Friday, March 30, 2018

Better weather


Tues., February 4, 1936 - Cold, clear and blowing today.  Goodlings, Earl, Verdelle Mae, and Herbert N. were the only ones at school.  We got through at 1:30 and the kids went home.  Mr. Nieman came at 3:00 for us.
Wed., February 5, 1936 - Everybody back in school today.  Nice sunshiny day, but pretty cold.  Howard came up to school tonite, so I got a ride home.
Thurs., February 6, 1936 - Have been feeling punk as the dickens this week.  I'm getting rheumatism in my right hip again.  We had hash for hot lunch.

I am not overly fond of cold weather, but there is something about a sunshiny, yet cold day in winter that is invigorating and refreshing.  As proof, here's a photo of me this winter on a sunshiny day, cold enough that my hair and hat is frosted from my breath.  I guess the hay stuck to my face has nothing to do with it, but it completes the look, don't you think?

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Birthday blizzard


Sat., February 1, 1936 - Went to Norfolk on the train.  Saw Niemans and came home with them.  The oxfords I got at Buck's before Xmas were breaking out at the side.  I took them back and they gave me a new pair.  Tonite Mom and I went to Gormley.  Mom had four teeth pulled, and I had one wisdom tooth pulled.
Sun., February 2, 1936 - Frank Fleer & Edwin scooped out our street this morning.  I typed parts for the program.  Raymond brought Irene's typewriter in yesterday.  We had oyster soup tonite.  Howard was here, too.  He took me out to Nieman's tonite.
Mon., February 3, 1936 - Treated the kids to candy bars today.  Jean & Marjorie brought me a cream puff.  Pete C. & Temmes came at 3:00 for their kids.  A regular blizzard had started.  At times we could hardly see south to Nieman's.  The rest got rides home at 4:00.  Went to bed early.

Ah, cream puffs.  Such a wonderful food invention.  I know Mom has said she wonders why she doesn't make them more often, easy and so good.

Photo from cookieactress.com

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Lots of words


Wed., January 29, 1936 - Clear today.  Worked later than usual at the schoolhouse.  Embroidered tonite after supper.
Thurs., January 30, 1936 - I went with Niemans to Altona tonite to Mrs. Nieman's mother who is 78 years old today.  We got home a little after 12.
Fri., January 31, 1936 - Goodlings came down this evening.  Howard came after me.  The snow was so drifted in our street that we had to walk the last block.

Grandma and the Niemans barely missed visiting the town of Altona v. the "unincorporated community" of Altona.  Here's the totality of wikipedia's historical information on Altona: 

     "Altona was founded in 1898.  It was named after Altona, in Germany.  A post office was established at Altona in 1898, and remained in operation until it was discontinued in 1935."

The German Altona gets more coverage:

     "Founded in 1535 as a village of fishermen in then Holstein-Pinneberg. In 1640, Altona came under Danish rule as part of Holstein-Glückstadt, and in 1664 received city rights from Danish King Frederik III, then ruling in personal union as duke of Holstein. Altona was one of the Danish monarchy's most important harbour towns.

     Because of the severe restrictions on the number of Jews allowed to live in Hamburg until 1864, a major Jewish community developed in Altona starting in 1611, when Count Ernest of Schaumburg and Holstein-Pinneberg granted the first permanent residence permits to Ashkenazic Jews.  Members did business both in Hamburg and in Altona itself. All that remains after the Nazi Holocaust during World War II are the Jewish cemeteries, but in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries, the community was a major center of Jewish life and scholarship. The Holstein-Pinneberg and later Danish Holstein had lower taxes and placed fewer civil impositions on their Jewish community than did the government of Hamburg.

     The wars between Denmark and the German Confederation—the First Schleswig War (1848–1851) and the Second Schleswig War (February – October 1864)—and the Gastein Convention of 1864, led to Denmark's cession of the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein to Prussian administration and Lauenburg to Austrian administration. Along with all of Schleswig-Holstein, Altona became part of the Kingdom of Prussia in 1867.

