Tag Archives: family photos

New Year’s Eve with My Dad

I first published this post last New Year’s Eve.  I’ve added an update at the end.

Although I rarely go to New Year’s Eve parties any more (cue: one big whine and then a hefty sigh of relief), when I was growing up NYE always meant parties.  My parents went to one or hosted one every year.

In the sixties, my parents held their parties in the basement of our house.  Mom draped a paper tablecloth over the ping-pong table and Dad stocked the bar he’d built in the corner.  He set up table games and placed ashtrays on every available surface.  When he dragged out the box with the hats and noisemakers and boas I scrambled to help.  My favorite was the noisemaker blow out.  When I blew on the pipe end, the little roll of paper unfurled with a sputtery raspberry.  The tin drums which spun on wind-up stems sounded a raucous blare, so Dad would grab one of those and twirl it.

In the kitchen, my mother made canapés and Chex Mix.  She refrigerated 7-Up and washed the “frosted” highball glasses. Gold leaves, which I was sure were 24k gold leaf, decorated the crystal.

These plastic clips identified which drink to refill: rum and Coke, Seven and Seven, etc.

These plastic clips identified which drink to refill: Rum-and-Coke, Seven-and-seven, Gin-and-tonic, Scotch-and-soda.

I’m not saying I was a snoop, but I could hear everything.  I could even see a flash of the neighbor’s shiny bald head or Dad’s hand dealing cards through the register in the floor right near my bed.  I sat on the floor for hours with my legs cramped up underneath me.

While I didn’t hear anything of particular interest, the social interactions between the adults—their jokes, the vibrations in their voices, the sudden bursts of laughter– kept me straining my hearing.  Dad’s loud, excited voice rose above the others.  Everyone else faded into a background buzz in comparison with him.  Dad was the life of the party.

For his 80th birthday I made him a video of his life, and when Dad saw himself on video, he said, “I didn’t know I was so obnoxious!”  I had to laugh to myself at that because it isn’t as if nobody has told him that over the years.  Mostly, though, his enthusiasm for having a good time has been infectious.  At eighty-four he still likes to stir things up.  I suspect he’ll be wearing a hat and sounding his noisemaker at midnight tonight in Michigan.

Dad is ready for the party!

Dad is ready for the party!

###

This year Dad is, of course, 85. I will be seeing my parents the day after tomorrow, so I can ring in the New Year with them just a tad late.

30 Comments

Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Essay, Memoir, Nonfiction, Writing

Thank You So Much for Your Brilliant Comments on My Story!

Here is the notice on the website of Midlife Collage about my story:

“Still Photo” Lands First-Place

Monday, August 12th, 2013

Talkative passenger on a two-hour flight leaves a lasting impression in “Still Photo” by Luanne Castle. This first-place story, which leaves readers thinking, is now on the Winner’s
Circle page.

###
Thank you so much for helping my story win!!
The $50 is flying its way to me as I write. I will be thinking up a contest for the blog here, as promised.  Stay tuned . . . .

23 Comments

Filed under Blogging, Creative Nonfiction, Essay, Memoir, Nonfiction, Photographs, Writing

Voting on the Stories Ends Tomorrow at Noon

Commenting, Facebook liking, and voting (closing arguments) closes tomorrow, Sunday (August 11) at noon.

What’s that for? I have a creative nonfiction or memoir story up at Midlife Collage this week as I explained in my blog posts Monday and Tuesday.

If you have time, please go to the Midlife Collage contest and look for my story “Still Photo” by Luanne Castle. It competes with four other very short stories.

Even if I don’t win, the comments are rewarding to read because it’s wonderful to see if I have reached my readers. And if I win, I will set up a contest on this blog for blog readers :).

And whatever participation you can manage, I thank you from the ends of my toes and tips of my fingers.  Thank you!!!

Go here to find my story:

Midlife Collage  OR Facebook page.  Remember: it’s “Still Photo” by Luanne Castle.

 

Why is the story called "Still Photo" if the photo is of a camcorder?  Read my story and find out!

Why is the story called “Still Photo” if the photo is of a camcorder? Read my story and find out!

3 Comments

Filed under Blogging, Creative Nonfiction, Essay, Memoir, Nonfiction, Photographs, Writing

Shameless Begging for Help (Again)

I hate to beg for help. I asked for help last Thursday with my poetry reading skills. Now here I am asking for help again. I am definitely hanging my head and kicking the dirt with my shoe as I write this.

