Welcome to the Epitome of Small Town, USA

I could spend forever on this porch, listening to birds chirp, cicadas hum, and looking at sunshine and flowers.  I can hardly believe that it was me who used to whine about coming here, saying "But there's nothing to do!" (as though you couldn't curl up with a book just about anywhere).  Now I long to come here and have nothing to do but relax and refresh.

Yesterday my mumsy and I decided to go for a walk about town.  As we stopped for pictures she joked that if anyone asked what we found so photo-worthy we would just say we were doing a photo-article for the Pittsburgh Post Gazette. 

 

It must be true if the sign says so!  But it could very well be true--parades, carnivals, flags flying, flowers planted by the town garden club--it's all here!

 This creek runs through the entire town.  In 2004, there was a massive flood caused by the double-whammy rains of hurricanes Frances and Ivan--there was a lot of damage with waters about ten feet deep filling the streets.

 

 This adorable country gift shop is situated just over the creek.  The building is well over 100 years old--it used to be a pharmacy, then became a candy store/sweets shop, and eventually became this store.

 This town was once a railroad town.  This spot here used to be the old railroad tracks, but they pulled them up to make a biking/walking path.  I remember hearing the train come through when I was little, and I do miss it.

 

This is the Oakdale Honor Roll.  On the left are the names of those who served in World War II, and on the right is World War I.  I used to think it was for the kids who did well in school (when I was about 8--not recently, folks).

 

 This center section honors the other wars.  It was added and the whole monument rededicated following the flood.

 And there's my Pappy.  He was a true American--he was in the American Legion, the VFW, served as mayor of the town, was in the Volunteer Fire Department, and worked in a steel mill after the war, among other things.

 

 When I tell you this is Downtown Oakdale, I'm not kidding.

 At Christmas the gazebo is all lit up.

 

 The sign says BLT and Fries on this side, and Bacon and Eggs on the other.  Way to sell it, guys.

 This is the Boy Scout cabin of Troop 248.  My dad used to go here for his troop meetings.  The creek runs directly in front of it, so I'm sure it's seen its share of flood waters.

 

 This used to be my Great Grandma's house.  I used to think it was the neatest because it was the only house I had been in that had a living room AND a formal parlor.  When you went upstairs the railing extended along the hallway, and felt very grand and rich to me.

 One random hollyhock was growing in the hedge beside the house.  My mom told me that when she was younger they used to pick these and turn them upside down to use as fancy dresses for some of their dolls.  I didn't get the imagination gene in that regard.

And here are a few images of things you usually only see in small towns.

No Home Depot here--although I don't shop for such things I do enjoy the idea of the old-fashioned hardware store.

 The Oakdale Fire Department.  I think all of my uncles were part of this at one time.  There's even a town fire alarm that rings super-loud to let everyone know their services might be needed.

 One of the food markets in town was having a cookout.

 Rugged trucks are necessary for such a hill.  It's much steeper in reality than in this photo.

I found it interesting that some of the most beautiful images of life are planted in the window box outside of the funeral home.

 This photo was taken from the bedroom while it was raining, so it might be hazy.  It's of the old elementary school--it's now been turned into apartments.  I would have loved to have seen the inside, but I was much younger at that point and had no interest in such 'silly' things.

 My grandma has climbed these steps for almost sixty years now.  She's almost four-score--that's some exercise!

 They lead to the little house on the hill, full of love and good memories.  Grandma would be aghast that I posted this--she's planning on having the house painted soon.

And that, said Bee, is that.

Grandma's Got a Green Thumb

I've transplanted myself elsewhere for the weekend.  A nice long weekend.  It's family reunion time in Oakdale, PA.  We came in this afternoon, but I think my stomach is still somewhere on the Turnpike.  I won't feel settled until tomorrow after a nice hot shower and a good long sleep.

It's not quite as hot here as it is back home, but the humidity is making itself very well known.  Fortunately, my grandma's secret* gardening skills provided me with some lovely, flowery photographs in every color of the visible light spectrum. If you need a quick review of the VLS, here's a visual:

 It's very twirly when the wind catches it, and multi-colored yummy when the sun hits it. 

 

This little guy and his friends welcome you to the porch.  He also reminds me that I never made anything out of that fabric I bought.

And this guy lets you know just how hot it is outside....I liked him more when he was telling a different story.  And this was after the temperature had dropped a few degrees.

There's not a bad seat on the porch--everywhere you look is pretty.

I would be one super-duper happy camper if I had such an awesome place to stretch out and read.

Wouldn't it be great if trees could just spit flowers out of their trunks?  Because those hanging flower bags can get a little fiddly.

These tree stumps were trees not too long ago.  Recent wind storms made them decide to wreak a little havoc.  And Grandma's got the insurance claims to prove it.

I don't have much to say about this boot planter, other than 'Adorable!'

After my traipse around the yard, I felt I deserved some relaxation:

Lemonade, knitting, crossword puzzles, and a good book--that's all I need to properly chillax.

