Every year the sisters would organize a festival for the entire month of May in honor of the Virgin Mary. There was always a May Queen ... I have no idea how she was chosen, but she and a boy (the May King??) got to head up the procession to a large outdoor statue of Mary, and we sang devotional songs all the way.
Each of us was encouraged to make a May Altar, with a statue of the Virgin and flowers, and of course to pray to her especially often. I can't recall when during the month we had the procession. The boys wore suits or sports jackets, and the girls wore white, ruffly, layered sheer dresses, and all the girls wore circlets of flowers in their hair.
My mother said I was too tall to wear frilly dresses, and she had me wear a plain white dress that had"tailored" lines. She also insisted that I did not need florist's flowers for my May headdress, so she picked lilies of the valley from our garden and wove them into a dainty wreath. They grew on the north side of the house, and I loved them, but I was mortified to wear a "homemade" wreath on my head!
Friday, May 26, 2006
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
St. John's and Capelle's
From the time I was 6 years old I attended St. John the Evangelist grade school, with the exception of 7th grade (another story altogether).
St. John's was built along the lines of Spanish missions, with red clay tile roofs and ochre stone walls on the school, possibly limestone. The church itself had grey stone walls though. We were taught by Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondolet. Our sisters lived behind the school. In between the school and the church was a square house where Monsignor lived. Looking back it seems odd that they chose Spanish style architecture, since this was the "French" parish. The Irish Parish was across the river, St. Patrick's, and Sts. Peter and Paul was for some other ethnic group.
Each classroom had ceilings that may have been more than 12 feet in height. When I gazed out the tall windows I could watch the trees, the birds and the sky. The interior hallway was dim, and faced with glazed tilework. the four lower grades were on the first floor as I recall, and the four upper grades upstairs.
Boys and girls were segregated. The boys sat on one side of the classrooms and the girls on another. We girls were sent to the back of the school for recess, to a blacktop space where we could play "Red Rover Come Over", or "Dodge Ball" or jump rope.
The boys had an entire small block to play in, across the street from the school. They could play football or softball, and their play space had grass and dirt to run around on. It was four times the size of the girls' space.
Every morning, we attended 8:00 AM Mass with the sisters. We had fasted from midnight on, as was the rule in Catholicism at that time, so that we could take communion. Naturally, after Mass, we ran over to Capelle's store, which was across the street to the side of the church, to buy "Long Johns". Long Johns were rectangular raised doughnuts with white or chocolate frosting on top. They frequently had bubbles on the top of the crust, and they were delectable. Capelle's also had bearclaws, doughnuts, cinnamon rolls, and if I remember correctly, caramel rolls.
Alongside the baked goods, they offered candy. Square Pan pipes made of orange wax, wax lips, wax buck teeth, candy dots on long strips of white paper, stick candy in many flavors, licorice whips and other delights. One of my favorites was the "flapjack", which was a huge sucker with swirled colors that would look good on a tie-dyed tee shirt. It was flavored with lemon, and had a texture that was in between hard candy and chewy candy. mmmmmmmmmmmmm
Of course they had candy cigarettes, tootsie rolls, bit-o-honeys and rootbeer barrels. With this sort of breakfast, I do not know how we made it to lunch without low blood sugar and depression.
St. John's was built along the lines of Spanish missions, with red clay tile roofs and ochre stone walls on the school, possibly limestone. The church itself had grey stone walls though. We were taught by Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondolet. Our sisters lived behind the school. In between the school and the church was a square house where Monsignor lived. Looking back it seems odd that they chose Spanish style architecture, since this was the "French" parish. The Irish Parish was across the river, St. Patrick's, and Sts. Peter and Paul was for some other ethnic group.
Each classroom had ceilings that may have been more than 12 feet in height. When I gazed out the tall windows I could watch the trees, the birds and the sky. The interior hallway was dim, and faced with glazed tilework. the four lower grades were on the first floor as I recall, and the four upper grades upstairs.
