1. Our mother always tipped gas-station attendants.
2. There were stereo speakers in our kitchen.
3. Our close friends had an uncle who worked in the kitchen at the Waldorf. Their income always unsteady, supplies were sparse, but colorful; the kids ate caviar sandwiches on Wonder Bread.
4. Our English grandfather, who lived with us, played the short-rib bones between his fingers as percussion instruments.
5. Our mother had only one dependable recipe: baked rosemary chicken. It was perfect every time.
6. We grew up in Douglaston, New York, four blocks from John McEnroe, with whom I took group tennis lessons when we were little.
7. The people across the street from us raised Great Danes who they named for Greek gods. The mother wore a crash helmet in the kitchen because she was short and exactly the height of the bottom corners of the open cabinet doors.
8. One wall of our parents’ bedroom was a tromp l’oeil bookcase, the books of which were cut from wallpaper and laid evenly on thin molding spaced to look like shelving.
9. Our mother had an affair that lasted 20 years.
10. I didn’t know.
11. Our father didn’t know.
12. Margaret knew.
13. The doctor across the street kept everybody’s secrets, including ours. After she climbed the ladder one night to our parent’s second-story bedroom window, looked in, exchanged a few words with our mother, climbed down, she reported only that no, our mother would not be unlocking the bedroom door anytime soon.
14. A sportswriter, our father worked Saturdays.
15. Our mother was always said to have the best legs in town.
16. We took ballroom-dancing lessons to which we wore white gloves.
17. There was a lock on our liquor cabinet, but the key was always in it.
18. On the landing of our staircase leading upstairs was an eight-foot-tall stained-glass window of St. George slaying the dragon.
19. In the dining room were stained-glass windows of ships under sail and a full-length
portrait of a seated boy whom no one could identify.
20. We served homemade cranberry ice at Thanksgiving.
21. One year we didn’t throw out our Christmas tree until Easter.
22. The phrase our maternal grandmother always used to straighten up our manners was, “Girls, let’s be Emily Post-ish.” When she said “girls,” she was referring to Margaret, our mother, and me; the last two of us always laughed.
23. The house we lived in had been built by a Finnish beer baron for his mistress; he built an exact replica across the bay for his wife.
24. Our mother had grown up in the neighborhood, always coveting that house.
25. I loved it, too.
______
TSP sisters Paige Smith Orloff and Anastasia Smith (no, none of us TSP Smiths are genetically related) have also done 25 Random Things, as has most of the universe lately. Read Paige’s, and Anna’s.
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{ 18 comments… read them below or add one }
Ah, Marion, I love, love, love your list of 25. #13 is priceless, a gift to your readers. I know my head will be in your mother’s bedroom today, thinking about all the possibilities of what was going on there. The exercise makes me think of one of my writing teachers over at Bennington, Sven Birkerts, who urges me to stop standing at one spot in a scene with my “camera” at a fixed angle. His advice is to give a wide shot sometimes, before giving the middle distance action, and then to linger on the close up details. Listing twenty-five things about any memoir period one is writing about seems a brilliant exercise to get those gems out of long-term storage…Thanks for sharing! Off to write my 25….Kathryn
Welcome back, Kathryn. Lovely to hear from you again. Thank you. I love that advice from your Bennington teacher; we should all take it. Very generous of you, and of him. Yes, getting those things out of long-term storage is exactly what this does. Such a good phrase. Thanks for that. I honestly was amazed at how much was there from which to select once I put the subconscious on “search.” Write your 25, sister – and share it here, if you’d like. We’d love to read it.
I have terrible writers block (whatever that is) and yet, I know I can come up with 25 things. What a great way to break through that block. THANKS!
Hi, Rachel: Welcome back. Lists are amazing, aren’t they?
In our TSP infancy, I wrote about them as a way to tackle a difficult tale: http://thesisterproject.com/roach/the-list-that-helps-with-loss/
Writer’s block is simply not knowing what to write next. Viewed as that, a list is an instant liberator. (So is research, but I’ll write about that soon, in my regular memoir posts, so keep checking).
