With today's economy, we too have pulled in the purse strings and are now only buying what we need.  Gone is wasteful and useless spending.  Having grown up on the brink of the big spending boom, I have reflected back to those years and made the discovery how little one really needs.  I look around my own home and think "God, why did we buy all this stuff?"  We worked so hard to obtain what we have and now I ask "WHY?"  I kid my better half saying that now I could be happy living in a one room shack--with a clean bed, a coffee pot, a pile of books and a helluva good beach chair (preferably in Hawaii).  Our home is lovely and comfortable.  My closets are stuffed with clothes and beautiful high-heeled shoes and handbags.  My jewelry boxes are jammed packed.  I am grateful for my treasures (thank you Jeff) but have made the discovery that I really could have done without.  

I thought back to the days when I was growing up.   My Mom handled the family finances and did a remarkable job.  Mom only allowed us to have what we needed, not what we wanted.  It was difficult for me at times when my friends had so much more and I was so envious.  But now, looking back, it just wasn't so bad after all.

I had a close girlfriend who was an only child and her parents were well off.  Needless to say, she was spoiled and had the best of everything.  Every season, she required a totally new wardrobe as "you can't wear something for more than one season.'" And, every season, I couldn't wait to buy her "old" wardrobe from her.  It afforded me a much larger wardrobe because of her low prices, and the clothing was made of quality materials and I was a happy kid with that.  I bought everything from her, winter coats to swimsuits, and then, I too had the best.  As for shoes, my Mom insisted on new shoes.  Having a narrow foot shoes commanded higher prices, so I was given the choice "a pair for dress or a pair for school".  Most of the time, my choice was white bucks or saddle shoes.

I can remember when Scotch tartan plaid "reversible" skirts came out in the late 50's.  The skirts were made of a high quality, lightweight, woolen fabric and were beautiful.  They were stitched down at the hips a few inches thus matching up the plaid accordingly -one side showed the dark side and the reverse side showed the light side (rich chocolate brown and light taupe).  They were $60.00 and my friend had five.  I begged (and I mean really begged) my Mom for just one.  We went to the store and she was so indignant about paying  $60.00 for one skirt.  Nothing mattered but the price tag.  So she gave me an option-I could have two $30.00 cheap reversible skirts or none.  I took the two skirts but hated them.  The other skirt, I would have worn forever.

I remember when we went on vacations and drove to North Bay, Ontario.  We stopped to eat at family restaurants (no fast foods then) and we all chose our meals basically by the price--this afforded us the ability to have more money for something else.  There were no credit cards either and the cash had to last for everyone for a week.

In the later years we went to Florida on my Dad's CNR passes and we would get around Miami and Miami Beach via public transportation.  It was just a given and rental cars were not an option.  We stayed at a nice small hotel on the beach that had a "kitchenette" so we could save money by preparing our own food.  My Mom always stretched a dollar as far as it would go.  For entertainment, we occasionally sprang for a round of miniature golf but basically, it was the beach.  My dad would wake me just before sunrise so we could go to the shore and see what gifts the sea deposited for us during the night.  We would find sea creatures, towels and lots of bathing cap straps.  It was like a treasure hunt and we sure had fun. 

I also remember Saturday nights at home.  We made it a special night for TV.  Mom would go to our local A&P Grocery store, and our treat for the night was a 29-cent bag of Jane Parker Potato Chips.  Back then, it was a large bag and we couldn't wait to share the treat.  Our TV was a very small screen in a big box--where the horizontal lines would jump up and down until Dad adjusted the antennae.   We didn't watch much TV as Dad worried about burning out the tube, so it was special when we did. 

As for the purchase of our TV, Dad went "Over the River" (Niagara Falls, NY) for forty-eight hours.  If you spent the allotted time, you were allowed to bring back a certain dollar amount duty free.  We had friends there, so he had free lodging.  He purchased our "new" TV from a used appliance store.  Before we had our own TV, we would sometimes stand outside our local appliance store to watch their TV in the window.

As for my spoiled girlfriend--they had a TV as soon as they were available.  Her parents were like second parents to myself and about six other kids.  Of course, their house was our hub for a lot of reasons.  We had half of the basement to play in; we had old costumes from a dance studio to put on our own recitals; a portion of the yard to plant flowers and then we would charge others to get into "our garden" and lots of other things.  Her Dad took us on hikes, tobogganing (even pulling us behind his car) and he kept us all busy.  They were generous providing lunches etc for us too.  They enjoyed us as much as we enjoyed and loved them.  Her Dad always referred to us as "Boys."  Part of the "boys" yearly routine was to go to a certain area and gather black walnuts.  We would gather bushels full and then take them back to his house and spread them all over the yard to dry.  After they dried, we had the job of removing the shriveled skins from the walnuts.  Every year I went home with pitch black hands stained by the walnuts and Mom would cuss him out but I didn't care.   Hey, it was fun.  Then in the winter, prior to watching "I Remember Mama" and "Kukla, Fran and Ollie" on TV her Dad would say "OK boys, lets go" and we would all march down to the basement, sit in a circle (in our own little chairs) with him in the middle.  He had an anvil and a hammer and would crack us each about ten walnuts and drop them into our little baskets.  Then we would all scurry upstairs, sit in a line on the floor in front of the couch to watch TV and eat our treats that we had gathered earlier that year.

