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In Honor of a Lost Uncle
My father and all my uncles served in World War II. Daddy was a Lt. Colonel in the Army Air Force and my five uncles served in the Army. All of them came home but one, my Uncle Bill, my father’s...
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Size ‘Em Up
For 74 1/2 years, I’ve been accumulating impressions, stereotypes, prejudices and images in my mind, whether I know or like it or not. I’m a white woman who grew up in Oklahoma with a certain amount of...
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Pool Ponderings
Lazy summer days are meant for meandering thoughts. Mine came while squinting into the sun, looking for signs of my youngest granddaughter in the vast swimming pool. She’s almost 11, but I...
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When they were young…
These questions started with a notice from Ancestry.com that I had new information for my family tree. Ancestry is where you can get lost in searching all the branches, never knowing what you will...
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Miss Molly
I miss her. I miss Miss Molly. On her 9th birthday, I wrote a blog on Good Golly Miss Molly (her whole name) and that was well over six years ago. Now I had to let her go and it was so hard. But she...
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Little Sidekick
Thirteen years ago, I spotted her at a fall bazaar. She was the smallest of the litter and the only female pup waiting to be rescued. I already had a dog (Molly) and two cats (Mickey and Guy), but who...
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What I Learned as a Child
I was born in 1945 to parents who had ancesters who lived lives of comfort and struggle, wealth and poverty, in small towns and the country. My ancestry is pretty much from the British Isles with 33%...
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Gifts from the Garage
My only son, my youngest child of four, died ten years ago at the age of 35 after a long battle with cancer. He left us memories, his wonderful wife and his daughter, who was 15 months old. I’ve...
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Muhammed Ali & Sister James Ellen
The Ken Burns series, Muhammed Ali, reminds me of a family story about my cousin and Ali. I had heard this story through the years and had seen photos, but it really came home to me when I traveled to...
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VINT BROTHERS
WILLIAM MITCHELL VINT NOVEMBER 22, 1942-NOVEMBER 29, 2021 ALAN RICHARD VINT NOVEMBER 11, 1944-AUGUST 16, 2006 Bill Vint left Tulsa, Oklahoma to study acting in New York City under Stella Adler and Lee...
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My Wagon Yard Story (what is a wagon yard anyway?)
Tracking your family history is an amazing journey down so many trails leading to more names and places and mysteries that make us realize how our personal stories are intertwined with so many others...
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The Sport of Collecting
There’s a difference in hoarding and collecting. Hoarding, in my mind, is keeping things because you might use them some day. I do way too much of this and try to thin out the stuff every year. It’s a...
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The Reality of the “Good Old Days”
Born the end of 1945, I’m now almost 76 1/2 years old. That’s a lot of years to have watched people and events in the world, although I learn new things every single day. The observations here are...
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Life’s Chapters
The problem with thinking of life in chapters is that there has to be a last one. Who wants to think about that? I’ve just been pondering where I am, following the quiet years of COVID-19 where I was...
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Puppy
When I lost my 15, almost 16, year old Labradoodle Molly over a year ago, I really grieved. She was such a good girl. Well, most of the time she was. I overlooked the barking and digging and taking...
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Cooking for the Holidays
In my family, we all bring different dishes for holiday meals so nobody has to do the entire meal plus get their house and table ready. That’s one of the nice things about having grown children. It’s...
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“The Hickory Limb”
As a child, I often visited my grandparents’ homes and stayed for awhile since they lived in Oklahoma City and Ardmore and we were in Tulsa. There wasn’t a lot to do in the days before there was much...
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The Little Children
Recently, I came across this children’s book first published in 1929. I recognized the illustrator’s work from books I had as a child and started looking through it. The author’s note inside tells the...
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A House
Driving down a familiar street on a hot summer day, I was hit with a wave of memories of summers past. Once they started, it was hard to stop them. We moved to Tulsa sometime in 1948. I was about 2...
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