     During the Weimar era following World War I, the city of Altona was disturbed by major labor strikes and street disorders. Inflation in Germany was a major problem. In 1923 Max Brauer, the mayor of Altona, directed that city personnel be paid in part with gas meter tokens, as these coins did not lose value from inflation.  The most notable event at this time is the Altona Bloody Sunday on July 17, 1932 when several persons were shot by the police force during a demonstration of Nazi groups. After police raids and a special court, on August 1, 1933 Bruno Tesch and others were found guilty and put to death by beheading with a hand-held axe.  In the 1990s, the Federal Republic of Germany reversed the convictions of Tesch and the other men who were put to death, clearing their names.

     The Greater Hamburg Act removed Altona from the Free State of Prussia in 1937 and merged it (and several surrounding cities) with the Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg in 1938."

I'll be honest.  There's a lot of words and phrases and information right there that I skimmed right over.  But I did see "hand-held axe".  Gruesome.

Photo of Altona, Germany from wikipedia.

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Cornstarch pudding?


Sun., January 26, 1936 - Slept until 9:30.  Edwin here for breakfast.  He's been staying here this last week.  Howard came in tonite and took me out to Nieman's.  We built a fire at the schoolhouse.
Mon., January 25, 1936 - Had a ride to school in the lumber wagon.  Clear this afternoon.  Copied program parts this evening.
Tues., January 26, 1936 - Cornstarch pudding for hot lunch.  Cloudy and snowing at times today.  Corrected papers after supper.

I do not believe I have ever had cornstarch pudding.  There are several recipes, but I found this one at cooks.com.  I may have to make it just to check it out.

1 c. sugar (scant)
3 tbsp. rounded cornstarch
2 1/2 c. milk
Dash of salt
1 tsp. vanilla

Mix sugar and cornstarch. Add milk, salt and vanilla. Cook until thickened. Be careful of scorching. Serve hot or cold.

The comments to the recipe were rather fun.  Many people reminisced that it was what their grandmother made for them and they considered this pudding real comfort food.  Some said this particular recipe was too sweet, others said they used to have it served over ham and green beans.  Raisins, cinnamon and peaches are probably the mentioned add-ins that I would prefer, however.  One said she was pretty sure her grandmother never added salt nor vanilla, leaving it at just the three ingredients.  The photo provides yet another version.

Monday, March 26, 2018

Sometimes winter is just no fun


Thurs., January 23, 1936 - Mr. Niemann took us to school in the lumber wagon.  Not quite as cold today.  Snowed again tonite.
Fri., January 24, 1936 - Mr. Niemann took me to town after school.  I went to lodge.  Only Mrs. Wolf and Laura Jensen were there so we didn't have any.  I stopped at Cora Brodd's to see a quilting pattern.
Sat., January 25, 1936 - I was going to Norfolk but the train was so late, I went back up the hill.  Miss Nuss was up this evening.  She brought a dress to be made.  Hank Koch's charivari party at Wacker's tonite,  I suppose it was too cold for the Iversens or they would have come.

Cold, snow, rides in lumber wagons, no-shows for events . . . like I said, sometimes winter is simply no fun.  So, here's a photo of me having a good time in winter.  Notice the big blob of snow stuck to the house between the window and the door. 

Friday, March 23, 2018

Too cold for me


Mon., January 20, 1936 - The kids made a snow house in the bank of snow near the snow fence in John Mann's pasture.  They're having quite a time with it.
Tues., January 21, 1936 - The kids have 2 rooms in their snow house.  We had baked beans and mashed potatoes for hot lunch.  Grandmother 83 years old today.
Wed., January 22, 1936 - Jean and Marjorie came home with Verdelle Mae tonite.  They had a grand time playing.  Some thermometers registered 24 degrees below most of the day.

