May 1, 2008
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A barn and birches from our drive to Cedar.
I feel like I’ve lost my picture mojo lately…
If someone finds it will you send it back.
Thank you.
We also stopped at Pleva’s for some cherry brats and home made hot dogs.
Plevas has been in Cedar forever.
When I was little my Pop would always say…
Be careful… if your naughty we’ll have to send you to Cedar and they’ll grind you up into polish sausage…
I remember my Gram taking us there when we were little, my sister, six or seven at the time, asked Mister Pleva where they ground all the naughty kids up.
Gram almost fell over from laughing.
My sister and I got a tour behind the counter.
When you were naughty as a child what were YOU threatened with?
Comments (53)
Super Cricket was always going to get me… and to this day I HATE crickets! Irrational I know… but still! LOL
god’s wrath and the eternal fires of hell!
jk
Really giving me something to cry about… what ever that even meant.
Birches are the best! We were threatened with “if you don’t settle down, the witch in the gingerbread house is gonna cut up your buns and eat them for supper.” but of course i didn’t need to worry, being the angelic child i was ^.-
I was a perfect child.
Oooo, I can’t remember now….something to do with a man who had a very long nose who featured on the cover of a music album…ha…
…how weird is that……
Being put in the little room under the stairs. HAHAHAHA
There is a Pleva here where I live who was originally from Cedar. My daughter was friends with his daughters in HS.
The whole washing my mouth out with soap thing… yeah, I guess you know how I was naughty now, huh? LOL!
I love the birch trees; I think they are one of my favorite trees, especially in the fall and winter.
My life.
That barn could be in Vermont – lovely photo . . . S
that I would get my hide tanned. I wasn’t sure why that was a bad thing….
I love the barn. I haven’t found your mojo, but my camera is on the fritz and that sure screws up MY mojo
Mornin Glory……Did you use one of those filters or is the sky that blue up there? We were never threatened…..but we got what ever Momma could put her hands on…..flip flops…bolo paddles….privet switches..fly swatters… I haven’t seen your MoJo either….it’s been so long since I’ve seen mine I’m not sure what it looks like anymore…:( ilym
The proverbial “when your father gets home!!”- That’s a very nice shot of the barn,I think your mojo’s closer than you think!
@curlytopchick1973 - That room is still there. HAHAHAHA
This was mostly told to me whenever I was crying, but I was told ” You better dry it up!” Then there was the dreaded wooden spoon for in-house punishments and the yard stick for when we travled in the van and the spoon was too short to reach my brother and I. Other than that, just soap and that was reserved for when we really did something bad! I am happy to say that I never really got into too much trouble though.
hmmm….I wonder what polish people sausage tastes like??
On time when I was naughty my mom spanked me bare butt with a yard stick. It broke over my butt and I went from crying to laughing. It was funny. When we really really messed up we would see dads belt. That was like murder. Luckily my ass has survived all the abuse!!!!
We always got the wooden spoon from Mama. Goodness if Dad pulled the car over I can promise you that we did not sit down easy for a few days!
I love that barn picture, I think your mojo must be hanging around there. Keep trying and he will show up again!!!
@mlbncsga - No filter, the sky has really been that blue… it isn’t always… of course, your computer moniter may be adjusted differently then mine… hmmm…
@the_best_stuff - My sister got spankings MUCH longer then I did… She arted when my Pop was going to spank her once, Pop was laughing so hard he couldn’t do it. lol
I am sure your honey is happy you ass survived too! lol
A sermon on how the disobedient children in Old Testament times were stoned, literally stoned to death. Then we got the belt or wooden spoon. If I ever have children, I plan to do much differently.
You just posted that lovely picture of the big tree with the leaves and branches, you’re mojo isn’t gone. It may be napping, but it’s not gone. I refuse to believe you’ve lost it.
When I was a little bad, my dad would say he was going to trade me for a beagle to the gypsies (who, oddly, we never saw). When I was big bad, I was threatened with a change of residence from my comfortable, middle-class, suburban home to the Indiana School for Girls (we drove by it frequently, as it was only about 20 minutes away).
My neighbor, Mr. Stanley would always threaten the kids saying he would CHOP off their heads with his hedge trimmers. And let me tell you, watching him trim his hedges, I believed he could accomplished it with one swift CHOP!
We got in trouble for fighting (there were four of us). Mama made us line up, hug, AND kiss each other. That was THE worst. Your mojo is not lost – maybe taking a break (well deserved in your case) and will pop out any moment now. Peace
can’t think of anything funny
when my mom disapproved of something I did or said, she’d stop talking to me. For days. Just the 2 of us in a house in the deep woods. Hallelujah.
