Brothers and Sisters

Good-bye Brothers and Sisters

It looks like the major networks are doing a major sweep. In the latest round of TV series cancellations, ABC has done it again---Brothers and Sisters is getting the axe! ABC cancelled some of my other favorite shows, like “What About Brian” and “October Road” leaving me hanging. With so many reruns between shows, it is no wonder that ratings have dropped. Rest in peace, Brothers and Sisters.....

The Little House

"Once upon a time there was a Little House way out in the country. She was a pretty Little House and she was strong and well built." So begins Virginia Lee Burton's classic The Little House, winner of the prestigious Caldecott Medal in 1943. The rosy-pink Little House, on a hill surrounded by apple trees, watches the days go, by from the first apple blossoms in the spring through the winter snows. Always faintly aware of the city's distant lights, she starts to notice the city encroaching on her bucolic existence. First a road appears, which brings horseless carriages and then trucks and steamrollers. Before long, more roads, bigger homes, apartment buildings, stores, and garages surround the Little House. Her family moves out and she finds herself alone in the middle of the city, where the artificial lights are so bright that the Little House can no longer see the sun or the moon. She often dreams of "the field of daisies and the apple trees dancing in the moonlight." Children will be saddened to see the lonely, claustrophobic, dilapidated house, but when a woman recognizes her and whisks her back to the country where she belongs, they will rejoice. Young readers are more likely to be drawn in by the whimsical, detailed drawings and the happy ending than by anything Burton might have been implying about the troubling effects of urbanization.

This book is for ages 3 to 6 but it is still among my favorites and I am 53!

Sam is Getting Neu(Tutored)!

I intended to put these memory pages in chronological order but in attempting to build the past, I am missing out on the present. Well, here's today's story.

Sweet Sam, my dog, is now 2 1/2 years old and we have yet to have him tutored. Well, needless to say a little female daschund mix on our complex was in her monthly way and was driving Sam, as well as us crazy. He whimpered and whimpered to go outside.

Katherine picked Sam up this morning and took him to the vet. He was not happy to be there. He weighed 29 pounds, had to swallow a pill, and got a shot in his butt. They put him in a kennel, which he hates, and he immediately began barking. I will worry about him all day.

Walter is planning to pick him up between 4:30pm and 5:00pm this afternoon. I can't wait to see my Sam.

The title of this story is an old Far Side comic about a dog excited that he gets to go to the vet and get tutored. Here is a copy for you to enjoy.

Mother

My mother, Mary Dorothy Cecil, was born on June 21, 1922 in Morganfield, Union County, Kentucky. She was the daughter of Roland Edward Cecil and Zella Irene Raleigh Cecil. Her parents had a very short-lived marriage. Another child was born to this couple and named Roland Edward Cecil III who was born and died in March 1926. Mother never said anything about this sibling so I am sure that she never knew of his birth.

When mother was very young, she went to live with her paternal grandparents: Roland Edward Cecil and Mary Hulda Dyer Cecil. She loved her grandparents dearly and she has many fond memories of living on their farm.

When she was five, her father, once again, took her from loved ones. Her Dad decided to take her to Detroit and she never knew why. He got a ride with some men and she said that they wound up in Indiana. Her Dad was soused and the poeple at the motel found her playing in the parking lot; singing and whistling. The ladies in the kitchen fed her and played with her for 3 days until her Dad sobered up.

After she arrived in Detroit, at some point, her father developed Tuberculosis and with his illness was unable to take care of such a young daughter. Mother was sent to a convent school/orphanage in Detroit. She hated it! Her grandparents and loved and coddled her and suddenly she was on her own at 5 to fend for herself. She said that the nuns were mean and she said that the experience probably made her mean and very strong. Mother often drove us by the orphanage and talked about her life there. She once told me a story that they were not permitted to have any sweets while in the orphanage. The nuns liked apple butter and ate it often. They would throw away the jars in the trash. Mother and the other orphan girls would sneak into the trash and get the apple butter jars. They would chase out the ants that also loved the sweet taste and use their fingers to clean the jars of every last morsel of the apple butter. She said it was heavenly! I cannot eat apple butter today without thinking of that story.

