Share a fond childhood memory...

[Victoria]

What a beautiful thread idea, Doug!

Like your Dad's perfect pancakes, though a little less symmetrical, my father used to make the best graham cracker sandwiches, all gloopy and overflowing with butter and jelly. With sticky hands, we would sit on the porch every fall sharing a plate of them under the stars, waiting for a bat who roosted there to arrive each night. In 2014, I went back and was able to stay in the same house. One night, as my fiancé and I were sitting together on that porch, I was telling him about those days and a bat swooped low over us to land in the same place. I wondered (?) and wished him to be the same bat, but 32 years was probably a stretch!

I was sent to live with my grandparents early on, yet before and for some time just after that, traveled extensively with my father across the US. One of my favourite experiences with him was visiting a university in Louisiana that had an extraordinary mineral collection, its scintillating colours and textures were illuminated behind glass cases in long dark hallways. I spent hours there in awe and afterward, he took me to the leper colony at Carville. I was introduced to the remaining residents and stayed with them for a day or two hearing their stories while he was at training.

I remember so clearly feeling the heavy blanket of stifling humidity weigh down... sitting on white wicker furniture, cicadas singing endlessly and watching the Spanish Moss sway from the trees outside. Time seemed to pause. It was a location that "feels" like no other. For a shy little girl, the experience was life changing and amazing to be left alone there, listening to residents' memories of how leprosy had affected them and why they continued to stay at the facility even though they could leave.  (This is an old article, but it echoes similar experiences that I heard, while there: https://www.nytimes.com/1995/06/19/u...y-disease.html)

I was fascinated to learn about Storrs and Kirchheimer's work with armadillos, because my other favorite memory with my father, from around the same time, was taking part in and watching armadillo races at Kirtland. On that specific trip, we continued on to Pensacola Naval Air Station to see the Aviation museum, afterward. I have loved rock collections, armadillos and WWII planes ever since!

[amor]

Since my previous post was of animals (which could become a small book), I realized Doug wanted memories with our parents. I remember, after my father left for work in the morning, going into his room and sniffing his pajama top which my mother put on a hangar to air. I can only conclude that what I smelled was a ferrimone peculiar only to him. He never wore shaving scent, so it was not that, I loved him so much that I made a habit of doing this when he left for work. I had completely forgotten this.

Another memory of my father was my nickname for him and his for me. I called him Dads which came out as Doods which became his nickname for me. Another memory was of sitting on a cushion on the crossbar of his bicycle and being taken for a ride to the beach not too far away. I remember the excitement of one Christmas morning in particular, under the Christmas Tree. This was a Casuarina Branch decorated with Red Satin Balls made by my mother and tinsel ornaments. We went to the local corner of the beach with many Casuarina trees to find just the right branch for our tree. Needless-to-say, this was not in ready-made everything America.

On the subject of Christmas Trees, I was a junior in high school when I chose a large tree for our apartment and not only had to carry it home on foot by myself but trim it to fit into the floor to higher ceilings there. I have a picture of my parents taken hugging next to the tree for which I had purchased 5" orbs covered in old fashioned pictures. These could be opened to place candy or small gifts. With candle/bubble lights, fashionable that year, and other pretty decorations, it was a memorable time. My father played Christmas carols on the piano and we sang. The two parakeets which I frequently freed from their prison cage had a great time in the branches. I also remember the wonderful scenic Christmas Windows at the large Department Stores of Manhattan. Are those days gone forever???