This time there is a time constraint. And rules.

One of my stories is in the Midlife Collage contest this week. See it up on the Home page:  “Still Photo” by Luanne Castle. It competes with four other very short stories.

The idea is that readers (that’s you, a reader 😉 ) read the stories which are up this week. Then you leave comments on at least three of them. (Note: the comments only count if you comment on at least three stories). Not “atta girl” type comments, but the sort of comment you might leave on one of my blog posts. If you think my story deserves to win, by all means, say so in your comment and give a reason why.

If you don’t have time to leave the comments, please leave a Facebook “like” for my story!  Here is the Facebook page.

The way they select the winner is through both the comments and the Facebook likes, with the comments being weighted more heavily.

I would be so grateful if you would read my story and the others and give the feedback that you are able to give.

Go here to find my story:

Midlife Collage  OR Facebook page.  Remember: it’s “Still Photo” by Luanne Castle.

Here’s my plan.

If my story were to win, I would like to use my award to design a contest for Writer Site–something you all can participate in. What do you think about that idea? I got the idea from the Paying It Forward segment on our local TV station.

Extra info:

Midlife Collage has a feature of interest to commenters called “Comments That Stick.” MC says, “We look for readers who write inspiring, enlightening or entertaining comments.” These will be comments that live on long after the contest for that particular story has closed.

Why is the story called "Still Photo" if the photo is of a camcorder?

Why is the story called “Still Photo” if the photo is of a camcorder?

Maybe you too will want to submit a piece to Midlife Collage!

AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP, LOVELIES!

12 Comments

Filed under Blogging, Creative Nonfiction, Essay, Memoir, Nonfiction, Photographs, Writing

10 Areas for More Research

February is almost up, and I still have much left to research for my book.  I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by it all, so I thought I would sweep the rest into a list and gradually make my way through it this spring.

These are some remaining areas for research:

Contemporary photo of the junior high I attended

Contemporary photo of the junior high I attended

1.  Collect photographs of the buildings of my life: houses we lived in; schools I attended; places I went to for extracurriculars, such as the library, art center, and ballet studio; local parks; my great-grandfather’s farm; and stores, malls, and shopping centers.  I felt that this stuff would be readily available, but the truth is I’m  having a difficult time finding the majority of this material.

2.  Draw “blueprints” of our houses

3.  Glue several photographs of each main character on character boards so I can see the evolution in looks/aging and fashions and hair styles for each character.  For my grandmother’s life before I was born, search for fabrics such as she wore

4.  Draw maps of each neighborhood I lived in

5.  Study more about the trash industry in the sixties–teepee burners, city dumps and landfills, scrapyards and junkyards

6.  Study more about German immigration to the Chicago area in 1890s and the situation of German immigrants in Chicago and its suburbs through WWII

7.  Collect photos and research telephones, TVs, and radios we used over the years.

8.  Same as #7 for our cars and trucks and boats.

9. Research an area of interest for each main character.  For example, for my grandmother it could be sewing or clothing design.

10. Research all the little weird things that my kids wouldn’t know about.

 Examples include Fizzies soda tablets which we melted on our tongues

and rat fink rings

If you’re wondering how I plan to use the results of my research, I hope it will do double duty.  For example, research stimulates my memory.  When I see a photograph of a place I used to know so well, I think ahah, right, now I remember that window was there to the left of the door.  The other benefit of research is to check my memories to make sure I remember things accurately.

###

What research, if any, do you do for your writing?  Do you have ideas for new research?

5 Comments

Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Memoir, Research and prep for writing

Did You Have a Birthday Party When You Were a Kid?

From my February prep and research for my book project Scrap:

I’ve been working with a scene about my sixth birthday party, and it occurred to me that such a staple of my childhood is a segue to certain aspects of the culture of the time period.  The post feels simplistic to me, but I’ve actually fretted over each detail here more than is probably warranted ;).

When I was a really little kid, in the late 50s and early 60s, the years were divided by Christmas.   Since my birthday is in July, that event broke up the boring rest of the year known to me as not-Christmas. 

I was an only child until I was well past seven, so my parents didn’t miss an opportunity to give me a birthday party.

WHEN:

1957-1962

WHERE:

In Kalamazoo, Michigan, where I grew up, we didn’t have parties in public places or restaurants, but in our own homes.

My parents had our parties in the living room, the basement, and out in the backyard, depending on the weather and my mom’s mood.