But lists. Oh, I love lists. They can appear to be random, as do those of our TSP sisters, Paige http://thesisterproject.com/have-you-seen-25-sides-of-paige/ and Anastasia http://thesisterproject.com/our-youngest-sisters-25-things/, or there can be tucked into them the attempt at narrative, as I tried to tuck into mine.
Though I’d never use the word “random” for any, since any list from any one writer has her voice. So random? I don’t think so, though that was the original meme theme Paige addressed. And look how it got us writing.
Hmmm, but where’s Margaret’s list, I wonder?
Write your list and please let us see it, Rachel.
Marion, thanks for painting the portrait of your childhood in 25 pixels. In mine is this: I was a boy without grandparents. So I borrowed my cousin Frankie’s Grandmother Casey, and never returned her. And Frankie never knew!
Loved the list, what a great idea! It is a story within itself, but also collage of possibilities. Many of them seem like they could be an intriguing first sentence to the rest of the story, all of which I would love to read. The list also provides an avenue to record a bunch of little facts that you may never elaborate on, but they will be there, stimulating the imagination for future generations.
Hi, David. Welcome. I laughed right out loud at your own pixelated version of you, Frankie and Frankie’s Grandmother Casey. All writers, writers-in-training, and writers-to-be, take note: the sentence in David’s comment that begins, “So I borrowed,” and ends with “returned her,” is perfect. Thank you, David. Please visit again soon–and often.
Hello, Tracey. Welcome to TSP. I love the phrase “collage of possibilities.” Yes, lists are that, aren’t they? That gives me a whole other way to look at them; as well as something completed, lists are also something to use again and again. Writers love that kind of tool, as well as friends who point out these tools to us. Thank you. Please visit us again soon.
Marion – OK, I’m hooked. My brother believes the first two items on my list are true and says I have imagined the rest. He can make his own list. Donna
1. We moved every eighteen months from the time I was 4 until I turned 14.
2. Of the 7 elementary schools I attended, three of them were named Roosevelt.
3. My brother told me that water towers were actually the big screw that held the earth together. I believed him until I was 9, two years longer than I believed in Santa Claus.
4. My grandfather made the bronze lighting fixtures that hang in the chapel at West Point and the National Cathedral.
5. When I went to a funeral at the National Cathedral I spent the entire time looking at the lighting, not following the proceedings. I began to read the priest’s prayer in full voice in front of 1,000 people. My brother kicked me.
6. My grandfather and his brother quit school to run beer to the factory workers for August Busch in St. Louis, Mo. I was terrified of the Busch family. They has scary beards, even the women. At the employee picnics, I thought people were watching how much food you took and children were expected to be quiet. Still, my grandfather asked me to take him every year until he was nearly 70, even though he retired from beer running at 15. The beer was free.
7. Of all the dogs that owned us I loved the first one, Raffles, the best. He died when I was at Girl Scout camp . I never forgave myself for leaving him.
8. Because my father worked for a large hotel corporation, we sometimes lived in hotels. We had to make our own beds and ride the service elevators. I learned to cook on the big stainless steel tables in the kitchens at the Waldorf. At the Palmer House, I could slide from the 17th floor to the basement laundry bins in 26 seconds. I could make it is 10 seconds wrapped in a sheet. It is still a better rush than any roller coaster.
9. We had wine with dinner ever since I can remember.
10. Every morning my father asked me, “What will you accomplish today?”
11. Every night at dinner we were quizzed on the lead stories in the Washington Post.
12. Our family didn’t own a house until I was 15. I thought it was because we poor and had to live in hotels.
13. My father took my to my first opera, La Boheme, at the New York City Center. I immediately decided I would become a costume designer.
14. I wrote a letter to Edith Head and she wrote back, telling me to “practice my craft by making doll clothes.” My dolls were the best dressed of any I have ever known.
