1973/1974 Florida

Back in 1973/1974 we lived in Tampa Florida on South West Shore Blvd not far from the Air Base.  Trica our oldest daughter was 14 months old when we arrived there and almost 2 years old when we left.

We did potty training in Florida.  She was a busy child...and would take off all her clothes by herself and put them in the laundry if she had an accident.  Then she would run around the house naked and giggling only to stop if her favorite commercials were on TV.

We had a tiny 12 inch black and white television.   We got one or two channels with the rabbit ears...sometimes we hung aluminum foil from them.

Entertainment for a child was commercials.  Trica loved two commercials in particular and would stop in front of the TV and  recite them...Chick Smith Ford in sparkling downtown Clearwater and learn to play guitar with Kenny Rogers.   I thought of those early times yesterday when I heard of Kenny Roger's death.  He was 81...that means he was 34 years old when he made that commercial.

Seems like only yesterday.

Trica 1973 18 months old in Tampa Florida.

Our stove and fridge were a lovely shade of  pink, some mornings were cool in Florida so I would turn the oven on to take the chill out of the kitchen. One day Trica asked me if she could have soup.  I said "Sure in a minute"  the next thing I heard was an explosion.  She must have decided to make soup herself and put the can of soup she wanted in the oven.  What a mess.

Far Side

Little Things

In 1974 I purchased a kit that had wooden Christmas ornaments to paint. Trica was two and was particularly interested in the Santa ornament. One day she was too quiet, a two year old being quiet usually means trouble. She was a thief, she stole the Santa ornament and colored on it. She did use appropriate Christmas colors. She was scolded for taking things that were not hers. At the time I thought well, I will put it on the tree anyway, and throw it out after Christmas. It might be a good reminder, for her, and for me. She has to learn not to take things without asking, and I have to watch her more closely. For some reason her ornament got packed away (Far Guy) with all the rest of them. The next year the story began. This ornament is now 34 years old.

In 1976, I was taking a ceramics class at night, it was my one night of sanity every week. I brought home some ornaments to paint. Trica wanted to paint with me. Finally when I could not take the whining any longer, I let her paint the little mouse and write her name. She got all the letters right, sure her I looks a little funny, more like a t with an extra line, and she ran out of room for the C and the A so she just fit them in where she could. But I do believe that every Christmas mouse should have big green ears a silver face and a red nose. She was four.

ART by my eldest daughter, on the tree every year. EVERY year she had to listen to me tell the stories about her ornaments before she could hang them on the tree. She knows the stories well. I have the ornaments..and they still go on the tree:)

Gilligan

Back in 1974, our daughter Trica was two and she watched two television shows everyday, Sesame Street with me and Gilligans Island with her Father. Everyday before Far Guy left for his night shift job at Steiger Tractor they had some quiet time together and would snuggle up in the big old burgundy rocking chair and watch the antics of the castaways.

One day Trica did something inappropriate...and promptly blamed it on "Gilligan." She started talking to Gilligan, she could carry on a entire conversation with her imaginary friend. Gilligan got out all of the toys and never put them back in the toy box. Gilligan played with the water in the bathroom, drenching everything in sight. Gilligan colored on the white walls...Gilligan was a troublemaker.

Trica would look at me so innocently, blue eyes sparkling and declare "Gilligan did it" and smile. What is a mother to do? I tried my best to just ignore Gilligan, sometimes it was really hard, I wanted to put him up for adoption, yes I wanted to do anything I could to rid myself of my childs imaginary friend..what kind of a Mother lets her child's imaginary friend drive her nuts anyway?

Gilligan lived with us for about three years, when her baby sister Jennifer got old enough to communicate, Gilligan slowly disappeared..probably back to his trouble making island. She was no longer an only child with the need for an imaginary friend to blame things on, she now had her very own sister:)