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A Walk Down Memory Lane (fun post)
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<blockquote data-quote="ThreeShadows" data-source="post: 244149" data-attributes="member: 6370"><p>Boy, do I feel like a foreigner! My sanitary napkins were made of cloth. I had to wash them by hand and hang them to dry!</p><p></p><p>We had no vacuums, every Wednesday the Parisian housewives and cleaning ladies would open the windows, no matter the cold, drape the orientals over the wrought iron balconies and wallop the carp out of them with rattan beaters. When we went to visit friends the moms had us skate around the fancy waxed floors using felt cut in the shape of the sole of a foot because we kids were not the center of the Universe and only the adults had the right to scuff up the floors.</p><p></p><p>I remember my mother always warning me not to speak English in the streets, the French hated the US (because we liberated them). If we were found out Mom would be charged double for every purchase. I remember the butcher shops with sawdust on the floor to catch the blood, the delivery men dressed all in white, carrying the carcasses with metal hooks, their backs all covered in blood. We shopped for food twice a day, everyone did. My Grand-Maman in the South of France had an ice box, the ice man home delivered the blocks of the precious cold stuff. Fridays the fish man delivered his catch and you bought what ever was available.</p><p></p><p>No TV, just a radio, and if I was very, very lucky I could get Radio Free Europe and hear my precious mother tongue. I was so desperate to figure out what it meant to be an American.</p><p></p><p>Every Sunday Mass, my mother would cry because she missed her family. I remember having to invent sins for confession because mom always kept an eagle eye on me and I never got a chance to sin. But of course, the lying about having sinned was a sin in itself!</p><p></p><p>I sure wish I could share these memories with someone who has been there done that. It's so lonesome feeling like an alien.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ThreeShadows, post: 244149, member: 6370"] Boy, do I feel like a foreigner! My sanitary napkins were made of cloth. I had to wash them by hand and hang them to dry! We had no vacuums, every Wednesday the Parisian housewives and cleaning ladies would open the windows, no matter the cold, drape the orientals over the wrought iron balconies and wallop the carp out of them with rattan beaters. When we went to visit friends the moms had us skate around the fancy waxed floors using felt cut in the shape of the sole of a foot because we kids were not the center of the Universe and only the adults had the right to scuff up the floors. I remember my mother always warning me not to speak English in the streets, the French hated the US (because we liberated them). If we were found out Mom would be charged double for every purchase. I remember the butcher shops with sawdust on the floor to catch the blood, the delivery men dressed all in white, carrying the carcasses with metal hooks, their backs all covered in blood. We shopped for food twice a day, everyone did. My Grand-Maman in the South of France had an ice box, the ice man home delivered the blocks of the precious cold stuff. Fridays the fish man delivered his catch and you bought what ever was available. No TV, just a radio, and if I was very, very lucky I could get Radio Free Europe and hear my precious mother tongue. I was so desperate to figure out what it meant to be an American. Every Sunday Mass, my mother would cry because she missed her family. I remember having to invent sins for confession because mom always kept an eagle eye on me and I never got a chance to sin. But of course, the lying about having sinned was a sin in itself! I sure wish I could share these memories with someone who has been there done that. It's so lonesome feeling like an alien. [/QUOTE]
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