Beaumont Avenue

(1931)
We moved from our flat to a little house on Beaumont Avenue in Whitefish Bay [suburb north of Milwaukee].  ...  That little house was like one in a fairy-tale illustration, with a tower holding the stairs, and the vaulted ceiling in the kitchen.  French farm house style.  It was a sweet little house, but too small, we soon found.

Starfish and crab

(1980 memoirs)
What does it matter about the train trip [to Florida] or the town decided on?  The big thing was that they were right on the ocean; and so Frankie could study the marine life and gather shells.  And how she loved getting out the spiny starfish and bottled fiddler crab and telling Lorin all about them!  She rarely had an audience, and he never had such an ardent lecture!  None of his relatives with the exception of Auntie Mabel ever could care enough to bring such treasures home.  And Mabel wasn't an animal lover.

Alone again

(1980 memoirs)
So Lorin studied and I taught school and at last we were married.  I never wanted to do one thing in my life except to be where he was and share in his life, and now that I am alone again, the time is so dull and so long.

Coal stove

(1980 memoirs)
In this part of the [Clapp] living room was a four-sided coal stove, and we loved to see the fire thru the isenglass.  Every night Frankie hoisted up a hod of hard coal and poured it in the top, adjusting the drafts.  In the morning, drafts were opened, ashes poked down, heat enjoyed.  Not once did she ever let me do one thing about the stove; I neither brought in the coal nor took the ashes out.  I did offer at first, but was turned down.  Once Lorin took the bucket of coal from her and poured it in the top, and she was quite surprised that he could do it well.  Oh, that stove!  Old fashioned and out of style, but how glowing it stood with the nickle trim gleaming and the black outlining its true shape.

Drain & cool

[In Frankie's house] a large hinged, covered drain took care of all dirty water.  And lord, now that I think of it, I have to say it was in the dining room; however, actually rarely used.  As to refrigeration, I recall things like butter and milk being kept covered in the earth-floored basement; for the rest, I guess we just went to the store more often.

Paper route

(1970 June)
His [Lorin's] feet were so painful whenever he walked or stood that he would take his shoes off the moment he came into the house.  As a boy he delivered papers over a very long route in Milwaukee and thus developed flat feet and bunions.  A couple of years before his father died [in 1957] they were together in a car in Milwaukee riding along Lake Drive, and Lorin recalled to his father his job as a paper boy - and when he pointed out the distance he walked every morning, starting out in the dark, his father simply could not believe it.

Cherries

(1992 July ?5)

Mary M spied the cherries on the tree and started to pick. Soon the neighbors were helping her. One got the ladder from the garage, and the littlest boy was getting them from the ground. ... I remember when we all picked, and Sherry made the pie on a hot day to show Sally how it was done.

Slow train to Arkansas

(1991 November 5)

Jan stopped in last night. She had a dull time riding on a train with Bob to Arkansas. She could not enthuse over the speed - what it was - indifferent to what the various clatty sounds were, which meant so much to him.

Workhorses

(1991 January)

There is a team of 4 or 6 [horses] that goes thru here in the fall to join some old timer occasion. I like those strong horses and always look them out at the fair.

Calliope

(1988 July 8)

Well, [on TV David SaLoutos] played the calliope, which is pronounced CallEope in circus parlane and CallIopE off. It is 135 degrees inside that wagon, as steam is built up under the keys. He did several short tunes, as Yankee Doodle, Bird in Gilded Cage, etc. Later he played a Bell Wagon, sitting outside, pulling long levers instead of pressing keys. ... And the end of 1812 Overture.

Sore feet

(1988? May)

One day at a church he [Bill Peckham] was telling me old songs his father sang. One: "Polly O Polly / My feet are so sore / Dancing with you / On this sanded floor." [Another verse:] "Polly O Polly / My feet are so sore / Don't lets dance / Any more." Sounds old, doesn't it?

Little horses

(1988 May 27)

When I was at Ripon [in 1920s] a record came out about horses. It went, "Horeses - horses - horses" and then the part that always made Daddy chuckle, "Little horses." I wish I could get it for you, but I go to so few sales.

Bing Crosby

(1988 April 16)

I enjoy the Bing Crosby [tape] Lawrence sent. He recorded it himself I'm sure at the radio station - about 15 songs, some I never knew he sung. About an hour long. Today I turned it to low and it put me to sleep. And shut itself off.

Treats

(1987 November 7)

23 was the correct number of Trick-or-Treaters I had, but at one time had 50 or so, I think when families lived in the barracks at the Community Building during wartime.

Dante debunked

(1978 July 9)

When I think about your new work on Dante, I am not too happy about it. I liked to think of Dante and Beatrice as two lovers from classic times. Now you will debunk them, and things may never be the same again. Beatrice will turn into a thought, and Dante just a thinker, and where will us romanticists be then? No one has got at Romeo and Juliet yet.

Singleminded

(1977 July 16)

Daddy closed his mind to everything about the house except his study. One night I asked him to hand me up my pajamas and he said, "Where are they?" I said, "On the nail next to yours in the bathroom where they have been for the last 15 years." He said, "You could have just told me where." But he could make decisions and organize many things I could not, and so I left it to him. It was often better so, as he would get so annoyed if I did it wrong. No one person is good at everything probably. Though some do act so at times.

Da capo

(1974 November 14)

Well, I have gone on enough about this [saving, not spending]. I am worried about the state of our country. Things are in recession. More unemployment, rises in prices! Where is it all going to end? Our congressmen are off to Europe on lovely trips. People all over the world are strving. Births are up. I hope none of us are ever hungry.

Toy stories

(1972 May 8)

You are on the right track with Lawrence when you encourage him to keep his things picked up and have some regard for their worth. God knows why children do the things they do - sometimes curiosity, as when I pried all the keys out of my toy piano "to see where the music came from," sometimes to see how it was made. Sometimes to see what other use it could be used for other than the one the maker had in mind. There must be many kids like this, as few on reaching adulthood have the toys they had as children. I recall I gave you my dolls to play with, Gertrude, a large staring blonde, one Japanese, about 3 others - until you played fire department and doused them with water, and in disgust I gave them to the church to be distributed to the poor at Xmas. Wish I had them now.

Portant papers

(1965? March 13, Friday)

I hope this day was not unlucky for you, but just a last school day of the week day with family and kittens at the latter end. Miryam wrote about your not minding if yours bothered you when you were reading. Well, I can tell you one time Daddy nearly cleaned house on ours when we lived on the Hill. At that time his study was just off the kitchen and as we had kittens in the kitchen, we likewise had kittens in the study. As you know, he always had piles of papers on the floor and stamps to be soaked off and so on. One night I heard a virulent swearing coming from his room, and when I at last got him calm enough to speak a few English words, I learned the kits had been pooing on his papers. Oh, such a time. When you were three, you used to say "'portant papers." We used to say that a lot, even now.

Chicken Little

(1971 June 7)

I am also enclosing my earliest handiwork of which I am so proud, and look upon it such nostalgia I could almost have it framed. A little chicken Aunt Lois drew for me to work. I remember the episode well tho very young. 6 (?). [A square of cardboard with holes pierced, following the pencil outline of a chicken, and joined by threads of yarn. Now in Kay archives, labelled by Polly.]