Tag Archives: Family

Maude Louise …

My mother, Maude Louise Littlefield Freeman was born in Waterville, Maine on March 11, 1907.

(my mother and her mother Albra Mae Flewelling Littlefield Grant Baird)

The picture below is one of my most favorite pictures of all time…

101_4467

Raised on Martha’s Vineyard…

 

100_1280

100_1287

my mother and grandmother at their house on Circuit Ave in Oak Bluffs, 1924

100_1293

After graduating from Oak Bluffs High School in 1926 she moved to Newark, NJ where she met, and married a Jersey boy… Joseph Albert Freeman

867a4442074a2ebf4e670ea806af99c98eb8a57b

and had a Jersey girl (me)…

100_9407

IMG_2256

I have posted the above pictures etc several times here on my blog either on my mother’s birthday or on Mother’s Day so why am I doing it again this year ?   During the past several months my daughter Deb and I (90% Deb) have been digging into the ancestry of our family.  I posted back in October 2015 how my mother’s ancestors did indeed come on the first voyage of the Mayflower …. but since then Deb has discovered ancestors on mom’s side all over the place and going back many generations.  She’s also discovered facts about my grandparents on my dad’s side which has been amazing since we didn’t know anything about them at all.  But that’s a post for another time. Today it’s all about my mom, Maude Louise.

A friend asked me the other day to describe my mother…what was she like, what did she like to do.  I pondered this question and found it was sort of a hard one to answer.  To me my mother was funny and a little nutsy at times, a trait I’ve happily inherited by the way… she was kind and loving,  a hard worker, she adored my dad, and me. She liked to crochet, she made tablecloths and doilies,  and also made lace on handkerchiefs.  She made one for my best friend to carry on her wedding day… when I got married I carried it as my ‘something borrowed’.. as did my daughter Patty when she got married.

She had her problems as well though, she went through a period of over a year when I was around 11 when she wouldn’t leave the house… at all… ever.  She would wait for me to get home from school and then send me to the corner store for her cigarettes or milk or whatever.  We didn’t know what to do about this but then the solution presented itself one morning when my dad was home and he took advantage of it.   Mom was doing the wash in one of those machines that had wringers where you’d put the clothes through to get excess water off of them.  Somehow my mother’s arm went half way through the wringer…she screamed.. my dad went running to see what was wrong.  He quickly took the wringer apart and freed mom’s arm.  She claimed she was okay but my dad being a policeman who had worked in the emergency squad division thought otherwise.  And here’s where his genius solution to mom’s not wanting to leave the house came in.  He said he was taking her to the hospital, she started up the stairs to get dressed (she was in her robe) and he said no, there wasn’t time for that.  And then he took her to the worst, most crowded hospital in the city and left her there.  He left her because I was due home for lunch break and someone had to be there.  Of course when I got home I wondered why Mom wasn’t there and he said she’d gone shopping !  Shopping, really !  The woman hadn’t left the house in months and months and now she suddenly went downtown to go shopping.  I was skeptical.  When I came home from school later in the day there sat my mother all dressed up like she really had gone shopping.  I, of course asked if she’d bought me anything.. hey I was 11 and very self involved.

But what my dad did was just what was needed to snap her back to herself.  She had been so embarrassed sitting in the hospital in her night clothes with so many people around that I guess she vowed to take her life back and do something other than sitting and crocheting all the time.

And she did…. a week later she went to the personnel office in the bank she had worked for before I was born, applied for a job as a bookkeeper and was hired on the spot.

IMG_2450

But there was a lot more to my mother than that episode above… the fact that she had the spirit in her to get herself back on track, I find myself calling on that spirit at times too.

She was a kook in her younger years and I’ve got the photo album that proves it.

The first page says ‘taken during the year 1926’.. most of the photos are of mom and her friends on Martha’s Vineyard…there are a few from NJ as well.   I love how she wrote in white ink on the black pages…and wow, what typical 1926 sayings she wrote.  My mother it seems was turning into a flapper… I love it.

