Who is Ginger Makefield?

Yesterday morning, opening gifts, I received a flat square package from "Ginger Makefield." I rolled my eyes, knowing it was the same story every year.

So, what is this tradition and how did it start? 

When I was young, I liked to teach an imaginary class of dogs in the basement. It all started when I was writing random names in a Barbie notebook, imagining characters to go with them which eventually became a list of people who could be characters. I started to see it as a list of class students, pretending to make phone calls to confirm enrollment. Eventually I even got a pretend school kit, complete with a chalkboard, desk labels, attendance charts, reward jar, and much more. It was a blast. We had story time, geography with my huge book of maps, and every November I'd offer a choice of learning about families or farms. 

Eventually there was a whole list. Some of the dogs I remember were Golde (a favorite), Lober; a tall dark fellow, Abutisum (pronounced "Aaa-but-tie-some''; imagine a cross between Abu from Aladdin and an Afghan hound), Russell, Phona...and others I no longer remember. What a bummer for teachers to forget so many of their students. Shame on me!

But they were real to me, and we had fun.

One more name I remember is Ginger Makefield. Ginger didn't show up a LOT, but she was there for a while. I want to think she was fun and spunky. The name "Makefield" came, I think, from the name of the neighborhood of a family friend. 

I'm writing this story and it's occurring to me that I don't know why she always gave me a calendar. I think it was because I always liked the page-a-day ones, usually with dog photos on them. I kept one on my desk a lot as a child. 

Also what my mom did was to make gifts "from" certain people on the gift tags, real or fictional. They could be anything from "Hermey the Elf" to one of our dogs or cats. Ginger was obviously someone I mentioned quite a bit, because she "gave" me a gift one year. I guess it was the dog calendar, being a dog.

And somehow it stuck. Ginger continued to give me calendars. From 365 Dogs to Wheel of Fortune, she always came though. When I got tired of the page-a-days, she might give me something else. Perhaps something with dogs. These days, she's been giving me wall calendars. 

Though I haven't taught dog class in 21 years, Ginger still shows up in spirit every Christmas, this time giving me more useful wall calendars. Even this year...when the calendar featured a cat!  

Thanks Ginger. Merry Christmas.

R.I.P. Halloween (1994-2024)

 I am very, very late with this one but didn't want to wait another year!

This year, we finally had no trick-or-treaters. I went over to my parents' house to help hand out candy, as I've done. Since the dogs would go berserk, we usually do this by sitting on the end of their driveway and placing the candy on a table. (Now that I think about it, this may have started with the pandemic as they couldn't get too close). 

As a kid, our 30-house neighborhood had flourished on the evening of October 31. But since I got to college, the kids got older and the population dwindled. When I called home during freshman year of college, Dad said they got about 50 trick-or-treaters. That number continued to dwindle. Last year we got maybe twelve. This year, we got none at all. 

Looking down the street, so many houses were dark. Now that kids obviously weren't coming, people obviously stopped trying to be ready. Almost nobody was decorated.

That's not to say that it's dead entirely---everyone goes into the center of town where houses are many and close together these days. 

First was choosing the costume very early, in July or August. Did anyone else pick them in a catalogue? I often did. I wanted to be a "candy corn witch" for ages, but it always seemed sold out. 

Now during the school day: The air crackled with excited atmosphere as the halls were filled with pirates, the guy from Scream, princesses, and superheroes. We all gathered in the gym for a Halloween "parade," where we'd line up by grade and tell the crowd who we were. The first year I did this in kindergarten, I was Cinderella and croaked out the name of my costume (my voice gave out for a second). We were then shepherded to a retirement community shortly down the way. (Again, in kindergarten I had no clue about this and had no idea why we were in a pink lobby that smelled of skunk outside.) There, we'd parade for the residents. In the afternoon, it was party time! I often wore my costume the entire day.

Then it was time for a quick dinner (think a can of Chef Boyardee) and the fun would begin. The air always smelled differently that night---spooky and sweet. Also a little bit awkward at first, but I got over it. For a few years, we lived in a BIG neighborhood before moving to the aforementioned one. Here are a few houses to remember:

*The Dempsters, our next-door neighbors in the first place and whose daughter I thought was the coolest, always put a few goodies in decorated treat bags. Oh, what fun! Like unwrapping a present later.