Boys and girls were segregated. The boys sat on one side of the classrooms and the girls on another. We girls were sent to the back of the school for recess, to a blacktop space where we could play "Red Rover Come Over", or "Dodge Ball" or jump rope.
The boys had an entire small block to play in, across the street from the school. They could play football or softball, and their play space had grass and dirt to run around on. It was four times the size of the girls' space.
Every morning, we attended 8:00 AM Mass with the sisters. We had fasted from midnight on, as was the rule in Catholicism at that time, so that we could take communion. Naturally, after Mass, we ran over to Capelle's store, which was across the street to the side of the church, to buy "Long Johns". Long Johns were rectangular raised doughnuts with white or chocolate frosting on top. They frequently had bubbles on the top of the crust, and they were delectable. Capelle's also had bearclaws, doughnuts, cinnamon rolls, and if I remember correctly, caramel rolls.
Alongside the baked goods, they offered candy. Square Pan pipes made of orange wax, wax lips, wax buck teeth, candy dots on long strips of white paper, stick candy in many flavors, licorice whips and other delights. One of my favorites was the "flapjack", which was a huge sucker with swirled colors that would look good on a tie-dyed tee shirt. It was flavored with lemon, and had a texture that was in between hard candy and chewy candy. mmmmmmmmmmmmm
Of course they had candy cigarettes, tootsie rolls, bit-o-honeys and rootbeer barrels. With this sort of breakfast, I do not know how we made it to lunch without low blood sugar and depression.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
The Garage
Our neighborhood was composed of older houses. Ours had been built around 1900 or so, and several of the surrounding houses were of that age or maybe even a little older. There of course were no houses older than the Wisconsin, which became a state in 1848 (if I remember correctly), but compared to some of the houses, ours was considered old.
Although later Mom and Dad put in an overhead door which operated by a rope, early on our garage had enormous wooden doors on two sides. The doors slid open sideways on metal wheels that ran on tracks above the doors. I asked Dad why there were doors on both sides, and he said it was because the garage had been a stable for horses and for storing carriages. I did not really know how that would necessitate doors on both sides, but ok.
As soon as he told me that, I wanted to get a horse. We had only one car, and therefore, room for a horse! Dad was clearly horrified at the prospect, but I swore I would take care of it. I did not really take care of Gypsy, so I guess I was deceiving myself. At any rate, we never did get a horse.
Our driveway was shared with the next-door neighbors. When I was very young the driveway was composed of gravel. When it rained, there were nice puddles in the ruts. I would make islands of gravel and popsicle-stick houses on the islands. In the summer, those puddles were warm and grey.
Between the two garages was a narrow alleyway, about the width of a grownup. There was a metal pipe that stuck up from the ground at one end. If a child were not careful, he or she could be running full tilt through that alleyway and trip on that pipe, to crash on the ground. It happened to me many times. There was gravel between the garages and the space between the roofs dripped so that there was a little V shape in the gravel. It was always cool, dim and moist in that area.
Inside the garage were all sorts of rusting objects. There were glass jars of rusting nails, usually bent, which we could straighten with hammers and use for various projects. There were old flowerpots with spiderwebs on them, a tool bench that was never used in my memory, and the iron lawn furniture. Later Mom and Dad had the backyard landscaped, and they got rid of that old furniture and replaced it with some that had nylon mesh seating, which then rested in the garage during the winters also.
Although later Mom and Dad put in an overhead door which operated by a rope, early on our garage had enormous wooden doors on two sides. The doors slid open sideways on metal wheels that ran on tracks above the doors. I asked Dad why there were doors on both sides, and he said it was because the garage had been a stable for horses and for storing carriages. I did not really know how that would necessitate doors on both sides, but ok.
As soon as he told me that, I wanted to get a horse. We had only one car, and therefore, room for a horse! Dad was clearly horrified at the prospect, but I swore I would take care of it. I did not really take care of Gypsy, so I guess I was deceiving myself. At any rate, we never did get a horse.
