Try as I might, I can't remember any grade school trips. I have taken myself back through each grade, just sure that if I ponder long enough, I will surely remember one or two field trips. But, I really just don't. I actually work with a woman who was in my grade school and high school class. I polled her to see if she had any memory of any trips, and no, not a one. I guess our school just didn't sponsor any trips away from school grounds.
I attended Catholic grade school and high school. While we had more lay teachers than nuns in high school, the ratio of nuns to lay teachers in grade school certainly tipped the scale toward the nuns. I remember picture day, science fairs, math bees, spelling bees, and book reading contests, but no field trips.
I guess the closest thing I can remember to a trip would be in the sixth grade. I had "made" the cheer leading squad that year. That meant I got to go to all the ballgames both at "home" and "away." Of course, "away" meant in the three cities which were about 5 to l0 minutes away from each other. But as a 12-year-old, I might as well have been going to another state. All those schools and all those different gyms! And, in my cheer outfit as well. I remember feeling so proud walking into the opposing team's gym, pom poms and all.
Being a Catholic school in the 60's, we had some pretty tight restrictions on our cheer routines. No "inappropriate" dancing or "inappropriate" words to our cheers. I remember once it was my turn to do the free throw "score cheer." This meant when a foul had been called and the player walked to the free throw line, I got to do an individual cheer to help him score. I bounced onto the floor, cheered "S-C-O-R-E .. Score Bobby Score!" I ended with a cartwheel and the splits. When I came bouncing back to the sidelines, pony tail swaying, I looked up in the bleachers. There she was ... Sr. Rose Patrice in full nun habit, glaring, absolutely glaring at me with her eyes slits and her mouth pursed. Oh! Oh! I think I did an "inappropriate" cheer. I worried the rest of the weekend that I was really going to be in big trouble when I arrived at school on Monday. My Mother assured me all weekend that I had done nothing wrong, but then she qualified her reassurance with her favorite statement, " I think those nuns sit up all night thinking up rules."
Sure enough Monday came and all the cheerleaders were summoned for a meeting in the Principal's office. Sr. Rose Patrice told us she was absolutely astonished that any decent girl would turn herself up-side-down and let her skirt fly up, let alone end in a split. From that day forward, no cartwheels, round-offs, or splits would be allowed.
We all showed deep remorse in her presence, but then giggled the rest of the day about her astonishment. I must admit I felt pretty empowered that a good little Catholic girl such as myself, for one shining moment got to be a "bad girl."
Maybe it is just as well we didn't have field trips. I can only imagine all the rules that might have been attached.
This is written as an assignment from The Red Dress Club. We were asked to write about a memorable school trip in grade school.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Utter Abandon
I confess I am a snow bunny. My absolute favorite season is winter. The colder ... the better. I am still wide-eyed, like a child, when I begin to see the snow start to fall. Why does it seem like it always snows during the middle of the night? I'm sure there is a scientific reason for this. All I know, is there have been times, over the years, when I have gotten up on purpose during the middle of the night just to watch it snow.
Some of my favorite vacations have been ski trips with my friends. On more than one occasion, twelve or more of us have rented a home in a ski area and have spent the week skiing, playing cards in the evening, and cooking special meals. Fun! Fun! When I think back on it, I am probably pretty lucky that I had more than one ski adventure.
My first ski trip was to Waterville Valley, New Hampshire. Yes, I learned to ski on ice, and I must say I prefer it over powder. I never mastered edging in powder, and I have a tendency to just fall over. My first adventure was a ski package that was all inclusive, even including 1 1/2 hours of instruction each day. I learned to ski by the Graduated Length Method, GLM. If my skiing prowess hadn't indicated BEGINNER, my skis surely did. They were only 3 feet long. I didn't get my poles right off the bat either. I remember my ski class was all so proud when we finally got 4 1/2 foot skis and poles. Our outward appearance, at least, looked like we might know what we were doing.
