Cucumber, Tea and the Everly Brothers

Donny and Lorraine were the COOLEST parents in my neighborhood.

For one thing, they were young - much younger than anyone else's parents. They asked us to call them by their first names, something you just did not do in the late sixties.  And they seemed to have more time - and energy - to spend with all the neighborhood kids.

I grew up in small town Wisconsin during the turbulent sixties.  I vaguely remember President Kennedy's funeral as broadcast on our black and white console television.  I remember listening to WRIG (Wisconsin's Big Rig Top Forty on your AM Dial) while singing along to Brandy by Looking Glass.  As children, we ran freely around the neighborhood barreling from yard to yard.  It was all one big playground for us.  In the summers we played all day, then ran out again right after dinner and came back in when it got dark, figuring out the time by peering into the neighbor's window to see what was on television.

We were the quintessential small town family.  My mom stayed at home and ran the house.  She always had some sweet treat baking in the oven and the family gathered around the kitchen table every night, promptly at five.  My dad worked in the local door and sash factory, tinkered on his car parked in the driveway and smoked Pall Mall cigarettes with no filter.  Our vacations consisted of road trips to our Uncle John's cabin where we swam in the lake, fished, hand pumped drinking water and used an outhouse when necessary.  We read books, danced to the radio, played board games and card games, giggling the whole night through.

Kids ran around our neighborhood with no worries about getting hit by a car, or being abducted, or having anything more serious than a scrape on the knee happen to us.  We rode bikes without helmets, went swimming in the river, and drank water out of the hose.  Life was simple...and fun.  We put on neighborhood carnivals, played SPUD in the street, and made up running games.

We spent a lot of time hanging out at Donnie and Lorraine's house.  We played jump the hedge in their backyard, school in the playhouse, flashlight tag at night and radio disc jockey during the day.  They had the best records to use when playing disc jockey.  We discovered the stash of forty-five's from Donnie and Lorraine's teen years.  We learned all the words to the Everly Brothers' Wake up Little Suzie  in that upstairs playroom, understanding there was something risque about the song, but not quite putting our finger on what.

Lorraine introduced us to the art of sewing.  She helped us pick material, taught us how to lay out the pattern for our matching jumpers, cut, sew, and hem our creations.  I still remember mine - dark green corduroy with patch pockets in the front...a little shorter than my mom usually let me wear.  I loved that dress.

Lorraine introduced us to healthy snacks.  Cucumbers sprinkled salt and cut into precise medallions, raw carrots cut into spears, and peas eaten straight out of the pod. In the cool months, we stopped playing at midday for tea time. She served hot tea with milk and honey in fancy cups.   Even if I didn't really like the taste of tea, I sure did like drinking something that seemed so grown-up from a china cup and saucer.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was learning another way to be a mom.

Lorraine taught me to stay young at heart and fit of body, to try new things and play when maybe I should be working.  My own mom taught me the importance of stability (and a good book).  She was dependable, a hard worker and kept a meticulous house.  She was a planner and a saver.  She kept our family together.  She taught me to how to persevere and make my dreams a reality.  She taught me how to smile in the face of hurt.  She taught me how to be independent, how to repair just about anything, how to plan for a future that improved upon hers. 

I am forever grateful I had both of these women in my life and happy to be (to paraphrase Donny and Marie) a little bit Lorraine and a little bit Ruth...the best of both worlds.