Childhood and Duckies

     Life gently puts it's arms around us when we are young children, it grabs a tighter hold, taking us forward into adulthood.
     We become more serious,  tense, anxious and guarded. There seems to be an almost unrecognizable time when suddenly the reins were pulled in, the blinders were put on and we couldn't see or remember life as children.
     We are busy making ends meet, getting ahead, catching up, planning for the future and/or keeping our heads above water.
     What happened to the child within us? The responsible adult in ourselves has sent our inner child to their room and forgotten that they need to be given permission to come out and play.
     Pay attention to children. They seem to put life's concerns and worries aside. They find pleasure, silliness and laughter in simple things. They're quick to forget, forgive and want to play more. Childhood  keeps important things in perspective. Go back to simple, release your child. They've been waiting way too long.
     Some of the simple things that make me feel my inner child . . . 
 . . . seeing my neighbor's dog get excited, jump, bark and wag her tail to see me and get petted.
 . . . letting the last of the ice cream melt in the bowl and enjoy the liquidy goodness.
 . . . watching the swans fly onto the lake and swoop down with tremendous grace and strength to a gliding landing.
 . . .  having a friend give a long and sincere hug.
. . . sharing a joke.
 . . . making a stranger smile.
 . . . riding a bike.
 . . . . taking a hot evening bubble bath, washing my hair, brushing my teeth, putting on comfy jammies with no makeup or hair styling involved.
 . . . seeing little plastic duckies in the most unusual places.
. . . getting out a hula hoop and jump rope and being amazed that I can do anything at all with them.
 . . . driving through my old neighborhood.
 . . . seeing coloring books and smelling a new box of sharp crayons.
. . .  seeing a Disney movie.
. . . Faygo red pop
 . . . a kiss on the forehead.
Share some of your child inspired simple pleasures.

From long ago

      As a teenager I used to do my mother's hair. It's been a  long time  now. People really don't do hair anything like this anymore.

      We would go down into the basement. She would sit in a painted celery green chair at a table with a plastic flannel backed tablecloth . (She painted almost everything celery green.  I used to dislike it because there was SO MUCH of it at our house. Of course, now I am drawn to it).      

     She was the hairdressee and I was the hairdresser.
A few times a year we'd do a perm.  I remember that nasty smell.

    Most often we'd do a color, or just a wash and a set. It was a time to bond. Always in the evening. And always just us two.
     I'd shampoo and curl her wet hair in the little pink plastic-snap-together curlers or the steel -colored metal clips if she wanted waves. She would sit under the giant General Electric expanding "bouffant"  cap that looked like it was hooked up to a vacuum cleaner. It blew out hot air. It had a round stwardess looking carrying case and was portable as long as you didn't go farther than the electric cord allowed . You looked like an alien gunslinger.

( To see a picture of the exact same one we had go to
 *****      www.popsucker.net/2008/05/retrophilia_general_electronic)


     After my mom's hair was dry,  out came the curlers and I'd comb her soft hair. No hair products, no spray, no high fashion . Simple and pretty.
     Every Saturday, as soon as I would come home from work, I would do her nails. She would hardly let me get out of my uniform. It had to be right now. Nothing fancy. A soaking, a filing and of course her favorite pale pink chiffon colored laquer. I had to be careful of her right hand forefinger that was mangled in her time as a prisoner of war. I never knew how to make it look pretty. and she always had to touch it up herself.

     And every once in a while, I gave my father a manicure too. I filed his nails and rubbed lots of lotion on his dry construction worker rough hands.

    We have put aside the details of grooming and bonding others, our family and friends. We go to professionals that do a marvelously wonderful job. But in that process we have lost a chance to make a memory with those closest to us. Like animals in the wild, grooming each other is a natural behavior. We'd  have idle time for conversation. To open the heart and speak the mind. Or times of quiet to contemplate a prior disagreement and then a coming around.

     Funny, I never minded doing those things.  I never loved doing them either. It was a part of what we did and who we are.

Awakening A MEMORY

Memory. That word alone gives life. How can a memory that has sat idle and forgotten be brought back so vividly and powerful? That memory in the corner of your mind's attic, dusty and  stored long ago. I have recently reconnected with an old friend from high school and nursing school. We were bridesmaids in each other's weddings and shared hours of studying, laughter and positive energy. Constraints of time, family, jobs, children and life in general drew us apart, small pieces at a time. We had lost touch as happens so often. But when we reconnected, a flood of memories and happenings came back, visual images, conversations, trips, and emotions all mingled together. It made me wonder