Archive for the '52 week challenge' Category

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Week Two: Winter Memories

1. I was born and raised in San Diego, California.

2. I never owned mittens until I was an adult.

3. I’ve never shoveled snow.

4. I’ve never salted a walk.

5. I’ve never dripped my faucets.

6. I’ve never owned a pair of snow boots or a rain coat.

7. I’ve never made a snow angel.

8. I’ve never been on a snow mobile.

9. I have seen it snow.

10. I have scraped a windshield and dealt with frozen window fluid, while traveling.

My winter memories are much different than most because I grew up in the land of milk and honey.  The perfect weather that I didn’t appreciate until well after I had moved away.

Weather patterns, in Southern California are usually wet and dry.

Winter is wet.

The most drastic “wet” that I remember would have been around 1977 or 1978.  It rained so much, the San Diego river swelled up into the shopping centers.  The traffic was readjusted and bus schedules changed because there was only one way over the valley.. interstate 805.

Nothing else much changed, in winter, where I lived.  I didn’t ever use an umbrella or I got more soaked than not using one. We still walked and took the bus wherever we needed to go.  Life didn’t change much.

One time, my cousins Dolly and Ruby were over and my mom allowed us all to go out and walk in the rain.  What a grand day that was.  We were soaked but happy little kids.

We had no snow days where I went to school.

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Amy Coffin, of The We Tree Genealogy blog has presented a 52 week Genealogy challenge and I’m going to play along the best that I can.

Week One: New Year’s Memories

This is an interesting topic because we don’t really have too many memories we are making surrounding New Year’s or New Year’s Eve, in my family, except one my Grandma Willis started a long time ago. (I wish I had asked, back then, where she got it from.. maybe it was a family tradition when she was growing up, too.  I never heard her mother, my great grandma Peterson say it, but I also never spent NYE with her.) At midnight, she would tell us kids, “go open up the back door and let out the old year and then go open the front door and let in the new year.”  This was always a little special because we almost never used the front door unless there was some sort of delivery.

One time, my Aunt Donmara and I walked to a pay phone, down the street, when I was maybe ten years old, at midnight, to sing Auld Lang Syne to my Grandma Willis.  We practiced the lyrics all day long.  I had never heard the song before that day.

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