1 5. I made all the clothes for Peter Pan at the Darien High School 10th grade play. I wanted to be Wendy but I lost the part to Susie Shepard.
16. I made my wedding dress.
17. I wrote to Barbara Walters to ask if she would speak to my 11th grade civic’s class. She never answered me, but I got a job application for NBC news. I think the letter reader got confused.
18. I am profoundly grateful for my oldest friend. She is a fabulous artist and we have sustained our connection for nearly 50 years.
19. Because I moved 16 times before I was done I fell in love with books, libraries and trains. These are still among the best companions I know.
Hello, Donna. And welcome. You’re right: Your brother can make his own list since this one is very much your own. Look at all the characterization here–the joy of riding the laundry chute, the brassiness of writing to Edith Head and Barbara Walters, the pride in your father’s morning question. Just wonderful. Thank you. Please visit often, and when you do, give us the other 6 of your list of 25. Ha!
Dear Marion,
Re: numbers 9-12, please see this followup post.
Very truly yours,
Margaret
Ok, so I can’t count. Here’s the other six things you might not know about me:
20. I ruined my eyesight by wearing glasses I didn’t need in order to catch the eye of a guy I thought quite intellectual. Turns out he was a phony but I still need the glasses 45 years later.
21. I wanted to be a Mouseketeer so badly that I applied 14 times. I got 14 pairs of ears and a signed picture of Cubby. They never asked me to tryout.
22. I have been chosen to give flowers to 3 Presidents. I would rather have been a Mouseketeer.
23. No one was more surprised than I was after winning a big-ten college swim meet. I did the breast stroke. My husband says it explains a lot about me. I never have asked him what he means.
24. Two days before he died, I was impatient with my 90 years old grandfather for refusing help with his hearing aide. I still haven’t forgiven myself. I am learning about forgiveness and when I master it, that is the first thing I’ll forgive.
25. Making people laugh is a wonderful gift and I am glad I have been given a measure of good humor. I am working harder at remembering that focusing on the funnier, ironic slices of life does not mean I have to be the entertainment.
Welcome back, Donna. I see you elsewhere on the site and it makes me very happy. http://thesisterproject.com/roach/donna-reedpeyton-place-part-2/#comments
You know, focusing on the funny is a grand idea. That and the fact that you can’t libel the dead may be the two best guides in writing memoir. Ha!
I’m hooked too! What a great way to get the ball rolling. Here’s my first 25 –
25 Random Things About My Childhood
(Life growing up in a family of nine: Mom, Dad, seven kids, three bedrooms and one shower.)
1.Dad called them military showers – “get in, turn around and get out”. My Dad removed the lock when we were kids and only replaced it after we had all moved out.
2.My brothers and father (all 6 foot plus) had to duck to get down the main staircase.
3.Dad whistled when he wanted us to come running; for dinner, in department stores, at the fair, in the park, in a neighbor’s yard. One year, Dad’s whistle quit on him, so he quickly found a surrogate whistler in our next door neighbor.
4.There was a time when Mom bought 8 gallons of milk and 10 loaves of bread each week.
5.We raised our hands at the table in order to speak and said “may I please be excused” before we could leave.
6.If we were having pot pies for dinner, Dad would carve our initials into the frozen pies so there would be no fights when dinner was ready.
7.I have never known a time when my dad was NOT on a diet.
8.Dad insisted we answer the phone “Hello, this is first-middle-last name, may I help you?”
9.We always wore homemade Halloween costumes, blew out candles on round, two-tier homemade birthday cakes and sent homemade, red construction paper and lace Valentine’s to our grandmothers.
10.Every Christmas morning, my Dad would line us up on the stairs and, after peaking around the corner to see if the coast was clear, fake getting grabbed around the throat by Santa.
11.Mom invariably exclaimed, “well isn’t that nice” when she opened a present. My brothers cured her of it one Mother’s Day when she unwrapped a velvet painting of Elvis. It was the first and last year my sisters and I left the present buying to them.