And Grandma doesn't know it yet but I'm going to try and steal these when I leave here on Sunday:

I'm going to try and stuff these napkin rings and place-mats in my weekender bag along with this radio.

Nightie-night, folks.  Stay cool (I mean that temperature-wise, but if you're cool in the awesome sense then keep doing that, too).

*The secret is that some of these are artificial...but I'm not going to name names.

Free to Make a Wiffle Ball Game as Extravagant as we Please

104.  That's what the thermometer in my car read today.  And close to it for the past few days.  I'm kind of a literal pansy--I don't tolerate heat well at all.  Gives me migraines. Makes me sweat (as it does to everyone else--but I realllly hate to sweat).  But sometimes we ignore those things for the sake of family, puppies, and babies.

On Sunday we had our July 4th picnic and Wiffle Ball Classic (you may remember some of the details from Memorial Day).  My brother, one of my sisters, and a few of their friends had planned for several months a few celebratory things in honor of the 25th anniversary of our picnic/ball game.  I wasn't aware of the extent of it all--if my brother applied himself to everything as he did to this he'd probably be rich.  This post is going to be a bit picture heavy--keep in mind that all of this is going on under a hundred degree sun in mid-afternoon.

 Welcome to our home!  Ignore the parched flowers--I promise they've been watered.

My uncle made this sign to welcome family to the field (a.k.a. the backyard).

 

 Birds' eye view....

 Special 25-year emblem--you can see how dry it's been by all the brown patchy grass.  Sexy.

 I don't know why but this amuses me.

I told the ump to make his little clicky thing read an exciting pitch count.  I guess this is exciting.  Depends on the score, I suppose.

My brother and sister kept it all official-like with chosen teams lining up on the baselines:

 At this point everyone is wondering what all the pomp and circumstance is about.

My big brother then read a speech he wrote.  Please note that this is the guy who couldn't be paid to do his homework in high school, and he wrote a fer-lipping speech for a picnic!  He went on to say how much these events have meant and still mean to all of us.  How 25 years ago my dad and his cousin were sitting outside staring at the backyard wondering how they could kick it up a notch.   And how events like this help to make our family even closer.

 I'm pretty sure my nephew wanted his dad to hush and get on with things.  He usually looks a lot more like Harry Potter but he got buzzed for the summer (my nephew, not my brother).

Everyone's attention was then called to right field (I think--right field? behind first base? I think it's right field) for the unveiling of the Memory Field Hall of Fame and its first two inductees:

I love how my sister is all "Ta-da!" in this picture.  I had to tell her to be easy on that perfectly usable piece of fabric she's rumpling in her hand.  My other sister was wandering around with the video camera for most of the game.

 

 

Don't all Hall-of-Famers get a bottle of celebratory wine? No really--I'm asking. I don't know :) 

Instead of a CD, this time the National Anthem was sung.  That's moxie.

 

Backyard ball game or not, it's still a bit solemn (these are some of my favorite pics).

My mom always throws out the first pitch.  She told me she'd hurt me if I put her picture up here. As such, this is not my mom (my mom's not Korean--I don't know who this is. It was on Google Images).  I do really admire how high in the air her leg is, though.  You can pretend this is my mom if you like.  She wouldn't mind.

Here are a few action shots:

I'm mostly putting these up as my way of saying "Hey, my camera does pretty well with action shots."

And in case you were wondering just how we get the score up on that scoreboard....

An old laundry pole with a clothespin duct-taped to it. Obviously.

After the game, they gave out 2 trophies:  MVP of the game and Home Run Derby winner (they had that before the game).

One of those trophies is made out of Miller Lite can.  Classy.  It is.  It used to be a Budweiser can (insert guffaw here).

OK. Game over.  Here's some cuteness.

 When this guy was a  pup he could fit in your palm.  Now?  His head is the size of a punch bowl.  But he's such a big doofus he's not scary at all.  He drools, but he's not scary.  Just slightly icky sometimes.

I love this shot of Jefferson.  It was so hot even he wasn't up for much nonsense.

When I saw these two they had just finished getting their drinks.  I asked them to re-pose like that and Girl-on-the-Right said to Girl-on-the-Left "We have to dig them out again so it looks real for the picture."  Too cute.

This one had the right idea.  In addition to the sweetest little embroidered flowers on her shirt.

Look how wide awake she is a few hours later--this picture cracks me up.

There was the most wonderful looking American flag cake with blueberries and strawberries and a cream cheese icing.  Sorry, no picture--I ate it.  The cake, not the picture.  I got to the dessert table late and I thought it might be unpatriotic to show a half-eaten flag cake.  Plus it was flying off the table and there just wasn't time.

As if all of this wasn't enough--my brother/sister have one more trick up their sleeves for Labor Day, but I don't want to reveal yet because it's supposed to be a surprise.  We'll see how well I do with that.