Christmastime is Here

Christmastime is here...I sure love remembering this Charlie Brown lyric and watching all of my other seasonal favorites like that sweet reindeer with the bright shining red nose and my frothy friend Frosty.  Why did he have to melt and make me all emotional?  Oh...it's just a story; nothing to worry about...it all works out to be a happy ending.

I'm missing my siblings a little more this year and my Momma and Dad.  Sometimes, I just breeze through the Holidays and other years...well, it hits me in the heart.   That's where it counts.  The heart of Christmas is Faith, Family and making great memories with the ones you love. 

On Sunday, the music at our Church was really beautiful and touched the hearts of those listening...a special song called "The Heart of Christmas" by Matthew West is the song Jonathan sang with a little harmony from me, Dana and Cindy and Don playing bass.  Listen to it on Youtube when you get the chance.  All of Matthew West's songs are really thoughtful and you can find a whole list available for your "heart" to hear.

Thinking about the heart of Christmas brings me back to some fond memories I have of the silver foil tree at Grandma's and our Charlie Brown tree in Ashland.  Our Christmas presents were few but times were different then...we didn't expect anything so when we received one or two things, it was really appreciated!

Here are a few photos I've found recently of my childhood Christmas memories...some taken at my Grandmother's home and some in the home I grew up in on Montgomery Avenue...the first one is me standing with my Brother, Chip and beside me is the Penguin I received from Dad marked "Airmail from Antartica".

From my heart to yours....Merry Christmas Everyone!

The Pixie, Kindergarten and on to First Grade

Time was drawing near and the pressure was on to somehow, someway register and attend Mrs. Grace Kinner's Kindergarten Class beginning in the Fall.  It was simply not going to happen until my brave and sweet Mother negotiated a trade.  Zina Mae decided to offer housecleaning services to Mr. and Mrs. Kinner so I could go to a private pay Kindergarten in our neighborhood.  How thankful I am today for this wonderful experience.  It made me grow up alot and experience many children from all over Ashland that I am still friends with today.  I really loved Helen Hall, my neighbor and Mrs. Kinner's helper.  She always encouraged us to follow the rules with kindness, kept us in line and gave us structure.

The Pixie Haircut
Age 5

Believe it or not, I started a trend with my Pixie haircut.  My first bestfriend in life and Mrs. Kinner's classroom was Amy Raferty and she just had to have a pixie haircut too.  Then came the matching lipstick pink raincoats.  It was nice having a best friend.  I stayed pretty close to her for the entire year and helped her when she needed a little extra help and encouragement on the playground and in the classroom.  It was so sad when we had to part and enter into elementary schools across town from eachother.  I went to Crabbe Elementary and Amy went to Oakview, if I remember correctly, and I just didn't understand why it had to happen this way.  I also missed seeing Romeo-strickened Tim Rice 5 days a week.  I remember him trying to speak French to me like Pepe LePew...every now and then he wanted to kiss my entire right arm.  He was so darn cute with freckles on his cheeks and big brown eyes and quite endearing.

 

Then there was Liz Peebles...she was apart of my Kindergarten class and much to my surprise, appeared at Crabbe Elementary the very morning I showed up for my first day of First Grade.  I was happy about seeing her but she had a rough time with separation anxiety and cried so hard that it reminded me that I was also far, far away from my own security blanket of home.  It kindof freaked me out so bad that I wondered how I would get through the first week.  I was a nervous Nellie until I laid eyes on one of the most beautiful girls in the world.  I saw a heart of gold through her sparkling green eyes.   She had braided hair, the biggest smile and I thought she was a real live American Indian.  I thought to myself, well...she's unique and I like her.  I decided then and there we were going to be best friends and that's all there was to it.  I needed her and she needed me.  Plus, her middle name nearly matched mine...Lynn...yes, Dorothy Lynn Anderson was her name and we are still best friends today.  She and I became official blood sisters in Second Grade which really sealed the deal.

 

 

I remember when Dottie mentioned to me that if we were really to be best friends then we just had to become blood sisters so we went out from the school, into Central Park close to the Tennis Courts, found a rock or something to slice our fingertips a little, then watched the blood come to the surface of our skin.  We then rubbed our fingers together and that's all she wrote...we became official blood sisters for life. 

 

 

Dottie's Mommy always liked me because she knew I loved her daughter.  Although Dottie did have American Indian in her, she also had Spanish, Hungarian, English and African-American.  My sweet friend was a mix of refreshing nationalities that brought something different to the table.  Plus she could dance like noneother.  In fact, she taught me how to do the "four corners" at one of our Ice Cream Socials her Mommy hosted at the school.  Maybe I learned so quickly because we were blood sisters.  I was the only friend allowed to come over to Dottie's home on Saturdays to play.  We stayed outside in the fenced-in dusty yard mostly but just liked being together...didn't have to do much of anything else.  My Dad would drop me off and pick me up.  My Dad knew Dottie's Dad, Bill Anderson, as they had a few things in common.  Navymen they were and they also went to the same Barber located in the Mayo Arcade in heart of town.   