I skied the entire week of my winter get-away. To be that young again and have such endurance. But, the last day was my undoing. In typical ski story fashion, it literally was the final run of the final day of vacation. We got on the last lift of the day and up the mountain we went. Those rides have to be some of the most peaceful times of my life. The quiet that surrounded me was awesome. I could actually hear twigs snap off trees, and of course the blanket of white was magnificent. There were a lot of people going up the mountain for "one last run." This made for a longer than normal ride on the lift, and I enjoyed every second.
When we disembarked we were on a run called "Utter Abandon." Truer words were never spoken. It was high, steep, and one mogul after another. I slowly, very slowly started to make my way down. Turn to the right over one mogul. then left, and repeat. Because of the long lift ride, and the blowing cold wind, my bindings had frozen. I didn't know that, so when I fell very, very slowly my foot stayed forward facing down the mountain, and my left knee turned completely sideways. This time I heard a snap, but it wasn't the twigs on the trees, it was my knee. Determined that I would get down that mountain on my own, I insisted on getting up. With the help of my friends I almost stood up, but then quickly went right back down. The ski patrol was called and much to my embarrassment, I got a ride down in a toboggan. My friend was so scared to try to ski down, she was begging them to pull her down too.
I really did mess up my knee, and I went home with a cast from the top of my thigh to the bottom of my ankle. Everyone thought I was joking when I limped off the plane.
One surgery later, and the following winter, equipped with a brace, a wrap, and a knee-sleeve I anxiously got on the lift. Once again I felt the peace of the ride up the mountain, more than a little fear standing at the top, a tentative start down the mountain, and then a bit more abandon midway down. Not utter abandon, but normal, fun, skimming over the top of the snow abandon. Safely at the bottom, I looked back up at the mountain, then at my friends. We smiled at each other, then we giggled like school girls. With a Yeehaw!! out of my mouth, I was back. Back with my favorite snow, cold, mountain, and peaceful quiet of the ski slopes. There's just nothing like it.
This was written as a challenge from The Red Dress Club. We were asked to right about the first time we _________after_________.
Some of my favorite vacations have been ski trips with my friends. On more than one occasion, twelve or more of us have rented a home in a ski area and have spent the week skiing, playing cards in the evening, and cooking special meals. Fun! Fun! When I think back on it, I am probably pretty lucky that I had more than one ski adventure.
My first ski trip was to Waterville Valley, New Hampshire. Yes, I learned to ski on ice, and I must say I prefer it over powder. I never mastered edging in powder, and I have a tendency to just fall over. My first adventure was a ski package that was all inclusive, even including 1 1/2 hours of instruction each day. I learned to ski by the Graduated Length Method, GLM. If my skiing prowess hadn't indicated BEGINNER, my skis surely did. They were only 3 feet long. I didn't get my poles right off the bat either. I remember my ski class was all so proud when we finally got 4 1/2 foot skis and poles. Our outward appearance, at least, looked like we might know what we were doing.
I skied the entire week of my winter get-away. To be that young again and have such endurance. But, the last day was my undoing. In typical ski story fashion, it literally was the final run of the final day of vacation. We got on the last lift of the day and up the mountain we went. Those rides have to be some of the most peaceful times of my life. The quiet that surrounded me was awesome. I could actually hear twigs snap off trees, and of course the blanket of white was magnificent. There were a lot of people going up the mountain for "one last run." This made for a longer than normal ride on the lift, and I enjoyed every second.
When we disembarked we were on a run called "Utter Abandon." Truer words were never spoken. It was high, steep, and one mogul after another. I slowly, very slowly started to make my way down. Turn to the right over one mogul. then left, and repeat. Because of the long lift ride, and the blowing cold wind, my bindings had frozen. I didn't know that, so when I fell very, very slowly my foot stayed forward facing down the mountain, and my left knee turned completely sideways. This time I heard a snap, but it wasn't the twigs on the trees, it was my knee. Determined that I would get down that mountain on my own, I insisted on getting up. With the help of my friends I almost stood up, but then quickly went right back down. The ski patrol was called and much to my embarrassment, I got a ride down in a toboggan. My friend was so scared to try to ski down, she was begging them to pull her down too.