*Popcorn ball house, which always gave out...well, popcorn balls obviously.

*Sheepdog Guy's house. He always was seen walking his sheepdogs without a leash. His wife always hung up a "wishing witch" where we'd do just that before getting our candy.

*Mrs. Miller used the old-time tradition: we had to tell a joke or share something that happened at school to get a candy. She liked me and sometimes told me to take two. My sister and her best friend were furious! (It more than evened out; all my friends lived too far away to trick or treat with, so I at least had this!)

 

And then it was back home to enjoy our loot and fish out any bubble gum that we'd give to Dad. Then maybe the Great Pumpkin, and bedtime. Sometimes, if we listened, we could still hear a few trick-or-treaters, and smell the sweet, candy-like night air...before going back to the regular homework and worksheets tomorrow. 

College had a fun tradition too---local kids came through the halls. Man oh man was that a blast! And we got many kids---about 600. I ran out of candy in a half hour the first year. But picking out candy and dressing up finally made me feel like it was Halloween again, especially when one little kid wanted to take a photo of me in my neon witch costume. (He'd be a teenager now. Goodness gumdrops.)

Complete list of Halloween costumes:

*Thomas the Tank Engine (don't remember this but there exists a photo)

*Marie the Aristocat

*A Dalmatian

*Cinderella

*Tinker Bell

*Fifties' poodle skirt girl (a few times)

*Medieval princess (I thought I looked glamorous but then one girl outshined everyone by dressing as a lobster in a fully decorated cardboard fish tank) 

*Regular pink princess

*Witch (regular black with hat that refused to stand up, and a neon costume later)

*Minnie Mouse

*Formal apology (gaudy dress with "I'm Sorry" sash)

*Flapper

*Butterfly princess 

*Wicked fairy where I teased my hair out in ponytails and wore black lipstick 

*And my work costumes: the Philly Phanatic, Cookie Monster, and a black cat (in 2024)! 

The world of shoe shopping

 I'm embarrassed to admit (ok, I'm not embarrassed to admit, and nobody should be) that I've been on a Mister Rogers kick lately. His show is just the thing one needs at the end of the day. Today, he visited a shoe store and it got me thinking about shoe shopping, too.

We went to a local shoe store called Arnold's. The mascot was a droopy looking Bassett hound, who could be seen in the window. I wonder if they sold doggy merch, too, but I can't recall. I remember being excited to see one girl I rode the bus with and her family there, once/ When I was young, I always had my feet measured by a sales associate. I think they did away with these by the time I was a teenager. Anyway, my dad had experience working in my grandpa's shoe store as a teenager, so he could measure feet as good as anyone. 

It always smelled good. Not Home Depot good, but new leather good. I mostly bought sneakers as a kid, and after I tried them on I was always made to walk up and down the store in them to make sure they fit. One of my favorite pairs of shoes when I was young was a largely blue pair with some gray trim and pink laces. While the shoes that lit up were always fascinating, I never got one (though I did have some snow boots at one point that lit up on the heel). And I never bought Heelys. Did anyone wear those? The shoes you could "skate" in were popular at my sister's school at one point. 

If I wanted a nice pair of flats, I'd often go to the mall with my grandparents for those. Macy's always had good selection, and we had good luck in finding pairs that fit. We sometimes had less luck trying to get the disposable socks on (you know the ones). 

Interestingly, my grandparents used to own a shoe store themselves. Called The Athlete's Foot, it was in a local shopping center. It seemed like a strange thing for them to do (I can't see my grandma owning a shoe store), but my dad and grandpa talked about it all the time. Grandma says they never turned a profit. Still, it was my dad's summer job for a few years. Even today, he'll go with me shoe shopping to make sure the shoes fit right! 

Then we got them packed up to bring home and eventually start wearing to school. You never wanted the shiny white shoes to get dirty, but it would always happen. Sometimes there were lollipops. Best of all, and Mister Rogers mentioned this too, was that you could do so many things with the shoe box. We made stages for our electronic Micro-Pets to perform on, among other things.

Arnold's no longer exists. Today I frequent chains such as Kohl's or Famous Footwear, or, if I get a coupon in the mail, DSW. I don't matter what traditions are involved; shoe shopping is never my favorite. The best part is just getting the shoes in the end, and that's what matters! 

