It is now the heart of winter up North. It's been cold for awhile with yet much more yet to before it begins to abate and Spring comes filtering slowly in. I present you with a picture from Summer many years ago. Cold drink close by (and would someone please tell me what that is!) cigarette in hand and modern communications at the ready.
This is your blogger in full summer hippiedom. Matching my tank top with the wallpaper was no easy trick. And shorts any shorter would have had to watch where I put the cigarette. Long haired college kid - must have thought I was the smartest person in the room, and I would have been if I'd been alone with the dog - maybe.
Looking at that picture I see how important that phone was in the daily lives of people. It was the only form of instant communication short of a news alert on TV. From this chair, Marj could talk to her neighborhood friends and catch up on the news of the hour. The second most important thing is the dishwasher. It was used extensively for a while, then it broke down, and then it became storage and a convenient table of sorts. Actually I remember it not working more often than working. I'm sitting in her seat and with her bad hips, the dishwasher/table became a convenient way to brace herself when getting up.
The table was a neat, sleek looking thing: no legs, instead a center column. Marj was always re-doing something, it seemed. The flowered wallpaper screams Laugh-In and the bright colors were definitely 70's era. The kitchen was the hub throughout the year with maybe the back porch a substitute during the summer months.
The white handled item on the far left in the center of the table was, I think, a vinegar jar. We had spinach a lot and I think that jar was in the center for a good portion of our lives. Some things never changed and that white vinegar jar was one of them.
I have no idea what was going on specifically on this day, but the tank top, shorts, cig and long hair place me firmly in a nice little bubble of no job, no worries, no money and no damn sense.
Comments
Post a Comment