Experiences

Pea Pancakes

Jeanna G4 Comments

My Uncle passed on a week ago. As sad as death can be, I prefer to find joy in what a life has brought to the world. My Uncle lived a long 91 years, and accomplished more than most could hope to do. But in keeping with my theme, I’ll tell you about my favorite memories of him from childhood.

Uncle Dick played a pivotal role in finding my dad a job working for the State of Connecticut, and finding our first home in Granby, where I grew up. He and his family lived not too far from there, so we were able to visit them often. He had two young daughters that were close to my age. We would have sleepovers and, in the mornings, Uncle Dick would make us pancakes. Except these weren’t ordinary pancakes, these were pea pancakes. He would hide a single pea in a few in the stack, and we would have to eat our way through the stack to find them. Who knew a child could get so excited about a pea?!

One Summer we went over to play, and he set up a slip and slide for us. But again, this wasn’t an ordinary slip and slide, this was the world’s largest slip and slide. He used giant tarps and covered the backyard with them. We slipped and slid to our heart’s content.

One Spring we went for an Easter egg hunt in the backyard. But again, this wasn’t an ordinary hunt. There were eggs stuffed with candy, but there were also giant stuffed bunnies to find. I brought home a bunny bigger than myself that day. I never knew such a thing could exist.

My Uncle also like to play a variety of stringed instruments, and he would always grace us with a song or two on our visits. “The Unicorn” was a must. One day my mom said we were going to watch her brother play. And guess what? It was no ordinary jam session. We ended up in the streets of downtown Hartford watching my Uncle and his band, The Connecticut River Ramblers, play a show on stage. I’m grateful to him for the introduction to, and my appreciation of, Bluegrass music and live shows.

How wonderful to be a person who so easily makes life extraordinary for others.

Peace be with you, Uncle Dick. Time to go see those silly unicorns!

Everybody Loves A Parade

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Memorial Day is, of course, a time to reflect and mourn the loss of our fallen heroes, but to also celebrate what we have gained as a result of their service and sacrifices. Memorial Day has become the unofficial kickoff to summer with all of the cookouts, pool openings, and parades.

Throughout my childhood, on Memorial Day, my family and I would walk down our road to the town center to watch the annual parade. Most years, at least one of us was in the parade. Whether it was the marching band or the fyfe and drum corps, we’d meet with our group in the Geissler’s parking lot to warm up and line up.

That parade would always march to the town cemetery for the playing of Taps, the flag ceremony, and the gun salute, then on to the old middle school for speeches, and then back to the town center for the laying of the wreaths. It was a long, hot morning for those of us who marched, but we always felt proud to be a part of the day.

Actually, I always felt proud to be a part of any parade while marching with the fyfe and drum corps. We were the Marquis of Granby, and we were really good. We were known for our crisp uniforms and precise and serious presentations. We were also probably considered the ‘snobby’ fyfe and drum corps at musters, but we embraced it because we knew we were good, and that made us feel good and want to be even better. It’s laughable to think of a group of kids dressed in revolutionary war-time garb marching down the street as snobby when, in fact, we were actually a very silly group of kids. We just knew when to act right.

Marquis of Granby marching through the town center on Memorial Day

I loved being a part of that organization. We traveled all over the Northeast for parades and musters. Our leaders were great at supplementing our trips with other learning experiences, like whale watches, dinner theaters, and touring museums and churches. And even without the extras, it was a learning experience just to visit other places and witness the townsfolk celebrating whatever that particular parade was about. One of my favorites was the Blessing of the Fleet in Gloucester, MA. It was a very long parade, but it was along the coastline, and we stopped for a break at just about every church in town while the priests gave their blessings. At the end we’d get to witness the spectacle of the Greasy Pole contest, while costumed contestants would attempt to make their way to the end of a 45-foot telephone pole to grab a flag before falling into the water. Memorable, for sure.

If I had to guess, I’d say I marched in close to 100 parades with the corps over the few years I was a member. I’m not sure if that equals the 10,000 hours of practice that is required to achieve mastery, but I know that at 30 years later, I can still pick up my fyfe and play many of our songs by memory. I don’t march anymore, and maybe I just haven’t been looking close enough, but fife and drum corps don’t seem to be as popular down here in the south. Either way, I still love a parade, so I’m always up for going and watching all of the groups show what they know, as silly or as serious as they may be.

Sticking to the Plan

Jeanna GLeave a comment

Today is the two-year anniversary of my first blog post. I have enjoyed this more than I thought I would. I wrote more frequently when I first started, but that was during quarantine, so I can’t beat myself up too much about having less time to sit and write these days. Actually, I’ve enjoyed this so much, that I wish I could write for a living. But I digress.

On my blogiversary, I think it’s important to reflect and consider if I’ve been sticking to the original plan. In the beginning, I started the blog as a way to earn digital literacy credits to apply to my teaching license. I could have written about anything, but I figured I should write about something that I know a lot about, and could continue to write about in perpetuity. Well, I know a lot about myself. But I don’t think people want to read about me just for the sake of learning about me. So I asked myself how writing about myself could be beneficial to others. And that is when the plan began to take shape.

Not to brag, but I think I had a pretty great childhood. As a teacher (and a kind, idealistic human being), I think every person deserves to have a great childhood. But not everyone does. And that makes me very sad. So I thought, if I could share how I was able to enjoy my childhood, others could use that information to create the childhood they never had. Picture Phoebe on Friends. She did not have a great childhood, so she spent some time trying to experience what she thought she missed out on, like learning to ride a bike, and taking classes. She got these ideas by listening to others share their experiences.

And if readers also had a great childhood, then maybe they could just read my stories to reminisce and stir up happiness. An unexpected benefit of my blog is that writing has helped me to stir up happiness. Spending time thinking about things that made me happy at one point in my life has helped me to remember what I truly love, and who I really am. It’s surprising to find how far off course we can get in a life filled with detours and roadside attractions.

Either way, I think I’ve been sticking to the plan, and I hope it’s helped someone in some way. I don’t write to have a profound impact or to be the end-all solution to disappointing childhoods, but if I can put a smile on a few faces, then I think it’s worth going on Juvenescent Junkets for another year, and beyond.