Our driveway was shared with the next-door neighbors. When I was very young the driveway was composed of gravel. When it rained, there were nice puddles in the ruts. I would make islands of gravel and popsicle-stick houses on the islands. In the summer, those puddles were warm and grey.
Between the two garages was a narrow alleyway, about the width of a grownup. There was a metal pipe that stuck up from the ground at one end. If a child were not careful, he or she could be running full tilt through that alleyway and trip on that pipe, to crash on the ground. It happened to me many times. There was gravel between the garages and the space between the roofs dripped so that there was a little V shape in the gravel. It was always cool, dim and moist in that area.
Inside the garage were all sorts of rusting objects. There were glass jars of rusting nails, usually bent, which we could straighten with hammers and use for various projects. There were old flowerpots with spiderwebs on them, a tool bench that was never used in my memory, and the iron lawn furniture. Later Mom and Dad had the backyard landscaped, and they got rid of that old furniture and replaced it with some that had nylon mesh seating, which then rested in the garage during the winters also.
The Field
Behind Foth's house, next to our backyard, was "the field". There the grass got really tall in the summertime, and we would create tunnels through it, with the grass bending above us to form a sort of roof. We had a whole maze going through it. I enjoyed being a jungle cat there. It was a meeting place for all the children on the block. We played all sorts of imaginative games; Tarzan, cowboys and lots of hide and seek. When the grass was finally cut at the end of each summer, we were terribly disappointed. Then we would play softball there, so it was not too bad that way either. It was surrounded by backyards, and felt like our own territory.
One evening when I was about 12 or so, I was down by the railroad tracks in my pink striped blouse and bermuda shorts with my friend Carol. An older boy appeared and started to talk with us. He seemed nice. He let me ride on his shoulders for a while. It started to get dark, and I said I was going home. He said he would walk me home. On the way, I asked him what his last name was. He had told me his first name already. He said his last name was Anheuser. I knew that had to be a lie, it was the name of the brewers of Budweiser beer.
I became really alert then. We got to a point where I could cross Porlier Street and cut through the field, or go around the corner and down the sidewalk to the front of our house. I decided to cut through. He offered to walk me the rest of the way, but I said no. I ran across and into the darkness of the field. I hid under the lilac bush and watched in case he had followed me. No one came, so I went home, relieved.
One evening when I was about 12 or so, I was down by the railroad tracks in my pink striped blouse and bermuda shorts with my friend Carol. An older boy appeared and started to talk with us. He seemed nice. He let me ride on his shoulders for a while. It started to get dark, and I said I was going home. He said he would walk me home. On the way, I asked him what his last name was. He had told me his first name already. He said his last name was Anheuser. I knew that had to be a lie, it was the name of the brewers of Budweiser beer.
I became really alert then. We got to a point where I could cross Porlier Street and cut through the field, or go around the corner and down the sidewalk to the front of our house. I decided to cut through. He offered to walk me the rest of the way, but I said no. I ran across and into the darkness of the field. I hid under the lilac bush and watched in case he had followed me. No one came, so I went home, relieved.
Monday, May 15, 2006
The Magdalene Laundries
http://www.lyricsdepot.com/joni-mitchell/magdalene-laundries.html
The Magdalene Laundries
by Joni Mitchell
I was an unmarried girl
I'd just turned twenty-seven
When they sent me to the sisters
For the way men looked at me
Branded as a jezebel
I knew I was not bound for Heaven
I'd be cast in shame
Into the Magdalene laundries
Most girls come here pregnant
Some by their own fathers
Bridget got that belly
By her parish priest
We're trying to get things white as snow
All of us woe-begotten-daughters
In the steaming stains
Of the Magdalene laundries
Prostitutes and destitutes
And temptresses like me--
Fallen women--
Sentenced into dreamless drudgery ...