What is summer?

How do I explain summer growing up? One simply does not one pick one definition.

Summer was my sister's best friend from down the street coming over and making hundreds of Miis. It was also the two of them making agility courses for the dog made of pillows.

Summer was golf tournaments on in the background. It was afternoons watching Spongebob and making fun of the infomercials in between, tearing them apart and figuring out reasons why they wouldn't work while also enjoying the satisfying imagery. It was also secretly enjoying the wholesome antics of Toucan Sam, Apple and Cinnamon, and the Charmin bears in between episodes.

But in our old house, summer was Domino's Pizza on the brick patio, with a knife and fork, and chicken kickers in blue cheese sauce. It was visiting our grandparents' old house, playing "going to the moon" on the blue swing that hung from the tree. Summer was the big pink balls, one for each of us, that we rolled around. It was sitting on the glider on the screened-in porch while playing with Grandma's robin eggs that sat in their little nest. It was gazing at the lazy-L-shaped pool next door wanting a pool of my own.

When we inherited the glider, soon summer nights became nights for sitting out and playing Super Mario Brothers 3 for the Game Boy Advance with my sister and cracking up as he died and cried, "Oh, mamma mia!" It became catching lightning bugs and bringing them inside. Summer nights were bringing them inside which we ate grape and cherry Popsicles with punch lines on the end of the stick. Early summer nights were my sister not being able to read her punch line and her simply saying: "Go bus."

If the weather was good, summer was going our to own pool too and, if you were lucky, getting ice cream from the snack bar. It was saying hi to the grandmother who scanned our badges on the way in. If you were lucky, it meant buying an ice cream bar. If the weather was bad, summer was typing out stories on the basement computer in Word.

Summer was a week spent on the Jersey Shore---not Atlantic City or Cape May, but Manasquan and Point Pleasant. It was soft sand and salty smelling waves with high tides that chased beachgoers and their towels. It was fireworks on Thursday night and digging holes in the sandy yard of our beachfront rental. It was riding the "fish ride" and playing skee ball on the boardwalk, then hitting up the fireman's carnival at the park. It was pinball and Spider Stompin' at the arcade.

Summer was camp. Usually a creative writing program, but for about six years it was also a program on a high school campus. We were the guinea pigs of the program, three friends and I, getting to choose our own activities a few times a day; nature walks, newspaper writing, and outings to Color Me Mine.

Summer was exciting.

And then summer became dull. Sitting around doing nothing turned into back to school sales, fresh smelling piney pencils and notebook paper. Summer was organizing binders and sharpening pencils and calling parents to figure out who was in whose class this year and finding out via letter who your own teacher was.

Summer was over. And it was anticipated once again.

The magic of the supermarket

Everything was so magical as kids. And just one of those everyday things that was full of wonder and awe was the grocery store. 

There was so much to see. Rubber balls in display racks if it was summer. We used to be able to see live lobsters in tanks depending on where the store was. (Anyone remember them?) Those little balloons on sticks--they didn't even float. Even the food was fun to look at. I evidently called pickles "peekles." I liked the aisles full of milk and how creamy it looked like it tasted. It was always a great thrill when you wandered through the produce aisle at the same time it was being watered. 

What was your pick from the candy at the aisles? I think my dad bought me a pack of Chicklets gum once---the actual name is escaping me. They were in a yellow packet. But it was truly a treat when I got to pick up a Wonder Ball and see what character's face appeared on Sweet Tarts inside. 

But the real treat also happened at check out. I always got a sticker from the cashier at the end. I would place them under "my" window in my dad's Volvo. I had quite an impressive collection. When it wasn't raining and I was watching raindrops "race" down the window to see which one "won," I studied my stickers. Of course I don't remember what was on any of them. Do they still do this? 

And if we didn't go to the store that week, there was always the joy of watching Mom get home on weekend mornings. After she put everything on the counter, we would get to see what she bought that week.

I wish regular life was as magical as it was then! Wouldn't that make everything better? 

School libraries

Forgive the capitalization here! My l key isn't working so well and having to copy and paste every time is tedious. Sticking to lowercase for now. 