 

 

Dottie and I grew up together in Crabbe Elementary School creating many great childhood memories like being on School Patrol together during 5th and 6th grades.

 

 



A Humble Beginning

Having a humble beginning in a humble home means alot these days.  Seems like we are now in the mindset of  "I want it and I want it now".   I certainly did not grow up this way but at times feel I've adopted the Babyboomer mindset.


 

 

 

3 years old and as sweet as sugar until Momma pulled the scissors out and pure fear set in when she attempted to cut my bangs.  I remember sitting on the white wooden stairway, gritting my teeth and screaming while the pointy scissors came my way.  I have always been a little particular about my hair...maybe it all started with this!

Standing with my Sister on our broken sidewalk in front of our home.  The Sweeney's lived in the home directly behind Jeanine and The Bowling's lived on the left.  We were close families on this corner of our street.

I remember Jeanine drawing my first Hopscotch game with chalk on this broken sidewalk.  I stubbed many-a-toe on this broken sidewalk.  Probably because I ran so fast to the IceCream truck that parked in front of our house during the Summer months.  I just had to have a Blue Rasperry Snow Cone each time for a dime then a quarter in later years.

Oh how sweet...4 years old and ready for the camera at Olan Mills.  I always enjoyed the whole process of getting ready for the appointment at the professional studio.  The shampoo the night before, Dippity Doo, pink sponge rollers that I had to sleep in, ironing of the blouse and dress and Sunday's best white patton leather shoes.

Good times and more to come!

A Surprise Addition

"Surprise, I'm expecting", Momma said about a year after the family moved to Ashland, KY.   I guess after Dad came home from his last tour-of-duty, a little "togetherness" happened and thus a petite, dark-haired, brown-eyed little girl was born in January of 1963.  I'm not sure how or why but I remember the view outside my Mother's hospital window from King's Daughters Hospital.  Maybe it's because they talked about it so much...that Momma held me up at the window while Dad stood there below with my Big Brother and Sister looking up at me.  The introduction was powerful, I'm sure.  The cozy family of four now had a new number of five.

My Christening Day, Easter 1963

I think they are going to keep me...how could they not!

 

My 1st Birthday Cake made by Momma

My 1st Birthday Party celebrated with Nonna Murer, Laura Murer and Ms. Stoval
I actually remember this moment very vividly in our simple home when eating around the table meant so much to family and friends.

16 months old, I loved my soft red corderoy bibbed overalls.

Getting ready for my first bite of cake

Lovin my Daddy

I sure had a full head of hair!

Enjoying my first bite of cake and scared of my super-sized sippy cup!

My Mom's favorite polka dot dress. I still like this color today.

 



Brother and Sister

My Brother and Sister were very close.  They grew up together being four years apart and experienced a good time in the family before I came along.

It was a simpler time when Mom and Dad were in the Navy and somewhat provided for by the U.S. Goverment.  They lived on Base wherever they were stationed and had their basic needs provided for like medical and health, food and clothing purchased at a discount price at the Commissary (an on Base store)and their home which was part of the salary provided to Dad for serving in the U.S. Navy.

While completing his last several tour-of-duties while his young family lived with Grandma Ada, Dad began searching for a city to be stationed in for his pre-retirement phase in the Navy.  He wanted somewhere close to Beckley, WV and found Ashland, KY and worked out of a Recruiting Station located inside The Ventura Hotel (no longer in existence).  It was only a two hour drive to Beckley from there and he knew Momma would be pleased. 

My parents chose a neighborhood they could afford on Dad's retirement salary which was not much in those days.  My Mother was a typical stay-at-home mom which meant Dad most certainly had to work another job to make ends meet.  This included playing music at different events. 

Our neighborhood was called "Vatican City" and "Little Italy" at the local police station because of the Italian/Catholic families that settled there.  It was within walking distance to Holy Family Catholic Church and School which made it easier on Momma because Chip and Jeanine could walk there.

The hardworking families that lived on Montgomery Avenue were close to their neighbors and enjoyed helping eachother.  It was a simpler time in the 1960's.  Each Summer, the police would close off one section of our street and let the sun go down on the Marzetti's, the Murer's, the Cumbo's and the Irish bunch (The Seary's) welcoming the other neighbors to the end of the street for a block party filled with music, foods and games enjoyed by the shimmer of strings of colorful lights.  Dante Marzetti was the "Grand Master", organized many a Vatican City Block Party and wore a King's crown to prove it.

