Last Years Before SRHS....

I could go on at length with snippets of thoughts and memories, but I will end off this period of my days with the following......

During those years in our area, Hepatitis was making the rounds and it was a very dreaded virus, two children from New Zealand had died with it. Since some of their family had been attending school, it spread like wildfire. Extremely contagious. Butch and I both caught it, with Butch becoming very jaundiced, me less so. But I had a raging fever, so high in fact, that I was hallucinating, or "raving" as Momma would put it.

As clear as day I can remember becoming very sick in school, I was having trouble hearing, of all things, and my stomach was very sore. I went to the teacher to ask if I could go home, and she could see that I was obviously ill. I think she asked if I had a ride home, but I couldn't make her out, voices were coming from a long way off, like at the end of a tunnel. I just nodded and left. I can still remember leaving the school yard on shaking legs, but somehow I got home. Momma knew right away that something was wrong, and she was one of the few people that had a phone, so she made an appointment right away with the doctor. I don't remember much about that, but he confirmed Hepatitis and told Momma what to do. I just remember such pain in the stomach, and although Momma would try to get me to eat, the pain was too great. And I was burning up, so even getting water into me was a challenge. There were ceiling tiles in the bedroom, and I can remember tracing patterns in the blocks and at one time I was touching them with my hands. I was floating! Momma wouldn't believe me! But I could trace the blocks with my hands. Talk about a high fever, she must have been terrified at my hallcinations.

The we started recovering, and the only things we could eat without pain was canned peaches and canned pears, of all things. And Jello, of course. Poor Momma, it was all she could do to look after us and the two smaller kids, and pray that no more of us would catch the virus. So little was known about it, suffice it to say that everyone knew of the little girls who died and it was a serious situation. And if you can believe it, I can even remember the first solid food I asked for when the pain started to subside....chicken gizzard hash. Now, I know, before you all start retching, Momma made a mean pan of hash, and had made this every once in a while, and I happen to know that the liver and gizzard are very prized parts of chicken and turkey as far as French chefs are concerned, a delicacy even. Personally I wouldn't eat that now if you paid me, but it was mighty tasty when I could eat solid food again!

I love movies. I love watching television, in fact I often admit to watching an obscene amount of TV. Could this be a throwback to an early childhood thrill of staying up late with cousins to binge watch what was probably considered "inappropriate" material?

Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte.

What Ever happenend To Sweet Baby Jane?

Dracula.

Blood And Black Lace.

These and many others were late night offerings on an old black and white TV that the adults weren't monitoring or watching because they were exhausted and already in bed by this time. But Debbie and Irene were popping up bowls of "JiffyPop" as microwaves hadn't been invented yet, and popcorn was a real treat.. By today's standards these weren't exactly wholesome or educational movies, but I admitted to being nosey, so if the rest of them could stay awake, so could I! I'm sure we squealed at the gory parts with our hands over our mouths so Art and Kathleen didn't hear or there'd be one roar from upstairs and we'd scatter! I still love movies and I have a healthy appreciation for the classics. In particular I enjoy anything historical, especially if it involves England or the early Scots.

I think we were poor, but didn't know it. Everybody else was the same as us, more or less, no one knew any different. And it wasn't til many years later as Darrell and I were chatting that he piped up and said "There's nothing new about those Christmas boxes that the Lions and other groups give out. Don't you remember that strange man showed up at the door with a box?" I honestly didn't but I clearly remember biting into the biggest, reddest, sweetest apple that I'd ever seen! And a huge orange! Momma never bought anything like that, and I can see why, she just couldn't afford them. But there were some delectable treats in that box, and we were mighty grateful. For anyone who thinks that kids don't remember that stuff, you are wrong, Sir. Or Madam. I can still close my eyes and taste it.

And how could any of my Blogs this close to Christmas not end off with a memory of a Christmas past? (or two)

In all four of my Christmases in Rollo Bay Consolidated the one constant thing was the Christmas Tree. It was always huge. It glittered. It was gorgeous and always seemed somehow to have appeared by magic. If only I could go back and take pictures......

The Chrismas Concert was always a big deal, and our music Teacher had a lot to prove. She was responsible for taking all these different kids and making a somewhat cohesive unit. More or less. I'm sure no one envied her the job. And I remember my second music teacher was Lu Pazang, a darling little Filipino woman who blazed a trail to immigrate to Canada and teach music.