For instance, the picture on the lower left says ‘The Oak Bluffs Sheik “oh daddy” “He’s a hound with the ladies.”  I’m 80% sure I know who that hound was but I’m not telling :)

It would have been fun to have known my mother when she was that age, to have hung out with her and her friends on the Vineyard, to be in on their inside jokes and what really went on in with the sheik of Oak Bluffs ! Okay, maybe not. Does one really want to know THAT much about their parents, some things are better left unknown :)

pizap.com14576305662362Yes indeed, my mother was one of my favorite people to spend time with.  Some nights when my dad was working the night shift my mom and I would have our favorite supper and speak our ‘silly language’, which was to put ‘S’ in front of every word… not as easy as you think and certainly made for gales of laughter from both of us.

I feel that maybe I shouldn’t have spent so much time on the above story about her bout with, depression, and I was tempted to go back and delete it…but no, it goes to show that she was a strong woman, who lost herself for awhile and then found and reinvented herself…and I’m proud of her for that and like to think that I got some of that fortitude or spunk from her… I definitely got my quirkiness from her and I thank her for that.

Happy birthday mom… <3


Birthday …

In the 8 and 1/2 years of my blog I don’t recall ever talking about my birthday, that’s about to change.

I was born on Saturday, February 14… Valentine’s Day.  Family story has it that my mother refused to have me on Friday the 13th.  Whether true or not I don’t know but I have always liked being a Valentine.

pizap.com14551502726661I was born in Newark, NJ where my dad was a police officer.  From the age of 6 months I spent all my summers on Martha’s Vineyard where my mother grew up.  What a lucky kid I was.

Out and about for a walk with my Easter bunny in my new Easter outfit.

IMG_2215

I was an only child but never a lonely child.

Every year my mother would plan a party for my birthday and every year I’d be sick and it would have to be canceled.  At long last around the age of 9 or 10 I finally had my first birthday party.

pizap.com14549629485781
I believe that was the first and last birthday party I had until my 50th many, many years later…

pizap.com14551586433181 The group picture is my daughter Deb with dog Jilly, daughter Patty, granddaughter Tiffany and me… we recreated it for Patty’s 50th a few years ago with Deb holding dog Chappy this time.  We’ve definitely all changed a bit I’d say.

DSC_0013
And so that’s how birthdays go.  One year after another like clock work they roll around and  give us pause to think about the past ones and the ones still to come.

 DSC_0253 I can pretty much be summed up in this word search Patty made for me.

pizap.com14551609743241

In the words of Carly Simon…”one number older, another year younger, blow out the candles, happy birthday” :)

100_5642


Weekly Challenge: Time …

The prompt is to think about time and portray it photographically.  Perhaps you have a fascination with clocks. Or maybe contemplating time takes you somewhere else completely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is my granfather Charles’s pocket watch.  He died in 1910 and I’m not sure how long he had this pocket watch but it’s safe to say it’s over 100 years old.

IMG_2191
IMG_2183
A close up of the intricate pictures on the front and back.

pizap.com14547170498671

For many years the watch sat in my jewelry box untouched.  Recently I took it out and wound it and it began ticking… it was missing hands though.

IMG_1091New hands, new pocket watch chain, thorough cleaning and the watch is keeping time once again.  Actually that’s not entirely true, Charles the watch doesn’t always keep the correct time every day… seems Charles is having a bit of a good time teasing us.

pizap.com14547880939031

IMG_2190

It’s okay that Charles the pocket watch is ticking to its own time… sort of goes along with this wall clock of mine that cares not what time it is :)

100_9899

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/time/


One Vineyard Christmas …

I’ve been to Martha’s Vineyard around Christmastime but to my recollection there is only one time in my life that I actually spent Christmas on the Vineyard. I was probably around 5 or 6 and my mother and I went to MV to be with my godparents.

Edward and Gertrude Norris (Nana and Pop) were my godparents. They lived part of the year in their house in Oak Bluffs which is where I spent my childhood summers. The other part of the year they lived in Newark, NJ downstairs in the same house we lived in. They were the most important people in my life besides my parents. They never had children of their own and they thought of us as their family. When my mother graduated from high school on MV she moved to Newark, NJ to live with them and to find work.

One Christmas, in the early 1950’s, when Nana and Pop were elderly, having health problems and living year round on the Vineyard and missing us, my mother decided she and I should go and spend Christmas with them. I was too young to realize this might be the last Christmas for one or both of them, all I knew was that I was going to wake up Christmas morning ON THE VINEYARD. How great would that be. The only glitch was that my dad couldn’t get off work to come with us but he insisted we go. Talk about being torn.

