Wednesday, October 18, 2017

October 18, 1967: Squeaky grill

Letter postmarked October 17, 1967 (part 2):

This post is a continuation of yesterday's letter, where we went to the North Pole to escape the Los Angeles smog.


Sunday we drove to Olvera Street - yes, again! We had a purpose - David Wayne had to have some "MOUSE SHOES" like his daddy. I wrote you about the Mexican slippers. You should have seen the salesman's face when I told him we had to have a pair that squeaked! I guess they are used to hearing anything from tourists - but . . . shoes that squeaked? Anyway, the boys have great fun seeing who can make the most noise. I bought a pair of sandals - noiseless and very comfortable. I'm going to get Linda Kay a pair for Christmas and if you'll send me Wayne's shoe size I'll get him a pair, too. Dave loves his - good for his athlete's foot, you know.

[I can just see me wanting squeaky shoes like Daddy, and then both of us driving Mom crazy walking around in them.]


I also bought one of those big straw Mexican handbags. Now I can carry extra film, flashbulbs, Dave's billfold, etc. without any difficulty. We bought a pinata in the shape of a witch which is about three feet tall. The only trouble is that it is so cute we don't want to break it. You'd think I was still teaching - our living room looks like a classroom decorated for Halloween!
After leaving Olvera Street (also left a lot of money there) we drove to the beach as it was pretty hot on Sunday. Everybody else had the same idea so we didn't do anything except go to the bathroom while there then drive home. Long way to go just to go to the restroom, eh?
A lady who moved from the apartment house left her grill so we can cook outdoors again - pleased Dave to no end! There is the problem of getting meat to cook though - Safeway had a sale on sirloin last week ($1.59 per pound can you believe it?) At home I got it for 89 cents per pound. It's nice when Dave cooks out because it's less work for me. Last night as he was turning the meat he dropped a good fork in the hot coals. When he came upstairs to tell me about it he looked just like a little boy confessing to some naughty deed. I couldn't get mad because I was too amused at him.

[Dad did love to cook out on the grill. Here is a picture of Mom's birthday present for him in July of 1966, which would have been right before they got married.]




[This picture was taken on the front porch of my grandmother's house in Denton. It's an apron, a hat, and some grilling tools and gloves outfitted on my grandmother's dress form. In the lower portion of this picture there is a little boy about to turn four years old.]

[And here is a picture of me and Dad standing in front of the grill in the back yard of our house on Osceola in Carrollton, followed by a better picture of the grill with me and Mom in front of it.]






[Mom's caption on the one with me and her is: "David Wayne and Linda in back yard. Dave loved the grill in background." That's our dog Taffy walking behind the grill. Note that I am wearing cowboy boots in those pictures. They are probably the same pair I put on the morning of July 17, 1967 when we left Carrollton to move to Los Angeles.]

[So yes, Dad loved to cook on the grill, but he hated it when I would put ketchup on my steak he had worked on so hard. I do remember that being a source of conflict when we lived in Carrollton, along with the usual issues between parents and children over food.]


I am going to start sending Christmas presents next week - in order to beat the rush. In case you get anything before Christmas, don't open it. If you have any ideas for Mike let me know. He is one person I'm stumped about. Also, it is going to be expensive to mail things, so remind everybody that this year it will be nice to think of the "idea of exchanging gifts" instead of the gift itself. I have already bought David Wayne a "Build-A-Road" set for his matchbox cars so that might be an idea for y'all to get him - some more cars!

[I know what I'm getting for Chrisssssstmas, I know what I'm getting for Chrissssssstmas.]


I will close for now. Write when you can. I am still pestering the mailman and I've made a rule never to leave the house until the mail has come. Take care.
Love,
Linda

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