My poor back is worse this A.M. The trip to Trader Joe’s grocery store yesterday probably did me in. That’s David’s theory. But we always blame something for our aches and pains…what we ate, the weather, the walk, not enough exercise, too much exercise.
I love trader Joe’s. So do the hundreds of other wrinkled souls who live around the store. Visiting yesterday, was a 65+ year-old’s convention. But it was briefly nice outside and the ice had melted a bit on the driveway, so it seemed safe enough. I had to go because we were out of vegetables, and I wanted some green beans to go with the Miso Salmon I fixed for our supper. Left to his own choices, David would live on cereal and mixed nuts. Heck, I even found a bag of mixed southern greens…turnip, mustard, etc. And I got some fresh spinach and mushrooms for a frittata.
I found a pot of miniature daffodils, ‘Tete a Tete’ for the kitchen table. When they fade and it warms, I will plant the spent bulbs in my garden where pots of bulbs from previous years line walkways.
I finished Her Brilliant Career, by Rachel Cooke while I recovered from my fall. I bought both the Audio (narrated by Jenny Funnel; Sandy on As Time Goes By) and the Kindle versions for me, and a hardcover for my granddaughter. A good book but uneven. I found some of the essays about career English women in the 1950s are more interesting than others, probably a function of both my age and experience. For example, I found the essay about Margery Fish interesting because I have lived with overbearing men, garden, and like her designs. Ditto the essay on fashion because I made my own clothes using designer patterns from Vogue, or Buttrick, a less expensive cousin.
Like Katherine Hepburn (my heroine), I don’t own a skirt or dress anymore, only slacks or pants with stretchy waists. The first items of clothing I made fell apart because I was a poor housewife, and bought cheap fabric, but later on I bought better fabric and made better clothes. When I made a suit, I even managed to impress my MIL Rachel who was a seamstress. I will never forget the day in 1973 she said, “You made that?” with wonder and surprise. I was a pretty good seamstress until the early 1980s, when I gave up sewing. Below, me, modeling a couple of my fashion statements.
On my way to church with Connie, FL, 1964 (pregnant with John).
Connie, First Communion, Hawaii, 1968 (I made her dress also!)
While laid up, I have been working on my genealogy and discovered a few interesting items. I am certain, all four of my mother’s grandparents migrated from the Netherlands in the early 1870s, and although I am certain they were Dutch, they sailed from Liverpool in England. The U.S. immigration authorities, probably overwhelmed by millions of migrants at this time, classified one as English and the other as German. Later in censuses, they both show up as German.
Thank goodness, I have been collecting information about my ancestors for years, and had a chance to spend time with now deceased relatives. Although their stories are often distorted by time, and altered purposefully by some, material collected on both sides by ‘professional’ genealogists as well as my years of experience dealing with census and vital records, as well as a graduate degree in history, give me a basis for comparison.
I think the line from the refugee cook in A Murder is Announced, who, when asked by the police her point of origin, says, “I don’t know, I haven’t read the paper today,” says it all.