This morning I sit in the spot my father occupied most evenings during the summer as I grew up.
In his webbed chair that glided back and forth, he’d sit with his cup of tea after dinner and watch the neighborhood go by. We might sit near by on the metal couch glider reading a book.
The Porch
Was he surveying what needed to be done around the yard? Mowing the lawn was the main focus as there were no shrubs and the trees and bushes were growing “naturally”. He was not a man who enjoyed taking care of yard work and we three girls did our share of mowing the lawn (we enjoyed the exercise!). Or was he just enjoying the view, our company, and counting his blessings?
I know he would have sat here on a Sunday morning like I am as there would be a flurry of preparation for 9:15 mass. But after Sunday midday dinner, he’d be here listening to his radio with a ballgame on or country music, watching the neighborhood go by.
Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to childhood?
I grew up in a traditional household in the 60s and 70s. Sundays involved the 9:15 mass, picking up newspapers (New Haven Register, New York Daily News, Boston paper) with the possibility of a comic at Boylans, and a stop at my aunt’s house before we were home. Once home, we read the papers, and waited for Sunday Dinner which happened anywhere between Noon and 2 p.m. Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating, but some Sundays it felt like it was that late because everyone else was out playing while we were still waiting to eat!
Except for that rare Sunday when we got Kentucky Fried Chicken….
Kentucky Fried Chicken. There was a store across the street from our church that opened at noon. On those Sundays (usually during the summer), my mom would head back out to pick up a box or bucket. They would also get the cole slaw and mashed potatoes and gravy that went with it.
Oh that chicken! So crunchy and greasy. I probably ate it for the skin more for the chicken. You can have those big old chicken breasts at the bottom of the box or bucket! Give me a leg or thigh for that juicy dark meat. As a last resort, I’d eat the breast but I’d need a lot of cranberry sauce to wash it down.
My father would jokingly swear that the cole slaw tasted “just like ice cream” and I’m sure we choked it down. Not like now – I love cole slaw!
Stores still exist, but the one across from our church is long gone and it’s probably a good thing because, like anything else that tastes so delicious, that skin is not good for you!
The last time I had it was in 2022 when we were traveling in California to visit my father in law and we stopped to pick it up and bring it for a dinner with him. It was as good as I remembered it and I’m sure as I did every other time I ate it, I told my husband the stories of my families KFC Sunday dinners.
Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.
I feel joy when I am riding my bike.
I received my first bike when I was about 7 years old. It was a second hand bike that my dad painted and put a new seat on. I would ride it all over the neighborhood. On weekends, my dad would take me, my sisters, and anyone from the neighborhood who wanted to join us on rides around town. The bike gained a banana seat with sissy bar and upraised handlebars when they came into style.
My first bike – 1967
I outgrew the bike and riding during high school but then received a 10-speed bike my senior year of high school. I brought my bike to college and rode around campus and up and down the country roads.
Woodstock Connecticut Route 169
When I moved to California, I brought my bike with me (in pieces, in a box!), but based on the rides my husband to be and his friends did, I bought a new bike designed for my short stature and for long miles. My longest ride to date is a 100K through the hills of Sonoma Country. I never did become fully comfortable clipping my feet in to the pedals!
Dry Creek Road area, Healdsburg California
After moving back to Connecticut, the road rides ended but we would take our mountain bikes with us on camping trips and ride from our site to the beach at Hammonasett and Rocky Neck State Parks or ride around Lake Waramaug. We also took our bikes on the ferry to Block Island and Martha’s Vineyard for traveling around.
Sights to see on Block Island, Rhode Island
Recently we purchased e-bikes to ride on which are electric, but pedal assist, which means you still have to pedal to move. People get the wrong idea because there are other types. When I first started riding my new bike, I would turn the assistance on and off and at the same time try to work through my gears. I quickly realized I need to just leave the assistance on at level 1 and just work through my gears and it created a much more enjoyable ride!
My bike – 2025Farmington Canal trail undergroundOne of the trails
So why does it bring me joy? I love the movement both in my legs and traveling a distance quickly! I love the feel of the sun on my shoulders in nice weather. I’m not incredibly fond of cold weather but my first ride was on ice and I can say I finished that ride! Some of the rides involve gravel, uphill and downhill, and I feel challenged, physically and mentally, to get up the hill and DOWN the hill! I’m always in the back of our 6 person pack but I’m getting better! The bike pedals allow for my shoes to clip in or remain free and I currently remain free.
I know that ear worms are usually associated with songs but I have an ear worm of a poem running through my head:
Summer breezes softly blow Memories of long ago Happy places Smiling faces Loving you
It is from SO long ago, and from a random place that I’m not sure it’s exact so maybe I’ve made some parts my own over the years.
I started enjoying poems when I was in my early teens. In our local newspaper was a weekly section of reader submitted poems. Being a love obsessed teen, the poems of that type were right up my alley! I was also in the early stages of typing so I would sit on the floor of my room with my aunt’s portable typewriter and type out the poems I liked. It was a great way to practice, progressing from “hunt and peck” to “not hunting but still pecking” to straight up “no look typing”.
I kept them all in a small book of sayings (about love, of course) that I hung onto for years, moving it with me in my “box of treasures” where ever we lived. Unfortunately, in the course of “simplifying”, the box with this book and some other items got thrown out with the rest. I feel a little heartbroken about it and feel like it’s going to magically appear one day!
Are your ear worms mostly music or do you have a favorite poem that pops into your head too?
