The Reindeer Keeper

Whatever the season or holiday, living in the country provides the perfect backdrop. Growing up, this proved especially true on Halloween when spooks could be hiding in cornfields or in gardens almost bare or in haylofts where bats swooped and creepy creatures lurked behind the bales piled high. With poplar trees nearly stripped of leaves, the remaining ones on the gnarly branches would rustle in the wind-their edginess scripted for the night of ghosts and goblins. And if nature's backdrop wasn't enough for little imaginations to grab hold of and enhance all the more, stir in ghoulish adults with a foot still firmly placed in childhood wonder and pranking and you had the perfect scenario for the most scariest-most horrifying, monster mashing Halloweens ever-the kind you look back on as an adult and feel blessed with the memories. Memories of a grandmother whose nose was fit for a witch as was her heckle and whose long grey hair when left to fall seemed ...

On the back of this family photo it's written-"Sold Good Friday-1947." I have no clue who in the family owned this car. I do know it was probably considered a part of the family for more times than not, that's what our vehicles become-part of our families. Many people even have names for their cars. We certainly did! The first vehicle I vaguely remember is my grandfather's old Ford truck. I don't remember seeing him in it. I just remember seeing it sitting here and there. My mother loved buying new cars which is surprising because she didn't get her license until later on in life. I think it must have been the experience of going into a showroom and wheeling and dealing for something shiny and untouched and smelling like only new cars do. Any car she bought had to be black because my father was a funeral director and sometimes the car was used for work. I remember when my parents and my aunt had the same model car. Both black, they were the latest mode...

I'd venture to say that just about every home has a junk drawer. Growing up we always had one in the kitchen. I've carried that tradition on-having my own junk drawer in my own kitchen. Maybe it's called something else by some people but it means the same. It's the place where anything leftover from a package of something like batteries or thumb tacks-anything small that doesn't have a designated place-like on a bookshelf or in a closet or in the garage or on a wall but rather  has a potential to be used like an odd nail or two, a hook, a screw and a screwdriver, a hammer, hair clips, paper clips, pennies, dice, toothpicks, plastic ties, coupons (many outdated), tape, half-used crayons, tubes of glue, pencils and pens, etc.-is thrown and forgotten about until the need arises for a 'what-cha-ma-call-it' or a 'thing-a-ma-jig' and then the hunt begins. It's a place you should go into very carefully for as you ramble through it-your fingers might g...

Putting little fingers in a birdbath may sound simple yet to a child looking at and feeling the water trickling down her fingers it opens her curious mind to imaginative possibilities and unending questions. Just what is this stuff? Why does it move down my things called fingers and fall to the ground-and then where does whatever it is go? Why does this stuff feel like it does and why can't I hold it like I do my favorite blanket or mommy's hand? Why does this stuff move around like it does when I put my fingers in it and why does it go all over the place-including me-when I move my fingers faster and then put one hand in it and then the other hand and move them faster and faster-in a circle and then up and down-even faster-so fast that I can hardly breath because the stuff gets in my eyes and I can't see and that stuff on my head called hair is wet as are my clothes and I feel chilly as the summer breeze passes me by. Yet whenever I am able to catch my brea...

I remember my mother, grandmother and aunts all saved S & H Green Stamps. They'd lick the backs of the stamps and place them on pages of small booklets. Once they had enough booklets filled, they would go downtown to the S & H Green Stamps store and redeem their books of stamps for merchandise-really good, brand-name merchandise-everything from pearls to luggage to kitchen pots and pans, etc. The more expensive an item-the more books one needed to redeem the stamps for the merchandise. That's how many Christmas presents were 'bought.' Some people would save their  books of stamps all year long and then go shopping at the S & H Green Stamp store. It was fun looking through the 'S & H Distinguished Merchandise Idea Book.' It was like the Sears Toy Catalog-but not as exciting! My cousin and I liked to save the stamps too. I remember searching anywhere to find enough stamps to fill a book-my mother's purse (after asking),...

I was recently reminded how absolutely fantastically wonderful it is to play in the leaves. And if that reminder comes from a child-as it did for me-then the experience is all the more amazing-turning an afternoon visit into an afternoon of imagination through the eyes of a 3-year old granddaughter. When I first arrived she and her mommy and daddy had been gathering leaves into a giant pile. She came around the corner of the house, sitting on her daddy's lap-smiling-as he drove the lawn mower while holding a rake. The fun soon began as she buried her daddy-and then her mommy in the picky leaves. Then they turned the tables and covered her in the leaves. She didn't stay still for long. Up she jumped-her hair twisted in leaves-coughing and laughing and jumping around.  After a bit, it was just the two of us at the leaf pile-then in the leaf pile-then under the leaf pile over and over again. But that curious, childhood imagination really kicked in when I took a rake an...

There are some things that really don't change-like the love of a cardigan sweater that spans generations. I don't know when this picture was taken showing some of my aunts in their cardigans but I wear similar cardigans today. A cardigan is timeless-versatile-always adds the perfect touch.There's just something about them. They become old friends-always there for us-always making us feel warm-making us feel like all will be okay. Although some cardigans come with buttons, hooks, or zippers, the style of the sweater remains the same despite the use of a variety of fabrics. I still remember a cashmere cardigan my mother wore when dressing up-quite possibly the softest sweater I've ever felt. With small silver buttons up the front, I thought my mother looked like a fairy princess every time she wore it to go some place special with my father. When she wasn't wearing her cashmere sweater, my mother kept it in a dresser drawer wrapped in tiss...