

The curly-haired tomboy, eye blackened, jeans clad,
Now a gracious young lady, addicted to fad.
Florence Nightingale she, helping others her bag.
Her smile is like sunshine, her radiance her flag.
Petite and demure, perfectionist, too.
Adventuresome, anxiously exploring things new.

The tiny young fingers which my hand would squeeze
Now flutter like lightening over ivory keys.
Sarah Bernhardt and genius she labels herself,
A princess, a poet, a love able elf.
The best she must be, the star of the play,
Fiercely determined to have it no other way.

They grown each uniquely, as well it must be,
And I marvel that God entrusted this job to me.
Locked in my memory like some prize I have won,
I've treasured each moment-regrets I have none.
No other profession such joy can impart
As that of motherhood, a call from the heart.

Eleanor Bongiorno
circa 1982








Quotes by Marcus Aurelius as inspiration

The writers were given a list of quotes by Marcus Aurelius who was the Roman Emperor From 161 to 180 and asked to respond to one or more in any written form of their choosing.  These were especially poignant as we went into one of the most contentious elections of a lifetime.



"A person's worth is measured by the worth of what they value"
By Bob Moore

This quote by the famous Roman philosopher can be interpreted in different ways.  There is reality, and then there is perception.  I believe that your true worth should shine forth as the kind of person you really are, for everyone to see you and love you as a good person.  Perception is NOT reality.  It is what another person perceives as your worth in their own mind or imagination, but it’s not your true, real worth.  Your friends, esp. your best friends, accept and value you and your worth as it actually is—namely, the truth.  Others for whatever reasons misinterpret your worth and thus fail to measure you correctly.  This is their biggest mistake and a problem they must resolve to live a worthy life of character.   B