I have the best mother. She saved my 1st grade "Me" book all of these years. And now it is in my ownership. The book was a collaboration between my first grade teacher and my art teacher, Mrs. Hollinger. Myrna Hollinger was a renegade art teacher. She taught me that coloring books have no place in a child's life. The facade of her house was covered in all sorts of buttons and pins.
At one point she sold her eclectic upscale jewelry at Neiman's or Barney's. I last saw her when I was in college and worked at a gourmet food store, back in the nineties when they were still called gourmet food stores. She bought a ficelle.
Always striving for less-is-more living, currently I am in purge mode (can you say 8 bags to the Junior League thrift shop last week?) so another object, though replete with nostalgia, is exactly what I don't need.
If I only did this for my own children...
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I love this connecting of history...my own 5 year old, The Wolfman's Brother, with his mother's creation from 35 years ago |
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My memory of going to the movie theater with Rachel Rezak, a couple of friends, and her dad, is so sweet. We went to Mario's for pizza afterwards and everyone was able to get half a can of soda. You know what? That's all a child really needs, if any. But those were the days before we drank water, so I was likely thirsty from the pizza. We didn't know any better. |
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The word daven was yet to enter my lexicon. |
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Gelt. Now that is a good thing to give kids for Hanukkah gifts. |
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We used oil with the paint in water to create the paper on which the drawings were glued. |
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