A penny for your thoughts...

The other day I removed all of the loose change from my purse. I had managed to collect $36.68; no wonder it was so heavy! I sorted out all the change as some was Canadian currency and some was US. There were lots of pennies. I wanted to see which coin was the oldest. It turned out that there were two pennies that were the oldest, dating back to 1974. One penny was Canadian, with a little duo of maple leaves on the front; the other was a US penny, with Lincoln still visible on both sides. Those pennies had been around for 35 years!

Of course, I wondered how far and wide these pennies had travelled, only to be collected in the palm of my hand, at this moment in time. I am sure if they could talk, they would have some stories to tell. Perhaps they would tell me that they had greater value, once upon a time. I then wondered about my life, and about how far and wide I had travelled. I agreed with myself that I had travelled far and wide, indeed. But, for a few moments of self-indulgence, I sat there thinking of a time in my life, in 1974. I thought about where we lived as a family, who we knew in our circle of friends, and what was happening at school. Here is a list of things that came to mind, in no particular order. (I have learned the beauty and simplicity of a list from a dear, dear friend, recently):

1974

I was in the fourth grade. I had to wear glasses and I hated them.

This was the year my mother gave my brother and I our own house keys because she would not be at home when we left for or returned from school. She had a friend of hers macrame a beautiful design using fine cord with red beads so we could wear the keys around our necks and not lose them. We wore those keys proudly! We were the original ‘latchkey’ kids in our neighbourhood. I felt so important wearing that key!

Our apartment had bright green shag carpet. I imagined it was grass.

I began my collection of “Raggedy Ann and Andy” books.

Shawn Roach (eewwww!) ran up to me on the playground one day and planted a fat, sloppy kiss on my cheek. I was stunned and the girls then thought I was a pariah because not only had a BOY kissed me, but he was a ROACH! I was mortified. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. I have no idea why he did this and I hated him for it.

I was taking swimming lessons at the local YMCA and discovered I cannot float.

My violin playing was improving, but only very slowly. But I didn’t care as it was fun to bug my brother while ‘practicing’. It must have actually hurt him to listen to me; the looks that would cross his face were at once horrifying and mesmerizing. I hope he has forgiven me.

We lived in Bellevue, Washington. Slugs would show up in our garden and on the patio stones. We learned to sprinkle salt on them. Over a period of a day or two, the poor little slugs would shrink into a hard little chip of matter, no longer fat or slimy. I feel bad that I killed so many. But why would God make a creature that is so defenceless? They were creepy and slimy. Thank goodness I am no longer afraid of them.

A stray cat adopted us and fell in love with me. I named him “Tinker”. He came and went as he pleased, but had a real passion for me. Once, when swimming in the apartment complex pool, he wanted to be with me so badly he actually jumped into the water! He used to walk me to the bus stop, and he would be waiting for me when the bus delivered me back home at the end of the day.

My brother and I loved to sing "Kung Fu Fighting" and "I Shot the Sheriff". We would ride our bikes until darkness fell and the street lights came on.

Sometimes we had to go to the lady next door to be ‘babysat’. Her son, Richard, was such a brat. She weighed about 300 pounds and loved to watch professional wrestling. She would make the worst meals. Finally, after much pleading, my mother agreed to leave us on our own when she went out.

Speaking of meals. My mother went through a real ‘health food kick’. Brown rice casserole (perhaps the 70’s was the casserole decade?). She would add onions and zucchini, and cover with some shredded sharp cheddar cheese. It was positively disgusting to my fourth grader sensibilities. But now as an adult, it is one of my favourite comfort foods! Another entry from what you might call the “Gallery of Regrettable Foods” was her goulash. It sounds disgusting, and it was. But then I was only 10 years old. I wanted Cheeze Whiz on white bread. But she insisted on feeding us whole wheat bread (Roman Meal- ugh!). That bread was a dry and as tasteless as a pair of old Roman sandals.

Other foods she liked to make: homemade granola- it did smell wonderful while it was being toasted. She also loved to cook with sesame seeds, honey, and carob. We made Christmas decorations out of marzipan that year... it was weird stuff and tasted like almonds.

This was the year I discovered the poetry of Rod McKuen. I loved his albums “The Sky” and “The Sea”. His voice was so soothing, the music was so beautiful, and the content of his poems was so incredibly romantic. I would listen to these vinyl records for hours on end.

So I suppose 1974 was a pretty good year for me. What would be on your list if you were to spend some time thinking about your life in 1974? I would love to read it sometime…