Memories of Halloween The Book of Me Prompt #9

Some of the candy that I gave out this Halloween.

Halloween!

Hmm......I admit that I was scratching my head wondering how this came to be a prompt for the Book of Me. This is one of the holidays that really makes one wonder----where did this all come from?

Now, my memories from childhood Halloween outings are good ones, but I also have to admit that I began to enjoy the holiday more when I was the one coming to the door to give out candy, more than going from house to house. 

As a child, I can recall my mother working with my brother and me, making our own costumes. And we only went within about a 2-3 block area from my house. I usually wore a half mask, the kind that always limited my peripheral vision and had the cut out holes for the eyes, and the bridge of the nose. I recall usually getting a pink onem though one year I got one with lots of glitter on it.

After our trick or treating, my mother always had to inspect the candy, in case some evil soul was dropping razor blades in our bags or committing some other frightening deed. And of course all loose candy had to be tossed, though I always wanted the popcorn balls that the lady up the street, would give out. But by the time trick or treating was over, the popcorn balls were breaking apart, and they too got tossed.

However, by the time I was 10 or 11, I actually got bored with the trick or treating, and had more fun looking at the costumes of others and I remember telling my mom that I didn't want to go anymore, and so, I made a conscious decision that I would be at the door from that time forward. There was no real reason, but I guess I was always kind of an old soul, and found looking at the faces of the smaller children far more entertaining than getting candy, much of which I did not eat, anyway.

But then came my college years! Wow---what a surprise---I was dumbfounded to find out how many big kids----meaning folks my own age---were really into Halloween! I mean drop dead serious---from carving pumpkins to making truly elaborate get ups---serious costumes. I never had friends who were artistic, so I never knew people who were so creative with costumes. It was one of those things that still leave me a wee bit perplexed. The costumes I recall went far beyond just wearing a mask and some funny clothes---I mean people were insects, or inanimate objects that they wore to somebody's party. I guess it was a cultural thing---I just had never known folks who did this beyond childhood.

Adulthood came fast enough and once again--enjoying giving candy to children, I was stunned to find myself at a university where lots of colleagues took the day quite seriously. Several colleagues put lost of energy for days preparing for their day to come to work as a book character, or movie character, or even at times a biblical character.  I am always entertained by it, but still amazed at something that I still see as a fun thing for children, to be dabbled in as much as it is by adults.

Of course I have tried not to look to closely at the origins of the holiday, for it has a very dark and sinister origin. I take comfort in that it has morphed into something to delight the children.

And I guess Halloween is something where you make your own day of it, and for me, I find simple pleasure in reaching into my container of candy and distribute to the children, who seem so anxious to get the candies that await them.

The Book of Me Prompt #8 The Items for My Time Capsule

Items for My Time Capsule: Laptop, E-reader, Cell phone, Camera, flash drives.

I was admittedly a bit stumped by the idea of a time capsule. There was nothing that I really wanted to put in an object to "save for future generations" that would really reflect who I am now or how my life is. 

But then I gave it some thought and decided to describe the items that I would put in a capsule, if I didn't need them now. In other words---my time capsule is an imaginary one, but these are the items that I cannot live without. At the same time---I know that 50 years from now no one will really use items any of these items that look like them. Within probably 3-5 years---they will all be obsolete and look quite different. They will follow the path of vinyl records, 8 track tapes, and Polaroid cameras. We will still have some version of them around, but they won't look like the ones above. My guess is that they will all be lighter in weight, sleeker in design.

So my imaginary time capsule would contain these items.

1) Laptop computer.  The large black item, upon which the smaller items rest, is my laptop. I don't go out of town without it, and if I am home, it is on, even if I am busy with a non-computer related task. If something occurs to be to scribble down--or if I want a quick look up---it is handy, and turned on and at my disposal.

2) Cell phone. I currently use a Blackberry. (I imagine that in the future when they read the name Blackberry they will think I am using some kind of fruit.). Obviously I never leave it behind and beyond phoning friends and family, I also use it for email, and the camera feature is handy for quick uploads to Facebook and Twitter.

