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Bushel Pillow

When the grandgirls were little and came for a visit I remember singing to them.  I tucked them in at night to Mr. Sandman, recorded in 1954 by the Chordettes.  And there was the popular song from the 50’s sung by Doris Day,  A Bushel and a Peck, a happy piece from my own youth.  My best friend Kit and I actually made a recording of us singing, “I love you, a bushel and a peck, You bet your purdy neck I do!” They used to have booths in the old days where for a quarter you could have your picture taken and even make a recording!  The little record we made disappeared over the years, but the song still makes me smile.

Then all of a sudden I was a Grandmother who loved to make her grandgirls laugh.  They knew and I knew Grammy really could not carry a tune so there was always a lot of giggling going on.

My grandgirls are all grown up now and the tucking in days are over.  But last year for my birthday they came bearing a special gift – a pillow!

But it is not just any old pillow.

This one is a pillow full of memories!

And it has a home in the “kids’ room” where we sang those happy songs.  I love the memories of the laughter and the love, and I am so glad my grandgirls remember too.

And Kit, if you are reading this, “Thanks for the memories”!

Published in 2016 by Okmusix

 

 

 

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I forgot to tell you about singing.

I like to think I sing well even if I have a bit of a problem with dancing (no rhythm and no balance).

But, I don’t sing in the shower because I’m afraid I might scare myself.

Sometimes I sing in the car but only going at high speed with the windows open to drown things out.

I was in the Glee Club in 6th grade when the teacher asked me to silently mouth the words.

But the real confirmation of this handicap came when I crooned lullabies to my infant son and he only screamed louder.

As he got older, if I started to sing, he would run out of the room.

He would wake up and pull the covers over his head when I sang, “It’s time to get up.  It’s time to get up.  It’s time to get up in the mornnnnnning!”

And when he became a Dad himself, if I started to sing, he would still quickly leave the room.

It wasn’t long until my three grandgirls figured this out and used it as a new tool in their arsenal of coping with parents.

If their Dad was in the room, they would all chime out at once, “Grammy – Sing!”

Worked like a charm (a foolproof way to get rid of Dad).

Singing is not such a problem as being known as an awkward dancer or tripping up the stairs, but it’s a demeaning characteristic nevertheless.   So I will never be a song and dance man woman!  I can live with that.

Lots of blogger pals sympathized with my dancing handicap.

What a pleasure to find like minds and folks who are also clumsy and can’t dance!

How are you at singing?

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