1959: my birthday in our living room

1959: my birthday party in our living room

WHO:

Most of my birthday party guest lists were a combination of local relatives–my maternal grandparents, my mother’s younger sister, and her brother and his family—and the neighborhood kids.

I remember the beginning of one party where I let the other kids in the front door, one or two at a time.  They were rarely with adults.  After all, we were all neighborhood kids and we roamed at will.

The girls wore pastel chiffon layered party dresses with full skirts and petticoats. My own dress was pink with darker pink cherries on the chiffon overskirt.  I had fallen in love with the dress when I’d taken it out of the tissue paper Mom had it wrapped in, but now I was the only girl in a print dress.  That felt strange, but good, too.

A lot of my dress-up dresses were swishy or crackly fancy fabric, like chiffon, and were worn over a net petticoat.  Notice the bow sash on the back of the dress in the photo above; that sash was typical of my dresses.

Front view, fancy dress
1959

When the boys got a little older they wore ties if they were friends.  Relatives did not.  Most of the boys wore their hair in some version of a crew cut, but most had practically shaved heads with a little bang left so you could tell if they were blond or dark-haired.  I don’t remember any minority kids ever attending because my neighborhood was all white.

Birthday picnic in the yard for relatives
Note my cousins’ butch-style crewcuts
and my tennis dress rather than a fancy dress

All the rage

All the rage

Did I mention that over those crew cuts and the girls’ short to medium length hair, we wore silly party hats?  See first photo above :).

Sometimes the party hats looked like upside down ice cream cones

Sometimes the party hats looked like upside down ice cream cones

REFRESHMENTS:

Birthday party mintsfor table and party favor bags

Birthday party mints
for table and party favor bags

Flat sugar mints for bridal and baby showers

Mom served a birthday cake, which she had made herself.  Usually it was a layer cake, standard size.  Sometimes she made a sheet cake in a tin cake pan with a sliding lid for church potlucks.

If we served a meal, it was simple fare like hot dogs or Sloppy Joes and jello molds.

Mom bought little candles from the grocery store for the top, along with pre-made candy decorations and matching candle holders.  She served punch, mints, and peanuts.  The mints she served us were the small, less expensive mints.

For fancier goings-on, like baby showers, she served the flat sugar mints, which I liked to melt on my tongue.

WHAT TO BRING:

Although my relatives did bring me modest gifts, I don’t remember gift opening being an important activity.  If the other kids brought anything, it would have been a simple toy like jacks or marbles or a jump rope.  I had no sense of expectation for gifts or a notion that there was anything in particular that I just had to have.

Jacks

Jacks

EVENTS:

We liked to play games at parties.  They were typical, well-structured party games.  We didn’t have video games or watch movies or go bowling.  We played Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey, balloons relays, memory games, and went on scavenger hunts when we were a little older.

Dad nailed a big poster of the donkey, sans tail, onto a piece of cork attached to the cement block wall in our basement.  Then we took turns being blindfolded with Dad’s bandanna and stumbled a few feet with our paper donkey tail, a thumb tack stuck through it.  The person who nailed the donkey’s rear end most accurately won the prize.

Poster and tails included

Poster and tails included

For balloon relays Dad and I had to blow up a zillion balloons before the kids got to the house.  Since I didn’t have very big lungs at that point, that meant that Dad had to generate a lot of air.  He’d get giddy and start acting silly from all the puffing into balloons.  Then he and I would roll around laughing.  The object was that teams tried to beat each other at popping the most balloons.

Once us kids were old enough to write, we would play memory games. Mom would line up some small household objects on a tray and we would have to memorize them and then write them down on a piece of paper from memory.

Sometimes Mom bought little party books.  Then we would play paper and pen games.  Does anyone remember those books?  Was it one book with several pages for each game–where you tore out the pages and passed them around?  Or did each guest get a book?

What was important is that every game would net a winner, and the winner would get a prize.  The prize was never expensive, but it was something  to take home.  Each guest was given a paper party favor bag with about ten mints, ten peanuts, a sucker, and one noisemaker.  If you won a prize, you got to add that item to your party bag.

The prizes were toys like these:

Party prizes or costumes for a themed party

Party prizes or costumes for a themed party

Party prizes

Party prizes

And what was almost as much fun was getting an invitation to somebody else’s party:

###

WRITING PROMPT: Write about a party held in your honor or that you threw for someone else.  Start with the planning and preparation. What was most memorable?  Then move on to the party itself.  During or afterward, did you still think the same elements were important?  If there was a change in your thinking did it affect your decision to have a party in the future or what kind of party you want or even the emphasis you placed in the party planning?