Mom walked everywhere to pay the bills in person.   She saved money by not taking the bus and having to purchase postage stamps.  I don't ever remember her having a checking account back then.

Dad would ride his bike to work thus saving miles on the car and gas.  Dad also did his own maintenance and repair work on our car, house, etc.  Like he would say in later years, "times were tough and if you didn't know how to do something, then you learned."  Dad paid no one to do anything as he did it himself.

Our other forms of entertainment were friends and family gatherings.  They took turns playing cards at each other's home. The kids would eventually fall asleep on the couch until it was time to leave.  At midnight the host would supply a small luncheon consisting of all homemade goodies.  They would talk and laugh until the wee hours of the morning.  Sundays were usually reserved for family visits--someone was always dropping by and Mom always prepared a special Sunday dinner.  Homemade pies always finished off the event.  The aroma of homemade pies, cakes, cookies always perpetuated our home.  The importance in our life then was family and friends, not our worldly possessions and life was so much less complicated.  How I wish at times that we could go back to this simple life.

When I was growing up, I viewed our life as being "Poor" and that we just weren't as lucky as some people, especially my spoiled girlfriend.   I was envious of her and some of my other "privileged" classmates.  However, now with today's economy, I look back with a different kind of envy and I think to myself "Ya know--that wasn't such a bad way to live after all."  At this age, I now look at my early years as being wealthy--leaving me priceless memories.  We too have now reverted to buying what we need and not what we want and I find it rather refreshing.

My Father's family arrived in Canada via steamship from England in 1911.  My Scotch Grandmother was six months pregnant with my Dad.  In tow were two small lads, Grandma's mother, and my Grandfather. With my Grandfather being an ex-Royal Navy man (HMS Tamar), I often wondered why they didn't wait to sail on the majestic, unsinkable Titanic a year later in 1912.  Grandma's mother often chided her that she was just "too bloody cheap", suggesting that she took the opportunity to make the passage while pregnant with my father to save paying an additional fare for him.

My father's dad raised champion Spaniels and sailed the Great Lakes aboard the "lakers".  After a night of drinking with his favorite drinking buddy, a doctor no less, my grandpa died from self-induced poisoning.  He figured my grandma had stashed his whiskey in an old brown Lysol bottle and drank it.   She called Doc when she realized something was wrong and his response was "ah just let him sleep it off."  He never woke from this sleep leaving behind a wife and four boys. 

To help his Mother and brothers, Dad went out on the "lakers" at the age of 16 aboard the New York News and the Chicago Tribune shoveling coal to provide power to run the big ships that plied the Great Lakes.  We lived in St. Catharines, Ontario where the Welland Canal joins Lake Ontario with Lake Erie, essentially carrying boats over Niagara Falls (Niagara Escarpment).  The ships ascend or descend 280 feet via eight locks between the lakes.  Shipping was a way of life for many people in our community.

After Dad met my Mother, it was he who introduced Mom to her own Father. Her dad had left his family when Mom was an infant and his whereabouts were unknown. My Mother had always assumed her father was dead.  Dad realized that a shipmate had the same last name as my Mother as well as a familial resemblance. Through his curiosity my Dad discovered this man was indeed my Mother's father. 

Dad grew up always proud of what he had done and of what he was doing.  He had a great sense of humor, pride, love of life, and a thirst for knowledge that wouldn't quit. He had mastered woodworking skills, home repairs and remodeling, and taking the car's engine apart to clean it.  He left the ships to be home with our family and turned to trucking. Eventually, he went with the CNR railroad for twenty years shuttling local freight between the paper mills, General Motors, and the fruit farms throughout southern Ontario.  As a youngster, I spent many of my summer days riding along on the train after delivering lunch to Dad.  My love of trains is still strong to this day.

My brother and I were very fortunate growing up with two wonderful parents. 

As I reflect on my Dad's upbringing, it is remarkable that here was a man who had no good role models in his own life but mastered being a great Dad himself.  My dad instilled in us a great work ethic, honesty, and love of nature, strong family ties, and fun.  Our lives were full of "free" things.  We had a perpetual ice rink in our back yard for the duration of the winter.  Dad monitored it in such a way that everyone had fun.  Little kids had priority immediately after school and would then relinquish their rights to the older kids and a couple of rough games of hockey.  The evenings were reserved for the adults and Dad thought it was great having the old RCA radio hooked up outside to supply skating music.

The summers were filled with outings, picnics and evenings at the beach (Lake Ontario) four miles away.  The beach was a great place to simonize the old '39 Plymouth, which was his pride and joy.  The neighbors would round up the kids and we would head to the beach.  We had lots of fun swimming, etc. and when darkness fell, we toasted Marshmallows by a campfire.  The kids would fall asleep under the stars and the adults took to "talking stupid" until the wee hours of the morning. 

