Throwback Thursday: Girl Riding a "Horse" Leg

From my "old and known" file:

Little girl—"What do you mean this isn’t a real horse?"

That's my caption. What's yours? Leave it in the comments below.

Memory Monday: Father's Day

My Son-in-Law and Granddaughter

FATHER’S DAY

I love the months of May and June because I love Mother’s Day and Father’s Day! I love the family get-togethers and dinners. And I love the presents, especially since I’m the mother now. What can I say—I love getting presents. But more than the presents (well, kinda), it is wonderful to see the next generation getting to share in the celebration—not as children honoring their parents, but as the ones being honored for the role they have taken on as parents. There is no way a child can understand the responsibilities (and worry, fear, joy, and hopes) of a mother or father until he or she becomes one. And only parents who see their children become parents can appreciate what their children are going through as they raise another generation (even though, the grandparents may wonder sometimes about what their children are thinking or doing).

This year is special with my granddaughter here now. I was privileged to share Mother’s Day with my daughter. In the same way, my husband will share Father’s Day with our son-in-law next week.

I want to say something to my father and father-in-law who have already passed on (as well as all the greats and grandfathers who came before them) as well as to my husband and son-in-law (and all those fathers who come after us): Thank you for the care you took to provide for your children, the examples you set, and the love you poured out on your families.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!!!

Memory Monday: Toy Trucks - Now and Then

My granddaughter and the truck her granddaddy played with as a boy

TOY TRUCKS—NOW AND THEN

I remember my father-in-law talking about the blue glass bottle that he pushed for “miles” as a kid. He pretended that bottle was a truck and he had a lot of fun playing with it. When my husband was a boy, his parents got him several metal trucks—several of which we still have today.
When our children were small, our town was known for its garage sales and I found the “wonder” of shopping at them. I bought (well, maybe over-bought might be a better way of describing it) Fisher-Price little people with all sorts of accessories, like trucks. By the time my children were old enough to stop playing with them, I had a 55-gallon trash bag full of them. Needless to say, my two little ones didn’t care to play with my husband’s metal trucks, so they stayed boxed up for another twenty-five years. Today, my husband is in his late sixties and those trucks have been stored away for well over a half-a-century. They might have stayed that way, except I created my library with a place for future grandchildren to play. I cleaned up those old trucks and put them in the room.
The other day when my precious two-year-old granddaughter came over to play, I pulled out a bag of small finger puppets. She asked for the cow and bunny, then took off. The next thing I knew, she was hauling in one of the old metal trucks into the living room where we were sitting. To be truthful about the matter, I had forgotten about the truck since it was wa-a-ay under a buffet I had in my library. She immediately worked the finger puppets into the seats of the truck and started pushing it—squeaky wheels and all. My husband quickly sprayed the wheels with WD40 and she continued to play with it.
She has been over a couple of times since then and has played with the truck (and finger puppet passengers) over and over.  Funny thing about the finger puppets, she will only use the cow and bunny, trading them out as driver and passenger. And I have over twenty other finger puppets, including “people” ones, but she won’t put any of them in the truck. I really wish I could see into her mind and learn why she does it that way.
Oh well, at least after more than that half-a-century I talked about a moment ago, the wonderful old trucks are being played with again, they will probably last until the next generation, and maybe the next.

Memory Monday: My Father-in-Law

My father-in-law acting silly

MY FATHER-IN-LAW

As Father’s Day approaches, I want to honor a very special man who was in my life too short a time—my father-in-law. He was a wonderful man who loved his wife and son. They only had one child because after she gave birth to their son, the doctor told them that any future births would have to be by C-section because my mother-in-law was too small to go through that again. When he heard that, he said they wouldn’t have any more because he didn’t want her to have that surgery (you have to remember this was in the 1940s). She told my father-in-law that she wanted to give him a daughter. He hugged her and said that when their son married, they would have their daughter. I became that daughter, even before my husband and I married.

After my mother-in-law passed away with cancer, he moved closer to us. Shortly after that, I changed from calling by his first name to “Dad.” (I had always called my father “Daddy” so it just seemed right.) Through the years, we shared a lot of great times together. I learned to sit on his left side when we played the game of 42, or he would outbid me just for the sake of outbidding me which he knew would cause me to give him one of “those” looks. We also had a number of contests concerning losing weight—and he won all of those. I think his secret to winning was what my mother-in-law prepared his meals while I had to do all the cooking at my house (and we all know that the cook has to “taste” everything before sitting down to dinner). One of my sweetest memories was when they would come to visit and he would get out my guitar (which I never learned to play, but he did), tune it up, and play while I sang with my mother-in-law.

But, I think the most wonderful thing about my father-in-law was how he took on the role of grandfather to our two children. His love for them was so deep and sure and constant. I just wished that he had lived long enough to see them reach adulthood, to see how they are living and loving, working and having fun. He was always so proud of them.

And with my granddaughter here now, I know that I will be better grandparent because of the example he was. Thank you, DAD.