I don't know how cold it was this particular Monday and Tuesday, but bully for the kids for building a snow house.  When it get awfully cold, I don't even take my dog outside to do her business anymore.  I took two lengths of baling twine to extend her leash and now I stand inside while she has enough length to find the right spot.  Brrr!  That's the real her in the photograph, not just some random dog photo.

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Dentist's hours


Fri., January 17, 1936 - The real blizzard weather is here today.  Ray came after me.  He started to work for Bill Rabe's tonite.  So I can't drive to school anymore.  Too stormy to go to Card Club at Wagner's tonite.
Sat., January 18, 1936 - Sophia was here this p.m.  She and John were on their way to Wayne with Wenzel Jensen but had car trouble.  I had a wisdom tooth pulled by Gormley tonite.
Sun., January 19, 1936 - Mr. & Mrs. Wilson Miller and Margaret were here this p.m.  Ray was home awhile tonite.  Howard brought me back to Nieman's.  We built a fire in the schoolhouse.

A dentist who works on Saturday, or rather Saturday night?  How crazy is that?

I do not think I have ever heard of Wenzel Jensen or the Wilson Millers.

But, on to wisdom teeth, from deardoctor.com:

     Third molars have been referred to as “teeth of wisdom” since the Seventeenth Century and simply “wisdom teeth” since the Nineteenth Century. The third molars generally appear much later than other teeth, usually between the ages of 17 and 25 when a person reaches adulthood. It is generally thought among linguists that they are called wisdom teeth because they appear so late, at an age when a person matures into adulthood and is “wiser” than when other teeth have erupted.

     Lately, science has added some credence to the idea that the third molar does indeed erupt when a person is “wiser”. Recent research has shown the brain continues to grow and develop right on through adolescence: in fact, most researchers believe the brain does not reach full maturity until the age of 25. Perhaps, then, our ancestors weren't so far off the mark — that the eruption of “wisdom teeth” is a sign that the carefree days of childhood have given way to the responsibilities of adulthood.

I guess I took longer to get smart, because my wisdom teeth did not come in until after Mitch was born, so basically after I was 29.

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Quilting into the night


Tues., January 14, 1936 - We had bean soup at school for dinner.  Talked a lot again tonite.
Wed., January 15, 1936 - Snowed a little this p.m.  I went with Niemans to Fischer's to quilt.  When we came home at 12:30, three inches of snow were on the ground and still snowing, no wind.
Thurs., January 16, 1935 - Clear and no wind.  Ray and Mom came at 4:00 p.m.  We went up to Morris' to Sophia's shower.  The ladies were just leaving.  She rec'd a lot of nice presents.  We got home about 10:00.  Fired up at the schoolhouse before we went to Nieman's.

Unless it was a day off from school, I have to say the 12:30 arrival back home was a.m., not p.m.  Why am I not surprised?  Quilters gotta quilt.  I do not know who ended up with the quilt in the photo or even if it was one Grandma quilted for someone else, but I like it.


Monday, March 19, 2018

Working from home


Sat., January 11, 1936 - At noon Ray took me to F. Nieman's to see about staying there next week.  It's OK with them.  Went to the dentist tonite, he wouldn't pull either of my teeth because they were still sore.  
Sun., January 12, 1936 - Mom and I went to church.  This p.m. Ray, Mom and I went to Kahlers, they weren't home so we went to Hoffman's.  Howard took me out to Nieman's tonite.
Mon., January 13, 1936 - The schoolhouse was pretty cold.  I took work home but didn't do much because we talked too much.  Donald T. treated us to candy, his birthday was yesterday.

I know all too much about taking work home at night and then not getting it done.  But, it has always been work that was not time-sensitive, so there was no horrible fallout.

For no particular reason, here is a photo of some of my day lilies from last year.


