In honor of Gman's birthday today I will follow his lead in a manner and do a Retro Wednesday post. I don't have paraphernalia but I do have memories.Who among you remembers when shopping was a main street adventure rather than a mall experience? Maybe you grew up in a town with a vibrant downtown. Maybe you were like me and grew up in a smaller place and traveled to town for shopping on High Street. The town we went to was 7 miles away and it was always an event when we drive in, partly because of the the excitement of going to town, partly because we had so many relatives connected to downtown. Of course, in December there was the added fun of seeing all the decorations and visiting Santa's shack.
Often the adventure would start when we arrived in town and went to the newspaper offices to visit
Nana, who was telephone switchboard operator there. First of all, it was a thrill to think we could stride right into the offices at such an important place and be ushered around to the desks of so many people to say hello. Second, it was always nice to be greeted excitedly by Nana. There was never a time she didn't squeal with delight to see us. I was also always amazed and impressed by what she did behind her switchboard. It was a huge wall filled with plugs that she'd pull out and push into different spots in order to connect callers to the person they wanted to talk to. She'd be taking calls through her headset and her hands would fly across the board even as she continued to talk to us in between. Between her ability to know where each plug had to go, doing it quickly, keeping up a conversation with us, and knowing how she could whip through a crossword puzzle, the Jumble puzzle, and the Cryptoquip in the paper each day I was sure she was some special kind of genius. On our way out Nana might give us a piece of candy from a bowl on her desk or maybe give my brother and me a little money to spend on a treat when we shopped with Mom.
From the newspaper offices we'd walk the two blocks to where the big action was, High Street. High Street was always an amazing sight to me. Our town's main street was short and narrow, just wide enough for two lanes of traffic and no parking. We had only recently gotten a traffic light at the second end of it. I could easily walk from one end to the other. High Street was longer than I'd want to think of walking as a child and it was wide enough for 3 lanes of cars with parking on both sides. All sorts of stores and shops lines both sides of the street. At one end was the diner. At the other was the library and hospital. My little town had no library or hospital. High Street had to be special to be so big and have so many important sorts of buildings and businesses on it.
Our next stop would be to
Mr. Reuben's store where my other grandmother, Mom-mom, worked. It was a small women's clothier. Whether it was Mr. Reuben or Mom-mom who saw us first we'd be greeted warmly. Mom-mom would beam proudly while Mr. Reuben remarked about how my brother and I had grown and ask us how we were doing in school. He always seemed as happy to see us as our grandmother was. Mom-mom would introduce us proudly to anyone else in the shop she knew. Since she had worked in the same shop for 30 years she knew quite a few people. We'd be gathered up in hugs and kisses before heading back onto the street.
A trip to High Street almost always meant a stop at the New York Store. This was a local department store with three whole floors! Now you have to understand to a kid from the country a store that big was most impressive. There was a Sears on High street that was newer and had a bigger floor but even in the Sears customers never left the ground floor. At the New York Store we could explore the ground floor or go down the creaky wooden stairs to the basement or climb to the second floor. The New York Store seemed to have all sorts of things you couldn't find in other places and all sorts of interesting nooks and crannies to explore. Mom would pay for whatever purchases she had there. By then we'd be begging to go to Town Toy.
If the New York Store was impressive for its wide array of wares Town Toy was kid heaven simply because it was the only place I had ever been that was entirely devoted to toys. I couldn't imagine so many toys and here were piles and piles of them all under one roof. Mom usually made us endure whatever other shopping had to be done before we were allowed to enjoy this particularly favored destination.
We didn't get to High Street often so when we did there was usually a visit to the shoe store in order. How many pairs of Buster Browns did we go through in our childhood? I was especially hard on my shoes because my favorite playground apparatus was the swings. When I needed to stop I'd drag my toes in the dirt on each downswing to slow myself. I went through the toes of shoes so fast my mother threatened to buy me steel-toed shoes. I do recall Mom walking me past the work boots on one trip and asking me if that's what I really wanted to wear instead of my pretty shoes. The salesman would measure my feet and bring out boxes of shoes to try on, carefully preparing them before sliding them gently on my feet and squeezing the sides or pinching the toes to see if my foot rested in them properly. I liked the
Brannock device. It fascinated me that someone could use this funny metal thing so deftly to know what size shoe I should wear.
