Traditionally this was the date.
The day, Labor Day, was the day that we had to be back home form our summer trip.
Growing up in my family we traveled extensively every summer. Growing up in the Bay Area my parents longed to reconnect and to help with grandma Nellie's and grandpa Bayard's peach farm. My parents also discovered that the world out there was less expensive to live in than summer in the city.
We camped as we traveled. I grumbled but enjoyed the sights. There were always new people to meet as we traveled. We enjoyed the campfire nights in the national parks and the fireside chats at the state parks. When we are stopped at a KOA or some obscure park we camped and set up a family sing a long that invited others with kids to come by and join in. We traveled with guitars and sometimes dad would pull out his harmonica. In the early days I had to practice my trumpet and a certain amount of embarrasment went along with that as at least on hour of practice was required.
Dad imposed the no write no eat law on me early on. I had to produce a page of writing before I could eat dinner in the evening. I was responsible for cleaning and folding the tent to just the right shape so that it would fit directly into the Ford Falcon in just the right place. It had to be that small so that the camping stove and the fuel and the legs to the camping stove would fit there also. I am not sure where our clothes went when we were in the Falcon days.
As I grew up my mom was in a terrible accident. We were smashed into from a stop sign on a rainy day going up the hill to our house. The result of this was several weeks in the hospital for her and a new kind of car that we could carry her around lying down in a cot. It was an International Harvester Travel All. Dad had always wanted a truck. This was the ultimate station wagon truck.
It also became our puller for a trailer that mom and dad bought. Dad romanced it all winter down in San Carlos. Finally he bought it. It could only sleep two. The travelal became the bedroom for my sisters and I pitched the old family tent (8 x8 exterior tent poles) wherever we went.
Tonight would be the night that we had to be home. Mom would be washing the white shirts furiously and dad would be looking over what he needed to do. All white shirts has to be pressed and of course they had to have a hankie to go in the pocket.
The first month of school is always tough on school families. There are enormous things to adjust to. Schedules, new teachers for the kids and lunch boxes. Teachers kids generally don't get new clothes until October.. the first real payday.
Times have changed. Our first day with students was quite awhile ago. August17. Teacher were paid the end of August. And white shirts are no longer the required dress at our school. We are lucky to get the teachers in long pants and polo shirts.
Love to all
Pat
Because we had to live all September without pay, we lived off what was in the pantry. I remember once Mom made a dinner of stale bread soaked in milk with stewed tomatoes and a little sugar. It was awful.
ReplyDeleteAs a young teacher, I can remember looking around the teacher table at lunch in September and counting the people who were eating tomato sandwiches... teachers who thought ahead planted tomatoes in April to eat in September.