Tag Archives: Neil Armstrong

The Snood and Wattle Make the Gobble!

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The Snood and Wattle Make the Gobble!

“Thanksgiving is an emotional holiday. People travel thousands of miles to be with others they only see once a year, & then discover once a year is way too often.” ~Johnny Carson

Kicking off Thanksgiving Day with some fun facts and we might have a few you haven’t heard before.

Here we go with 25 Totally Random & Fun Facts for Thanksgiving!


  1. The first Thanksgiving was held in the fall of 1621. There were approximately 50 Pilgrims and 90 Wampanoag Indians. Aside from the huge difference in what was served then, and now, their feast lasted three days!
  2. Thanksgiving can take place as early as November 22 and as late as November 28. (Hint: it’s always the 4th Thursday!)
  3. 91% of Americans eat TURKEY for Thanksgiving.
  4. The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade is the 2nd oldest Thanksgiving parade. (Gimbels Department Store was first!)
  5. Baby turkeys are called poults and male turkeys are called gobblers.
  6. Sarah Josepha Hale was an American magazine editor and also an author. She is credited for campaigning to make Thanksgiving a national holiday. But did you know she also wrote Mary Had a Little Lamb?
  7. The snood (male turkeys only, please) is the red growth coming from the forehead. The part underneath the throat is the wattle.
  8. The Snoopy balloon has appeared in the Macy’s Parade more often than any other character.Snoopy-Balloon-Picture-at-Macys-Thanksgiving-Day-Parade-NYC-Steve-Weintraub
  9. The name turkey goes way back to when the Europeans discovered how much they loved the guinea fowl that was imported to their continent by, you guessed it, Turkish merchants! Then, when the Spaniards came to America, they found a bird that tasted like the guinea fowl and they called it turkey also.
  10. Thanksgiving was traditionally celebrated on the last Thursday of November, set by Abraham Lincoln. But in 1939, President Roosevelt pushed it up a week early. Why, you ask? To increase the time for Christmas shopping during the Great Depression!
  11. Only male turkeys, called toms, gobble. Females, or hens, cackle. (No comments from the male population, thank you very much.)
  12. TV-DinnerSwanson TV Dinners were born out of the over-abundance of leftover frozen Thanksgiving turkeys. Who knew?
  13. 3,000 is the number of calories consumed by the average person during a Thanksgiving dinner. Don’t forget that most families eat at least twice that day and snack on rich desserts and appetizers in between which can bump it up as high as 4,000-6,000 calories. That would require eight hours of exercise to burn it off. Yikes!
  14. Let’s add to #13 and insert that it has been estimated that the original Thanksgiving gatherers only consumed about 550 calories at their feast…probably no pies or stuffing.
  15. Another DID YOU KNOW: Californians consume more turkeys than any other state.
  16. More than 44 million people watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV every year. Three million actually attend in person. It’s a miracle….on 34th Street (ba-dum-bump…The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade starts at 77th St and Central Park West and heads down to 34th Street in Herald Square.)
  17. A 25 pound turkey contains about 70% white meat and 30% dark. (What’s your favorite?)
  18. Wild turkeys can run 20 miles per hour when they are scared!
  19. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin’s first meal in space, after walking on the moon, was roasted turkey in neat, little aluminum foil packets.
  20. large_24099One dish I personally can pass on is the Green Bean Casserole. Campbell’s Soup created it for an annual cookbook over 50 years ago and they now sell $20 million+ worth of cream of mushroom soup for Thanksgiving. (Will it be on your table?)
  21. The first Pilgrims did not have forks. They used spoons, knives and, ahem, their fingers. Some things never change.
  22. It is believed that only FIVE women were present at the first Thanksgiving. Many of the women settlers didn’t survive the extremely difficult first year on new soil.
  23. Every year, since 1975, there is another celebration on Thanksgiving Day on the island of Alcatraz. It is called UN-Thanksgiving Day, commemorating the survival of Native Americans after the Europeans settled in America.
  24. Love ‘em or hate ‘em, cranberries were originally used by Native Americans to treat arrow wounds and also to dye their clothes! (Canned or fresh on your table?) 
  25. And finally, I have saved the best for last! Turkeys….wait for it….have heart attacks! The United States Air Force conducted test runs that were breaking the sound barrier. Nearby was a flock of turkeys that promptly dropped dead. Death by heart attack.

Share with us some of the family traditions you will be partaking in or feel free to comment on any or all of the trivia info! We would love for you to join the conversation. Have a blessed day with your family and friends. 

Kingdom2

 

Marrying The Haymaker

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Who in this world doesn’t get excited about their very own birthday? No matter how old we are, how many birthdays we have seen come and go, everyone likes to be remembered and celebrated somehow on their birthday.

When I was dating The Sweetheart, way back in the day now, we were young.  So young that he hadn’t earned the term of endearment that we have christened him with in this century. No, he was lovingly referred to as The Haymaker, you can read that story here. I will wait for you.