Friday, March 16, 2018

A heat wave and some beans


Wed., January 9, 1936 - Goodlings thermometer registered 8 degrees above this morning.  We didn't talk quite so late tonite.  I'm sleeping on the davenport which is in the dining room.  I start the fire in the mornings.
Thurs., January 9, 1936 - So warm today that it thawed this afternoon.  We started hot lunches today, our first lunch being mashed potatoes and pickled beans.
Fri., January 10, 1936 - Mr. Goodling took me to town after supper.  Ray, Willie and Lillie got back at 6:00 p.m.  Edna R. came with them.  Ray can't join the navy.  He couldn't pass the physical exam.  We went to Carroll to John and Sophia's charivari dance.  Peter J., Eddie P., Jimmy J. and Howard came from installation at Wayne at intermission.  I went home with Howard.

I wonder why Uncle Ray had troubles with the Navy's physical examination.

I wonder when I last had dilly beans, one version of pickled beans.  I also wonder if I should grow some beans this year just so I can can some dilly beans.  Hmmm.

Thursday, March 15, 2018

Playing marbles


Sun., January 5, 1936 - Snowy and cold.  Ray, Willie, and Lillie came in tonite about 5:00.  They're going to Omaha tomorrow.  Ray is going to take the examinations to join the Navy.  Howard brought me out to Goodlings tonite.
Mon., January 6, 1936 - Schoolhouse cold.  Cold all day outside.  Went to installation tonite.  Howard and the girls came with Leo & Nels because their car isn't working right.  Carroll installed Rebekahs & Winside the Odd Fellows.  I was installed as secretary.
Tues., January 7, 1936 - Still real cold.  Spring must be coming because the boys brought their marbles to school today.  We talked until about 10:30 tonite.   21 degrees below zero this a.m.

Having never played marbles -- I was fond of jacks, however -- I looked up the rules.  It seems pretty simple but I do not have plans to play anytime soon.  My knees would never forgive me.  The cartoon is from the 1950's, but I still thought it was cute.  Also believe Grandma would have gotten a chuckle out of it.

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

Car troubles, or rather trouble with a car


Thurs., January 2, 1936 - Schoolhouse cold this morning.  Ray brought me to school and came after me.  To Carroll for installation tonite.  Ray went along.  We thought Sophia & John were going to have their charivari dance tonite but they're not having it until next Friday nite.
Fri., January 3, 1936 - Ray took me to school again.  I was going to drive but I had trouble starting the car.  Ray left it in that extra gear last nite and I couldn't get it out of that.
Sat., January 4, 1936 - Slept late.  Started a blouse out of my old green silk dress.  Ray went up to Uncle Hans' to the dance up there tonite.  I didn't care about going.

I do not know what kind of car Grandma was talking about, but here's a photo of the interior of a random 1935 automobile.  Quite different from today's cars to say the least.

Friday, March 9, 2018

Too busy to write until almost 1936


Wed., December 18, 1935 - Mr. Podoll came after Mrs. Podoll's dress.  He happened to mention that Alma was home.  So I went up there to tell her she was on the lodge Xmas treat committee.
.
.
.
Tues., December 31, 1935 - Didn't do much today.  Tonite I made my tally cards for tomorrow nite.  Went to bed about 10:30.
Wed., January 1, 1936 - Bernice Hoffman was here a few minutes this morning.  We worked like the dickens for the party tonite.  Francis, Hank, Don & Mildred W. weren't here.  We had oodles of oyster soup.

It seems Grandma had a very busy holiday season for her to miss so many days in her diary.  I am guessing she had lots of fun.

Oyster soup.  I have wanted so much to like it, but haven't gotten there yet.  It looks good (rather like potato soup, which I love) and smells good.  I tried just the broth once, thinking maybe the oysters themselves were the problem, but nope.  So far, oyster soup and I are not on good terms.  Photo from addapinch.com.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Outing and abouting


Sun., December 15, 1935 - Ray didn't have to work today.  Howard came in tonite.  We went to Wayne and saw James Cagney in "Frisco Kid".  Ray went along with us.
Mon., December 16, 1935 - To Leffler's party tonite.  Rews, Iversens, Gladys R., Ethel, Lydia Kant and myself were there.  We had an exchange of gifts.  Howard's 28th birthday.
Tues., December 17, 1935 - The kids were going to Elmer's tonite for his birthday but I stayed home to get some much needed sleep.

