Eva Pasco's Blog - Posts Tagged "262nd-blog"
Eva’s Byte #262 – Giving Credit Where Credit’s Due
Although, spinning in a different direction from Eva’s Byte #108 - My Mother: My Muse, published at Authors Den on May 12, 2017:
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose (The more things change, the more they stay the same).
Staying the same: my mother, my muse, is a source of inspiration. She continues to convey her pride in my ability to write convincing stories.
These days, abiding by strict restrictions put in place at the assisted living facility where my mother resides—she’s even more of an inspiration. Although she occasionally bemoans not having her hair done, overall, my mother maintains a positive attitude and adheres to the healthy lifestyle credited for her longevity.
Giving credit where credit’s due:
Memoir #77 - My Mom’s True-Love Ways from 100 Wild Mushrooms: Memoirs of the ‘60s (2017)
Back in the early Sixties when most moms were career housewives, my mom got up at five every morning to make my father’s lunch. This did not entail slapping a slice of baloney between two pieces of Wonder bread glued together with mustard. A true-love way to the nth degree, she’d either whip up a frittata or peppers and eggs, or a combo of sausage, peppers, and mushrooms. Then she’d generously stuff the contents inside two sandwiches made from thickly sliced Italian bread. Next, she’d dole whatever my dad was having into torpedo rolls for our school lunches while my sister and I set the table for breakfast.
Once my mother sent the three of us on our merry way, she washed and dried all the pots n’ pans and dishes before tackling housework and doing the laundry.
Since my mom didn’t drive at this juncture in her life, she had plenty of time before my father came home to lounge on the couch to suck up the soaps—Guiding Light, As the World Turns, or The Edge of Night—but, always found something to keep busy instead.
This could have run the gamut of raking the entire yard, mowing the lawn with our manual mower, or standing on a ladder to wash windows that required her to remove or reposition the storm windows.
Another one of my mom’s true-love ways was to surprise us by baking a cake from scratch, or out of a Betty Crocker or Duncan Hines box mix. One of my favorites was “coconut surprise”—not so much for the coconut, but the little bits of rainbow candies that melted in your mouth. I also liked when she surprised us with Pillsbury rolls fresh out of the oven to accompany our dinner.
On an off-day, my mother put the pedal to the metal on her Singer sewing machine where she designed clothes for our Barbie dolls without needing any patterns.
During the change of seasons I couldn’t wait to get home from school to see how she decorated my bedroom with its coordinating bedspread and curtains.
A Sixties mom’s “true-love ways” were unique to a decade where housewives ruled the roost while fathers were the sole providers who brought home the bacon. Oftentimes, these gals succumbed to the latest gizmos and gadgets peddled by door-to-door salesmen like the Fuller Brush man or Avon lady during an era when it was considered generally safe to allow doorbell ringers into your home.
Occasionally these moms visited neighbors and enjoyed conversation over a cup of coffee during the early afternoon. Mostly, a Sixties mom’s true-love ways lavished attention on her family.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose (The more things change, the more they stay the same).
Staying the same: my mother, my muse, is a source of inspiration. She continues to convey her pride in my ability to write convincing stories.
These days, abiding by strict restrictions put in place at the assisted living facility where my mother resides—she’s even more of an inspiration. Although she occasionally bemoans not having her hair done, overall, my mother maintains a positive attitude and adheres to the healthy lifestyle credited for her longevity.
Giving credit where credit’s due:
Memoir #77 - My Mom’s True-Love Ways from 100 Wild Mushrooms: Memoirs of the ‘60s (2017)
Back in the early Sixties when most moms were career housewives, my mom got up at five every morning to make my father’s lunch. This did not entail slapping a slice of baloney between two pieces of Wonder bread glued together with mustard. A true-love way to the nth degree, she’d either whip up a frittata or peppers and eggs, or a combo of sausage, peppers, and mushrooms. Then she’d generously stuff the contents inside two sandwiches made from thickly sliced Italian bread. Next, she’d dole whatever my dad was having into torpedo rolls for our school lunches while my sister and I set the table for breakfast.
Once my mother sent the three of us on our merry way, she washed and dried all the pots n’ pans and dishes before tackling housework and doing the laundry.
Since my mom didn’t drive at this juncture in her life, she had plenty of time before my father came home to lounge on the couch to suck up the soaps—Guiding Light, As the World Turns, or The Edge of Night—but, always found something to keep busy instead.
This could have run the gamut of raking the entire yard, mowing the lawn with our manual mower, or standing on a ladder to wash windows that required her to remove or reposition the storm windows.
Another one of my mom’s true-love ways was to surprise us by baking a cake from scratch, or out of a Betty Crocker or Duncan Hines box mix. One of my favorites was “coconut surprise”—not so much for the coconut, but the little bits of rainbow candies that melted in your mouth. I also liked when she surprised us with Pillsbury rolls fresh out of the oven to accompany our dinner.
On an off-day, my mother put the pedal to the metal on her Singer sewing machine where she designed clothes for our Barbie dolls without needing any patterns.
During the change of seasons I couldn’t wait to get home from school to see how she decorated my bedroom with its coordinating bedspread and curtains.
A Sixties mom’s “true-love ways” were unique to a decade where housewives ruled the roost while fathers were the sole providers who brought home the bacon. Oftentimes, these gals succumbed to the latest gizmos and gadgets peddled by door-to-door salesmen like the Fuller Brush man or Avon lady during an era when it was considered generally safe to allow doorbell ringers into your home.
Occasionally these moms visited neighbors and enjoyed conversation over a cup of coffee during the early afternoon. Mostly, a Sixties mom’s true-love ways lavished attention on her family.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