Yes, we were very young. We had dated since I was 15 (hey, my parents let us date in groups until I was a mature 16) and engaged at 17. We were planning to get married when I turned 18. I realize I am putting myself out there for ridicule. This post isn’t for that so please don’t ruin my birthday/anniversary by telling me I married too young. You couldn’t have told us then we were too young to get married. You can’t convince a Romeo and Juliet that their LOVE isn’t strong enough to handle the curveballs that life is about to throw them when they are barely above being children themselves. At that age you think you know everything, have all the bases covered and will just take life’s lessons as they come.

And you also are pretty sure Jesus is coming back any day, any moment and you won’t get to be married and have children! I know, right? You thought that too?

But we did pretty well I think; still together, still in love, and three sons, soon to be three daughters in law and three beautiful granddaughters and a grandson on the way. That they  are all serving God today is more than we could have dreamed.

The subject of today’s post is the wedding itself. Looking at a calendar in February, 1979, sitting at a Noble Roman’s Pizza restaurant, our fave, we noticed something big. Really big. There were Friday nights and Saturdays available all summer long but we were partial to a Friday night wedding. I couldn’t get married until after July 20, that would be the 18th anniversary of my birth and I would finally be legal. Guess what day of the week the 20th fell on that year?

You guys are quick!

Hmmm. Birthdays are pretty big. You have one every single year. It’s your day and yours alone (unless you are a twin!) and you don’t usually want to celebrate it with anything or anyone else. I had always loved having my birthday in the summer months, no one else in the family celebrated in the summer…until the nephews came along and they took over July! One even came hours away from being born on my literal birthday. Yikes. (Happy Birthday, Cameron!)

July 20 was a special day. Right in the middle of summer, picnics, fireworks, school was out and to top it off, on my 8th birthday Neil Armstrong went to the moon and took a walk. We watched it in black and white while we ate birthday cake. Thanks for the memories Neil.

Again, being young, in love, and naïve, I thought it wouldn’t matter if I got married on my birthday, what was the big deal?

So it was settled. Friday, July 20, 1979 at 7:30 in the evening, we would get hitched.

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Our wedding ceremony was pretty uneventful. No one passed out, tripped down the aisle, forgot the ring or gave rabbit ears during the photography session.  The church was packed and it was a typically warm summer evening. We had even made it through with everyone still speaking to one another. Of course, weddings were not the colossal affair that they are today. I didn’t have a Wedding Planner, only a maid of honor, one bridesmaid, one junior bridesmaid and a flower girl. (And of course The Haymaker had all those guys on his side.) Expenses were minimal, but to me, everything was gorgeous. My florist was a friend of the family and even though I said, “Just a small bouquet of yellow roses will be fine”, by the time she was finished I seriously needed help carrying it down the aisle. It was the biggest, and most beautiful, bouquet I had ever seen.

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I remember The Haymaker had to work that day with his mason/contractor father. My mom, sister and sister-in-law all took me out for lunch and spoiled me that day. True to his romantic nature, my Romeo had a dozen long-stemmed, yellow roses delivered to my house that morning. What a guy.

And he didn’t forget my birthday. He had bought me an outfit to “go away” in after the wedding ceremony. (Pitter Patter)

After the ceremony, we opened every single one of our presents. (Who does that today?) It took over 2 ½ hours and by then it was 11:30 p.m.unnamed (8)

We were driving that night just a short 35 minute drive to Nashville, Indiana, reminiscent of a mini Pigeon Forge, even more popular today than it was then. So we were preparing to leave when everyone decides we have to take a lap up town around the square or it just wouldn’t be an official wedding. The Haymaker grabs the keys to his way-cool 1977 Firethorn Red Camaro and opens the door; and that’s when we realized the night wasn’t going to end without a few pranksters having a good laugh.

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Spilling out the car door were thousands upon thousands of punch-card computer chips/chads and Styrofoam packing peanuts. For all of you young’uns, an IBM punch card had holes positioned in it for analysis by an automatic data-processing machine. From 1890 until the 1970s, punch cards were synonymous with data processing. The concepts were simple: the database was the file cabinet; a record was a card. Processing was performed on separate machines called sorters, collators, reproducers, calculators and accounting machines.

reading_the_chads

A chad is a tiny bit of paper that is punched from a ballot using a punch-type mechanical machine. Each chad, or chip, was about 3/8 of an inch long. A hanging chad is a chad that is not completely detached from the ballot. There were also dimpled chads and pregnant chads, as shown in the images below. The Hanging Chad was made infamous in the highly contentious 2000 United States presidential election where many of Florida voting stations used votomatic punched card ballots.

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Our friend and neighbor, Ray, worked at the bank at that time and had been saving these precious little guys for us for weeks. He thought it would be fun to fill that Firethorn Red Camaro with the IBM leftovers. And since he didn’t think cleaning out the chads would be enough excitement, he poured in boxes of Styrofoam packing peanuts! The car was “packed”, as they say. Thanks, Ray.