3) Kindle FireHD The pink object on the right, is my Kindle Fire HD tablet. I also have a regular Kindle E-reader, but I use the HD for so many more things than reading. I use it for a quick check of what's happening on Facebook. In addition I love the video feature. (I have watched all seasons of Downton Abbey on it as well as all season of Doc Martin!) Occasionally I check email and have played only two games on it, but I keep it handy. When traveling, I do find it quite handier than my laptop when I want to go online while on a long flight. (Assuming they have wi-fi.)

4) My Digital Camera Like my phone, I never leave home without it. I find having it handy assists me sometimes with some rare photo ops, and even some video opportunities as well. This one is a Canon and when collapsed, it fits easily into my purse.

5) Flash Drives I keep all of my power point presentations on flash drives and make sure that when I am traveling, they are close to me, usually also in my purse. These drives have so much storage, that I am putting more and more documents online as well as I am finding that at some archival repositories, that documents can be downloaded right to a flash drive as well. As small as these are, I remember when I thought that floppy disks were small.

6) Eye glasses Since my eye glasses got in the picture I decided to keep them there and not crop them out---because without them I could not see many of the documents and images that I store on lapstops and flash drives.

So that's it----these are the items that I can't live without and if I had a time capsule and was not in need of these every day---this are the essential items that would go in it.

My House - Sweet Memories The Book of Me Prompt #5

My childhood home, Ft. Smith Arkansas

As I am told, we lived in a rented house until I was born, and a few months afterwards, my parents purchased an old house on a hill in Ft. Smith. It was the only home I ever knew, and it was, for me, my kingdom!

The house sits on a corner, in Ft. Smith Arkansas, on North 13th are R Streets, and the property actually occupies two and a half lots, with a small rental house on the side street. It was that house where my dreams were born. In that yard I learned to ride my bike--first with training wheels and then later, when I got a sense of balance, I rode the real bicycle that I got for Christmas when I was eight.

The sidewalk on the front below the hill  was where I learned to skate, and where I would draw the hopskotch markings and entertain myself. And I got plenty of skinned knees on that walk way. I also recall that many times the sidewalk on the entire street would be wet on a very dry day--stemming from an underground spring said to be someplace in the vicinity.

The sidewalk in front of house

For many years, we had a garage in the back--where I would sometimes get my nerve to walk upstairs and look at the old relics of the past-- including my old baby bed, discarded pieces of furniture, and memorabilia that I only wish that I had now. But it was later taken down and a car port was added to the back of the house instead.

The property at one time had lots of trees and shrubs---including my favorite plum tree that I used to climb and feel that I was on top of the world. A pecan tree and the plum tree provided shade in the backyard, in the hot humid summer. The side of the property had two massive elm trees, with two beautiful lilac bushes that always made spring so beautiful--not the mention the jonquils that would miraculously appear between our house and the small rental house on the side.  Today the only remnants are one elm tree, one tree stump, and the old walnut tree that is immediately next to the little rental house on the side street.

Gone are the many trees and shrubs

The house was my place of refuge, and in my mind--my way to explore the world. Inside was the entrance foyer, a room to the left side was the front bedroom--my parents room. To the right, the living room, with french sliding doors separating it from the dining room with a built in china closet. The kitchen was in the rear, and my brother's bedroom was off the kitchen, and my own bedroom was in the back off another small hallway.

There, my dreams were made. My joys, and my imagination were filled with books, and music from classical to jazz. In the living room the piano was there, during my 10 years of classical piano lessons, but I much preferred music from my parents' record collections. When I was not listening to music, I was reading, and as much as I loved to be in that old house, because of the books that I read, I knew that I had to get out of the house, get out of the town and see the world that I had come to long for through the many books I read.

This was the place that soothed my soul.

When my mother died in 1997, the spirit of that house began to fade. Once her presence was gone, I knew that my own ties were fading. She had kept the spirit of my dad there, and once she left, I knew that a chapter was closing.

I look with memory at that house on the hill, and smile for it was a place that nourished me, that cradled me, and protected me, and that house on the hill planted seeds for me to go forth and see the world.

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The Book of Me - Prompt #2 When I was Born

I was born on a Saturday evening, four days after Christmas at Twin City Hospital in Ft. Smith Arkansas. In those days there were no birthing centers, and fathers were not allowed in delivery rooms. 

My mom said that she, being an avid reader, was deeply engrossed in a novel that she was reading and had felt some mild discomfort. My grandmother noticed that her "discomfort" was coming about every 5-6 minutes. Finally Grandma was the one who insisted that it was time to go to the hospital. So she put the novel down and was taken to the hospital. She already had a "hospital bag" packed since she knew that I was coming soon.