I miss my grandma though. She used to take me to the butcher’s shop at the market, and we’d get to taste sausages, hams, cheeses…
We’d get spankings in our house. Or if we didn’t pick up our things, my dad would have “inspections” and throw away anything that wasn’t put away. Sadly, neither of those work on my kids
there was this restaraunt in Evanston (well it’s still there just in a different spot) called Dave’s Italian Kitchen… and in one of the dinning rooms they had these tapestries hanging from the ceiling looped down… like an upsidown caterpiller… and my dad use to tell us that the bad kids had to hang up in those loops… if they were too loud or what not… (but if you were good, you got to pick out your own chocolate mouse from the kitchen…) needless to say I was always good going out to eat!!!
the only other thing that my mom use to say was that she was going to sell me to the gypsies for a nickel… and that use to really piss me off cuz wasn’t I worth more than 5 cents…
Honestly my worst threat as a kid was that if I wasn’t good I’d not go to heaven and they made sure I knew about hell. That used to put barrels in my tummy at night sometimes when I lay there and couldn’t sleep. Not that I was a ‘bad girl’ but I knew I wasn’t ‘good’. I didn’t know about being saved by grace. But I did have good parents and I love them alot!! They did me a lot of good. Anyhow that was really cute, your sis asking that question!
Nice pic of the barn.
Mmmmm sausage.
My dad used to threaten to put me in an orphanage where they don’t feed little girls. He was a real jerk when I was small.
threatened with? I got a smack and never saw it coming.
Could you please not tell people the farting story. Seriously. At least I didn’t have a latch hook up my nose.
It ws Uncle Tom that said that and we went with Aunt Ethel to Plevas. For GOD SAKE!
Hi, Ang! Mmmmm, homemade sausages. Fantastic, I’m able to post on your site
@Random1974 - It was also Pop and Mom… Uncle Tom used to sing… Danni J– ain’t no good chop her up for kindlin wood…
And it was grandma that took us that time… I have two years on you… I remember this. I also remember Aunt Ethel taking us… Maybe you did it both times… oh Miss Smartie Pants.
SO… you want me to delete it?
@hilaw - YEA! Glad its fixed.
Mom would threaten to sell us to the Gypsies!
http://www.xanga.com/Aloysius_son/639358992/my-long-lost-sister.html
I was never naughty. I don’t remember ever being threatened.
My greatest threat was always thrown at me from my older sister… ” I’ll tell Mom!”
I did live in mortal fear of tornadoes (thanks to Wizard of Oz) and that my parents would get a divorce. Neither happened.
It alternated, prison, hell, prison, hell or off to prison and then hell.
I see you have no leaves yet either. Cold cold spring.
@dingdongdingbat - HA! I say HA!
your pop was pretty funny… our parents just threatened us most with a whoopin.
dan
We didn’t really have too much of a fear tactic about anything, and nobody scared us like that. We had a pretty decent childhood of carefree life. And certainly nobody scared the shit out of us by saying that our heads would be ground up in a machine or some such thing. Oooh! how traumatic for you or any child.
LMAO…nice story, sweets.
I got threatened to be taking away by Sinterklaas’ helpers. He is the equivalent of your Santa
Love the pictures, as usual!
*hugs*
@ZSA_MD - ROFL! Oh no! really it was VERY obvious that they were teasing. lol I had a very nice and carefree childhood too… The other thing Pop did do was when we had a boo boo… he would always say here let me see it… We can just cut it off and it’ll be all good… that one we were always a little more leary of.
ryc: Thanks, girl!!
I only wish we had blue sky like that here, in my city!
@ElevenStones - Hey, it’s true, I think….at my age why would I even try to remember?
When I was little, my mom told me that a tree would grow out of my stomach so I better behave or it’ll sprout just like that. I could still remember how horrible I felt at night after I did something wrong, imagining myself with a tree suddenly sprouting out of my eyes, my nose, yada yada yada.
My, if my parents told me that if I’m being bad and I’ll be grinded to be turned into a food on a *name of resto/fastfood chain*, I’d seriously stop eating there. Imagine all the body parts people have eaten if it were real… *shudders*
I was a perfect child, and never got threated with bad stuff.
I behaved because I never wanted to see the look of disappointment on my parents or grandparents face.
My father used to hang me up by my arms on the limb of the big casuarina tree (on which lived gigantic army ants) and smothered honey all over my legs for the ants to come and bite me. And if I made any noises, he would wallop me with a cane.
Yes, I’m kidding… about the tree and the honey and the ants.
I love the barn and birches!
if i find the mojo, i may just keep it for myself
birches along the side of this old barn remind me of my childhood days at my grandfathers farm. So melancholy yet dangerously mysterious. the barn makes you wonder what stories the old shanty has to tell and which of those tales will be told.
odd, yes. I know. but my mind is one tracked.
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