Frances Ellen Speaks!

Archive for the ‘Journaling’ Category

I bought my first laptop today.

It got me to thinking back to my first secretarial job. Back then the qualifications needed to land a job were a good typing score (on a typewriter) with a knowledge of shorthand, or the ability to transcribe from a dictaphone or ediphone.

If copies were ever needed, you used carbon paper. Suppose you needed fifty or sixty copies? Then you had to rev up the mimeograph machine, but first a stencil had to be typed. Lots of good fun there!  See Boomer with a View.

I remember the first time I used Email. The system was installed into every employees’ computer in the company. Voila! I could actually send a message to someone on the third floor from the first floor. Believe it or not, it was only a test run at our company. The CEO didn’t see any future in it. When the test period ended, Email disappeared from my workplace. Wonder where that guy is working today?

Anyway, I wrote this post on my new laptop. Welcome to the 21st century.

About a week ago, I sent an email out to several friends asking them to share a favorite childhood memory with me. Many of those who replied were the same people who have been telling me they can’t write.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you know I strongly feel everyone should be writing something –anything– so that the only thing one leaves behind isn’t just ashes. What would be the point of your being here if that’s all you leave?

Don’t even think about keeping a diary. Because you probably won’t. However, having a notebook sitting on an end table, a pretty one with flowers or something on the cover, might be just the thing. If it’s there, maybe you’ll write in it once in a while. I guarantee someone from the future will thank you for it.

From time to time, I’ll show some of the responses I received to my question. The ones I’ve chosen to share today probably took a mere five minutes (if that) for the respondents to write.

Here’s one from Judy H. It’s only two sentences long, but it says a lot about how kids entertained themselves before computers, and about the lack of crime in our neighborhoods.

I think my favorite childhood memories were playing games in the street – like “giant step” and neighborhood games like “Cops and Robbers”. Those were the days when you could run around the neighborhood without being afraid.

This one is from Judy C. Again, very few sentences. This one is a whopping three sentences. Who knew before there were Good Humor trucks, there were Good Humor bikes?

Let’s, see, I think it would be when my grandfather was a VP with Good Humor. I used to visit the warehouse where all the Good Humor Ice Cream bicycles were kept and riding them around the warehouse, not to mention eating the Good Humor ice cream birthday cakes he used to have made for me. Wow, that was a looooooooooooonng time ago!!

It doesn’t get much more succinct than this from Denise O.

When my sister ;o) got me Tony the Pony
>Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox LOVE THAT TONY!!!

For the record, Denise is my sister and I bought the Tony the Pony for her birthday when she was four or five years old. Tony is a legend in our family. But who would know the story of Tony if we didn’t write about him?

Trust me, you need to buy yourself a notebook.

My mother would say to me,”Don’t spray cologne on your neck.”

Here’s her rationale. The skin under your chin, the “front” of your neck, is thin, delicate skin. It is one of the first places where people show their age. Since the first ingredient in cologne is alcohol, this is NOT a good thing to spray on your neck year after year after year. Her advice–spritz a little to the “back” of your neck, your wrists and the inside of your elbows.

This was another of her favorites.  ”Is there any reason why you have to look in the mirror at yourself while you brush your teeth?”

At the time, this seemed a little peevish to me, but I wasn’t the one cleaning off the tiny specks of dried toothpaste off the mirror. I am now. I don’t look into the mirror while brushing anymore.

Here’s another. “Always make sure you have money in your purse.”

Notice she didn’t say a “dime” (which way back when, that’s how much it cost to make a phone call in case of an emergency). She meant “real” money. To this day, I never leave the house with less than $10.00. And I have experienced my share of little emergencies when I was glad I had that money with me. Especially one night after midnight, when I got a flat tire and a good samaritan stopped and changed it for me. I forced that $10.00 on him, he didn’t want to take it, but I had it to give, and at 1:00 a.m. in the morning, I wished it could’ve been more.

She had some kooky ones, too. “Always make your bed in the morning.”

This had to do with one of her many “what if” scenarios. What if you went to work and there was a fire, (The firemen would see my unmade bed?) or what if you forgot something at home and had to send someone to your house to fetch it for you. (They would look through my house mainly to see if my bed was made?) Believe me, she had several more freaky reasons why my bed should me made, but I think she just liked the idea of a home that was always in order. This was her way of scaring me into being orderly.

Evidently, she was not alone with this last piece of motherly advice. I have friends whose mothers told them the same thing. ”Always wear clean underwear.”

I will spare you the “what if” scenarios that go along with this one.

Many people recall insightful advice they’ve received from a parent. The young mother over at Verlanderville remembers an admonition from her mother.

Growing up, my mother told us that we were not allowed to use the word hate for things like vegetables, songs, people, etc.  She said that it was a very strong word and that we should only use it for things like sin, injustice, math, etc.