I was recently looking through one of my old favorite school library books on the internet archives. It was called Guide to Owning a Poodle. The pages were super glossy and of course, featured pretty pictures of poodles! Back then, while I found many interesting library books, I mainly stuck to reading them on bus rides home. If library day was also pretzel day, I would often read the book on the bus with a soft pretzel in hand.

I have many memories of my school library. The top floor housed the bookshelves and some computer cubbies; the bottom floor was a computer lab and group work rooms. (In fifth grade two of the boys liked rummaging through the drawers for junk in one of those rooms as we worked to complete a power point presentation.) Maybe it's why it's such a prominent location in my dreams. I remember watching a Hallmark version of Alice in Wonderland during library time. Maybe that's also why my dream world reminds me so much of Alice (in addition to the dark color palette)...funny the things you remember!

In elementary days, the library "teacher" had an odd rule of sitting in a circle, boy girl boy girl. She'd read an often boring book, then we were free to browse...unless it was the first day, in which we'd decorate our card stock library cards. My best friend and I would often race to books about math games and take turns reading from them. Those books taught us about the magic of writing words on calculators!

Other books I liked in the library: Wacky Wednesday (a Dr. Seuss style picture book); American Girl books (my first was Kirsten but I discovered the worlds of Molly and Samantha through the school library); a book called The TV Kid, remembered for its scenes of the kid getting bit by a snake; one called Draw where I copied instructions on a tiny notepad and actually made 3D art successfully; and others I can't recall. Said BFF would check out a book called How to Beat Your Dad at Chess. I think sometimes it worked! 

Althought I went to a K-8 school, library time ended after fifth grade. library time was now time for study hall, gossip, and looking at our crushes' homes on Google Maps. Good times, but different times. Today I spend lots of time at my local library. The books aren't quite the same, but I have discovered many good ones. 

long live libraries! 

Grandparents part 1: The old days

This year marks a turning point in that my grandparents really aren't able to go out anymore. After thirty years of going out to eat, shopping, mini golf, and sleepovers, 2024 brings a new page. As we begin a new chapter, I'm choosing to look back and write things down!

So their first house was in a neighborhood about half an hour from us in our hometown in PA. I still dream of this neighborhood a lot; in particular the lazy-L shaped pool next door. I really wanted that pool...

It was ugly-charming, is my way to describe it! It was what the real estate sites called a Dutch Colonial. We always entered though the side door in the laundry room. Grandma had this vintage sign up of a laundry lady. I can't find this sign today. I don't remember what was written on it or what brand it was for, but I do remember a black and white lady with small eyes, a smile, and a kerchief in her hair. (If anyone can locate this sign, or an image of it, I will send you one million brownie points!) It smelled like Dove soap and Downy fabric softener, which permeated the house. 

We'd then enter a small kitchen (counters to the left, table to the right) before going into the living room. This was also fairly small. The wall facing us, coming in, featured a brick fireplace that covered the entire wall. The hallway was perfect for playing "ice skating," which Grandma and I loved to do. She would narrate and then, after the show (aka when we arrived at the stairs or in the kitchen), the crowd would "go wild!" Meanwhile, a small powder room was perfect for playing with water toys with Grandpa. Sometimes I would even incorporate fake pink flowers. I don't remember where they came from. 

Their house was dark; the room my sister slept in had either black or very dark blue walls. But my bedroom was sunny---it had yellow walls and a blue/white bedspread (Grandma's signature colors). We'd have tea parties for the teddy bears there by making tea cakes out of Play Doh. My favorite of these was I Love You Bear, named because of the words on her shirt. In the closet there were other treasures---the knockoff barbies we'd play spelling bees with, the toy animals (they were mother-baby sets), and a mysterious box of squishy rubber figurines that my dad used to play with. They looked creepy but they did feel good! 

Leaving had a routine of its own: we'd all have a big group hug. Before that, though, we were always invited to pick something out of the candy drawer. Grandma would then send us off with a pack of Kleenex, and she would pretend to follow us home as we pulled out of the driveway. 

The next owners sold the house a few years ago. While they lightened up a little, it looked largely the same...but I could recognize a hotel room I used to dream of frequently as the old master bedroom with floral walls. I was especially amused to see a parrot in the kitchen. No way Grandma would go for that!