Wistful Wednesday: May Day 1954

Sixty years ago I was two years and eight months old in May of 1954.  It snowed.

I had seven May Day baskets that year…it was a good haul.  Candy was a rare thing back then, there may have been a cookie or two in those May Baskets.  Jelly Beans maybe..or maybe those Circus Peanuts.  I always picked out the black jelly beans first..they were licorice flavored and made your tongue black.

That is my dog in the background.  My maternal Grandparents always made sure I had a dog. I have always liked dogs.  I think this one was probably named Frosty…but I am not sure and my parents don’t remember.  I had a succession of dogs, some chased cars, some got what was called tick fever, some killed chickens, some met an untimely death.  I am sure I cried…and since we went to Grandpa and Grandmas every Sunday I could report my doglessness to them…and a puppy would appear…just like magic. My maternal Grandparents loved dogs too.

That honeysuckle bush/tree still stands as do the lilac bushes in the background. The blooms will be out the last week in May or the first week in June.

I have my May Day Baskets all set to deliver tomorrow! And yes it might be snowing.

60

Well the name of the blog is NOT changing.  When I began to blog apparently I did not have the forethought to wonder what it should be called if I lived to be over 59 years old.   60 is still the Far Side of Fifty as far as I am concerned.

I am now “older than dirt.”   A long time ago when I was younger I thought anyone older than 50 was ancient. As I grew older I adjusted that to be 60..now I am there and no matter how much I would like to make that adjustment I cannot.

Logically I should just accept the fact that I am no longer a spring chicken and have become an old bird. Sometimes a cranky old bird.

I never ever thought I would reach 50 years old..60 was not even a possibility.   Yet here I am.  I should have been more prepared.

My other baby brother and “she who sees robins first” took us out on Saturday evening for a Prime Rib dinner to celebrate my birthday.  My other baby brother said “If you are turning 60 the least I can do is buy you dinner.” It was yummy!  In 9 years when he is 60 I will return the favor. ( Goodness gracious I will be on the cusp of 70 by then. Perhaps I should tuck 50 bucks away in an envelope marked other baby brothers sixtieth birthday steak, just incase I croak before his big day.)

I am not certain what wonderful thoughtful gift I will get from my husband.  Chance may have been shopping too, that dog is resourceful.  I heard my daughter was gifted a Waffle Iron for turning 36.  Romance runs rampant with birthday gifts up here in the Northland:)

Sixty Years Ago

On this date in1950 a little girl who was almost five years old and her father went shopping downtown in Detroit Lakes, Minnesota. It was a special day, the little girl had just become a big sister. She helped her father pick out a lovely gift for her mother. They took the gift to the hospital where she met her little brother. The little girl remembered the story or it would have been lost forever.

Far Guy will forever be the little brother, and his sister forever the big sister.

The pearls are now in the possession of our eldest daughter, Trica. She is "the keeper of the pearls." The pearls that are as old as her father. She has been instructed to share them with her sister..

Jen wearing the pearls, we laughed the day I took this photo..they look so glamorous with a T shirt..but she has the right coloring to look fantastic in these pearls.  

Trica is also to share them with her daughters and her nephews brides. Someday they will be handed down..perhaps after a wedding or a birth.


Happy Birthday Far Guy! :)