Grandma doesn't say if she liked the movie.  From the summary (taken from wikipedia), I have to say I do not think it would be one of my favorites -- way too much going on to keep straight.  Great movie poster, however.

     "In San Francisco in the 1850s, a city where gold fever has left shipowners short-handed, Bat Morgan, a sailor come ashore is robbed and nearly shanghaied aboard another ship. Managing to escape, he sticks around town to pay back those responsible and then to take a cut in the action in the vice district. Organizing the various gambling houses (and other forms of vice implied but, for Code reasons, not explicitly stated) into a consolidated enterprise in alliance with a corrupt city boss, Jim Dailey, he comes into conflict with a crusading newspaper, run by Jean Barrat, the daughter of the late murdered publisher, and Charles Ford, the idealistic editor.

     Loyal to his friends, even when they are on the other side, Bat Morgan protects the editor, when Jim Dailey orders him eliminated. He also falls in love with Jean, but his way of life and lack of any morality beyond looking out for number one make a permanent relationship all but impossible.

     Riled at a judge's snub, he determines to bring his Barbary Coast crowd to the opening night at the Opera House, which the Judge has opened as an alternative place of amusement to the gambling dens. A gambler, Paul Morra, shoulders his way into the judge's box and on a flimsy excuse, murders him. The outrage provokes a public outcry, and when Morra is arrested and jailed and a lynch mob gathers, crying for his blood, Bat arranges his release, not so much because he likes him as because he owes him a debt of gratitude for having started him on the upward rise.

     Soon after, Ford is murdered by Jim Dailey in a bar-room fight. Jean blames Bat, holding him responsible for all the evil done by those who work with him. A vigilance movement sets out to clean up the town, rounding up Morra and Dailey, and hanging them both. When the lowlife of the Barbary Coast determine to pay it back by wrecking the press and burning the city, Bat Morgan convinces them to do otherwise. Trying to keep them from fighting back as the vigilantes come to destroy the Coast, he is shot in the back by one of the underworld forces and captured by the vigilantes. Jean Barrat saves him from hanging, and he is permitted to go free, on her parole."

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

The real Annie Oakley


Thurs., December 12, 1935 - We went to card club at Walker's tonite.  Plans were made for an oyster supper at our place Jan. 1.
Fri., December 13, 1935 - Lodge tonite.  Alma, Carrie Hansen, and I are on the committee to fix the Christmas treats for the next meeting.  I was elected secretary last meeting.
Sat., December 14, 1935 - I went to Norfolk on the train.  Did my Christmas shopping.  Met Lydia Wittler, we shopped together all afternoon.  Met Mildred Walker later in the afternoon.  Mom and Ray came up about 7:30.  After buying a few more things we went to the show.  We saw "Annie Oakley."

Instead of my usual movie poster, I researched the real Annie Oakley instead.  Here's information about her, her husband and her dog from centerofthewest.org:

"Annie Oakley was born Phoebe Ann Moses—called Annie by her family—on August 13, 1860, in Darke County, Ohio. This unassuming woman, who would perform before royalty and presidents, came from humble beginnings. When Annie was 6, her father, Jacob Moses, died of pneumonia—leaving her mother, Susan Wise Moses, with six children and little else. Annie’s mother remarried but her second husband, Dan Brumbaugh, died soon after, again leaving her with a new baby.

At the age of 8 or 9, Annie went to live with Superintendent Edington’s family at the Darke County Infirmary, which housed the elderly, the orphaned, and the mentally ill. In exchange for helping with the children, Annie received an education and learned the skill of sewing from Mrs. Edington, which she would later use to make her own costumes. Perhaps this early experience of working in such a sobering place aroused Annie’s lifelong compassion for children. She remained with the Edington’s until she was 13 or 14.

