Breakfast at Tiffany's

Hey, remember this line?

'No... the blues are because you're getting fat or because it's been raining too long. You're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?'
-Breakfast at Tiffany's

Long Day's Journey into 918

The blind piano tuner would make a house visit.
While he worked on the wires, keys and pedals my hand would rest on the wood and feel the vibrations of his testing tones.
Then the piano was ready.
She, wrapped in a turquoise tent, seated herself on the bench.
The heavy, rapturous, music began.
My hand tightened upon the curve of the wood.
I held on as the room spun.
My face pinned to hers.
Our emotions intertwined.
Losing my grip I fell away and spun out.
I-spun-out.

ellecoyote- getting into the site & posting?

I know Botz is having a hard time posting.
Maybe Anne is too?
Do you have any words of advice?
'Your little dogstar'

Hey Poet!

I am so thrilled you are joining our group blog! I can't wait to see your poetic posts!
LOVE YOU!

Welcome Tailora

Now we are complete.
The doors to 918 are open.
xoxo

Come in, come in!

Hey Botz, welcome to our blog! I look forward to seeing and reading your posts.

Welcome Botz

welcome to 918...
make yourself at home.
berta

Ghostie

Sherry used to portray "Ghostie" to me with a low strange voice deep in her throat. I did not really believe in Ghostie, but one day she said he was up in the attic. I went up there, to see someone in a sheet with red patent leather pumps sticking out of the bottom of it. I said, "That can't be Ghostie, he would never wear those shoes!" So the jig was up.

She Who Did

She Who Did

She who did bring me into this life
As a wee babe eyed me with scorn
I have survived a world of her strife
She who did bring me into this life
She was my Da’s shrew of a wife
Times I’d wished I’d ne’r been born
She who did bring me into this life
Filled me with lasting scorn

Peeking through the mail slot

Ooooh nice looking vertical cut & leaded glass above the mail slot. Let's see if I can peek into the vestibule...

Ellen at Five

Here I am in our dining room. I had had a "permanent" recently when this photo was taken, although as far as I know, I always had naturally wavy hair. In the 50s permanent waves were all the rage. It STUNK to high heaven! I loved wearing this outfit. I can remember it was really cool and fresh.

Nina Murray and I appear to be taking her dog for a walk in our nightgowns. This photo was probably taken around 1952 or so. We are on the front walk of 918 South Jackson, where I grew up.

Quilted Tents

In our backyard in the 1950s we had full-sized apple trees. If our parents had used a miscible oil spray, maybe we would have had apples to eat all year round, but they simply assumed the trees and apples could take care of themselves. Mom and Dad were not the most down-to-earth people I ever met, when it came to taking care of material things. (More about this on a later post LOL.)

ANYway . . . so the apples would fall from the trees in blankets of tiny green hard spheres, about the size of superballs. When we wanted to make tents in the backyard and sleep out overnight, we would try, in our inefficient child ways, to clear the way for our tent floor. Then we would lay down a thin cotton quilt on the grass, and with clothespins, we would attach two more cotton quilts to the clothesline. (I feel like I am relating an experience from the 1800s or something -- no one has clotheslines any more!) Then we would put pillows and more quilts into the "tent" and bring out snacks and a flashlight.

During the night we would hear the nightbirds (OH that sound, I wish I knew what those birds were), the coal docks, trains, crickets, bats, owls, and . . . the continual fall of MORE little green apples onto the tent!

Welcome 918 Family

My dear family, please come and post your
photos, poems, stories, jokes...
let's have fun in 918.