Category Archives: Memories

A ringing doorbell makes mother dingy

This account was from fall 1982. Bob installed a doorbell because if someone knocked on the porch door we’d never hear them. A few visitors then walked away.

Of course, family didn’t need the bell. They just walked in.

Russell was almost three when he figured out how to reach the button for the bell. He loved that when he pushed it Mommy would show up and give him what he wanted.

This recording is what I wrote in my column all those years ago.

Today, there’s a doorbell on my backdoor, but no one uses it. People knock and expect me to hear their rapping. I don’t.

My real doorbell is my dog Sunny. If he notices knocking he goes toward the door.

If Sunny is sleeping deeply, he doesn’t hear anything, which is too bad for a passing salesman, but good for me.

So if you come knocking, remember there’s a bell. It really gets my attention. I usually jump a foot when it is buzzed.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

A memory saved

I’m always encouraging people to save their family stories. Today’s video is one short suggestion how to get started.

Now look around your home and see what jogs your memory. After you find that item, write down the memory or record it like I have done today.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

A Charlie Paska story

Something different. Today I decided to record one of my dad’s stories.

My dad told it better, but at least he wrote down some of his stories. This one was adapted in my novel Chicken Charlie’s Year. There you’ll find more action that I imagined and added to fill out this remembrance.

I hope you enjoy it.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

Grandchildren visit extended

This weekend daughter Rachel, her husband Dave, and their three children visited, camping in my backyard. This started with rain and lightening and ended with a cool drizzle.

I can’t keep them here all year, so I thought I’d capture a part to save.

This five second video is for me to use as a daily pick-me-up.

I will also take air-hugs any way I can get them.

This last video is a reminder to laugh as well as love.

Eli, Arianna, and Wyatt, thank you for making today fun and for letting me save a part for days when we can’t be together.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

Perseid Meteor Shower

Tis the season for the Perseid Meteor Shower.

The shower’s peak early tomorrow, August 12th, between 2 am and sunrise. Reports also say that many meteors may be seen in the next few mornings.

Perseid Meteor Shower photo from internet

Early this morning, around 2, I had to get up to go to the bathroom. I thought about going out to observe the meteor shower for a few minutes.

Things for me to consider: night critters, the cool night air, and being alone.

Did I go back to bed? No.

I put on Bob’s robe, still hanging in our bedroom, and stepped out on the upper deck of the house. There wouldn’t be any critters up there.

The waning moon was bright, but if I turned my face away from it the sky was darker and made it easier for me to watch for meteors.

The night was beautiful, calm and cool.

It wasn’t too long before I saw a flash in the sky. That meteor made me happy.

In past summers, when family camped here, we’d all stay up and look at the night sky.

I miss those days but I especially miss Bob’s company.

I also missed my friend Colleen Sutherland. Living in town meant Colleen couldn’t see the night sky well enough for the shower. One early morning, Colleen and a few others came to watch the Perseid Shower at our home.

We were bundled up for a very cool, damp morning. Hot cocoa was sipped as we settled down on our lawn chairs, chatting, and waiting.

A ground fog rolled in. I don’t remember if we saw any meteors before it arrived, but I still remember the time I spent with my friends.

This morning, I stayed up about 20 minutes and saw six meteors flash by, and then I went back to bed, happy I had made the trip out–I’ll probably go out again tonight as the weather will be about the same.

I hope you see a meteor and make a wish as it streaks across the sky.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved