Posted tagged ‘balsa planes’

“As long as there is chocolate, there will be happiness.”

April 19, 2019

The morning is warm despite the wind. It was sunny, but now it’s cloudy. It rained last night and may rain again today. I’m not a fan of on again off again spring days. Here on the cape the wind keeps us cooler than the rest of the state. In the summer the wind is welcomed. This time of year not so much.

When I was a kid, we always had Good Friday off from school, but sometimes the nuns would make us sign up for an hour vigil at the church. I remember the statues were all covered in purple. I remember watching people doing the stations of the cross. I remember being totally bored.

I never knew where the Easter baskets and all the goodies were hidden. I thought maybe my parent’s closet, but I had no excuse to go rummaging. We used to get chocolate rabbits, the universal basket candy, jelly beans which back then were big and all of them pretty much tasted the same. The Easter Bunny also included small toys like my brother’s balsa plane while I got toys like jacks and the wooden paddle with the red rubber ball attached by an elastic. My sisters got stuffed rabbits or ducks. I don’t know how ducks horned in on Easter. All of a sudden there were ducks. We also got panoramic eggs with a scene inside. I know they were edible, but they tasted awful so we saved them. We, of course, ate the rabbit’s ears first. I think that was an unwritten custom.

Good Friday has always been meatless. My mother sometimes served fish sticks and French fries. Our favorite was fried dough. My mother couldn’t fry fast enough. We slathered the fried dough with butter and sprinkled salt on it. I remember all of us crowded around the dish waiting for more.

My laundry is put away. The trash is in the trunk so the dump is on my to do list. I called for an emergency eye doctor’s appointment. It is at 1:30. My eye feels as if something is in it.

I woke up at 8:30. I was shocked at how early it was.

“To this day, I have the most fond memories of some of my old toys.”

September 3, 2017

It has been raining since the early morning. The dampness coupled with the strong breeze has made it a cold day. The house is chilly. I put on a sweatshirt. The heat is off but were it on, the temperature is 1˚ from triggering the furnace.

When I first went to take Gracie out, she backed away from the door. I had to grab her by the halter to get her outside. She squatted right by the walkway.

Gracie needs canned food, and the bird feeder needs thistle so we’ll be heading to Agway sometime later. I think I’ll stop at the new Thai place and treat myself to lunch. I know I’ll order coconut shrimp then I’ll check out the menu to see what else appeals to me.

This room is so dusty I could write my name on just about any surface. Actually, on the larger surfaces I could write adages, messages and things like Wash Me or Dust Me with several exclamation points following behind. I used to feel guilty about the dust, but now I don’t care. I subscribe to the if I clean it now, it will be dusty again by tonight school of thought.

I got a few boxes yesterday from Amazon. I haven’t opened them yet. They’re still on the floor by the door. My lack of curiosity is explained by the e-mail confirming my orders have been delivered. I bought two balsa airplane kits for two of my grandnephews. I remembered flying the same sort of plane when I was a kid. I’d buy it at Woolworth’s for ten cents. The plane had to be put together slowly and gently or the wood would split. The front had a red plastic nose to give the plane a bit of weight. The back had two pieces: one like a fin and the other a small wing-like piece. The pieces had to be slid into their positions. The main part was the wing. It was slid through the middle of the plane really slowly and required a deft hand or the wing would split. Moving the wing up and down in the slit made the plane fly different ways like in loops. We’d fly the planes in a field so they could land on grass. The wood was too flimsy to save the planes if they hit anything. We hated losing the planes but knew a dime would buy us another one.

Both the boys have grown up with electronics, but maybe the novelty of the planes will pique their interest. Watching them loop and fly was the best fun. I hope it still is.

“The odds of going to the store for a loaf of bread and coming out with only a loaf of bread are three billion to one.”

November 29, 2012

I lost count of the number of envelopes I stuffed this morning, and my back started to give out so I finished around noon. To ease my pain I shopped for a few Christmas presents at the Natural History Museum store.

The sun keeps appearing and disappearing, but the day is bright enough to keep me happy. Gracie, my live barometer, stayed out in the yard a long while: the longer she’s out, the nicer the day. It’s sweatshirt weather.

When I was a kid, Woolworth’s uptown was my favorite store. It was an old store with a wooden floor that sloped in places and squeaked when you walked on it. The cash registers were in the front by the windows. The toys were in the second aisle. Comic books were on a rack toward the front. We’d always pick up and read a couple while we were there. Nobody ever yelled at us to put them down. I remember the balsa model planes we’d buy for 10 cents. They’d have only a couple of flights before some piece would break, usually the tail-piece. Woolworth’s was where we bought our kites and string. It was also our Christmas shopping mecca. With a dollar in hand, we could find something for the whole family. For my dad, it was a white handkerchief every Christmas. He used handkerchiefs all of his life. My mother was a bit more difficult. I’d have to go up and down the aisles until I found the perfect gift. Perfume in small glass bottles made a great present. I suspect it smelled pretty bad, but I thought the etched bottles were pretty. My sisters got doll bottles or doll rattles and my brother often got that plane from me.

I wrapped those gifts myself and used plenty of tape so no one could peek though my sister Moe probably did. She was known for peeking through tiny holes she’d rip in the wrapping paper and was an expert at not getting caught. Over time, she has parlayed that talent into being able to guess what is in just about every wrapped Christmas present. She does her parlor trick on Christmas Eve and scores nearly 100%. Outwitting Moe is one of the challenges of Christmas. It takes ingenuity and guile, and I have both. This year Moe goes down!