12.Dadisms included “win some, lose some”, “kemosabe”, “capisce?” and “don’t ask me I only work here”. Momisms included “wait until your father comes home” and “you know your father loves you” after he lost his temper.
13.Our backyard neighbors had a pool and judiciously allowed neighborhood kids from smaller families to join them. We watched our friends cool off on hot summer days through gaps in the fence.
14.We had an incredibly dedicated babysitter named Beth, but went through family style restaurants like a hot knife through butter.
15.Dad insisted we all go to church and that the boys wore dress slacks and ties and the girls wore skirts. He scrutinized our outfits before mass, making us chronically late. Despite this, Dad always took large strides down the center isle with us following behind like ducklings. The minute we sat down, he made sure we all had our missalettes open and then promptly fell asleep.
16.Mom made our school lunches on partially defrosted bread that would be soggy by the time we ate them. Mom never knew this until she overheard her thirty-something children reminiscing one Thanksgiving.
17.Dad started a Saturday morning basketball league with donated balls and cheap t-shirts because he didn’t want us watching Saturday morning cartoons, “like dumb driven cattle”.
18.Dad listened to 8 track tapes in the living room before dinner through big nerdy headphones. When called to the table he would loudly ask, “WHAT?”
19.In the morning , there was always a baby in the jolly jumper between the dining room and the kitchen. He/she literally “hung out” while the Mom helped Dad and kids get ready for the day.
20.Mom and Dad insisted we walk to school even though we lived far enough to take the bus.
21.I was 28 before I ever had dinner with my Dad alone. I was afraid I wouldn’t know what to say.
22.My brother was randomly shot in the arm in Syracuse while I was living in England. Every time I hear the story I feel like I have amnesia because I was only told after it was all OK.
23.My younger brother got very sick his last year of college, leaving my grandmother to watch three unruly teenage boys and my younger sister for weeks at a time. Amongst other things, the boys convinced her that the town garbage rules dictated only one can could be dragged out to the road each week.
24.My brothers know stories my sisters and I don’t.
25.The walls were bare growing up, now they are covered with wedding and baby photos and tell the story of how nine became 20. Photos are parked in close proximity, leaving room for more.
Hi, Rachel. Welcome back. Great list. The one that makes me lean in and then absolutely fall into your story is 13, about watching smaller families cool off the the neighbor’s pool. Oh, that’s gorgeous in its breadth. There is an enormous story there, as there is with Beth, the babysitter who, I suspect, has achieved in-life sainthood. Wonderful: Funny, touching, provocative; the characterizations you provide are swift and yet deep. Great, great. Thank you. Please keep coming back.
I am having a less than stellar day. I am needy &weepy – because an old wound has accidentally been re-opened. So, to change my mood and the direction of my day I am going to list 25 random things from my childhood (which WAS stellar!) and move forward to a better day!
1. I used to sing everywhere I went. My mother is a world class musician -Organ, piano and chior direction mainly. My father is not. I take after my father. Always have. I would sing while walking to school, riding my bike to the store, in lines waiting…I would sing Hymns (all the verses -did you know there are umpteen verses to some hymns?) patriotic songs & Christmas Carols. Did I mention, I can not carry a tune? Did I mention I am not shy?
2. I would sit in a box every afternoon on Sierra Madre Blvd. and watch the world go by. Sierra Madre Blvd is the road that the Rose Parade is on every Jan.1st! & I must have gotten the idea for this from watching the parade (I can’t explain the box).
3. I rode a bike with no seat. Tricky!
4. Our city park had a “Toy-Loan” -a library of toys and I only and always borrowed a Pogo-stick.
5. I never ran away from home. But, I did assist a friend to “walk away” from his home and then he changed his mind. No one ever knew.
6. I made a false police report once. I made up a fantastical story about a man dressed all in green who supposedly stole something from the neighbors and the police told my parents afterwards they had the real culprit already in their cruiser, but that they had to check out my story. I went to bed without supper.