Nino Murer and Sister

Laura Murer and Husband

Nelly Marzetti, Dad and Mom

Nino, daughter Diane and Jean Murer
Son, John is not in this picture.
Nino's parents, John and Nonna (I called her) were very special Immigrants.
John Murer, Sr. was Masonary and much of his work can be found today in the Catholic Cemetary located off 13th Street in Ashland, KY.  I remember the wooded tables he would make with a porcelain Virgin Mary medallion in the middle of the table top.  I also remember the fresh breads Nonna would make with dates and sprinkle confectionary sugar on top.  Our families lived side-by-side and enjoyed quality time together.  John grew a garden in the middle of our homes with Italian lettuces likes endive. 

The Tony Cumbo Family Begins

It's time for a little more history on how my family began...the Tony Cumbo Family.

Dad was a Navy man as I mentioned before.  He was out-at-sea much of my early childhood.  What a handsome man he was dressed in his Uniform.



Dad enjoyed being a Navy Man.  He worked in the office/clerical work, with the medical staff and entertained fellow troops with his Accordian.

Mom and Dad dining out with their Navy friends.  They were stationed in Rhode Island then Brooklyn, New York when they were first married. 

 

 

First came Love, then came Marriage, then came Baby in a Baby Carriage

James Edward Cumbo
My Big Brother "Chip"

 

 After my Brother Chip was about 4 years old, my parents welcomed their second child, Jeanine.  She was a beauty and the apple of my Dad's eye.

Jeanine and Chip
at their home in South Carolina
Dad was stationed in South Carolina for a few years, some of their best years

Momma, Dad, Chip and Jeanine

After living in Rhode Island, New York and South Carolina...Tony brought his family back to Beckley, WV to live with Grandma Ada while he had a tour-of-duty for six months at-a-time in oceans all over the World.  I remember him talking about seeing Australia, Africa, New Zealand, French Rivera, Italy, Antartica, Germany and more.  Dad was well traveled because of his Navy career and retired after 23 years of giving service to the United States of America.

 



PN1 Tony Edward Cumbo, US Navy

Thank You Dad for taking pride in serving our Country!
You are my favorite Veteran!

Tony and his Shipmates

Dad Accepting an Award of Excellence

The Month of September

The Month of September has always been a time of change and renewal in my life.  Someone once told me that because I had a deep connection with my Father and his birth month was in September, I could always count on this month as being a good one to re-evaluate, begin new creative projects, and get things in order.

I have fond memories of September as being a month of celebration of birthdays and a special anniversary. My parent's special day of uniting the Cumbo's and the Coffman's happened Sept 9th many years ago.  My father was Catholic and my mother was Baptist so they married in a Methodist church.  I guess this was the compromise of blending the two denominations.  Nonetheless, my Mother converted in later years and became a Catholic too.  Our family that included my brother Chip, sister Jeanine, and myself were raised Catholic for years until it changed...and that's another story.  Lets get back to the celebrations of September...

My father's birthday happened each Labor Day Weekend...on September 3 then a week later we celebrated my Grandmother Ada's birthday on the 10th and inbetween Mom and Dad celebrated their Anniversary.  I remember the sappy cards my Father always gave my Mom along with red roses and chocolates.  Sometimes a bottle of perfume would appear as well.  Dad was very sentimental when it came to birthdays which I found to be endearing.

We did the Birthdays up right...cake, ice cream and family time.  Good stuff indeed.  Now, I have another reason to celebrate in September...my handsome husband Jonathan has a birthday on the 30th...last but certainly not least...quite the contrary as he is one of the most blessed individuals I know!  When God created him, He included all of the qualities a man could ever hope of having like a good heart of unconditional love, talented in all areas of music, can dance like there's no tomorrow and can cook meals that warrant his own cooking show!  Jonathan is also an artist and craftsman... I'm a lucky woman indeed!  Oh, and did I mention he can mix a great Martini and even stuffs the olives with blue cheese???  Yep, he's a keeper!

The Giving Tree

 

The Giving Tree, a book written by Shel Silverstein and a favorite read weekly to my boys at bedtime during their childhood.  I have a signed copy tucked away for when they want to read again as young men today.

 

A Giving Tree...a Pear Tree growing in our own backyard with ripened rewards waiting for little hands to come pick.  Our Grandson, Jasper just had to find a way to knock down a few during his last visit.  His determination brought him a bounty of fresh & delicious pears for his trip home with a little help from his Nona lifting him up to the nearest branch. 

 

One night, as I slowly drifted off to sleep enjoying the image of Jasper under our Pear Tree, another image in another backyard quickly came to mind...one taken many years ago on a day filled with the chilly air of Autumn in the mountains of West Virginia. 