After seeing our grandmothers and walking through the New York Store, the shoe store and Town Toy my brother and I were getting tired but there were more places to go and things to see. Fortunately, there was a bus service in town. This was more evidence to me that we were in a big, important place. No buses ran in my little town. My Uncle Duke drove buses for the city so Mom would find his line and we'd take a ride on "Uncle Duke's bus," as if he personally owned it. We always hoped there were seats near the front so we could sit right behind him and watch him closely. It was very impressive that he could maneuver this huge vehicle all around the streets and know where to go. I was sure I'd get lost or crash into something if I had to do his job. It felt good to rest on the bus before Uncle Duke dropped us near to our next destination, the library.
Aside from the toy store my other favorite place was the library. It was so big. I was just amazed that there were so many books in one place. Of course we had a library at school but this was just so much larger and had so many grown ups coming in and out. It had a lovely little children's section that was bigger than the one at school. It made me feel good to know that this building full of grown up books had a special place for kids. I liked that no one hurried me along too. During library day at school we only had so much time to pick a book before we had to line up and I'd always get lost in the stacks trying to decide what I wanted. At the library on High Street I wasn't being rushed. I could take out a bunch of books and look at them before getting more to look at and finally deciding what I wanted to take home. Oh bliss!
By now it was getting late and we had two more stops to make. We'd trudge back from the library and take a small break part of the way when we stopped at great-great Uncle Lloyd's general store. Uncle Lloyd was a tall, thin man with a long, lean, smiling face. The apron he wore at the store and the broom he carried to keep the worn wooden floors clean seemed to mirror his lankiness. He'd owned and run this little store for decades. He was a kind man and gave many a young person their first job. Unfortunately, by the time I was a child his business was waning quite a lot and he was sliding into senility. He was easily taken advantage of by the people he hired who began stealing from him. I prefer to remember his happy smile and the meticulously kept old fashioned store.
After visiting Uncle Lloyd we'd have renewed vigor as dusk was falling and the Christmas lights flickered on up and down High Street. We knew there was one last stop and this was the one we'd most been waiting for, the one we'd pestered Mom about since we'd arrived in town. Up ahead of the side of the main intersection was a red shack with a Christmas tree, a candy cane fence around it, and a tall red and white striped pole. Santa's Shack! We'd get in line for our turn to sit on Santa's lap and have our picture taken. The earlier visit to Town Toy had allowed my brother and me to refine our wish list. When it was finally our turn to go inside and see Santa we were ready. We'd each have our turn then both sit on his knees for the picture before being given a candy cane to take home.
Our trip to High Street was over and we'd head back to the car carrying the day's purchases, books from the library, and sucking our candy canes. During the drive home my mind would swirl with the images of switchboards, city buses, huge libraries and toy stores, creaky wooden floors, doting shop owners, a wide street, and Santa himself....perhaps a sugarplum fairy or two tiptoed in as well...but High Street was special enough when I was little.
Happy Retro Wednesday and Happy birthday,
Gman. What retro Christmas memories do the rest of you have?
*image from www.wpclipart.com
*image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/waterbum/1340597922/
It worked out well. Our helper likes measuring things but not mixing or cracking eggs. He measured, Isaac cracked eggs and washed up in between the 9 different doughs we made up, I mixed. They both helped me get cookies on trays and in and out of the oven. On Friday we got through baking 4 of the 9 doughs before everyone passed out for the night. Yesterday I finished baking 3 more doughs. So far I've done 66 dozen cookies. I sent my newest helper home with a big bag for himself and said it was up to him as to whether or not he shared them with anyone. When I sent him home with more on Sunday, he confided that he had hidden the others in his room. I told him his secret was safe with me.
*image from http://www.cis.rit.edu
This week we had our pellet stove installed.