DSC_0204

I seem to remember there was a dusting of snow on Christmas morning… even if there wasn’t I like to think there was.  There were presents… one in particular I remember because I asked for it every year. A nurses kit. It was a white square box with a red cross on the side. Inside were band-aids, gauze bandages, a wooden thermomenter and a stethescope, a name tag… and the most important article.. a nurses cap. I spent the most of the morning bandaging people up whether they wanted to be or not.

All of a sudden I heard a faint knock on the front door !! I ran to open it and let out a shriek… it was my dad standing there with a big smile and a shirt box. A shirt box !! Yes indeed that’s all he had with him. No suitcase. No duffle bag. Just a shirt box with a couple of clean shirts and other essentials inside it. He liked to travel light.

It turned out to be one of the most wonderful Christmases of my childhood.

A few years ago I found this letter that my Pop had written to me for my 6th birthday in 1948. After Nana died he pretty much lived alone except for the two summer months we spent with him. I loved to listen to his stories of working on the steamships in Massachusetts and later being a bank guard in NJ. Pop couldn’t walk without the aid of a cane and even then couldn’t walk far, certainly no further than the front or back yard. Almost everyday we’d have our lunch together under a tree in the backyard and then in the evening we’d listen to the radio together. He liked programs like ‘The Shadow’ which scared the bejeebers out of me and made it hard for me to walk down the dark and seemingly endlessly long hall to my upstairs bedroom. The hardest part of my summers was saying good-bye to him… I wouldn’t cry in front of him but the tears spilled out of my eyes the moment we left the house. I still find it sad and emotional to leave the Vineyard and I’m sure those moments from long ago have a bearing on it.

I am blessed to have the memories of that one Christmas on Martha’s Vineyard and of Nana and Pop, two people who were such an important part of my life.

100_7377

….and happy holiday memories to all.


Special Christmas Santa …

101_3806

To find out why this Santa is so special to my family please CLICK HERE to visit my other blog.. MV Obsession.  Thank you.

http://www.mvobsession.com

 


Our Christmas Santa …

101_3806

My dad was a police officer in Newark, NJ.  For many of his years on the force he worked in the Emergency Squad division.  During the long hours between calls the guys would keep themselves busy in various ways like cooking.  Near the Christmas holidays they always came up with a special project, like candle making for instance.

In 1956 they made Santas.  I still have ours.  Santa stands about 3 and 1/2 feet tall and is made from press board. After the outline was drawn the guys cut out the Santas and my dad set to work drawing the features, clothing and bag of toys.  At that point our Santa came home and my mother and I painted him.  I’m not sure how many coats of paint we used but Santa was spread out on our kitchen table for about a week before he was completely dry.  I don’t know what kind of paint we used either but here it is 59 years later and he’s not chipped or faded.  This was the only time I ever remember the three of us doing a family project together.

I love everything about this Santa, even the buttons being on the wrong side… but the thing I love the most is that he looks like my dad… a self portrait so to speak.

My creation

Below is my daughter Patty age 2 and 1/2 in 1966…

101_3819

… and her daughter (my granddaughter) Tiffany age 2 and 1/2 in 1991

101_3817
Here’s to Christmas memories <3


The Christmas Boxes …

Xmas 72

(circa 1970)

T’was Christmas morning and all through the house,

Everyone was stirring, even the mouse,

Lots of smiles, joy and merriment,

And of course a new ornament.

Patty opened her box and Deb’s turn was next,

The look on her face was very perplexed !

The box was empty, no ornament inside…

I felt terrible and almost cried.

Deb rose to her feet and headed to the

tree,

And hung the empty box where the ornament should be.

The following year I searched all around,

A perfect ornament for Deb must be found,

It was, it was just meant to be,

A box ornament for our Christmas tree.

We hang them each year and remember with glee,

How an empty box (filled with love) came to decorate

our tree.

pizap.com14491980909351


Weekly Challenge: Victory …

The prompt: In your photo this week, focus on the win, the victory — that moment of glory and pride you’ll remember forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t bake often, almost never, but when I do it’s never been from scratch… until last year when I wanted to surprise my daughter with a homemade cake that I had baked.  I wrote this post on my other blog and thought I would share it here today as my ‘victory’ challenge :)

I Can Bake ! …

It took me 51 years but I finally made a cake from scratch.

