Russell and Minnie Blood at Valley School

Would Mother Think This Job Was Good Enough?

One time while I was assigned to mop the kitchen floor on my hands and knees I thought I was finished after working on it.  Big mistake.  Mother, the eagle-eyed inspector, thought I had done an awful job and told me to do it over again.  Ever since then, I have had a subliminal prompting when doing similar jobs that asks me to ponder: "Would Mother think this job is good enough?" 

Mother always expected no less than our best.  When I was in the fifth grade, I missed school from December 1 until late March with mysterious after effects of chicken pox and mumps.  Louise brought my assignments, lessons, and materials home for classes.  Mother, who had taught elementary school before her marriage, was my teacher.  I can guarantee that I got straight A's (we were graded 1's, 2, 3, 4, 5) in every subject.  I wonder what I might have learned if Mom had home schooled me all the way through school, much of which was a waste of time.  I could have learned more in two hours a day than I did all day in school.  The main thing I learned in sixth grade, for example, was to draw and color a map of France.  I have disliked France ever since and, especially, when I had to pass a reading knowledge of French for my Ph.D. at the University of Michigan.  I thought then of that map of France I spent so much time on in the sixth grade in between pestering the girl who sat in front of me.  We learned to color inside the lines in the first grade and, besides, Louise taught me to read before I went to school so there wasn't much to do but piddle around.  I got expelled (promoted?) out of the second grade.  By Junior High, I discovered I had a "bad attitude" which kept me out of the National Junior Honor Society even though I had one of the highest grade averages in the class.  Problem was, I had no idea I had a bad attitude until I got my report card.

I still wonder as I mop the tile on the kitchen floor if Mother would think I had done a good enough job, or if she would tell me to do it over.  "Any job worth doing, etc., etc., etc., is worth doing well."  It wasn't worth trying to put anything over on her again.  Another teaching ingrained for life.

Dear Little House

This little saying hung in Mother and Dad's home in Tumwater. I had such dreams of cross stitching it, however, as you can tell, that hasn't happened, yet. However, I remember the tender feelings I had when I first saw this hanging on the east wall by the kitchen cabinet in the Tumwater house. I always felt it spoke volumes of what meant the most to our parents.

Oh What Do You Do In The Summertime?

If I have posted this previously, forgive. Today is a hot summer day and I was just remembering how these two dry land farmers acted the first time they saw the Pacific Ocean in 1961. This is the only time I think that I ever saw Dad's bare legs. They loved the cool water and played like two kids. What a fun day that was.

Hmmm Where Did This Come From

Last night at the reception for Dwight's granddaughter, he and I were talking about the amazing amount of historical treasures we have been able to share through the blog. As I was looking through a few things this morning (I am really supposed to be outside planting the flower beds and tomato plants), I found an absolute treasure and wanted to share it.