You're going to get a little bit of everything today, a recipe, pictures, tie dye, Trinidad, limelets. As I mentioned, last week was Diana's birthday. In our house the birthday person gets to decided on the evening's menu. Both Diana and Calypso have picked roti as part of their birthday dinner every year. A couple of years ago I posted a recipe for my favorite type of roti (an East Indian flat bread) here. If you want the recipe go check that out. Today I am pretty much only going to describe the process. First a gratuitous Lil' Limelette picture. Aaawwww, so cute. That's proof that Diana has loved roti from the first taste. A friend in Trinidad had come over to teach me how to make it and Diana thieved a piece. Please also take note of the tie dye shorts she is wearing. To be honest I am shocked she is wearing clothes at all in this picture. She rarely kept them on at that age. This is another constant in her life. For her birthday she asked me to pick her up early from school so she could have a couple hours to romp around the house naked before her brother got home. Roti, tie dye, and nudity...the constants in our lives.
doing the meal alone I couldn't be frying up both things at the same time because I only have 2 hands (if you make roti with out help that's really all you can do at the time aside from occasionally giving a pot a stir) and that would 4 hands. She said she actually was willing to help me make the roti because she wanted to learn how to do it so when she is away at college and gets hungry for it she can make some. At that moment the angels sang, the clouds parted, the sun streamed down and I began to feel woozy from the shock of anyone volunteering to help in the kitchen. Once I recovered I expressed delight at the brilliance of such a notion. I instructed Diana in assembling the recipe and how to knead the dough. Once it's been properly kneaded it has to relax. It doesn't have yeast in it but it needs to sit around and contemplate it's state. Once the dough has navel gazed you have to form the loyah (balls) in a particular fashion that requires a little practice. Diana was at first confounded but she seemed to get the hang of it. After the loya are formed they have to rest and contemplate their place in the universe now that they've been broken off the larger mass of dough. Once the dough has 
Oh yeah, I forgot...you gotta have something to eat with the roti. Curried venison is very nice with roti. Even though Trinis think I am totally weird for combining creole food and Indian food I also like stewed chicken with my roti too. Diana stayed Indian and decided she wanted curried channa and aloo (that's spuds and chick peas [or little butts, as Diana calls them] to the rest of you). Ok, quick recipe...6 spuds, a can of chick peas (drained), an onion, 2 cloves of garlic, curry, and some oil. Heat the oil, saute the diced onions and garlic, toss in a bunch of curry and heat it all around before you toss in the chopped spuds and chick peas. Turn to low and cover until spuds are tender. Stir occasionally and make sure it's not cooking dry. You may need to add a little water now and then. I also made sure to use my Trini curry as opposed to Kenyan curry. When I pointed out the difference to Diana she remarked at how global our kitchen and the food we eat was...Kenyan curry, Trini food, Pennsylvania German food, Mexican quesadillas, etc, etc. I smiled that another lesson was not lost on her. That's all been intentional, kiddo.
The Golden Brown Beard would seem a normal sort of thing for the harried mother who needs a Halloween costume for her kid and wants it to be handmade without making it herself. However, Halloween is past. Also, take a look at the texture of the fake beard. I've never seen a man's beard grow in and look so much like fish scales but the description for the beard is what truly perplexes me.
Here is the Love Heart Fake Dog Poop Gift for when you care enough to shit the very best. The scary thing is, I know men who would think this would be a wonderful gift for the special woman in their lives. These are the kind of men who send Valentine's Day card where the punchline is a reference to dog genitalia. I swear if any of you hips Mr. Lime to this entry I will have to hurt you before I send him to the Doghouse (Thanks, Cooper, for that little gem of an idea.)
Apparently beer can hats did NOT die the death they should have way back in the 70s. They have come back with the new and exciting textured yarns and are now made of soda cans so they are age-appropriate across generations...or perhaps the inappropriateness can span the generations. Notice the festive holiday color theme of this Mountain Dew Hat with Fun Frills.
Next we have the Embroidered Phrenology Pin Cushion. It's kind of a voodoo/19th century pseudoscience meets fashion design piece that no deranged seamstress should be without.
Now we have something that really makes me wonder. The Voodoo Bottles themselves are wonderfully crafted pieces or art. It's the part of the description that says, "Each bottle has a mysterious thick liquid inside," that concerns me. I have visions of some sicko potter killing and dismembering some enemy. After sending the victim through the blender the psycho puts a little bit inside each of these bottles before mailing them off. Eeeeewwww.
Moving right along...How about something for the kiddies? Reindeer Snot! According to the seller it's a generous portion attractively packaged in an organza bag. (Anyone besides me gagging already as they consider the inability of organza to adequately contain snot?) Oh, it also comes with a poem. Won't the kids enjoy reaching into their stockings to find this!