I really did mess up my knee, and I went home with a cast from the top of my thigh to the bottom of my ankle. Everyone thought I was joking when I limped off the plane.
One surgery later, and the following winter, equipped with a brace, a wrap, and a knee-sleeve I anxiously got on the lift. Once again I felt the peace of the ride up the mountain, more than a little fear standing at the top, a tentative start down the mountain, and then a bit more abandon midway down. Not utter abandon, but normal, fun, skimming over the top of the snow abandon. Safely at the bottom, I looked back up at the mountain, then at my friends. We smiled at each other, then we giggled like school girls. With a Yeehaw!! out of my mouth, I was back. Back with my favorite snow, cold, mountain, and peaceful quiet of the ski slopes. There's just nothing like it.
This was written as a challenge from The Red Dress Club. We were asked to right about the first time we _________after_________.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sing-Along!!
"Come and listen to my story about a man named Jed. Poor mountaineer barely kept his family fed. Then one day he was shootin' at some food, and up through the ground came a bubblin' crude."
That's right, I remember by heart all the words to the "Beverly Hillbillies" T.V. show theme song. Sometimes I can barely remember my phone number, let alone a grocery list from heart. But there is something about T.V. theme songs that are indelibly etched in my long term memory. I can sing every word to "Gilligan's Island", "I Love Lucy", and "Flipper".
I don't remember how to work a square root, how to diagram a sentence, how to conjugate a verb in French, but I can remember the words to "The Patty Duke" show. That actually turned out to be pretty important. Several years ago ago, a local radio station had a contest one evening. They challenged anyone who could sing, ON THE AIR, "The Patty Duke" show theme song to call in. If the person who sang got it correct, they won a prize. Well guess who won? You got it! Me! I won a gift certificate to a local music store for the album of my choice. Don't laugh. No one has offered me a gift certificate for knowing the adjective that modifies the noun!
I am very proud of myself. If I hadn't known Patty and Kathy were "one pair of matching bookends ... different as night and day", I would have been minus one less album in my collection.
So go ahead Jed, "load up the family and move to Beverly ... hills that is." Who knows your reward just might be a cement pond? And, I bet Mr. Ed could confirm that for you. He is "a horse, a horse of course, of course", and "nobody talks to a horse of course, unless of course, the horse of choice is the famous Mr. Ed."
The Red Dress writing club asked us to write about things we remember from heart from our childhood. I just immediately started singing!!
That's right, I remember by heart all the words to the "Beverly Hillbillies" T.V. show theme song. Sometimes I can barely remember my phone number, let alone a grocery list from heart. But there is something about T.V. theme songs that are indelibly etched in my long term memory. I can sing every word to "Gilligan's Island", "I Love Lucy", and "Flipper".
I don't remember how to work a square root, how to diagram a sentence, how to conjugate a verb in French, but I can remember the words to "The Patty Duke" show. That actually turned out to be pretty important. Several years ago ago, a local radio station had a contest one evening. They challenged anyone who could sing, ON THE AIR, "The Patty Duke" show theme song to call in. If the person who sang got it correct, they won a prize. Well guess who won? You got it! Me! I won a gift certificate to a local music store for the album of my choice. Don't laugh. No one has offered me a gift certificate for knowing the adjective that modifies the noun!
I am very proud of myself. If I hadn't known Patty and Kathy were "one pair of matching bookends ... different as night and day", I would have been minus one less album in my collection.
So go ahead Jed, "load up the family and move to Beverly ... hills that is." Who knows your reward just might be a cement pond? And, I bet Mr. Ed could confirm that for you. He is "a horse, a horse of course, of course", and "nobody talks to a horse of course, unless of course, the horse of choice is the famous Mr. Ed."
The Red Dress writing club asked us to write about things we remember from heart from our childhood. I just immediately started singing!!
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