MPT Part 4: Second Grade, Bigger House and Music

This is the fourth in a series of 15 blogs I'm writing for Mommy's Piggy Tales .  Janna has provided a forum for members to write and share stories from their youth.  I'm really enjoying thinking about things that happened decades ago!

 
 A Bigger House with Music Everywhere

My home from 1950 onward.

On a sunny day in late August 1950, my dad brought in the big truck from the farm and backed it up to the front porch of the Little House.  All our family belongings were packed  to "ride along" a mere two blocks to the place that would be home for the next 16 years.  This was a major family milestone!

My mom's dream kitchen

We REALLY needed a bigger house.  My sister M was about to enter junior high (6th grade for our system) and certainly she didn't want to put up with me any more than necessary.  Similarly, I didn't want her touching my dolls.  Mom needed space to sew and she had dreamed of  a modern kitchen.  And my dad wished for a "farmer's office" in the basement where he could come in from a hard day wearing his dusty and sweaty overalls, relax, keep his records, and shower before dinner.  After extensive remodeling (much done by my parents), this house was perfect for us. We were all tremendously excited and oh so happy with the big move.

Fall 1950 in newly wallpapered living room.

I was entering 2nd Grade.  My cousin was allowed to walk a block out of her way to our house and we could still skip, run, and talk as we headed to school, rain or shine. We knew the route very well and where to avoid the scary dogs! Two other friends often joined us.  We had a very caring teacher that year with a soft and kind voice.  We were becoming good readers and progressing in all the academic areas.

Ages 11 and 8.  November 23, 1950 in our new house.

We always laugh at this set of birthday photos because the new radiator cover had not been installed and we are sitting on piano books!  As always, Mom came up with some appropriate cakes.  If you read music, it's OK to hum the song to us! M loved chocolate cake but I normally chose something "bigger than hers" like angel food this year.

Did we like sharing a birthday?  For the most part, yes. (The only bad part was that I have no photos of me on my birthday without M.... and I felt guilty when I photoshopped her out recently. ha ha )   Our parents made sure we had a fun, appropriate celebration every year, always on the right date, the 23rd.    In 1950 our birthday was actually on Thursday, Thanksgiving Day.  We had dinner at our grandparents and Mom volunteered to bring her usual homemade dinner rolls and two desserts!

Something I didn't like, though, was the fact that M and I were three years apart in age and four years apart in school.  When she started school, children were sometimes allowed to skip a grade and she did.  By the time I began, the schools no longer allowed the practice (good thing.)  However, as a child,  I thought it was weird that I was four grades behind M in school.  As we got older, it didn't matter as much.  Our personalities and interests are quite different (but we are very close as adults).  I was certainly happy that we were not in high school together.  So was she!

As a second grader, I was now old enough to begin piano lessons. My teacher was a dear family friend and an accomplished musician.  My sister took from her too.  I find it hard to believe that my mother enjoyed listening to us practice, but she actually did. And she definitely noticed when we repeatedly hit a wrong chord!  She was eager for us to have the lessons that she didn't have as a child.  However, her natural music talent plus determination was far more important in her progress than formal lessons.  

Also at this time I began singing in the Children's Choir at church under my mother's leadership.  Mom played the organ using her hands and feet and directed with her elbows and head while singing!   In Catholic churches at that time, the choir was in a loft at the back of the church, so no one saw her unusual (and effective) technique.  Mom loved the choir, teaching us Latin hymns and High Masses. She dedicated herself to liturgical music for many years.  Most parishioners were eager for their daughters to participate from 2nd Grade through High School.

At home, we sang around the piano frequently.  I remember Mom teaching us to hear the parts.  M inherited more of the "music genes" than I did and she could hear the harmony.  But it was sooo hard for me.  Mom would say,  "Karen, just sing the melody and hold the tune."  I'd put my hands over my ears to do my best and I tried very hard not to cry.   Once we had it,  Mom would join in as a third part.  My dad always asked for an encore from his family trio. Then he'd hug his girls.  Actually all this was fun.

Diagram of Grandparents staircase

When we visited our grandmother, she often asked us to sing. In their house, the staircase was partially enclosed with a big opening where kids could line up on the stairs and perform.  Mom played the piano from down below in their living room and we stood on the steps to sing for dear Grandma.   She always smiled, clapped, and cried.

In time, I realized that I had inherited more "crying genes" from my grandmother than "music genes" from my mother!

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