Have you ever been to Christmas City USA? I have. I grew up there. A large banner, right outside the city square, says so. Yes, Rupert has a town square. The city park is in the center. And the Friday after Thanksgiving, Santa rides into the square and turns on the Christmas lights. Then, right there, in the park, there is a cute little house all set up for him. It has a big sign that boldly declares it to be "Santa's House".
As a child, I loved seeing all the beautiful Christmas lights, big red bulbs, green, yellow, blue, all lighting up the dingy streets. It made everything seem so magical. Memories of the Christmas lights are right up there with the wondrous odors you would experience when walking into the "Kings" store. I'm not really sure what the smell was, my husband claims it's popcorn, but I think there's more to it. Maybe it's all the Christmasy things they had out on display. Perhaps my memories are tainted with that since we really only went there during the Christmas season. Searching for a gift for our sibling gift exchange. Or just watching my older sister look at the makeup row.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Construction
The house I grew up in had a carport. Not unlike a garage, a carport is a sheltered place to house your car. Except it is not enclosed.
When I was eight years old, my sister Amber was born. There were now six kids and two parents living in a two bedroom house. The five of us older children were still in the second bedroom and my baby sister in my parents room. But my parents could see it was time to do something.
I remember my Dad breaking up the concrete in the carport. I'm not really sure why. Maybe it was easier than just adding more around it, because the new addition he was building was definitely bigger than the carport was. I remember trying to skate around the concrete chunk. I loved skating. We had about twenty feet of sidewalk and I reveled in skating back and forth on it. The chunks of concrete just made it more interesting.
I remember one Saturday morning, Dad and about a dozen men from our Church, put up the frame of the new portion of our house. It reminded me of a barn raising. But it was so cool. And the smell of the fresh lumber was intoxicating. The new portion of the house was so huge! The original portion of the house was one level. The new section was two stories. There would be a two more bedrooms upstairs, along with a bedroom downstairs, a laundry room and a shower.
That summer was one big adventure, watching Dad work on the house, pounding nail after nail into the lumber. I loved going with Dad to Volco, a local store similar to Home Depot. They would load stacks of lumber into the back of the Chevy Truck, with the red flag attached, warning other drivers that we were hauling extra long cargo.
When I was eight years old, my sister Amber was born. There were now six kids and two parents living in a two bedroom house. The five of us older children were still in the second bedroom and my baby sister in my parents room. But my parents could see it was time to do something.
I remember my Dad breaking up the concrete in the carport. I'm not really sure why. Maybe it was easier than just adding more around it, because the new addition he was building was definitely bigger than the carport was. I remember trying to skate around the concrete chunk. I loved skating. We had about twenty feet of sidewalk and I reveled in skating back and forth on it. The chunks of concrete just made it more interesting.
I remember one Saturday morning, Dad and about a dozen men from our Church, put up the frame of the new portion of our house. It reminded me of a barn raising. But it was so cool. And the smell of the fresh lumber was intoxicating. The new portion of the house was so huge! The original portion of the house was one level. The new section was two stories. There would be a two more bedrooms upstairs, along with a bedroom downstairs, a laundry room and a shower.
That summer was one big adventure, watching Dad work on the house, pounding nail after nail into the lumber. I loved going with Dad to Volco, a local store similar to Home Depot. They would load stacks of lumber into the back of the Chevy Truck, with the red flag attached, warning other drivers that we were hauling extra long cargo.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Recipe for Hot Rolls
Recipe for Hot Rolls:
2 T. yeast dissolved in 1/2 warm water
2 C. scalded milk (or 1 C. canned milk + 1 C. very hot water)
1/4 C. butter
1/2 C. sugar
2 beaten eggs
Beat in 4 cups flour then stir in 2-4 cups more. Dough will be slightly soft.
Bake at 425 for about 10 minutes.
2 T. yeast dissolved in 1/2 warm water
2 C. scalded milk (or 1 C. canned milk + 1 C. very hot water)
1/4 C. butter
1/2 C. sugar
2 beaten eggs
Beat in 4 cups flour then stir in 2-4 cups more. Dough will be slightly soft.
Bake at 425 for about 10 minutes.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
My Home in Rupert
I was born in Rupert. No. That's a lie. I was born in Burley. At the hospital there. But, when my parents brought me home from the hospital, it was to a house in Rupert.
The name of the street I grew up on was 100 West. When I was older and some of my school friends and I shared the names of streets we lived on, I learned that most streets had real names. Like Linden. Or Maple. I felt cheated.
Our house began it's long life as a one room claim shanty. But I can't remember what year it was built. Over the years, more rooms were added.
Our house consisted of two bedrooms, a small bathroom, a living room, a pantry, or as we called it the 'fruit closet' (due to all the canned fruits and veggies we stored there), a kitchen, and a carport. A carport differs from a garage by the fact that a garage is enclosed. A carport is not.
By the time I was five I had three sisters and a brother. My parents shared one of our two bedrooms and the other tiny bedroom -- it was shared by myself and my four siblings.
Now, my dad's a genius when it came to situating all of us kids in the same room. He built two sets of bunkbeds. My older sister and I each got a top bunk. My younger brother slept on one of the lower bunks and my two youngest sisters shared the other lower bunk. Occasionally Dad would pull in an old army cot and one of the younger kids would sleep on that.
The name of the street I grew up on was 100 West. When I was older and some of my school friends and I shared the names of streets we lived on, I learned that most streets had real names. Like Linden. Or Maple. I felt cheated.
Our house began it's long life as a one room claim shanty. But I can't remember what year it was built. Over the years, more rooms were added.
Our house consisted of two bedrooms, a small bathroom, a living room, a pantry, or as we called it the 'fruit closet' (due to all the canned fruits and veggies we stored there), a kitchen, and a carport. A carport differs from a garage by the fact that a garage is enclosed. A carport is not.
By the time I was five I had three sisters and a brother. My parents shared one of our two bedrooms and the other tiny bedroom -- it was shared by myself and my four siblings.
Now, my dad's a genius when it came to situating all of us kids in the same room. He built two sets of bunkbeds. My older sister and I each got a top bunk. My younger brother slept on one of the lower bunks and my two youngest sisters shared the other lower bunk. Occasionally Dad would pull in an old army cot and one of the younger kids would sleep on that.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Where the $%%$! is Rupert?
There was a prince by the name of Rupert. I don't know if that has anything to do with the name of the town, but I've always thought it was an interesting premise.
Rupert is a small town in Southern Idaho. If you're driving from Boise to Salt Lake City, you will pass through Rupert. But chances are you won't notice. Jerome, an even smaller town about 45 minutes northwest of Rupert, you would notice. The stench from the dairy farms (cow poop) is enough to wake up even the tiredest driver.
But Rupert, unless you have a reason to notice it, you won't. There's not even an official Rupert exit. You can get off the interstate in Burley, Heyburn, or Declo. But not Rupert.
Rupert is a small town in Southern Idaho. If you're driving from Boise to Salt Lake City, you will pass through Rupert. But chances are you won't notice. Jerome, an even smaller town about 45 minutes northwest of Rupert, you would notice. The stench from the dairy farms (cow poop) is enough to wake up even the tiredest driver.
But Rupert, unless you have a reason to notice it, you won't. There's not even an official Rupert exit. You can get off the interstate in Burley, Heyburn, or Declo. But not Rupert.
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