When she returned to her family, Annie’s mother had married a third time to Joseph Shaw. Even with this remarriage, the family finances were marginal. Annie used her father’s old Kentucky rifle to hunt small game for the Katzenberger brother’s grocery store in Greenville, Ohio, where it was resold to hotels and restaurants in Cincinnati, 80 miles away. Annie was so successful at hunting that she was able to pay the $200 mortgage on her mother’s house with the money she earned. She was 15 years old.

Her noted shooting ability brought an invitation from Jack Frost, a hotel owner in Cincinnati who had purchased her game, to participate in a shooting contest against a well-known marksman, Frank E. Butler.

Annie Oakley video anecdoteButler was on tour with several other marksmen. While on the road, he typically offered challenges to local shooters. Annie won the match with twenty-five shots out of twenty-five attempts. Butler missed one of his shots. This amazing girl entranced Butler, and the two shooters began a courtship that resulted in marriage on August 23, 1876.

Annie and Frank Butler first appeared in a show together May 1, 1882. Butler’s usual partner was ill and Annie filled in by holding objects for Frank to shoot at, and doing some of her own shooting. It was at this time that Annie adopted the stage name of Oakley. Off stage, she was always Mrs. Frank Butler. For the next few years, the Butlers traveled across the country giving shooting exhibitions with their dog, George, as an integral part of the act.

At a March 1884 performance in St. Paul, Minnesota, Annie befriended the Lakota leader Sitting Bull. The victor over George Armstrong Custer at the 1876 Battle of Little Big Horn, Sitting Bull was impressed with Oakley’s shooting, her modest appearance, and her self-assured manner. Although Sitting Bull was still a political prisoner at Fort Yates, he was in town for an appearance, and had arranged to meet Oakley. They became fast friends. It was Sitting Bull who dubbed her “Little Sure Shot.”

In 1884, the Butlers joined the Sells Brothers Circus as “champion rifle shots,” but only stayed with the circus for one season. After a brief period on their own, Butler and Oakley joined Buffalo Bill’s Wild West in 1885. This was a significant turning point in Annie Oakley’s life and in her relationship with Butler. Until this time either Butler had received top billing or they had shared the limelight. However, with the Wild West, Oakley was the star. It was her name on the advertising posters as “Champion Markswoman.” Butler happily accepted the position as her manager and assistant. Oakley and Butler prospered with the Wild West and remained with the show for sixteen years.

In 1887, Buffalo Bill’s Wild West toured England to join in the Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria. When the show opened that May, Oakley was the subject of considerable press due to her shooting skills and presence. This tour also helped Oakley increase her growing collection of shooting medals, awards, and trophies.

When the Wild West returned to Europe in 1889, Oakley had become a seasoned performer and earned star billing. The troupe stayed in Paris for a six-month exhibition, and then travelled to other regions of France, Italy, and Spain. Oakley proved especially popular with women, and Buffalo Bill made the most of her fame to demonstrate that shooting was neither detrimental, nor too intense for women and children.

Oakley and Butler’s desire for less extensive traveling, as well as a serious train accident that injured her back, caused them to leave the show in 1901. However, she continued to perform and eventually joined another wild west show, “The Young Buffalo Show,” in 1911. During this period, Butler signed a contract as a representative for the Union Metallic Cartridge Company in Connecticut. This was a position that allowed both Butler and Oakley to make endorsements for the company and to continue their shooting exhibitions. Finally, in 1913, the couple retired from the arena and settled down in Cambridge, Maryland.

While in Cambridge, the Butlers welcomed a new member into their family, their dog Dave. Named for a friend, Dave Montgomery of the comedy team of Montgomery and Stone, Dave was to be a constant companion to the Butlers. When they returned to the arena, Dave was to become an important part of the act—one trick was Annie shooting an apple from the top of Dave’s head. In 1917, they moved to Pinehurst, North Carolina. That same year, Buffalo Bill Cody died. Annie Oakley wrote a touching eulogy for Cody, and the passing of a golden era.

