One Year!

Can it be possible that I have only posted one post to this blog all year? Yep--that's all I did. Better get my thinking cap on and get back to it? Any requests about Firth information? I'm "un-inspired".

The Kids!

Over the years I have been blessed with good friends. I consider them one of the greatest treasures of my lifetime. They have helped me through the difficult times, and laughed with me during the silly times. We've shared heartache, joy, sorrow, recipes, stories, phone chat, secrets, walks, windstorms, quilts, gifts, and fun. We have been a good "support system" to one another. This photo was taken at a luncheon I had at my new house last spring. We spent the afternoon eating and playing games. We've worked hard to get to this stage in our lives and plan to enjoy all that life has to offer in the coming years. Thanks Marsha and Tonya--you're AWESOME! Smooches!

Christmas!

I was a true believer! If ever there was a believer in Santa Claus it was, and is, me! In the weeks leading up to Christmas the days passed ever so slowly. While other families had their trees up and decorated, my mother refused to put our tree up until a week before Christmas. This only added to the agony! Once the tree was up the whole house seemed to fill with heavenly scent of fresh evergreen. We could "feel" the cold of the tree as it was brought in from outdoors and placed in that old red and green metal stand. The entire family helped decorate it, but my mother always insisted that she do the icicles (I find that a lot of kids today don't know what icicles are--they're long, slender strands of shiny silver that hang over the tree branches). She wanted them to hang perfectly. Of course we had Christmas music playing on the old stereo and my joy was complete. Then--more waiting!

On Christmas Eve I could hardly stand it. The minute it started getting dark I was perched at the living room window watching the night sky for any signs of Rudolph's blinking red nose. I think Rudolph must be pretty sneaky, because as hard as I tried, I never could see him. My father or mother would read from the scriptures about the birth of the Christ Child--the Savior of us all. We'd have a quick gift exchange and then back to the window I went. When it was time for bed, we'd all quickly find the biggest stocking (always my father's) and set it on the couch for Santa to fill. I remember laying in bed trying so hard to fall asleep, but no sleep would come. In the middle of the night I'd get up to see if Santa had come. I'd quietly turn on the tree lights and lo and behold--what a glorious spread! Each gift was wrapped (some were partially wrapped and the exposed side was pushed up against the wall), but I'd scurry around the tree trying to find a package addressed to "Deonne". Then I'd hear, "Get back in bed." Snooping time was over--I had to wait until we got the "ok" to get up. We each got our own apple, orange, tangerine, nuts, and candy--now that was generosity! That Santa Claus--he's quite an amazing fellow. Can't wait for him to show up this year! Merry Christmas to All . . .

Gift of a Lifetime

When I was growing up stores didn't carry toys year round like they do now. The toys came in after Thanksgiving and were deemed as seasonal items. So when the toys hit the shelves you knew it wouldn't be long before Santa Claus made his grand journey. It made Christmas so much more exciting. I remember going to Huntsman's grocery store in Shelley (then located on main street) with my mother. Right above the produce sat the most fantastic creation ever--my dream doll. She was 28" tall and came with her own hair dryer, brushes, combs, and curlers. Each time we went to the store I stood and stared at the doll while my mother shopped. To my great joy dream dolly was waiting under the tree for me on Christmas morning. I quickly pulled her out of the box, grabbed a cup of water, wet her hair and started rolling it in curlers. My father (being typically male) snapped at me--something about "ruining" the new doll. My mother grabbed dad by the elbow, whispered something in his ear, at which he quickly mellowed. He came, gave me a big hug, and told me to "have fun." I will never forget that doll, the incident and that Christmas as it was to be the last Christmas we ever had with my father. To my surprise, I came upon dream dolly on ebay this morning. You can bet I placed a bid for her and am anxiously awaiting the response of the seller. They say you can't buy memories--but I'm certainly going to try. Wish me luck!

Karl, Ed & Billie

Now anyone who's lived in Firth during the last few decades will know about Karl, Ed, & Billie. These three were the Jenkins brothers and lived in Basalt for years. For whatever reason, all three of these grown men were mentally handicapped. They also became known as the town "characters" and many a story was passed along regarding them. Each brother had his own quirks and personality. After someone told Karl that he'd go to hell if he didn't go to church he started attending regularly. He wasn't always happy with what he heard however, and occasionally would stand up and shout "You're a damn liar!" (I suspect others in the congregation may have had similar thoughts.) You rarely saw him without a big old cigar in his mouth and he was the more intimidating of the three brothers for me.

Billie was in love with his bicycle--I never saw him without it. He was of slender build, sat with his legs crossed at the knees, and while smoking his cigarettes, often observed those around him as if they were inferior to him. He was the quieter of the three brothers and I don't remember much about him.

