Saturday, July 30, 2016

More Than A Rope Swing With A Knot

I wish I had an actual photo of the rope swing with a knot at the end enjoyed by my cousins and I when playing down at the creek. This photo showing my aunt raking wood chips while wearing a skirt gives you a sense of where the creek was located-behind her looking over the top of the woodpile-but it doesn't show the towering maple tree from which a rope swing hung. It would have been more to the right-further along behind the woodpile.

Being a kid, that tree was mighty. Taller than all the rest, it stood out along that creek bed. No matter the season, that tree ruled. In the spring when the water rose and chunks of ice crashed against it as the wind blew and the snow swirled, that tree stood its ground. Looking out my bedroom window, I'd watch the rope get tossed about. Sometimes it'd be frozen in place due to sub-zero temperatures. When there were ice storms it'd become one long, thick sheet of ice. None of that stopped us from going down there. We never considered the weather or the season to be a factor if we wanted to play down at the rope.

But there was more than just the rope that was the attraction. Sitting right next to the tree was one huge-huge rock. Eventually we figured out tricks to do combining the rope swing and the rock. Standing on the opposite side of the tree, we'd take hold of that rope, get a running start-then leap up on to the rope-holding on for all we were worth with our feet hopefully firmly planted on top of the knot. Depending on our lift-off, that rope would take us out as far as possible over the creek (in the summer full of blood suckers), then it would come back in as fast as it could on the other side of the tree. If we maneuvered everything successfully, we'd land feet first square on top of the huge rock where upon we would lift our arms in victory and proclaim a happy, "tad-da"! If we didn't maneuver everything successfully, accidents happened. There were times we came crashing in to the tree-sometimes back first. There were times we'd drop right into Sucker Creek. There were times when our lift-offs were disastrous. Our feet wouldn't catch hold of the knot. Instead, they'd flail about-hitting the creek grass, the brambles full of burrs and sometimes the huge rock itself before we came crashing to a stop. Whenever such disasters took place, we'd look up towards that row of houses to see if any adult had witnessed what had taken place. If we didn't hear anyone yelling at us, we'd go right back at it. I don't think any kid anywhere had any more fun than we did down on the banks of Sucker Creek swinging on our rope swing.

One year for Christmas, my cousin wrapped up that knot and gave it to me as a gift. Pulling away the tissue paper, tears came to my eyes when seeing that knot again. It was as if I was greeting an old friend. In some ways-I was.

Saturday, July 2, 2016

A Real Beauty of America-Really!

When I entered my grandmother in a contest sponsored by Ladies' Home Journal, I never told her. That's because I thought I'd surprise her if for some wild chance she'd be one of eight women chosen from essays submitted by readers to be showcased in a special supplement in their July issue titled "The Real Beauties of America." It was 1976. America would be celebrating its Bicentennial!

The minute I read about the Journal's search for those eight women in early February I focused on my grandmother-nicknamed Giddy by my older brother when he was a little boy. The name stuck. Everyone called her Giddy. I wrote my submission out on a legal pad over a weekend. I'd thought about what I'd say days prior whenever I had a moment to think. At that time I was the mother of 3 young children. There was no internet back then so once I was just about finished with what I was writing I took out my typewriter and began fine tuning it. I mailed it at the post office Monday morning thinking at least I'd gone through the process and that was that.

When Ladies' Home Journal called in late April we were all sick with the flu. I answered the phone. I half listened because I felt sick to my stomach. It wasn't until I heard 'Ladies' Home Journal' did I realize what was going on although I couldn't jump up and down for joy. I didn't dare. Actually I didn't think much about it right then. The flu had my full attention. A few days later I realized I'd best tell my grandmother since a crew from the magazine would be coming to interview and photograph her. She didn't believe me at first. When it sunk in, she was delighted. She couldn't wait to meet them.

On the day of their arrival I was at my grandmother's home. One of my aunts lived with her so the three of us sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and waiting. It wasn't long before a car pulled into the driveway. Seconds later three women were at the front door-the Health and Beauty Editor, her assistant and a photographer. The next few hours were a whirlwind. My grandmother was a hit. Our visitors loved her. I knew they would. She was a perfect fit. I was told there had been been thousands of entries.

I couldn't wait until that July issue was out. When I saw it for the first time I read it over and over again. They actually referenced my grandmother on the introductory page-"And as for Giddy, who raised six children and ran the tractor on the family farm, she reminds us that the spunky American woman is nothing new."

That was certainly the truth. While my grandmother is no longer with us, her spunky spirit will forever be a part of us. I'm so glad I entered her in that contest. She deserved to be on those pages that Bicentennial year of America.