Sundays were always reserved for a ride in the country or visiting family and friends.  We had two good-sized families and everything was celebrated together.  My dad's side would get a little hectic as the boys were always playing tricks on their mother and all of the grandkids would contribute in some way.

Even though dad's formal years of education were lacking, he always strived to better himself.  He was an avid reader, always listened to the radio and loved to talk to people in all walks of life.  We would tease him about his pronunciation of words but it didn't faze him.  For example, he was talking at the dinner table about the "jew di cal" system.  We teased him re the pronunciation of judicial.  His response was "what's the problem--you knew what I was talking about" as he carried on.

I don't ever remember my dad being angry and I was fortunate that he loved my mother dearly.  Nor do I remember my parents ever fighting.  That was terrific but, as a therapist once told me, I lacked confrontation skills because of it.  That's ok though--I had a childhood that I am so thankful for and wouldn't trade for the world and my memories are priceless.

My parents moved to Ft. Lauderdale Florida (after several vacations compliments of CNR railroad passes) and had a very happy and fulfilling life until they passed away--dad in '86 and mom in 2002 and brother in 2003.  He related to my husband Jeff just what a lucky man he was, as he had done everything in life that he had ever wanted to do.  I miss them terribly and when they died, part of me died too.

My dad left me with an important legacy.  He became friends with Ray Kroc (founder of McDonalds), a friendship that was initiated by my Father who was employed to clean Mr. Kroc's carpets.  Mr. Kroc always invited Dad to eat and to sit with him for sometimes lengthy chats -  a habit that used to drive his co-worker (my brother) crazy.   After his many visits at Mr. Kroc's home in Fort Lauderdale (complete with Golden Arches flag), dad would come home with many stories about their conversations, celebrities basking in the sun by the pool, etc.  I asked dad one time "Dad don't you feel inferior to Ray?"  He quickly responded with "Hell No, he's no better than I am-he just had better opportunities. Besides, I've always been satisfied that I have received anything and everything I've ever wanted or needed. Life is good!"  His response didn't do much for me at the time, but as I grew older, I realized just how wise and what a great man my dad was.  This Man is MY HERO.

I have been a silent bystander for several months enjoying the blogs and comments.  Needless to say, I have learned a great deal.  I have been content being "silent" but at the urging of my better half (Sleepinjeezus--SJ) I have decided to take the plunge and be part of TPM.

I have finally gotten the courage to participate mainly because you people seem so friendly and forgiving.  I need the "forgiveness" due to the fact that I feel my writing skills are not the greatest.  In the past, I have been very comfortable allowing SJ to be in the drivers seat (in more ways than one).  However, SJ has never been one to criticize one for anything and has always been encouraging regardless. 

I grew up in Canada, twelve miles from Niagara Falls.  At the age of 21, my parents decided to move to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, after visiting for vacation on a number of occasions.  After living there two years, I decided to move back north and settled in Hamburg, NY near Buffalo.  After 17 years of marriage and a subsequent divorce, it was there, during a blizzard that SJ almost ran me off the road in his orange "Pumpkin."  I was a long way from my home in the far north side of Buffalo, and after a few apologies from SJ on the CB, we engaged in a pleasant conversation during the hour and half ride that should have taken 15 minutes.  My girlfriend happened to be the Night Auditor at an Inn in my hometown where SJ always stayed.  A few weeks later, she called and said, "Someone is here looking for you."  That was the start of our relationship - convened over a cup of coffee - that ultimately led to my two children and myself moving  to Madison WI to become a family with SJ and his three children.  We are now celebrating our 25^th Anniversary this summer and have eleven grandchildren.

I was never afforded the luxury of even considering going to college in Canada.  In my hometown, it was available only to those who had well-to-do parents.  So, that let me out.  It always bothered me especially when I moved to the States and learned that almost everyone went to college.   So at an advanced age, I decided to go back to school.  I was scared to death but soon discovered that at our local Tech College, the evening classes consisted of half young students and the other half older students.  In a couple of my classes, I became the class Mom and that was fun.  I chose Liberal Arts and to my surprise, was able to make the Dean's List each semester for two years.  My intention was to transfer to UW.  After a conversation with a school counselor mapping out my future, I discovered the very next day that Jeff and I were about to become parents to our nine-month old grandson.  So, my schooling had to be put on the back burner (with the exception of several computer classes.)  Raising Jordan has been fun and we have thoroughly enjoyed it.  Jordan will be a senior next year and will go on to college.

So, with this information in mind, please bear with me in the future. I look forward to posting and sharing with you ideas and comments as they occur to me as being appropriate for these pages in TPM.

I am always open for suggestions and look forward to continuing my reading of the various bloggers here. I have one of the best, SJ, to critique my writing before posting but he is hardly without bias. Thank you all in advance, and let the dialogue begin!

Sincerely,

Joaneliz