7. I walked to school and church and I took different routes depending on the seasons and my mood. Such as- if the weather was HOT, I could run through sprinklers near school to cool off, walk home and be dry when I arrived. Other routes afforded other options like “Jacaranda Snow” in summer because certain unconnected streets were lined with jacaranda trees and after a heavy bloom they would shower “lavender snow”. I loved to walk a higgledy-piggledy route home through that “snow”.
8. I hated hair in my eyes (still do). The minute my bangs grew to my eyes we had to go get my hair cut.
9. I never could nap (still can’t).
10. I could never do the splits (still can’t).
11. I went to the City Librarian in the children’s section and asked when I could go and get books in the adult section. She had to ask someone. I think they are still discussing this…
12. I would go to the drugstore to read the comic books and the druggist let me stay all day. I never bought anything.
13. I would go to the gift shop in town, called “The Keepsake” run by a british woman, and read the greeting cards. The woman would let me stay all day. I never bought anything.
14. We did not have a t.v. until I was in high school. My grandmothers had t.v.s -So, I watched Lassie & Bonanza with them…
15. I never read Dr. Seuss. I read every other children’s lit; A. A. Milne, C. S. Lewis, Laura Ingalls Wilder, L.M. Alcott & Montgomery, and on and on, but not that. I asked my dad when I was in college why no Seuss? Was there something wrong with it? Dad said “No. He just didn’t like the pictures”…
16. I never had Barbie doll. I had Betsy- Wetsy, Chatty- Cathy & Raggedy Ann
17. I cry at the drop of a hat, and I cry reading books and watching movies. In grade school the teacher read us “Old Yeller” and I balled.
18. I can cross just one eye.
19. I believe in Santa Claus. Did. Do. Will always.
20. My neighbor & grade school girl friend was named Josie. Her Mother called her Josie Pheen, “Josie Pheen come to dinner.” or “Josie Pheen do your homework!”, etc… So, I asked my mom if Josie could come for dinner and she said I should ask Mrs. Pheen. I did. She came. Life was wonderful. It was months, maybe years, before we figured out her last name was Calderon.
21. On these same lines, when I was 5 we lived with my Grandmother and she went from Calif. to Miami to visit relatives. I was impressed with this unique happening, as no one had traveled anywhere before that I had known. When my Uncle came to take her to the airport, he said that some day “he wanted to go to Miami” to which I said “No -It’s Grandma’s Ami”.
22. I loved to fill out forms as kid. I would pick up diner’s club applications at restaurants and spend hours filling them out with the information of characters I created.
23. I loved to draw caricatures on scraps of paper, napkins and placemats of teachers, friends and family that were quite funny. I learned this from my dad who did this as well. We sometimes drew silly pictures of each other drawing!
24. My Auntie had me over for a weekend once and spent the whole time teaching me to play solitaire because I was an only child and “needed to be able to entertain myself”.
25. My Mom was sick when I was 5 and almost died. She spent 2 months in the hospital and during that time I lived with a (different) Auntie and Uncle and four cousins. Although I remember it fondly, I was glad to go home.
Hi, Karen. Feel better? I know I did after making my own list of 25 Random Things. Listing is a fine way to focus, don’t you think? Thanks for sharing this with us. Just for the record, I had the Barbie, and Margaret had a Betsy Wetsy. I love the Josie Pheen storuy. just marvelous. Hope You’ll come back soon.
Hi Marion, Yes, thank you, I feel much better. The exercise was just the ticket to a better mood. In fact, this whole place has made me feel better. I am in your debt. By chance, my college roommate is here for the weekend. I told her my woes and also of this list…Then, we just calculated that we have known each other 29 years. Egad! I am asking her to tell me her 25 random things from her childhood and I am learning so much!
Cheers, Karen
Oh, Karen. We’re so glad for all those bountiful things for you: That TSP is enjoyable; that your sister-friend is visiting and that you got her to make you a list. How marvelous, and how great of you to tell your sisters here at TSP. Thanks so much. We look forward to hearing from you soon again.