I can remember in High School, I decided to take Spanish as my foreign language. Back then, we could only choose between French and Spanish. My high school counselor advised me to take Spanish, saying that the experts projected that more people from Hispanic countries were going to be settling into the area, and that I would actually find myself using Spanish in real life on a daily basis, whereas chances of me using French on a daily basis were less likely.
I can remember for a time, after graduating High School, working at Levitz Furniture in Merrifield (yes, the one that got hit by a tornado on April 1, 1973.) I was one of the “Front Office Girls” and one of our duties was to call customers when their special order had arrived, and arrange for the customer to either come and pick up their order, or to arrange for a delivery date. There were quite a few times that some of my co-workers were making those phone calls while I was waiting on customers at the counter, and they would end up asking me to come provide my translation services to the customer that they had on the telephone.
I was quite pleased to be able to remember enough of my High School Spanish to be able to talk with those customers to let them know that their order had arrived. Unfortunately, my Spanish language skills got very rusty when I lived in New England for twenty-nine years! I regret not keeping up with the language. I’ve tried several times to find some affordable courses in the area that would help me to refresh my skills. There have been many times since we moved back here from New England that I wished I could speak Spanish more fluently! I think that the demand for translation services in this area are going to continue to grow!
A few evenings ago one of my sons asked to me find some photos of a family pet we used to have and email them to him. Well, my photo collection is NOT well organized, and I spent a few hours last night looking through dozens of envelopes of photos from the past. Yes, I found some photos of the pet that I will send to him, but that is not the focus of THIS post. This post is about another photo that I found that brought back some memories from a place that I used to work.
This cake was a specialty cake from a bakery in Lewiston Maine. I don’t know the name of the bakery (sorry) and I no longer have contact with the people who originally ordered it, so I don’t know HOW anyone can order this for themselves. But apparently the bakery had a lot of orders for this cake, and to be perfectly honest I think I would be inclined to order this cake on numerous occasions if I could. But I can’t, so it will just have to be a fond memory of a group of co-workers that got a birthday cake for a person who suffered from severe “potty mouth.” The people who ordered it called it a “poop cake.” Well, actually they used a different word that means poop, but I’m trying to “clean it up” for the purposes of being a “G” rated post.
It really is a chocolate cake, with chocolate fudge frosting with peanuts, plastic flies, and bathroom tissue tucked in and around the top of the cake. And yes, we DID eat it. And yes, it WAS delicious. Some of the co-workers joked about it being “Good ****”
The words around the bottom of the cake plate “Potty patrol” because we were always teasing the “potty mouth” co-worker that we needed to assign someone to help him control his mouth!
When I was sixteen, my parents gave me a used car for me to drive to and from school, work, and for my social life. By “gave me” I mean that the car was in my step-mother’s name, but she let me use it exclusively. I loved that car dearly. It was a year older than I was, but it was a “cool car.” It was a 1954 4 door hard top Bel-AireChevrolet with PowerGlide Transmission. It looked a lot like the photograph included in this post (although it is not the exact same car.)
Back then, the kids at school at given me a nickname – “Ted” and the car quickly became know around school as “Ted’s Tank.” When a vandal broke off the radio antennae, I replaced it with a hand-made peace symbol fashioned out of light blue coat hangers. Owning that car made me “almost cool” at my school, and I was so sad when my parents sold it after I had managed to purchase a new car in my own name after I turned 18.
Anyhow, I had managed to purchase some bumper stickers to place on the back of the car (and purchased some duplicates just in case they ever needed to be replaced. Today I was rummaging around my craft room, looking for my crochet hooks. I looked inside an old yarn bag, and much to my surprise, I found two of those “spare” bumper stickers that I had purchased back when I was 16! Boy, did those bumper stickers bring back some memories of my high school days, and all of the fun that my friends and I had in that car. (Like playing “Fire Drill” while driving down the entire length of Arlington Boulevard from Vienna to Arlington while driving my friend Alice home after a day of visiting and having fun with our mutual friend Shan and my brother Steve. Oh, the memories!)
Not knowing what will ever happen to these little gems, I have decided to scan them into my computer and post them here on my blog, which will post to Facebook, for posterity. I imagine if any of my old school chums happen to see the post it just might bring a smile to their face!