It's time for costumes, dress-up, let's pretend, and scary, spooky stories. And who doesn't like Halloween?  If the projects in the Oct 09 issue of The BuzzLetter are not enough to get you into the mood for Halloween try these creepy books. They're suitable for ages 9-12.

Well, that lasted for several days, but soon my grandson got tired of "being treated like a baby". He and his mom had a "discussion" about it. Neither would give in. Mom's position: It's for your safety. Son's position: I'm a big boy now! Dad stayed out of it. The next day when it came time to head back home from the city here are the text messages his anxious Mom received:

That's all. Just those two one-word messages. My grandson grew a foot taller that summer! Mom found a gray hair she didn't have before. Dad just smiled. So did KidsGranny when she heard about it. Hmm. Does this qualify as Coming of Age through responsibility, loosening the apron strings, or both? ^.^

Try it! See if your kids can create new ways of playing video games in their own backyard. Getting the kids involved in outdoor activities is a good thing!

 

We always started the day with the tour of the Heritage homes and gardens; then off to the marketplace and quaint little shops. A huge kettle was in the middle of the main cross street where apple butter was being stirred. We bought jars of it to take home.

Since those days of yesteryear the town of Waterford has received the distinction of being designated a Historic Town. If you're ever in Northern Virginia in early Fall, go to the Waterford Fair. They have planned activities for the kids, too. It'll be an experience you and they will never forget.

And finally, here's something for a real life fantasy page
When I was 9, and my sister was 8, we loved to go play at a small clearing by a little stream in the woods on our property. We'd break off a fresh limb to clear away dead leaves and twigs and declare it as our territory. I was Wonder Woman! She was the victim and I used to swing across the stream on a vine that was hanging from a tall tree to protect or rescue her from the wild animals. (We never saw anything wilder than a squirrel or rabbit.) We'd celebrate by eating our packed lunch while telling stories before returning to the real world. Such was fantasy in our wondrous little world!

How did you spend your summer vacations when you were a child? Leave a comment, short or long, and tell us how you had fun. And what was or would be your fantasy vacation?

We gathered eggs from the henhouse
The cats and dogs got leftovers from the table - probably because there was no refrigeration as we know it today.

We had a real ice box that held a big block of ice to keep food cold (cool would be more like it). It was used mostly to keep crocks of fresh milk and prepared foods cool until meal time. We made our own butter, taking turns churning it. I ate the butter, but couldn't bring myself to drink that fresh milk. And I never learned to milk a cow; tried … couldn't get the hang of it. (No pun intended. I'll just stop there with that train of thought. ^.^)

Second: We tended to the gardening
Chores also meant weeding or picking fruits and vegetables as they came in season. We hated weeding. We didn't mind picking strawberries until our backs got tired. Blackberries were a stand-up chore. We gathered the fallen peaches and early apples and picked the ripening ones from the trees. The grown-ups made the pies (must have been about 10 of them) for the week and kept them in the cool parlor on a table covered with a linen cloth.

We grabbed grapes from the vines as we ran by and ate tomatoes fresh off the vine without washing them (we rubbed the dust off on our clothes) … hoping we wouldn't get caught eating the pickings or soiling our clothes.

Playtime meant hiding in the hayloft, seeing who could jump from the highest rung of the ladder, swinging from the big oak tree in the front yard, swimming in a creek that meant crossing a field with that ornery bull in it. (I used to have nightmares of that bull chasing me, but always awakened before he caught up with me.) The horses were "working" horses not riding horses. We'd chase the chickens and tease the pigs just to hear them squeal until we got caught doing it.

  

We used to play farm … really! The boys would make the toys from leftover wood scraps – the house, barn, sheds, tractors, fences, trucks, and animals. (While the boys were making the toys, the girls were helping in the kitchen.) When all was ready, we'd go to the shade of the cigar tree and scrape out an area in the ground to plot out the farm – making changes as we went along.

The big events were the holidays (4th of July), when we had company, or when neighbors came to help with a harvest (although we were already back in school at harvest time). There was a huge spread of food including smoked or canned meats.

The biggest treat for us was making our own ice cream. Have you ever had vanilla ice cream with grape nuts in it? Yum. Just as the cream mixture begins to harden add one cup of grape nuts to each gallon of creamy mixture (if you do it too soon the grape nuts soften). Finish the churning to mix, harden, and then serve.

 

While it was still light we'd have a watermelon seed spittin' contest. As it got dark we'd punch holes in the lids of old jars and catch lightning bugs (aka fireflies) and let them go when we got tired of that game.

Then we'd lie on the cool grass and look for the Big and Little Dipper among the  stars. Sometimes we'd just sit on the porch swing and talk about tomorrow. Playtime on a farm in those days was free-style - sort of like recess used to be in schools.  Playtime was not structured as it is today with league sports and online games. We made up our own games and rules and had fun doing it.

But it wasn't all feast and fun. The chores always came first. That'll be the next blog entry - slopping the pigs, milking the cows, and more.

 

 

I remember with such fond memories when my sister and I were little kids and we spent the summers on a farm during summer vacations in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia … windows wide open, curtains blowing in the breeze, screen doors banging, flypaper hanging over the dining room table, and the utensils upright in a pewter pitcher on the table - handy so you could take what you needed for the meal. There was no air-conditioning in those days, only roll-up blinds pulled down in the parlor to keep it cool in case company came to visit.

We all slept on feather beds - kids, parents and grand-parents. There was electricity – a bulb in the ceiling of each room; oil lamps if you wanted to read. There was no indoor plumbing so you can guess what was under the bed. If nature called in a "big" way, that kid had to empty the jar in the morning. As kids, the "outdoor plumbing" was a novelty. A bench with two holes (known as a "two holer") and a sears catalog draped over a wooden bar. Is this too much detail? ^.^

We (and the other kids) ran barefoot on the cool green grass and sought relief in it from the rocks and stones we walked on.  After the bottoms of our feet toughened up, there was practically nothing that could stop us. Yes, there were occasional cuts and nail punctures sometimes requiring a trip to see the town doctor; however, I don't remember him ever having to come to the house to give us treatment of any kind. There were many home remedies.

We had our Saturday evening bath in the huge tin laundry tub and rinsed our hair with the help of a pitcher similar to what Robert Redford did for Meryl Streep in the movie Out of Africa (only we were way too young for any romantic ideas, but the water still felt good pouring through our hair).
 

Memorial Day Weekend is generally considered the beginning of summer vacation time when school is out or soon will be. It's when we kick-off our shoes, go barefooted, wear shorts or shorten our skirts and head for the campgrounds, fishing ponds and beaches. That's the fun part on which to build memories.

There are other memories, too; sad thoughts as we remember those no longer with us, for one reason or anther. So we pull up our boot straps and steel ourselves with the resolve that life must go on ... just as they would want us to "get on with it."

The original memorial observances began when returning soldiers and families decorated gravesites of Civil War casualties. Later it was known as Decoration Day and May 30 became the official date of commemoration. It was expanded after World War I to include American casualties of any war or military action and known as Memorial Day. Now we honor those casualties on the last Monday in May.

A Parable of Immortality

"I am standing here upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the
morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength,
and I stand and watch until at last she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, ‘There she goes!’

"Gone where? Gone from my sight – that is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar
  as when she left my side and just as able
to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, ‘There she goes!’
there are other eyes watching her coming and
other voices ready to take up the glad shout, 'Here she comes!'"