Holly Hobbie Flashbacks

I found this little vintage Holly Hobbie plaque during one of my thrift store jaunts and hung it on the wall right in my line of sight at work.  It says “The time to be happy is now”.   I have fond memories of Holly Hobbie. Happy, warm fuzzy thoughts flood me whenever I see her at a thrift store or on Etsy.  She feels like an old friend who knows the real me of my childhood {the messy, sad, emotional me; the mean, catty, hurtful me; the quiet, troubled, mortified me; the happy, creative, content me.  The me that spent weekend upon weekend cuddling under a Holly Hobbie quilt that my mom {or maybe an aunt} made for me when I was a baby.  I saw the fabric recently…it took me back.

 When I was growing up I had two families….a child of divorce like so many others.  When I was little I lived primarily with my Dad, step-mom {Mom^2}, and older sister {and later, foster kids and their adopted kids}.  I spent weekends and school vacations with my mom {another hero of mine}.  Until I was 13 I was my mom’s only kiddo and the fact that we only spent weekends together made the time we spent mostly fun.  Mom didn’t have to be the heavy because weekend time was fun time: roller skating, beaching, playing, watching movies, playing video games, visiting family.  She didn't get to experience the crabby kid who didn’t want to do her homework and eat her vegetables, who acted like a jackass when she didn’t get her way.  Mom got weekends filled with fun me - and although we both look back and wish we would have had more time…the time we had was pretty much {fun party} mom and me time. 

As a chubby kid with few friends I realized the fake friends were the best because they couldn't call you four eyes and thunder thighs {yes it rhymes…pair that with the last name Gross and you've got the makings of good strong old school verbal bullying}.  Holly would never say things to hurt me or make fun of me because I would rather hole up and read a book than explore the neighborhood for real kids.  Holly Hobbie was the bomb.  She wasn't skinny, perfect or trendy.  She didn’t wear Guess Jeans, Tretorn sneakers and Benetton polo shirts.  She didn't make fun of me for having ugly corduroy pants pink and grey saddle shoes {God, I loved those shoes}.  I didn't care about those things and mostly still don’t {although I might find it gratifying to squeeze my butt fanny backside Gammon ass* into a pair of acid washed Guess Jeans- ooh! maybe I should make that a goal}.  And most of all you rarely saw her face…that {not so swanky} prairie bonnet hid it all.  All the hurt, all the sadness, all the hunger was hidden from the world. She played in the fields, on the beach – with her many cats and kind friends.  

I loved her so {still do really...}.  My prairie bonnet was not literal….it was of a culinary nature.  Hurt, hide it with ice cream.  Sad, hide it with candy.  Angry, hide it with donuts…cookies…potato chips… french fries…

I don’t blame anyone in my childhood life for all the anger and sadness.  Shit happens.  It does.  I had LOTS AND LOTS of happy, happy things.  Things that I did with each of my separate families making lifelong memories: midnight trips to Rapid Ray’s for a burger, fries and chocolate milk, heading to Brunswick for family visits and playing on Papa’s big rock with Stacy, lobster bakes, Halloween as Wonder Woman (4 years in a row) swimming, taking Bobo for a Sunday run in the cemetery, crafting with Mom, Mom², and Grammie Alma, video games and movies with Aunt Jeannie, Popham and Small Point with Mom and later Ashley {Lil' Ditdor}, jumping on Tammy {Little Big Sis} to wake her up, tickle torture, Wormwood's with dad, Home Interior assistant job with Mom², Florida vacations, Gammon Girls bathroom gatherings - just to name a few bunch.

The first step to embracing NOW {the time to be happy} is realizing that calories can’t fix emotions.  OK – got it…..onto the next step.

* the Gammon Ass - if you have one you know what it is....if you don't you wish you did.