Last year for my daughter’s birthday I wanted to surprise her with something she would not expect… and a homemade cake would definitely be that.

I gathered my stuff together and began my new experience.

This ‘new picture’ Betty Crocker Cook Book by the way isn’t all that new.  It was given to me by my dad 51 years ago.

100_7203I decided to make a pound cake in a bundt pan. I mixed all ingredients, well, except for one which I couldn’t find in the pantry and figured it wasn’t all that important … how much of a difference could a tsp of baking powder make anyway.

I even melted some chocolate to add to the pound cake…  thought it would give it some oomph and who doesn’t like at least of dash of chocolate in a cake.

My creation

Into the oven it went and then it was only a matter of waiting to see if it would come out of the cake pan in one piece !  Yay… it did.

My creation

Maybe the baking powder would have made it a little taller but I like to think of it as a petite pound cake.

The victory cake complete with candles :)

100_7247

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/victory/


Plymouth, MA – This and That …

Part 4 of our trip..

This is the National Monument to the Forefathers

101315__mom__0018

The monument lists the names of the Mayflower Pilgrims and also on the four buttresses are seated figures emblematical of the principles upon which the Pilgrims founded their Commonwealth; Morality, Law, Education and Liberty.

According to Wikipedia : {The National Monument to the Forefathers, formerly known as the Pilgrim Monument, commemorates the Mayflower Pilgrims

 CLICK HERE

pizap.com14461349490141
And this is the Pilgrim Hall Museum ..CLICK HERE

DSC_0081

The nation’s oldest continuously operating public museum, Pilgrim Hall Museum houses an unmatched collection of Pilgrim possessions telling the story of brave and determined men and women building lives and homes for themselves and their children in a new world. See William Bradford’s Bible, Myles Standish’s sword, the only portrait of a Pilgrim (Edward Winslow) painted from life, the cradle of New England’s first–born, Peregrine White, the great chair of William Brewster, and the earliest sampler made in America, embroidered by Myles Standish’s daughter.

The only thing we were allowed to photograph were these beautiful stained glass windows

DSC_0086

pizap.com14461439196231
And that….  that’s two of the most delicious, mouth watering, , heavenly New England lobster rolls… :)

IMG_1584

IMG_1580

This concludes part 4 of our Plymouth, MA trip.. actually it may conclude this series all together, or it may not !!  Hope it’s been as enjoyable to read about as it was to have experienced it :)

(pictures are mine and Debs)


Plymouth, MA – Plimouth Plantation …

Part 2 of our trip into the past to visit our ancestors..Plimouth Plantation…

DSC_0107
DSC_0090
DSC_0092Our visit to Plimouth Plantation was interesting and fun, I wish history had been this alive to me when I was in school eons ago :)

According to Wikipedia:

{Plimoth Plantation, founded in 1947, is a living history museum in Plymouth, Massachusetts, USA, that shows the original settlement of the Plymouth Colony established in the 17th century by English colonists, some of whom later became known as Pilgrims. They were among the first people who immigrated to America to avoid religious persecution and to seek religious separation from the Church of England.

In the 1627 English Village section of the museum, interpreters have been trained to speak, act and dress appropriately for the period. At Plimoth Plantation they are called historical interpreters, and they interact with their ‘strange visitors’ (i.e. the modern general public) in the first person, answering questions, discussing their lives and viewpoints and participating in tasks such as cooking, planting, black smithing and animal husbandry.}

Let’s begin…

Before we got to the Pilgrim settlement we stopped at the re-creation of a Wampanoag home site where modern day Native People from a variety of nations, dressed in traditional dress demonstrate how their ancestors lived and interacted with the settlers.

pizap.com14452951552681Onward now to the village, founded in 1947,  where we see how the Pilgrims lived…

DSC_0115

101415_097

pizap.com14453064679671
pizap.com14453431164451

and talk with some ‘historical interpreters’…

Governor William Bradford and friend

Gov Wm Bradford

William Brewster, Ruling Elder of the Plymouth Church

William Brewster
and our ancestor, Myles Standish

Capt Miles Standish

 We sat down to rest and two ladies walked by and smiled and said we looked so happy and would we like them to take our picture… tah dah…

101415_100

:) :) :)

This concludes part 2 of our trip… next up… Miles Standish burial ground and the John & Priscilla Alden House…

(pictures are mine and Deb’s)