The hospital was Twin City Hospital, a small hospital built in 1942 to serve the African American community. The maternity ward of the hospital was in the back of the building and my mother always would point out that the ward was where the last window on the right, can be seen.

Twin City Hospital

Source: Ft Smith Historical Society Journal

My father literally worked around the corner. He was a barber and had gone to work that day to the barbershop, as usual. When my mom was taken to the hospital, grandma sent word to him that my mother was in labor. As soon as he heard, he went around the corner to check on her, and was told that it would be a while. He returned to the barber shop--since fathers were not allowed. He decided to close the shop anyway, and returned to the hospital, and was then informed that he had a baby girl. within that short amount of time---a babe was born. Apparently my mom was closer to delivery than she had thought and so I arrived. Six pounds, eight ounces!

My older brother was only about 5 years old and he was quite upset that mommy was not at home, and was said to have been quite a tearful little boy as he did not understand why she was leaving home and going someplace to get a new baby.  However apparently he was a bit enthralled when I arrived home and for several days would tell neighbors as well as strangers, from the postman to the milk man, quite excitedly, "I have a new baby sister." I am always amused by this story when I think of the older brother who would tease me, or tell me to go away, when I wanted to play with his toys. 

However, childhood was a pleasant one growing up in a small town. My parents sheltered the two of us from a more hostile world in the American South, and many things from the outside world did not directly impact our lives for many years. Our childhood was a happy one, fully of laughter and love.

Thankfully though the innocence of childhood is gone, some of the old policies of the time have also gone. The building where I was born is now a business, and hospitals, serve everyone, with no regard to the color of the patients.

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My Book of Me: What I do, Who I am, & My Many Names (Prompt 1)

I have decided to put more energy into writing now that most of my travels are over. And one of the stories that need to be told is my own personal story. I have mentioned how important this is many times. Therefore when a good friend shared with me the wonderful blogging prompt of "The Book of Me" I felt inspired to write just to get myself going again.

I have modified the image and the theme to fit the points that came to my mind as I elected to define myself. These are some of the words than came to mind. I have divided them into categories: What I Do; Who I am, and My Many Names.

What I Do:
These reflect the activities that occupy my time now as well as how I describe myself, and think of myself in a professional category. I have worked for more than 25 years in higher education and still wear several hats from that arena. And as one who explores family history and community history, I have several hats that I wear as I pursue a number of interests in those areas. And there becomes as a result a very thin line between my vocation and avocation.

Writer

Author

Genealogist

Educator

Blogger

Teacher

Mentor

Lecturer

Podcaster

Scrapbooker

Quilter

Collector

Who I Am:

We all have different roles that we have in life. Our relationships can vary as we walk from room to room, and from place to place. But all of them are part of who we are. I see these many categories overlapping each other, for in many instances, I am a friend to to persons with whom I share other kinds of relationships as well. But I embrace and claim all of these categories as they reflect who I consider myself to be, and they reflect those categories that I also am honored to have.

Wife

Friend

Aunt

Great Aunt

Daughter

Sister

Granddaughter

Gr. Granddaughter

My Many Names
Like relationships, we answer to people differently. Likewise the names that I am often called vary from person to person and situation to situation. I was always called by my middle name, Yvette in my childhood home. But once I went to school, the nuns called me Angela and that became my out-in-the-world name. But as our status in life changes, again we take on new identities. Some students and mentees will call me Miss Angela, while others will call me Mrs. Walton. (I always look around for my mother when they call me that.) And some among my husband's friends and colleagues will call me Mrs. Raji.

Having nieces and nephews in different countries and from different cultures, also changes my name. But they are all names that I feel good when I hear them, and they connect me to family, friends and to those whom I love.

Angela

Yvette

Dear

Sweetheart

Aunty Angela

Aunt Yvette

Miss Angela

Girlfriend

Ange

Professor

Mrs. Raji

Ms. Walton

Aunty

Mum

Cuz

Cut'n Angela

As I embark upon this journey to tell my own story I emphasize that these are only a few categories that describe the many things that describe me. I hope however to provide a small glimpse into who I am, beyond my blogs. I look forward to more of these prompts to bring forth my own story.

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