And then there was Ed. Now Ed and I had a personal relationship--unbeknownst to me. I worked at the Tree House when I was a teenager and Ed came into the restaurant on a frequent basis. He usually came in for a cup of coffee and some chatter. Mostly he ranted and raved about how he was "gonna get DRUNK!" Apparently that statement got a "rise" out of people so I think he said it often for that intended purpose. Being the only young girl working at the Tree House, Ed developed a crush on me. He would often order his cup of coffee, give a quarter tip to the waitress with express instructions to give this to "that other girl". I got razzed about it from my friends and co-workers. Then came Valentine's Day. Ed went all over town telling people that he had given his girlfriend "chocolates" for Valentine's Day. Girlfriend--being me! Well, I got no chocolates from Ed--nor from anyone else for that matter. But I got the teasing! A few weeks later I was talking to my Aunt Loraine and she was telling me that her best friend Wanda was surprised on Valentine's Day to open her front door and find a box of chocolates sitting on the step. Wanda had gotten MY CHOCOLATES! What's more--Wanda had eaten those chocolates. I got the razzing--Wanda got the chocolates! The only consolation I got from that situation was the knowledge that Crazy Ed had no idea where I actually lived! Thank heaven for BIG favors!

Woodward Brothers Potatoes

My mother worked in Firth as a bookkeeper working for two brothers, Jay & Glenn Woodward, at their potato packaging business. Mom always loved numbers. From the time she was a small child she loved to watch her grandfather *work the numbers* at the Dye Mercantile in Basalt--numbers fascinated her. Once I was old enough to work (age 14), she was able to secure a job for me after school and on weekends. Since my mother was widowed at age 36 I think the Woodward brothers saw this as an opportunity to help her.

I actually enjoyed the work there--it wasn't bad and the pay was good. It gave me cash to buy school clothes and other things I needed. Woodward's was located east of the railroad tracks right across from the current taxidermy shop. It consisted of several small old wooden buildings--one housed the office--the rest of them housed the equipment and machinery. Trucks loaded with potatoes would empty onto a belt which transported the spuds into a water spray for cleaning, on to another bed to be sorted and then routed to their packaging destination. That's where I came in. I stood at a hopper filled with potatoes. I pushed a button until the potatoes filled my bucket which also determined their weight. We usually filled 10# bags. If too many potatoes filled my bucket I had to throw some back until the weight was approximately ten pounds. The bags were placed on a belt behind me where another person would staple or tie the bags shut. They were then placed into a larger 50# paper bag and loaded onto a waiting railroad boxcar outside the front double doors. All of this was done manually--and with a large amount of "chatter". We often rotated positions so no one got too tired doing one thing. The first hopper naturally filled faster and was more work. We rotated down the line and then got to work behind the line stapling. This was a nice change as it could be done while sitting. Then on to "flipping" the bags into the larger paper bag. There was quite an art to getting five smaller bags into that larger one and it took a bit of practice until I could get it right. Sounds easy and it was (kind of) until we were busy and the potatoes were coming faster than we could keep up. Occasionally they would have to stop the whole operation and give us time to empty our hoppers--then on we went again. What I remember most about Woodward's was the musty, earthy smell of wet potatoes. To this day--some 45 years later--I can still smell Woodward's Potatoes and with it comes many pleasant memories. I enjoyed the people I worked with, enjoyed the work, and loved being able to see my mom during breaks and at lunchtime. Thank you Glenn and Jay--thank you so very much!

The Melba Theatre

Ok folks, this movie theatre was before my time but I feel I need to include what "little" I know about it. My mother always spoke of a theatre in Firth. It was hard for me to imagine any building large enough to provide entertainment on that level. The building was owned by Grant Collet and shared a common wall with Collet's Bar. It sat north of the bar and was in operation during the 1940's. Admission to the movies was probably about ten cents and it was a rare treat for the children in the community to be able to attend. Mr. Davis operated the Virginia Theatre in the neighboring town of Shelley. He agreed to bring movies to Firth and show them at the Melba (named after Grant Collet's wife) once they had already been viewed at the Virginia Theatre. I'm not sure how long the Melba was in operation but I know that it was not operating when I was a child in the 1950's. The building sits vacant to this day.

When I was a teenager some of my schoolmates decided that the old theatre would make a great place to hold dances. They formed a band and needed a place other than the school (too many rules and regulations) where they could rock and roll to their hearts delight! I can't honestly say they were good, but I remember they were LOUD--and they had fun. The building was "cleaned" and the old seats were removed to provide space for dancing. I went to a couple of these dances and while they were fun there was one persistent problem. The floor was slanted to accommodate movie viewing! I remember constantly having to "correct" my position on the dance floor. Everyone kept migrating to the bottom of the stage. The top half of the dance floor was conspicuously empty.

The building serves as a sad reminder of days gone by where a very active social life thrived in "downtown" Firth--wish I'd been there then!