December 30

Oh, don’t I sound all sensible and scholarly!

1964

Surprise! Os were home at 1:05. Wonder of Wonders! $2.50 for a 4 hour job. See what I mean? At T’s I got $2.55 for 6 hours. Hey! I’ve been gypped at 50 cents an hour that’s $3.00. But how can you do it? What do you say when a client asks “Is this enough?” You feel like an ogre saying “no”.

I might work in Millbrook with Dad this summer. I hope I can! I’d have to get New York State papers and pay N.Y. taxes.

Comment 2022

My sincere apologies for using (and misspelling) a common slang word for “cheated” that we now know as a slur. But I have decided that protecting my present self from embarrassment does not include whitewashing my 1964 vocabulary.

The prospect of working with my dad was as exciting as a summer working at Camp Maria Pratt. Newspapers were the family business; my great-grandfather was a minister and a printer. His son, my grandfather, left school at twelve to drive a grocery wagon, took over his father’s print shop at fourteen, and started a weekly paper at sixteen. My father, born and raised to the tune of the clanking presses in the first-floor shop, learned the trade in his teens and never left it. By 1964 he was more journalist than printer, working for a chain of small weekly papers as the editor of the Millbrook (NY) Round Table. It would have been quite a summer. Between 1963 and 1968, Millbrook was home to Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert (later Ram Dass) and their League for Spiritual Discovery. According to New York State historian Devin Lander, “The psychedelic counterculture was not created in California. It was created in Millbrook.” As far as I can recall, Dad never reported on the goings-on at the Dietrich estate, but he did talk about its odd assortment of inhabitants over the dinner table. Little did we know.

Eventually, both my brother and I had stints with the papers, Bob as a reporter and assistant editor (?) of the Pawling-Patterson News Chronicle, and me as proofreader, paste-up girl and occasional reporter with the New Milford Times. But the family tradition ended by the time we finished college. Probably a good thing; small town newspapers have long since disappeared, replaced by online “communities” like NextDoor. RIP.

1975

Time marshes on. I got all that stuff done. But all this waiting has me down. Waiting for news about jobs, waiting for information about my thesis, and waiting for Bob to show up. I know that I should be getting more done, but it’s hard to concentrate with all this waiting. Today I did more than I thought I did, as usual.

1) Did 1 1/2 more classes of lesson planning.
2) grocery shopping
3) Finished Connie’s pillow
4) Made curtains for the French doors
5) Called Amtrak and Taylor Rental
Also much time wasted, but it is vacation time!

Also much time wasted, but it is vacation time!

1980

I went in to work today and have been working fairly well. I have at least thought of my main fields of interest, and they are two:

1) continue my MS thesis work on apparel and textile workers
2) continue my PhD work on fashion as an expression of identity

For the next four years, I should focus on one - preferably the second, since my dissertation began in that direction. The other I can let simmer or eventually let go. (Oh, don’t I sound all sensible and scholarly!) I started reading Carl Bode’s “Maryland” today and found it very enjoyable reading. His style is pleasant, informative, and straightforward. He sounds intelligent, but not overly intellectual. Not pedantic, just engaging. I could a little of whatever he uses!

1990

The end of another year. Another return from yet another trip to Connecticut. How many more, I wonder? Jim’s mother seems healthy, but since she doesn’t go to doctors, doesn’t eat right, doesn’t appear top take good care of herself, who knows? She is 83, and thought she might love to be 100, most people don’t. I came back resolved to help Mom adjust more to aging (and me, too). Maybe like childhood, it is no do-it-yourself project. Yet how hard it must be to accept help from your children than your parents.

This year, I want patience. I want my sanity back. I want time with my family. I want to take it easier. I want to own less stuff this time next year. I want to make a will. I want to get rid of Pop-Pop’s stamps. I want to save money instead of spending so much. I want to enjoy looking at my body. I want clothes that fit and look good on me. I want to be a peacemaker. I want to help Kiddo 2 have fewer tantrums and help Kiddo 1 become more responsible. I want to accomplish some of those abandoned projects that just seem to exist to IRRITATE me. (All the dozen things around the house, for example.) I want to work out 2x a week. I want to NEVER have dirty hair. I want decent shoes. I want to start planning meals again.

What a list!

Did I say I wanted to take it easier?

Comment 2024
This was me at forty.

2002

Mystic, CT

This was a diverting excursion - - - Connie, Jack and two kids took a getaway to Mystic the same weekend Kiddo 1 and I were coming, so we joined them. I almost brought work.