Driving 101

      Recently, sister Judith Anne and I were reminiscing about when she taught me to drive.  All those who hang onto side straps when I get behind the wheel, blame Judy!
      Back before the days when everyone was required to take drivers ed, our Dad took me down to Washington Street on Peoria's Southside on a Sunday afternoon - when there wasn't much traffic - to give me a lesson on driving a car.  I've got to be honest, at 16, it wasn't one of the priorities in my life but Dad felt it was "a rite of passage", I guess.  I remember that he pulled the car into the brick dock in front of the Ice Company Building, got out and told me to get behind the wheel.  I was pretty nervous.  And over the years, when I get nervous, I get sillier than usual.
      First, he explained about the "H" of the gear shift - I got that.  "Put your left foot on the clutch," He said.  "Which is my left foot?", I asked.  I think he swallowed his cigarette.  After he reminded me I was left handed and that might be a clue, and my left foot went to the clutch and right foot on the accelerator, easing it out slowly.  A few bumpy starts and the car moved!  Amazing!
       Now several, actually many, yards in front of me was an Ice Truck parked as we were, parallel  to the street,  he suggested we start again - left foot on clutch, right foot on accelerator and turn out to the street and proceed west on Washington.  Actually driving on a street was pretty intimidating and since there was no traffic, my first thought was getting out to the street fast before any cars came, so look at the rear view mirror,  left foot on clutch, right foot on accelerator hard to beat any oncoming traffic - and there was none, and all of a sudden his foot came over  to the brake and we stopped suddenly.  "Get out of the car." He said tersely.   I was so concentrated on left foot, right, I had not turned the steering wheel, and we almost went under the Ice Truck.
      That was the end of my driving lessons from Dad.   It was really okay, because we had street cars and then buses that went right by the house on Howett Street.
       When I married Vern, he could care less that I drove.  In fact, he liked the idea of knowing that I was home with the babies and not gallivanting out somewhere.  Periodically, I would decide I really should drive and convince Vern to take me out on the back roads by the airport - we were living on Maxwell Road by this time.  We drove a four door Ford and Vern had built a bench and covered it with carpet.  It fit in front of the back seat so that the daughters could play in the back or sleep when we traveled to Missouri.  When Vern would drive towards Smithville Road, Alissa, then about three or four, would realize it was going to be a driving lesson, she would be on her knees right behind the front seat and she would begin to cry:  "Don't let her drive, Daddy, she's going to kill us all!"  Not the best confidence builder.
       In 1965, Judy's husband, Bill's job transferred him to Pennsylvania and Judy said that before she moved - she was primarily my wheels - I was going to learn to drive.  We were living on Martin Street at that time and our automobile was a black station wagon.  We would load my five (I was pregnant with Maureen) and her two in the back and I proceeded to learn to drive.  (Alissa had cousins in the car with her and was distracted)  When you have that many kids and they are being kids, you tend to tune them out and so I concentrated and learned to drive.   Vern was not happy, as I said he liked the fact that I was home and "barefoot and pregnant",  to quote an old saying.    The first time, I went to the grocery store by myself, no kids, and he didn't have to go - he hated grocery shopping - he began to realize me driving wasn't such a bad idea.
      I am grateful to my sister for teaching me this most basic of skills.  I have driven to Missouri, Indiana and Wisconsin on my own many times.  And taken my turn driving as we meandered out West.  When I travel now, I just put on my 'favorites' playlist and enjoy the drive.  When I hear of women my age who never learned to drive, it makes me sad.  What freedom, they are missing.
      Shortly before Vern died, I did most of the driving, often even to Church.    I can think of a couple of times that we went up to Wisconsin to visit the Benways and I drove four and a half hours both ways - he liked to sleep in his own bed too.  A lot of things change in 52 years of marriage.
           

Incident #12-8475

     I was robbed!  Actually!   Saturday, April 7, daughter, Mary was showing her Aunt Judy and myself some of the views of Couer d'Alene, Idaho when my cell phone rang.  It was daughter, Lora saying she had bad news.  The police had called her and told her that someone had unlocked the back window into my living room and they needed me to contact them.  I did.
    I called dear friend, Sue Sepich, who went to the house, checked it over and called me back to tell me that all the televisions were missing, the computer monitor and a gallon jug of change in the hallway.  She made sure that the house was secure and told me not to worry, there was really nothing I could do until I got back.
    Yesterday about 1:30 p.m., I arrived home, and it looked pretty bare.  I checked the jewelry chest - everything was there.  I thought I could do a little work on my i-pad but the thieves had screwed up my modem and wiring.
     This morning I went to Best Buy and bought TVs and a monitor.  After dinner tonight with Phyllis Calliss and Maribeth Bachar,  I asked them if they would carry in the TVs for me.  They obliged.  Earlier I had called Linda and Bob Nieukirk to see if they could help me out and about 7:30, Bob, Dennis Doolan and John Bremenkamp came over and the triumvirate put together my TVs, a new TV stand, hooked up the new monitor, and as you can see I am back in the computer business.  How blessed am I to have friends and family to get me through - s-i-l, Gregg, gave me a list of what to look for when I went to replace what I had lost.
      I asked the Bob/Denny/John trio what I could do to repay them.  They suggested I write a letter to their wives reminding them of how wonderful they are.  Although one of them said it might be too late for that!!
      When I received the call from Lora, I was shocked and felt almost violated.  Forty years in the country, half the time not locking our doors and we never had anything stolen.  The police told me that when they were at my house, a neighbor told them that a screen had been removed from a window at their house but the window would not open.    The police supposed someone was casing the neighborhood.
      There was only one thing I was concerned about and it was not taken; the rest is just stuff and it has been replaced.  I'm glad I was not here, those consequences I don't want to think about.  Thank God and my many dear friends.

My sister, Judy and I were talking about good memories. One of which is at during different times, both of us worked as waitresses at the Bingo Games at the Italian American Hall on Louisa Street across from St. Boniface Church. I worked with Joanna Dunne and Elaine Bianchi, my friends from High School. Judy worked there a few years later when Mom was playing this most boring of gambling games.

What Judy remembers most, is the wonderful ladies of The Auxiliary making the best Grilled Cheese ever.

Italian American Grilled Cheese

Thinly slice tomatoes Thinly slice onions

Two slices of bread of choice Lightly spread mustard on one slice Catsup on the other American Cheese slice Slices of tomatoes Slices of onions (cover bread slice with both. Sweet onions are best, purple onions are good) Another slice of cheese(Judy uses pepper jack these days) Top with second slice of bread and butter outside of bread. Put buttered side on cold griddle/pan Butter outside of other slice. Grill until brown of choice

Judy says that most of the women who played Bingo played twenty four to thirty-six cards and if they had to go to the bathroom, they would give her a quarter to watch their cards. She says she got wore out playing their cards but it was a quarter for a pack of cigarettes.