The United States was pulled into World War I in 1917, and Oakley offered to raise a regiment of woman volunteers to fight in the war. She had made the same offer during the Spanish-American War; neither time was it accepted. She also volunteered to teach marksmanship to the troops. Oakley gave her time to the National War Council of the Young Men’s Christian Association, War Camp Community Service, and the Red Cross. Dave became the “Red Cross Dog” by sniffing out donations of cash hidden in handkerchiefs.

Oakley began making plans for a comeback in 1922. Attracting large crowds in Massachusetts, New York, and major cities, she had plans to star in a motion picture. Unfortunately, at the end of the year, she and Butler were severely injured in an automobile accident. It took Oakley more than a year to recover from her injuries. By 1924, she was performing again, but her recovery did not last long. By 1925, she was frail and in poor health. She and Butler moved to her hometown in Ohio to be near her family. They attended shooting matches in the local area, and Oakley began to write her memoirs, which were published in newspapers across the country.

In 1926, after fifty happy years of marriage, the Butlers died. Annie Oakley died on November 3 and Frank Butler died November 21, within three weeks of each other. Both died of natural causes after a long and adventuresome life.

From her humble roots as Phoebe Ann Moses to taking center stage as Annie Oakley—champion shooter and star of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West—this remarkable woman is remembered as a western folk hero, American legend, and icon. Throughout her career, Oakley maintained her dignity and propriety while quietly proving that she was superior to most men on the shooting range. Thanks to Hollywood and history, the legend of Annie Oakley endures into the twenty-first century through motion pictures, television, on the stage, in history books, and in museums."

I am guessing (and hoping) that's Dave in the photograph.

Monday, March 5, 2018

Busy busy


Mon., December 9, 1935 - Nuss at the house when I got home and told me Mettlen was having a party.  I went to the party tonite.  Lydia K., Gladys R., Schindler, Leffler, Nuss, Ethel L. and Garwood there.  We played different card games.
Tues., December 10, 1935 - Went to bed early tonite to prepare for the rest of this going-to-be-sleepless-week.
Wed., December 11, 1935 - Grandad is 83 years old.  Ola, Annie, kids, and Edwin here for supper.  After supper Edwin, Florence, Helen, Howard and I went to the play at Hoskins.  District 86 gave the play "Here Comes Charlie".  Martha Utecht sponsored it.  Harry H., Willard and Fritz Maas, Hazel and Gilbert Jochens were in it.  It was good.

Here's what I found out about the play:

"This is a farce that poked fun of the St. Louis upper-class society.  It concerns a wealthy St. Louis family, whose matriarch (an elderly widow) plans to take over the household of her nephew. All is going as planned until the arrival of Charlie, the ward of said nephew. Long story short, Charlie, is a girl, not a boy. And this provides a most unexpected surprise and the material on which this Three-Act Farce is based."

It sounds good to me, too.

Ola turned 83 in 1935 and thankfully, he had quite a few birthdays yet to celebrate being one of many in our family living to ripe old ages.

Friday, March 2, 2018

Drama over and a silver lining


Thurs., December 5, 1935 - Robert came this morning for his things.  He's going to town school.  Now I don't have an 8th grader to worry about at exam time.  Went to Helen's program tonite with Ray and Emma D.  Howard brought me home.  Helen had a good crowd considering the foggy night.
Fri., December 6, 1935 - Ray took me to the 2-mile corner this morning.  Tillie E. gave me a ride tonite.  I went to bed early.  Ray took some basketball boys to Norfolk tonite.  Edwin stayed tonite, roads too bad to go to Ola's.
Sat., December 7, 1935 - 
Sun., December 8, 1935 - Ray's day off.  Ola and Howard were here to have Ray help them fix on their cars.  Both here for dinner and Howard here for supper.

Nice how Uncle Ray worked on cars and his dad had a mechanic's shop.

Glad Grandma saw the silver lining to having a student transfer to town school.