12 Comments

Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Research and prep for writing, Writing prompt

What Were My People Like?

I put a page on here  (see tab at the top of this page) which links to my genealogy blog.  A year ago I barely knew what a blog was, and now I have three blogs (with ideas for more–slap me, please).   The third blog was actually the first one–it’s about adoption and I write it with my daughter.  I had so much fun, I decided to keep going.

Back to the genealogy blog.  Long before I had kids (both of them were adopted), I was interested in family history and genealogy.  For a while I worked on a master’s degree in history, specializing in just that subject.  That’s before I gained/lost my senses and switched over to creative writing and English.  So while genealogy is a strange subject for someone with kids and a brother who were adopted, it’s something I’ve long been interested in.  Because of my interest, family members have told me stories and given me memorabilia.  I feel a great responsibility for this trust.

If you’re also into this subject, or if you just want to see what kind of weird family created me ;), check out my mother’s Dutch ancestors at The Family Kalamazoo.

I keep the focus on the DeKorn and Zuidweg families of southwestern Michigan. On this site, I share old photographs (100 years old), many taken by family photographer Joseph DeKorn.

Flooding at the Water Works Bridge in Kalamazoo, March 26, 1904. That spring, the water got 6″ higher than the photo shows.


I also have many other old photos and artifacts from the family.

Years ago, my grandfather Adrian Zuidweg shared a portion of the collection with Western Michigan University‘s Archives and Regional History Collections. A larger portion is not at the archives, and my goal is to share the rest of the collection on this blog.

At the lake

At the lake

The lives of my family members revolved around their families, small businesses (such as retail and construction), and the many lakes of the Kalamazoo area.

16 Comments

Filed under Memoir

Today’s reblog remembers my cousin Leah who I will always miss.

1 Comment

Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Poetry

I’m sort of on a kind of partial hiatus this week, so I am re-blogging my very first Writer Site blog post. Have a mindful day and be sure to notice people’s faces :).

Leave a comment

Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Memoir, Memoir writing theory

New Year’s Eve with My Dad

Although I rarely go to New Year’s Eve parties any more (cue: one big whine and then a hefty sigh of relief), when I was growing up NYE always meant parties.  My parents went to one or hosted one every year.

In the sixties, my parents held their parties in the basement of our house.  Mom draped a paper tablecloth over the ping-pong table and Dad stocked the bar he’d built in the corner.  He set up table games and placed ashtrays on every available surface.  When he dragged out the box with the hats and noisemakers and boas I scrambled to help.  My favorite was the noisemaker blow out.  When I blew on the pipe end, the little roll of paper unfurled with a sputtery raspberry.  The tin drums which spun on wind-up stems sounded a raucous blare, so Dad would grab one of those and twirl it.

In the kitchen, my mother made canapés and Chex Mix.  She refrigerated 7-Up and washed the “frosted” highball glasses. Gold leaves, which I was sure were 24k gold leaf, decorated the crystal.

These plastic clips identified which drink to refill: rum and Coke, Seven and Seven, etc.

These plastic clips identified which drink to refill: Rum-and-Coke, Seven-and-seven, Gin-and-tonic, Scotch-and-soda.

I’m not saying I was a snoop, but I could hear everything.  I could even see a flash of the neighbor’s shiny bald head or Dad’s hand dealing cards through the register in the floor right near my bed.  I sat on the floor for hours with my legs cramped up underneath me.

While I didn’t hear anything of particular interest, the social interactions between the adults—their jokes, the vibrations in their voices, the sudden bursts of laughter– kept me straining my hearing.  Dad’s loud, excited voice rose above the others.  Everyone else faded into a background buzz in comparison with him.  Dad was the life of the party.

For his 80th birthday I made him a video of his life, and when Dad saw himself on video, he said, “I didn’t know I was so obnoxious!”  I had to laugh to myself at that because it isn’t as if nobody has told him that over the years.  Mostly, though, his enthusiasm for having a good time has been infectious.  At eighty-four he still likes to stir things up.  I suspect he’ll be wearing a hat and sounding his noisemaker at midnight tonight in Michigan.

Dad is ready for the party!

Dad is ready for the party!

I live in the Southwest, but I almost wish I could be there, listening through the register.

12 Comments

Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Memoir