 

 

I can still smell the crisp Autumn air in my Grandmother's backyard.  The Apple and Walnut trees gave us an aroma of what was to come...fresh applesauce canned for the Winter and fresh cracked black walnuts that were added to the banana walnut bread I can still smell.



If I could, I would like to have just one more picnic on the patio.. a small area where our gatherings took place many times a year.  The painted metal chairs were exchanged for a redwood stained picnic table and a couple of foldout chairs.  We just had to have a place to put the "Sun Tea" my Dad enjoyed making for our gatherings.  We'll have a celebration on a grander scale someday when we all see eachother again in an even better place.

 

I remember eating soooo many apples, my tummy hurt!  Everyone warned me but I did it anyway...craving the juicy tartness sprinkled with salt when the apples were still green.

 

My Sister, Jeanine, was 8 years older than me and probably not as impressed with the new delight I had discovered in our Grandmother's backyard.  Nonetheless, her presence was always welcomed in my mind...she was my big Sister!

 

What's one of your favorite tastes from your childhood?  Something sweet? Something tart?  Something made from the heart?  Something from your own backyard?

REST AND RENEW

...those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.  Isaiah 40:30-31, NIV

Do you ever feel like you are a part of the movie, "Ground Hog Day" when the character played by Bill Murray wakes up everyday and repeats the same habits and patterns expecting a different result? Finally he learns that in order to achieve something different, one must put their self centered needs aside and try harder to do something different in choices and learned behavior.

This whole concept of watching this kind of thing happen in the lives of individuals you care about can be maddening.  It can take your breath away and stop your blood flow.  Habits of others can pollute the air even in the most perfect setting.  After years of same events, even the strongest of heart with the best intensions cannot stand up to the spills of addiction 100% of the time.  The evils of addiction contain characteristics of deceit, confusion and defeat.  On the positive side, we have to remember to pray the evils away and ask that they be placed "under our feet" and that we be protected in all ways in Jesus's  Name in an effort to keep calm and have some kind of victory over the negative cloud that happens in the lives of people who have to pick up the pieces from the choices others continually make.

At what point do you stop picking up the pieces for people who's "way" has become perverted with addiction?  Perversion applies to many areas of the addict.  Many of us think it's of a sexual nature.  And yes, it can be and usually is, however, Webster's Dictionary provides us with another definition:  "the process of improperly changing something that is good". 

From what I've witnessed, it takes a lot of planning and effort to purposefully change something that is good.  It also takes a mindset of abjection, corruptness, demoralization, dissoluteness, and debaucherty.  All big words in a big world of deceit.

My interest in starting a blog was to write my life story for my kids and grandkids in order beginning with the lives of my Grandparents, Parents, Siblings then ending up with me and my kids and grandkids.  Well, the plan has changed and I've decided to get on with it...writing what is current and blending the past.  I'll still try to keep an order of things from the past as best as I can with photos and such.  But this moment in time makes me reflect on my Mother.  I always looked at her cheery disposition and wondered what had changed inside of her later in life.  I can tell you that I know a little bit of what happened.  It's other people and their choices that effect you and your "constituion".  They help to change your personal limits and tolerance which would otherwise be flexible. Takes a toll on your disposition sometimes. 

But God's promise rings true everytime.  He will renew and restore your strength.  You do not have to compromise what you believe to be true because God is on your side.  And Our Creator is "all-knowing"!  You cannot hide from your Maker, my friend.  In the end, Truth wins!

Today is a new day for all of us.  Be sure to take time to be still and talk to our Heavenly Father...tell him all about what holds you captive in an effort to release the blood flow again...the flow of energy and love.

Summertime

Summertime is here where I live now and the cookouts and sun-kissed iced tea take me back to the memories of the hot and humid afternoons spent on our front porch swing watching my Mom string the fresh green beans she purchased at Artrip's Market, a corner market located close to our neighborhood. 

Artrip's was the only place in our world that stocked fresh tomatoes, corn, half-runner green beans, cucumbers and all the fruit of the Season.  I so enjoyed the trips we made there and looked forward to the smell of green bean steam that permeated the house.  My mouth salivates now as I remember the platter of sliced cucumber, tomatoe and green onions that was placed in the middle of the table to go with the hot cornbread with butter on top.  I could make a meal out of this by itself but Mom would always have the green beans to go along with it.  Dessert would usually be either lime jello with pineapple, cool whip and nuts or angel food cake sliced with strawberries and cool whip.  All met the approval of all either living in our home or stopping by to visit.

Doesn't this sound familiar to those growing up in the Appalachian Mountains?  I guess many across the South could say the same about the smells and tastes of fresh produce treasures simmering in the kitchen. 

Yes, July 4th Holiday has passed but the good feeling inside when we remember the Summers past, the Watermelon Moons and all the fixins will last and last.

Thank you Momma for my favorite Summertime meals prepared with the special ingredient of your love.