Clearly, dads can give good advice, too. See Mom & A Microphone

It was my 7-year-old’s first flag football game of the season. I was secretly dreading it, since my mother and father were always sitting on the sidelines at Griffin’s games, cheering him on. This year, Dad wouldn’t be there. Dad was Griffin’s biggest fan. Last season, when I expressed concern that I “wasn’t sure this was his strongest sport,” Dad told me, “be patient. He’ll get better with time.” And just like all the other advice my father has given me, he was right.

Makes you smile, doesn’t it?

image from

Last Saturday afternoon, as I was getting ready to walk home from my friend Bev’s house, the clouds shuddered and an unexpected shower of rain began pelting the windows. It sounded good to me. It sounded like bad timing to Bev.

Her immediate thoughts were: maybe I should wait until the rain stopped or slowed down, or I should, at least, borrow an umbrella, or…

But I was thinking, I couldn’t remember the last time I walked in the rain. So, I pooh, poohed the offer of an umbrella and ventured outside. It was a hot day. The rain felt cool. I noticed steam rising from the ground, as the earth drank its full. Huge drops of rain cascaded down from my head. There was no lightning, no thunder–a perfect day for a stroll. I looked up at the sky as I walked and drops of water splattered onto my face. By the time, I reached my front door, I was soaked to the skin. I stepped inside and dropped my clothes.

Spontaneity had surprised me and gifted me with a glorious, divine, magnificent interlude!

From the news stan(d)

Someone’s said that “spontaneity is the quality of being able to do something just because you feel like it at the moment, of trusting your instincts, of taking yourself by surprise…

You don’t think about being spontaneous, you just do it. It comes from within you to do what you like, how you like it and when you want it. It just happens – unplanned, unstructured and best of all, unexpected but still within your power to shape it.

The Cook Family seems to know how to be spontaneous.

The other day Dan got home from work just in time to catch the sun going down . The second he came through the door he said, “grab a blanket, we’re going on the roof.”

This idea tickled me – Manufactured Spontaneity

At Flax, the art supply store, you can buy a notebook with napkins instead of pages. Because so many great ideas started on a napkin. So. You should be ready with some napkins.

Spontaneity–it comes in all sizes.

What about you? Spontaneous or Well Planned Agenda?

Every once in a while, I feel the necessity to encourage people to write and record a memory or two. I often suggest this to friends and I receive a variety of responses:
“I’m not a writer.”
“Nothing interesting has happened in my life.”
“No one would be interested in reading anything I could write.”
“I’m uncomfortable revealing incidents from my life.”
“I don’t have the time.”
“I wouldn’t know what to write about.”

I have answers for each of the above. If you know how to talk, you know how to write. Everyone has something interesting and insightful to document for family members to read sometime in the future. And it doesn’t have to be anything too personal. As to having time–if you have time to read or watch television, you can steal a half hour to write. And what to write? Write about anything you think your children or grandchildren might like to know about you. For instance:
Where did you meet your spouse?
When was your first kiss? With who?
What were your parents like?
Tell about your favorite vacation.
What country would you visit if you could?

 Remembering is a good thing. I’m not the only one who thinks so.

This from an article in O Magazine 

Writing memoir is a way to figure out who you used to be and how you got to be who you are.

From Barefoottech in Australia

“When my Father was dying of cancer he started to write about his life. I longed for him to be able to record all of his experiences. Sadly, he only wrote a fraction of it, but I treasure to this day the bit he did accomplish. However, there is so much I wish I could ask, and can’t. Now I’m older I want to know more.”

Whatever memories or knowledge you may have, write them down. Her grandfather was a brilliant gardener, but unfortunately none of his tips were passed on.

In the July/August issue of the AARP magazine, there is an excellent article about memoirs, Everyone Has a Story to Tell. I agree.

Is there any reason why you can’t go out and buy a notebook? If it’s sitting on a table or a desk, maybe you’ll be moved to write something in it.

Since I wrote all about things that I love last week, it seems only fair that I write about a few things I hated in the 80′s and still hate in 2008. As in my previous post, some of the things on my old list are outdated. For instance, back then I hated “window envelopes.” I don’t have a problem with them anymore because I pay the majority of my bills online. I also didn’t like to “clean the oven,” and thank goodness that has changed. I have a self-cleaning oven.

Following are still problem areas–things that I hate:

Toilet paper installed backward on the dispenser
Stupid TV commercials
Guests that arrive late for a sit-down dinner
Any kind of cruelty or abuse
Mixing ground beef with my hands (yuk!)
Golf (Sorry, golfers, but I just don’t get it.)
Hate when my feet are cold
Polkas
Advertising cards stuck inside a magazine
Bugs, mice and snakes

Well, that’s it for me. If you need to vent, send me your list.