Every year I gather clothes I no longer enjoy from my own closet, grab a coffee and head to this event midspring. I’m never disappointed. And I love this event, not only because I always meet and laugh with friends, I love that I get to go shopping without a wallet, without an agenda, without sales clerks, without any overhead.
In a world where children’s birthday parties can cost more than my car, I asked friends from large families what they did for their birthdays.
Today I muse joyfully and very briefly on the hours between twelve and three on Good Friday and for all of the Irish Catholic mothers who treasured this most special time.
I love how we New Englanders seem to have built in forgetters, seasonal amnesia. I know I certainly do as I go sort through my gloves, my jackets, my winter gear and think, “Will I ever need this stuff again? Certainly it will never get THAT cold. Heck, who needs these scarves? Not me!”
Let’s face it, when you’ve been mentioned in Joyful Musings, your celebrity status increases tenfold. You’re a star; people constantly request selfies with you, your Twitter followers number in the six digits, paparazzi besiege you at Market Basket, Stop & Shop. Friendly’s.
Bedrooms for large families tended to be more dorm room than show places with canopy beds and sheets from Pottery Barn.
To this day, I can simply whisper, “barium enema” to my sister and it puts her into a cold sweat. If I gave her a red enema bulb, it might just do her in, cause her enema PTSD to flare.
Joyful Musings celebrates big families and library cards.
As I continue to muse joyfully on big families, I think of the myriad of Grandmother Footit’s grandchildren, my brothers, sisters and cousins. And I think in particular of one of those forty whose life ended much too soon, Noreen Britton Minkler.
“We had one bathroom in our house, one shower for eight people.”