New York, New York, what a wonderful town The Bronx is up and the Battery’s down! —from On Our Way with Gene Kelly
My first memory of visiting New York City is when I was maybe 7 or 8 years old. It was a Columbus Day trip with my mother, two sisters, aunt, and cousin and our destination was the Statue of Liberty.
We took the Metro North train out of New Haven and got on the subway heading to Battery Park. We were looking for the Bowling Green stop but how we missed it a few times! We probably headed into Brooklyn and then had to get back on in the direction we came from. We made it to the Statue and had a great time, and I got a pen in the gift shop with a floating statue.
The next time I traveled into the city it was with my sisters during Christmas time. Those trips bring back memories of Crabtree and Evelyn scents and Dansko clogs! We would visit Rockefeller Center to see the tree and shop.
Macy’sRockefeller TreeEmpire State Building
When I lived in California, I always raved about New York, and must have been incredibly obnoxious! San Francisco just didn’t compare.
After we moved back to Connecticut, my sisters and I would take our kids into the city to wander. We weren’t very comfortable on the subway – we didn’t want to get lost – so we dragged the kids all over the place on foot! One trip by the time we got the Met on 82nd Street, they were exhausted already! They were very happy when we were finally comfortable enough to take the subway.
My husband is now my favorite traveler to New York. We’ve gone for concerts and basketball games at Madison Square Garden, stayed a few days at a time to shop at Christmastime, and this year I’ve (dragged him along) taken him to a broadway play, with more to come.
Carnegie HallThe CloistersMSG
Today we headed in for a short trip to see the newly re-opened Frick Collection. We had an early lunch before our 12:30 check in. The museum isn’t very large so we saw all we needed to see in an hour. We were headed home on the 2:04pm train.
We’ll be back down there in early June with my husband’s aunt and uncle from California. Tickets have been purchased for a play (Six), tickets for the Vessel, and ideas ready for dinners. I can’t wait!
What’s your favorite place to visit and how often do you get there?
Tonight on Spring Baking Championship on HGTV, one of the challenges was for the bakers to elevate one of their favorite childhood desserts. That got me thinking about MY favorite childhood desserts.
My uncle on my mother’s side was a baker. I don’t know if he learned his trade in the army or by osmosis from my grandmother. He owned his own bakery for a few years and, after closing it, worked first at the local prep school, until finally settling in as the baker at Masonic Home and Hospital, a rehabilitation hospital and nursing home for people who were members of the Masonic Temple Association.
This man made the most INCREDIBLE baked goods. It’s amazing that he could make hundreds of desserts for the people at Masonic using these huge tubs for the dough and ovens to bake in and each one tasted as delicious as if it was one of only a dozen.
My favorites were his chocolate eclairs. They were all one piece filled with cream and delicious chocolate on top.
Chocolate Eclair (from the internet)
His cream puffs! Oh my word! Filled with delightful air pockets stuffed with cream.
Cream Puffs (internet photo)
He also made something called a Hermit Cookie. I found it quickly online. They were square bar cookies with ginger and molasses and raisins. One version I found is called New England Hermit Cookie Bar with the story that they date back to the Pilgrims and they were good for travel because they were dense and stayed moist for up to two weeks! Maybe his mother, my grandmother, brought the recipe with her when she immigrated from the Galician area of Poland in the early 1900s!
From thelemonbowl.com recipe
I do remember my uncle’s Hermit cookies being overall dark like the inside of this one.
In addition to his job and making desserts for family events, he made the wedding cakes for my mother, and for my cousin.
We did not have homemade desserts in our house. They were store bought cookies and pastries. My mother worked full time and she wasn’t really a baker, with the exception of the four layer chocolate cake with whipped cream filling and chocolate frosting we requested for our family birthday parties! She never said no! There would always be cake left over and we would eat that until there wasn’t a crumb left anywhere.
“I expect my mother’s fear of decimal currency was related to her dislike of math, which is a common fear often dating back to a cruel teacher.” – Cherry in Here One Moment by Liane Moriarty.
Oh, that hit me right in the memories!
I don’t think Sister Holly Jean my third grade teacher at Holy Trinity School was intentionally being mean. There were two math groups and two reading groups, and when you’ve already spent 2 years with the same kids, you know which is which.
I bounced back and forth between those two math groups throughout 3rd grade. Long division was my nemesis! Carrying the what because it’s not equal where? My mother brought home waste letter paper from work and filled them with division problems for me to solve.
I survived third grade math but I was never the same afterwards. Math just continued to beat me down year after year. Algebra, Geometry, even review math in 12th grade was a struggle.
Ironically, I really enjoyed Accounting in high school and college and handle the (Quick)books for our company.
Last Tuesday, our dog Wally passed away. I wrote about it on my family stories site.
Now when I come downstairs in the morning, there are no pee pads to check (and no floor surveillance!) and no breakfast to make.
Some days he’d be waiting for me and other days, he slept for a few more hours but my routine was always the same.
I continue to say “Good Morning” and “Good Night” in the direction of his bed(s) and when I come into the house I still peek around the door to see if he’s there.
I know someday that will stop, but for now, I keep his spirit alive.
Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?
In sixth grade art class, the assignment was to draw an animal that represented us.
I chose a Chameleon. Whew, that’s deep for a 12 year old right?
I felt like I changed and adapted to the people around me. I didn’t consider it in a bad way, like I wasn’t being myself. It was more that I could be comfortable around different types of people.
Later on, I read a chameleon changes colors as camouflage to hide from predators. That resonated with me too because I do like to blend in the background and be support rather than a star.
Thoughts From The Passenger Seat 