Begin Again Finnegan ---Garden Notes – February 22 through March 5, 1975

Bollman House

Try not to be too shocked by what I am about to tell you, but here’s the thing…I changed my mind. This is not similar to “of all the things I’ve lost I miss my mind the most”.  It’s more along the “nothing as constant as change” lines.

When I started the blog I vowed to keep the garden notes in the chronological order in which they were handwritten in Mary & Otto Bollman’s notebook, which began with March 1974.
  But I’m over that.  I am skipping ahead to February 1975 so I can post notes that [loosely] coincide with the current dates.

 

Meanwhile, Look what I found in my garden today. Not a great picture but look closely and you'll see my volunteer lettuces. They are among the volunteer dead leaves and volunteer “ground cover”.  I will concede that while the ground cover is not altogether unsightly, it is of the not-exactly-a-weed-but-not-exactly-what-I-wanted-to-grow-there species.  This is February 21, a cool day following several balmy days - preceded by a long, bitterly cold brutal winter.  Tonight the temperature is supposed to dip so we will see how long the lettuces last.

 Garden Notes – February 22 through March 5, 1975

Things are still pretty quiet in the Bollman garden but very few days go by without some prep work . On February 25 Otto planted tomatoes and peppers.  I think it's safe to assume this means seeds.  I remember they had a cold frame behind the back porch, handmade by Otto of course; that may be where seedlings were started in February.  I know they brought geraniums and other flowering plants indoors to winter over in the basement but so far haven't found any references to where or how they cared for seedlings before setting them out in the garden. On March 5 they dug 3 lbs. of carrots.  Reading back a few pages, they also dug carrots on December 10 but I don't know when the carrots were planted. Granted, some December & January pages are hard to read because they are written alternately in red or green ink, 2-sided on thin pages so the ink bled through. Planting had to be before the ground froze, but did they stay there all winter and not freeze? Did some freeze and these were the superior strain who survived? Let's hear it for the strained carrots!!!

Without further ado I will leave you with the March 1, 1975 words of Mary Bollman:

Real Lion’s Entrance for March- HA!
Weatherman said it would be nice, warm & sunny. HA!

Saturday, February 22, 1975 - Temp 35 - 55

Rained all day and very dark. Otto fixed the lamp and weeded flowers.  Did hand washing, etc. Gave Otto a hair cut. Thundered and lightning.

Sunday, February 23  - Temp 30 – 32

Dark & drizzle and at 6:30 it is freezing rain or very fine snow as it looks foggy & the cars and ground are getting white.

Monday, February 24  - Temp 25 – 30

Snowing  We shoveled this A.M. Cleaned book case with horses. Watered flowers. Got out boysenberries (frozen).

Tuesday, February 25  - Temp 28 – 45

Snow melting with the beautiful sunny day. Very windy. Moved the car and did a little hand washing. Otto pruned and planted all kinds of tomatoes and sweet hot peppers.

Wednesday, February 26  - Temp 29 – 43

Sunny all day mostly. Went to stay with Ruth while moving. Otto dug compost behind house.

Thursday, February 27  - Temp 44 – 22

Sunny most of day. Cleaned dresser & Otto cut down tree in flowering quince. At last he got to it!!

Friday, February 28 – Temp 33 – 27

Sunny & Cool. Went shopping and Otto fixed bench.  Broke up mulberry tree for beams.  I cleaned house & ice box.  He painted bench.

Saturday, March 1, 1975 – Temp 25 – 39

We awoke with snow covering the ground. Beautiful day it was. It was still snowing and had a little snow flower shower during P.M. Otto cleaned alley of leaves & Boysenberry vines. Lovely behind the wall.  Real Lion’s Entrance for March- HA! Weatherman said it would be nice, warm & sunny. HA!

Sunday, March 2 – Temp 18 – 30

Felt cold with the little breeze. Went to church. Came home to chicken dinner and stayed.

Monday, March 3 – Temp 16 – 30

Sunny but cool. We washed and hung in the basement. Excell-Avery & Mr. Kausch came for tuckpointing estimates.

Tuesday, March 4 – Temp 17 – 41

Sunny & cool most of day. In evening seemed warmer. Went to vote. Cleaned street and trying to fill holes on curb. Cleaned the car. Also on business we went. Dug up bricks, too. Raked along north side of gate.

Sunday, March 5 – Temp 28 – 59

Sunny most of the day. I dusted all the walls & ceilings. Otto washed dishes & got dinner. A.M. Otto & I got outside. He dug dirt & filled up places. I found part of the garden dry enough to start spading. Dug all carrots, about 3 lbs.

Time to turn in...again...Finnegan.  Nighty Nite.

 

WHAT I KNOW

Leonard, Frances
Marvin, Marilin, Arthur

I should have said “What They Said – Aloud and A LOT”

 

Frances, my Mom: 

Her mantra was “The Lord Will Provide”

My brother Arthur and I, chronically broke and frequently bored, were not above poking fun at her – behind her back. We would exchange pathetic anecdotes about the depths of our poverty, the jobs we just lost, the depths of depravity to which humanity had sunk, then declare “but Girl [or Honey], the Lord Will Provide”…UNTIL…..

One day Arthur was getting out of my car in front of his apartment when an apparently homeless man approached and politely asked if we could spare $1 or even some change; he offered his wristwatch in exchange.  $1 or less at that time would actually have bought a meal. I was flat broke, Arthur was down to his last $3.00, but being Arthur he gave it all to the man and said “keep your watch, this is a gift”.  The man got teary-eyed, insisted we take the watch and Arthur vowed to keep an eye out and return the watch to its owner some day. Neither of us ever saw him again and I still have that watch, although my brother passed from this world many years ago.

