31 Days of Halloween: Day 19 - Halloween Today Vs. Halloween 1970s Style

Below I show you what passes today in 2012 as a Native American "Indian" Halloween costume for girls and tweens:

 

And below here, I show you how it looked when I rocked "Indian girl" back in the late 1970s... along with my creepy brother:

I think I liked Halloween better when things were old-school.

My, how the times have changed.

Old Photo Friday: Driving Miss Anna

Life in semi-rural Virgina, mid-1970s.

Idyllic, no?

I know this Old Photo Friday is late again. I blame summer.

Note: I still have the Creative Playthings cart shown above. My kids used to give each other fast-paced rides in it, zooming up and down the hallway in our NYC apartment house. Out here in the suburbs, it gets less use. I should totally move it back into the rotation.

Old Photo Friday: Goin' Fishin'

When I was a kid, we had a pond stocked with fish. There was a rickety dock, too as you can see in today's Old Photo Friday.

I have lots of memories of hanging out by the pond - the honeysuckle, the poison berries, the peach tree - but mostly I remember my mom fishing. Out of all of us, she was the real fisherman.

And there was one summer that I remember more than all the others put together.

It was the summer my mother waged a Moby Dick-esque battle against the biggest (and smartest) fish in the pond. This was the kinda fish that fish stories are about. The kinda fish you remember a quarter-century later, and write blog posts about. If fish were celebrities, this one was at least on the D-list.

This fish could not be caught no matter what my mom did.

Fishing poles - and more and better fishing poles - were bought.

Bait was finessed.

Times of day were analyzed, considered, debated.

Friends, like Barbara in the photo above, were invited over to give their advice.

But alas, this clever fish could not be caught.

Finally, at the very, very end of the summer my mother was victorious.

She had won the epic battle, and there lay the fish hooked and helpless.

I remember feeling so much elation on her behalf - she had done it! The fish was caught! Sweet victory!

But in the end, my mom couldn't bring herself to keep the fish.

Grown now, I get it.

But then, my child-self could not fathom how you could toss your adversary right back into the pond.

I post stories and photos from the past every Friday. See them all here.

Old Photo Friday: Ducks!

My brother and me, and two "ducks."

Update received from my mother:

They were geese not ducks.  I was going 2 use them as property guards.

Old Photo Friday: My Cat Casper

When I was five, my beloved grandfather "Gramps" gave me a cat for my birthday. She was a beautiful black and white cat, and I named her Casper, after Casper the Friendly Ghost, my favorite TV show.

Secretly, I knew it didn't make sense, as my Casper was not a white cat, but still, I loved T.V.-Casper and knew it was the perfect name for my cat, whether she was ghostly white or not.

With Casper.

After a few days with Casper, it became apparent that either Casper or my older brother (who it turns out, is deathly allergic to cats) was going to have to go.

In an incredibly rookie move my mom asked me which I'd like to keep, my cat or my brother. I looked at the lady like she was an idiot, and replied like it was the most obvious answer in the world (because to a five-year-old it was) "THE CAT!!!"

The next day, Casper was gone. I was shocked, incredulous - "But I TOLD YOU I wanted to keep THE CAT!"

And yet, despite my crying, wailing, and hysterics there was no reversing of her opinion.

Casper was relocated across the street, in what can only be described as the cat's lucky break. Casper went on to live a long, indulged and incredibly happy life with an elderly, retired and kind couple who gave the cat - really my cat - her very own room, as well as an entire other room just for her cat toys.

And me? I got liberal visitation rights to see Casper.

Visiting Casper in her new home.

And the knowledge that despite all appearances to the contrary, a great wrong had happened here.


I'm taking a trip down memory lane every Friday until I get bored of digging around my old photos, or until I run out of material.

I'm linking-up to Yeah Write, click here to read more stories from this incredible writing community.

Old Photo Friday: Portrait of a Young Fashionista

That's me in the 1970s, at home in semi-rural Virginia. Clearly, I started developing my fashion sense early.

I found the photo as I was digging around for more duck photos for my Big Duckie board on Pinterest.

I haven't found any duck-themed pics yet, but I did find these nice one of my brother and me and our two pet geese.

Oh, what a different time it was.

I'll be posting old photos every Friday until I get bored or run out of material.

GO NOVA!

Jill Biden to teach at our hometown school.