I'll never forget getting caught tormenting the student in front of me in music class one day, when no doubt tempers were high and expectations were low. I don't remember who the student was, but I clearly remember freezing stock still like some poor deer caught in the headlights. I just went numb.

"Nova?" Radio silence.

"Nova, do you hear me?" Trying hard not to....

"NOVA!" (God, I guess I'll have to own up)

"Have you been paying attention?" I think it was obvious I hadn't been. So I guess I nodded my head.

"What were we discussing?" I suppose by now my face was a rosy Christmas red. I had no idea.

She was tiny, but I wouldn't have any trouble imagining she was taller than me. I was frozen to the spot.

She called me up in front of the class. I'm sure I was praying, Dear Jesus, kill me now. But no, it was to get worse. She was pawing through her desk drawer, and dragged out one of those little round pitch finders that you blow into to find someone's range. And she was blowing it at me.

"Since you like entertaining so much Nova, perhaps you'd like to sing "Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer" for us?"

Well, I was good and snookered. All kinds of scenarios raced through my head.

How fast could I get to the door?

Could I throw up? This was not entirely out of the question.....

Were we close to the bell ringing? No?

Well, I had no choice, I sang the song for the class, to no applause at the end.

My humiliation was complete. I did the walk of shame again, back to my desk. In one fell swoop, Ms. Pazang knocked the mischief right out of me. I never did it again. Well, except for that one time in High School I was yanking on Helen O'Donnell's necklace in Chem lab, but I was behind her and Mr. Carpenter didn't see me. But I digress. And my sil Louise will know the origin now of why I don't like getting up in front of a crowd...

Apart from that, I loved music class. Which led to the concert. That was back in the days of students getting picked up and bussed to the concert and home again, it ensured that the students would have no barriers to providing a fun evening for the parents and grand parents. The music teacher would have to make sure the parents realized her efforts to create a choir out of all those kids was not an impossible feat after all. And it never occured to me that I didn't have anyone there for me, Momma never went, she rarely left the house.

But the tree. My word. I know I was pretty short, but you had to look a long way up; the gym had such a high ceiling and whoever was responsible for the tree got one tall enough to fill the whole corner. It went all the way up to the spans at the top of the gymnasium. It stood on the gym floor, and how it must have looked all decked out with handmade ornaments from the lower grades, I suppose. There were lights and tinsel, and with every tiny draft of air, each carefully placed strand just shimmered. The star at the top was tin foil covered cardboard, and the view it must have had as it gazed down at all the little upturned faces. The memory is firm in my mind.

Every seat would be filled from front to back. Small children too young for school would be fussing on their mother's knee. The dads would be buying the ever popular bags of fudge, always available at concert night. And always, there was a sharp stinging haze of smoke in the gym, swirling around the lights on the tree, the lights on the stage, reaching as high as you could see. Where was it coming from? Oh yes, from the row of bus drivers who stood at the back with other gentlemen who felt so inclined. No rules about second hand smoke in those days! They smoked whatever they wanted wherever they wanted.

And talk for excitement as each grade was coaxed onstage to perform their number while the music teacher accompanied them, it was priceless. I often wonder if anybody out there ever taped anything, who'd know? But no one can take the memories away. And then, everybody got quiet. The air was thick with smoke, yes, but also with nervous anticipation.........what was that? Bells? Were there bells ringing? What do you mean Shhhhhh!

And there he was, in all his splendor.......SANTA CLAUS. I kid you not. An appearance by the Pope or the Beatles wouldn't have elicited such applause as that fat little guy in the ill fitting red suit.

He had sneaked down the back stairs to appear on the stage with the kids, just like magic. I would imagine in my later years that he probably had a belly full of that liquid courage, because he was anything but graceful, he kind of dragged the bag, and he tipped his chair and needed some help getting settled into it. Oh well, I would have been 10 or 11, in our first year at the big school, nothing could take away my excitement. What did I know?

Well, there was lots to talk about the next day! That would be our only source of communication, of course, school days. Phones and other devices hadn't been invented yet, not that I'd have one anyway.

I think it's time for tea, and for you good folks to have a break. Thanks for reading another installment.