A Special Gift Idea Have you ever given a journey of memories? It may be only August, but I’m already thinking of Christmas gifts. How do you buy something for a generation of people like my 84-year-old dad, who never valued possessions? One can only give so many warm blanket
Category: Yesteryear
nostalgia olden days long ago
Do you ever feel homesick for days gone by? I do. Not only do I miss the people who are not around anymore, I miss the world of my childhood. I get homesick for days gone by when I drive past a grand old house I used to visit as
I must be a slow learner. Despite getting decent grades in public school and earning some Latin-sounding award on my college diploma, I’ve spent almost 45 years in the educational system. I did manage to escape without peeing my pants even once, so there’s one thing to be proud of.
Time for a pop quiz on oldies music. I can’t help it. I’m a teacher. Everything comes in the form of a quiz. There are three ways to take this quiz. 1) Answer the questions and then research the answers for yourself. That’s the hard way. 2) Reply to this
House on the Highway was published in the 2017 summer issue of Common Ground Magazine. When I was four years old, I lived with my mom, dad, and brother in an old rented farmhouse. A Big Dream I have small fragments of memory from my first home,
“Despite all that has been lost to the savageness of time, there are plenty of reasons to be grateful for the day at hand.” Sometimes, I get homesick for the good old days. You remember those. Back when we rode around the countryside on the back of an open-bed pick-up
The Pennsylvania white-tailed deer and I do not have a peaceful co-existence. I remember driving through Valley Forge late one night and seeing hundreds of deer standing in the fields on both sides of the road. They grazed and looked up at the line of cars on the road but
Watching TV Shows – not in my house Thanks to modern technology, I can now watch all the old TV shows from the 60s and 70s I missed as a child. When I was in kindergarten, all my friends at school were watching TV. There was no television in our
In the fall of 1969, eight-year-old Dawn Howard stared at the display of dolls in a Montoursville department store. She and her siblings were not encouraged to ask for things as children. But the black button eyes, red triangle nose, and thin black smile wouldn’t let go. Dawn asked
The story of an antique, vintage, and nearly classic 1928 Model A Ford I’m glad I’m not a c ar. If I had wheels, I wo uld have been considered an antique as early as 1982 at the age of 20, according to some sources. If I were a vehicle,