When she did finally go back to live with her Dad and they resided in a duplex in Detroit City. He always had girlfriends and she would get in the way. She said she use to ride the Trolley to school and try to stay away as much as possible. Her father sent her to Grosse Isle to work for a Jewish family tending their kinds and do ironing. This is how she made money. She quit school in the seventh or eighth grade so she could work. Her father married for the second time in 1934 to Miss Mizie Walker. Mizie's family was from Canada and she was working as a maid in Detroit.

Gramma told me she met Papa when he and Wales, his cousin, came to pick up the girl that Wales would eventually marry. I think her name was Marge and she lived next door to Gramma. Papa had the car, so he drove Wales from Plymouth to Detroit to get his girl. Gramma took one look at papa and said I'm going too!!!! She ran next door to get dressed and slipped and fell in a snowbank. Papa told me it was love at first sight. He said that 'she haad alot of spunk'. He also said she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Gramma bought Papa a new set of tires and they ran away to ohio to get married. As gramma was underage, they wouldn't let them get married, so they had to spend the night in a gravel pit. She told me about those tires over and over. She was quite proud that during such a hard financial time, she was able to make enough money to give Papa that big of a present. When she told her Dad about wanting to get married, he was glad because at least she would be out of the house, or so she felt anyway. He gave them some old furniture and that was that. She was hurt that they never even offered her and Papa a cold drink and Papa told Gramma we don't need them any way. Grampa Cecil's wife Gramma Mise was very jealous of Gramma. She was a tightwod Gramma would say and didn't want her husband to spend a dime on Gramma."

Added comments by Carol Robertson White - daughter to Dorothy Cecil Robertson

"Barbie's story above is very true! As it was related to me, Daddy had a date with another girl that night and they were suppose to pick her up after they picked up Wales' girl. However, one look at mother and daddy stood up his other date. They ran away to get married, I believe with Wales and Marge. However, only Wales and Marge were able to get married as mother was underage. They did spend the night in the gravel yard and we often teased mother about spending the night with a man before they married, but she assures us nothing happened! Right!

Mother and Father, however, did get to marry. They were married on June 3, 1929 in a little church in lower Plymouth, Michigan. (near where Uncle Jim lived). I often visited this little church and saw little sweet purple crocuses blooming in the church yard. Leona took me there during my last visit to Michigan and I took recent photos of the church; see the photo section of this site.

Bobo the Monkey

It's funny how every child has a favorite toy. Well, I had many. Among them was a stuffed monkey named BoBo. My brothers, Johnny and Donnie, thinking I had long outgrown Bobo, hung the monkey in the tree for bow and arrow target practice. I was devastated. To this day, I will never forget how heartbroken I was over their actions.

I am not sure what BoBo looked like, but my memories seem to think he looked like this.

Mean brothers:

Johnny Donnie

Michigan Avenue

When I was about 4, we moved to Michigan Avenue. I loved this house. I have so many memories of the house. My room was on the back side of the house. I would get up on winter mornings and have ice on the inside of my room. I think my room was the coldest in the house.

Spring on Michigan Avenue was unbelievable. The lilac bushes and flowering crab apples were just beautiful. The air smelled of the many blossoms blooming.

Beck Road

Beck Road
Plymouth (now Canton), Michigan

The second house that I ever lived in was located on the gravel/dirt Beck Road. This was a dilapidated old house that looked much like it should be condemned. I do not know why the family moved here, perhaps because they outgrew the little house on Ford Road. I don't have much memory of this house, only stories that I am not sure that I remember or that they were told to me about the place. This is me in the front yard of the house.




Here are some other pics of Beck Road

















This old house - a poem:

As I passed by that ragged old house
The shingles all rotten and battered,
Most of the windows were still in their places
But some were all broken and shattered.

The owners moved out a long time ago,
And the old house is there all alone.
The grass is all dead the porch broken down
And the weeds, oh how they have grown.

The curtains were torn the pictures all crooked
The mattresses were old and rotten,
There were memories in this old house
Memories that were somehow forgotten.

This house that is ragged battered and worn
And its hinges all rusted and old,
Belonged to my parents way back then
This ragged old house I was told.












I remember going by this house before they tore it down.