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Our first stop, after we left the church, was at a car wash where we shoveled out as many of the chads and peanuts as we could and then started vacuuming. It was no small task. (Thankfully we had changed out of our wedding attire since The Haymaker had on a 70’s white tux with white patent leather shoes. I was stunning in my beautiful new yellow two-piece polyester outfit that The Haymaker had bought for me.) I am pretty sure I was mumbling under my breath. Once we had swept up as much as the car wash vacuums could contain we then had to wash the car. Another one of our friends had covered it in shaving cream. I told The Haymaker we should have hidden his car somewhere and taken my beat up ’71 Nova with the four-on-the-floor!

With all of that behind us, it is now almost 1:30 in the morning when we arrive at our hotel in Nashville. This was a pretty nice place then and we were young, didn’t get out of town too often and were pretty much bleary-eyed by the time we opened the door. Thankfully, I was also cute, adorable and skinny then so The Haymaker, ever the gallant type, swoops me up with his “I’ve-been-putting-up-hay-bales-heavier-than-you-all-summer” muscled biceps and swings open the door.

What did we see behind that door that had us gasp in horror and have a story to tell for the next 37 years???

You can now read Part II of Marrying The Haymaker: The Finale here!

A Visit to the President

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Continuing the Blogging Challenge! May is almost over!! Today I am doing…

“Something someone told you about yourself that you’ll never forget (good or bad)”.

BlogEverday

A Visit to The President

“I touch the future. I teach.” ~ Christa McAuliffe

photo (16)When you are nine years old you are easily intimidated, easily impressed and very easily captivated. I was a typical fourth grader growing up in the 1970’s. Neil Armstrong had just taken his infamous walk on the moon the summer before on my actual birthday, July 20, 1969. Richard Nixon was President and the Beatles had just broken up.

I loved all things “girly”, still collected Barbies, but didn’t actually play with them. We read The Boxcar Children, Pippi Longstocking, and The Bobbsey Twins, and found library books by looking in the card catalogue.

Our class looked forward to the Bookmobile visiting the school once a week or so, that was such a treat! I can still see it pulling up the driveway of the old Smithville school. I remember climbing up the steps and can even smell the timeworn books and the inside of the old bus. The librarian would stamp the card in the back of the book with the date that it was due back…and then slip the card back in the pocket of the book. It didn’t matter if you had a stack of twenty books, she could fly through them in no time!

I adored hair ribbons of all kinds and had long, beautiful, golden-rod hair. I idolized my big sister’s clothes, she was the “coolest”.

Convinced all boys had cooties, I was only friendly enough to get by. I loved tether-ball and hop-scotch at recess but despised dodge ball and the creep that made it up. He should be shot. In the buttocks.

My teacher, Mrs. Berzens, was elegant and beautiful. She usually wore her hair pulled back in a gorgeous barrette, (except in this class picture of course). To me she just walked on air. I think at that young age every little girl wants to be a teacher. One of my best friends in the class, Beth, grows up and actually accomplishes it! Mrs. Berzens did make school something to look forward to every day. I loved it.

One day as we were sitting quietly writing our spelling words, Mrs. Berzens comes and tells me that I was wanted in the principal’s office. What? The principal’s office?! Me?! I had never done anything wrong in school in my life! I was the quietest little girl in the entire class. Really I was! I always did my work and never talked back to the teacher.

Mrs. Berzens assured me I was not in trouble, he just wanted to talk to me. Everything was just fine and to go ahead.

The President! I was going to see The President! My legs felt like Jell-O and my tummy was full of butterflies. I had passed him in the hallway and he had nodded at me before and even said, “Hello!” But I had never spoken to him face-to-face!

I made my way down the hall to Mr. Brinson’s office. I wasn’t afraid of him; he was a very kind man. Everyone loved and respected him. You knew he meant business but he was always fair.

The secretary took me right in and I sat down across from The President. He folded his hands and leaned forward and cleared his throat.

I thought I might throw up.

“Nannette, do you know why I have called you in here today?”

“No sir, Mr. President. I mean, no sir, Mr. Brinson.”

“Well, I have invited you here to honor you for your hard work and dedication. I would like to thank you for your four years of excellent academic accomplishment.”

And then he handed me the most beautiful certificate I had ever seen! It even had a big, gold embossed seal on it! Well, when you are nine it doesn’t take much to impress you.

I walked back to class as if I was walking on air. I had seen The President! Five whole minutes. I hadn’t just seen him, I had talked with him!

A kind man, a wonderful teacher, a good school and a lasting impression on a little girl.

No, I didn’t grow up to be a teacher, but I did keep some of those good values that were instilled in me from wonderful influences that shaped my life in those early years.

Memories are a wonderful thing.

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