Next Day:  Arthur opened his mailbox and found an envelope containing $3.00 cash – from our Mother.  Signed, Sealed and put into the mailbox the day before, probably about the time we were talking to the watch guy.
P.S.  We stopped making fun of her.  Yeah, we still said the Lord will provide, but we said it with a lot more reverence. Our brother Marvin always claimed that it was a hot watch, so of course the guy wanted to unload it, but to us that was neither here nor there. 

 

Fast Forward a couple years.  We needed a new source of mild amusement and Mom’s habit of doing things in 3’s provided it.  For instance…if we asked for cookies she would give us each 3, never more never less.  Arthur concluded that it was a religiously symbolic thing.  I concluded that he was nuts and it was because we never had enough of anything to dish out more than 3.

3 cookies, 3 bucks, 3 mills. 

Mills (correct spelling was probably milles but not in South St. Louis). Mills were plastic currency worth 1/1000 of a dollar.  In other words, if you “broke” a penny you got 10 mills.  Arthur’s 3 mills were a sore point, literally. He used them for tax on the bowls of chili he bought for lunch for 25¢ - or less - at the neighborhood store catty-cornered from Humboldt School.  Chili was served in a real bowl and taken outdoors to eat, at the proprietors’ insistence.  The store was very small and the chili line was out the door and around the corner every school day. Arthur got to go because he was a Big Kid.  Being a Little Kid, I did not. Little Kids could not cross streets without a big hand to hold.  Once, Mom ordered him to take me along.  He did it under protest and got even by making me share his chili (1 bite) instead of buying me the baloney sammich I was screaming for. Like all Big Kids, Arthur kept his lunch loot in his penny loafers. A penny, maybe two, occupied the coin slot on top; the rest resided inside his argyle socks and he walked on them till lunchtime. You thought those slots on loafers were just for decoration, didn’t you?

Leonard, my Dad:  “Write About What You Know”

Everyone’s parents said “Stick to What You Know” but Dad tailored his version specifically for me.  I don’t remember what I was writing when I first heard it, most likely it was a class assignment to write a piece of fiction - or, as Dad called it - “fairy tales”.  Dad didn’t believe in fiction unless it came in a book with an orange binding bearing the words “by Zane Grey”.  What I do remember is Dad’s tone of voice, best described as vehement, no-nonsense, borderline stern but directed more towards the teacher than the pupil.  He didn’t hold with telling a pupil to write any doggoned fairy tale; they should writing about what they know! I wish I could tell you that this spurred me on to write the Great American Non-Novel but as you can see, it did not.

Awhile afterwards I did write a pretty doggoned good book report, though. A biography of FDR, an assignment given to me by my Dad.  That was odd in itself, since he and FDR did not see eye-to-eye.  For my Dad the fun had gone out of taking me, too frequently, to the Soulard Branch Library. He decided that I was skimming, not reading. When Miss Schicker, my 3^rd grade teacher told my parents that I devour books like most kids devour candy they were proud, but it seemed to strengthen Dad's resolve to put me to the test.  Next library day he allowed me to choose my own books but insisted on a look-see (that's a Leonard quote) before  checking out.  At home he announced that I was to read the biography first, give it to him for safekeeping then write a book report. My reward, should I do well on my assignment, was his promise to stop moaning about trips to the library.  DID IT.  He not only approved, but took it to Miss Schicker, his way of  saying "you were right, she does really read that stuff" (not a Leonard quote).

Well, I Mean....

What did he expect the day he took me to Soulard for my first library card?  It was the very day I became old enough to qualify. He took me by the hand and together we ascended the majestic stairway. I believe the heavens opened and choirs of angels sang us up the stairs. At the top we stood face-to-face with massive sculptured library lions. CATS, can this day get any better?  Inside, he presented me to the Head Librarian and said "she wants a library card". 

Fast Forward a Few Years:

By high school my long-time friend Jan commented that she had never heard my Dad laugh. I didn’t understand that because I heard him laugh all the time. I countered by telling Jan that maybe she is not as funny as she thinks she is. She said “no, I mean he never goes Ha Ha Ha, it’s always a single HA!”  Well, she got me there. 

She also commented on how weird it was that Dad would drop a letter in the mailbox, close the little door then open it again to make sure the letter went down.  I took offense at that one because we ALL did it.  I still do.  Especially on a rainy day when the mail might have gotten hung up on a wet surface.  At mailboxes with no little door, there’s no harm in giving it a push on the way down, is there?  I figure if I don’t it might get hung up on the mail version of a roadblock down below.  We are masters of overkill in this family.

Well, I am getting tired, my cataracts are acting up and my cats are acting weird so that’s about it for tonight.

If you are my children, you have already heard all this stuff ad nauseum so I hope you didn’t waste time by reading it all again.  HA!   

Bears, Bags, Blooms, Bits? What Does It All Mean?

The Desk Bears

Sock Bags

Moonflowers on Wishing Well

Not much - just that the blog is going in another direction....
NO DIRECTION.

Bears, Bags  Blooms, especially the blooms, are staying, but I'm throwing in whatever else is on my mind. A little this 'n' that, flotsam & jetsam,blathering & blithering,blarney & baloney, barbs & blab ---

You know.....Bits