Why do they call this heartless place
Our Lady of Charity?
Oh charity!
These bloodless brides of Jesus
If they had just once glimpsed their groom
Then they'd know, and they'd drop the stones
Concealed behind their rosaries
They wilt the grass they walk upon
They leech the light out of a room
They'd like to drive us down the drain
At the Magdalene laundries
Peg O'Connell died today
She was a cheeky girl
A flirt
They just stuffed her in a hole!
Surely to God you'd think at least some bells should ring!
One day I'm going to die here too
And they'll plant me in the dirt
Like some lame bulb
That never blooms come any spring
Not any spring
No, not any spring
Not any spring
The Magdalene Laundries
by Joni Mitchell
I was an unmarried girl
I'd just turned twenty-seven
When they sent me to the sisters
For the way men looked at me
Branded as a jezebel
I knew I was not bound for Heaven
I'd be cast in shame
Into the Magdalene laundries
Most girls come here pregnant
Some by their own fathers
Bridget got that belly
By her parish priest
We're trying to get things white as snow
All of us woe-begotten-daughters
In the steaming stains
Of the Magdalene laundries
Prostitutes and destitutes
And temptresses like me--
Fallen women--
Sentenced into dreamless drudgery ...
Why do they call this heartless place
Our Lady of Charity?
Oh charity!
These bloodless brides of Jesus
If they had just once glimpsed their groom
Then they'd know, and they'd drop the stones
Concealed behind their rosaries
They wilt the grass they walk upon
They leech the light out of a room
They'd like to drive us down the drain
At the Magdalene laundries
Peg O'Connell died today
She was a cheeky girl
A flirt
They just stuffed her in a hole!
Surely to God you'd think at least some bells should ring!
One day I'm going to die here too
And they'll plant me in the dirt
Like some lame bulb
That never blooms come any spring
Not any spring
No, not any spring
Not any spring
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Good Shepards home for unwed mothers
when I was naughty at 918 mom & dad would threaten to send me there...
little did I know what was coming!
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Fondant!!!
Last night I bought some pastel sparkling sweets in a candy store in Nice; they reminded me of the candies that our Grandmother Gigi used to bring us. I had always wondered what they were. Now I know they were fondant. They had that same crystalline sugar sparkle on the surface; they came in assorted flavors and colors, each with its own decorative addition on the top. They were in only one shape, round with flat bottoms. The lavender ones had candied violets on top; the orange, candied peel caught in a loop of fondant. On the inside they were white. Another mystery of Kaap's Candy solved. Am I going to make them myself? Get a grip!
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Creases
Robyn unfolded the brittle photo. A crack ran right down the center of her mother's face. Robyn wondered if opening and shutting this photo had created the crack or if she had folded only once, long ago, to hide from her mother's cunning smile.
The photo was taken in the living room at Christmas time. The black wool skirt her mother wore was expensive. She was seated with her legs crossed suggestively, her right eyebrow cocked. In her left hand was nested the ever-present Winston cigarette, while in the other hand a second or third cocktail.
“Smoking is a filthy habit,” her mother would sneer stubbing out one then lighting another.
Robyn refolded along the crease and a flake of her mother’s face chipped off. Provoked by the disfigurement Robyn ripped a little along the crease. She felt a momentary exhilaration then ripped a little more. She waited a second then taped it back together and tucked it into a photo album.
The photo was taken in the living room at Christmas time. The black wool skirt her mother wore was expensive. She was seated with her legs crossed suggestively, her right eyebrow cocked. In her left hand was nested the ever-present Winston cigarette, while in the other hand a second or third cocktail.
“Smoking is a filthy habit,” her mother would sneer stubbing out one then lighting another.
Robyn refolded along the crease and a flake of her mother’s face chipped off. Provoked by the disfigurement Robyn ripped a little along the crease. She felt a momentary exhilaration then ripped a little more. She waited a second then taped it back together and tucked it into a photo album.
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