We had those in England.... Green Shield Stamps they were called. I have a sad memory of disparaging a carriage clock my mother acquired with them when I was a heartless teenager. After she died it was one of the items I saved.
What a tender thought. I know that one... Thank you so much for telling me about it. I was just thinking of you last night, wondering where you'd wandered off to... :)
Thank you..... vacation and then entrenched in complicated mechanics of moving to NY. My brain's been too scattered to focus on a blog post but there's one emerging out of the fog. Meanwhile I've enjoyed catching up on your poems and reflections very much, especially this one. Beautiful. Of course it leaves one wanting to know more :)
It sounds like you've been very busy ... so glad you came by to read and am grateful for your comments.Those early years were rough, the marriage lasted ten years ... it may yield more poems ... :)
S & H... now, that was an era!
Yes, it was ... what simple little things we did to get through life.
S & H Green Stamps. My mother collected those and cigarette coupons (the latter being her ultimate undoing). I'm thinking it was pretty sweet of your mother to part with the coupon books so you could outfit your new life. Oh, and old marriages and relationships, we've all had them and they can yield some very painful and funny stories! Loved this post!
Yes, it was sweet of her. she was a very giving person and more than one bag of groceries was brought to my house just when I needed it most... :)I'm so glad you can relate... :) Thanks, Bill!
There are many such sad tales to tell; I too have one which I cannot bring myself to relate. Perhaps I should try poetry. Poetry would somehow make it less real, because there was nothing poetic about the tale.Yours is very real, nevertheless.
It's not easy, talking about painful parts of our lives, but poetry does allow for a bit more revelation. Thank you for reading and commenting, Friko. It's nice to see you.
Such a tender coupling of poetry and visual, Teresa, and a generous gift from your mother. I remember how long it could take to fill those S & H Green Stamps books. I'm sorry, though, for the misery.A huge S & H merchandise warehouse was fairly close to our house and could be seen off of a major expressway. We'd tell out-of-towners that it was where they made the stamps and glue. Amazing how many people believed it. We kids thought we were pretty cute. Now I know we weren't. Then, there was my Aunt Babe, who was mugged on an el platform in Chicago. She put up a really good fight with the mugger, who got her change purse, but, not her S&H stamps. Oh, my; your poem here sure pulled some thoughts out of me, Teresa.
Thank you, Penny. My mother was generous and loved being able to save wherever possible. I love your Aunt Babe story. :)
My job was pasting all of those stamps into the books.
Oh, I wish I had an image of that firmly pressed in my mind... I'm sure you did your job well... :)
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