Saturday, May 23, 2009

Edith

Birthdate: November 9, 1917

Edith Carlquist Reed

(when do you remember the earliest?) When I was 12, my family moved from our home in Salt Lake City to the farm in Draper. My father was in real estate, he owned a number of farms, this one my mother chose because she knew they could always grow their own food. Her father had coined the title “Draper” because so many people raised chickens and sold eggs to the Draper poultry. He called Draper “egg basket of Utah”. The old farmhouse was built of Dobe brick with thick was but no central heating, no hot water, and coal stove in kitchen. There was a heatrola in the dining room for warmth. The home had 5 bedrooms, and one bathroom. (How many people in family) At the time we moved there, my sister Natalie had graduated high school and went to California because she thought there would be better opportunities for work. With my siblings and parents, 9 of us lived in the home. East of the kitchen, there was a place for other people who needed a home to sleep. Across the street was a clear crick that came down from Bell Canyon, cold water. We prepared a safe area to hold the bottles of milk because we had no refrigerator when we moved to the Draper farmhouse. On the other side of the crick was the railroad. I mention this because many people in those days would ride the rails and be dropped off. My mother always would give them a meal if they asked, not money, but a fresh meal. We raised all the food we ate, the vegetables, fruits, and even the meat. We had no freezers so we had to preserve everything in a “pressure-cooker”. I can remember shelling a bushel of freshly picked peas to put in bottles and then preserve pressure cooker. Which of course would be blasphemy nowadays, but if we wanted peas in the winter that’s what we had to do. Corn could be preserved well, but there was nothing like freshly picked corn. There was a root cellar where the root veggies were stored. We would leave parsnips in the ground and dig them fresh in the winter. No veggies since those years have ever been so fresh and so delicious when they were harvested straight from the garden and put on the table. Green peas in Jersey milk sauce… because it was a chicken farm, we ate the cockrails, Mother was a marvelous cook. From the standpoint of food, we didn’t feel the effects of the depression, but it came from steady hard work. If we didn’t work hard, we had nothing. Peaches were sold for money, but we would catch the fruit that had fallen into the deep grass, and bottle them, the best peaches you could ever find to eat. In the summer time, there was a canal that ran to the north of our home, still on our property, and we would often take a dip in the canal to cool off, one couldn’t call it swimming in a canal, but it was an adventure. School was down the road in central part of the town, we walked to school walked home from school. My mother wondered why my younger sister always wore out her shoes so fast. One lady that lived a block away from the school commented to my mother “I just love to see you little girl come skipping down the road to school” which explained the wear and tear on the shoes. Ours was a good school, no frills, but we did have a band and an orchestra in the school. We used plain white shirts and black pants or skirts for uniforms and a beautiful band was worn across that said “draper”. Our band did such events as a porter Rockwell express station dedication. High school students were bused to Jordan High School, we were picked up at a stop and were dropped off at school, you didn’t get a chance to do a lot of after school curricular activities. Because my mother was always busy with the chickens, the lambs, the garden, she had me make my two younger sisters clothes that they wore to school.

During war years, gas was rationed. The one family car was driven by my father. For piano lesions in the summer, I would go in, in the morning with him and spend the day at my g-parents and take the street car, too bad we don’t have the street cars now :D, to my teacher’s home. In the winter, when I was in high school, I would leave Jordan High School, go to sandy junction, running most of the way, if I missed the bus that was too bad, no other. Take the bus in, transfer to a university line street car, and walk down to 242 Douglas street for a piano lesson. My lessons were paid by eggs or fresh food. (How old) 14, 15, I graduated when 16. And I’d stay overnight in the maids room. Take the first street car out at 6 in the morning, catch the bus, get off at sandy junction, and walk up to the hill to Jordan high school. This is significant because kids don’t do that nowadays, they aren’t allowed to do that, but that’s what I had to do to get a piano lesson.

We may have not had cash, but with barter or what we raised, I never did have a sense that we were poor. We made all our clothes. One blouse, my suit, my best suit from high school was made from my fathers blue suit that had gone shiny, by turning it inside out, I made a skirt and a chanel type jacket. I had a very small amout of a peppermint-stripped silk. I made a sleevelsess front with ruffles, made with a flour sack, but I put a little bit so people see only peppermint this shows you about the depression.

The Christmas I was 15, my principle gift was a length of flanal material to make a robe, that was it. At Christmas, we had a orange at the bottom of the stocking. We didn’t have oranges any other time, that was special. (One thing I wanted to know was how did the depression effect how you deal with money now?) Absolutely, absolutely. I still live by depression standards. Changed everything because I learned how to manange. When I was in the University, I’d keep a nickel in my purse in case I got stuck for car fare to my sisters house. (shakes head) To this day, I do my own work, I was mowin my lawn last night and a neighbor asked “this is arobic exercise and it’s good for me, people don’t like the way I like it, I pull out the dandelions first” yes it effects how I live it effects the way we all live. I have the same furniture in my home that I bought for my mother with my first teaching salary. One is in the parlor, the other in the upstairs sitting room, still the same 2 pieces. For me dep didn’t mean lack of quality, I bout best material knowing it was last for my children. You should have known your great grandmother ethel… she was the best at that. It’s good I learned how to live that way because I married a school teacher, and I lived like the depression all my life on a school teachers salary!

When the war came, it was difficult to see the young people leave home for battle, and Brian Carlquist was the first casualty in draper of Vietnamese war. But in WWII there was this serge of patriotism that carried us through, but it was a time of where, oh, you didn’t expect things to be permanent, you had to wait and see what would happen with relationships. In WWII, I had saved my school teaching salary, I was lucky to get a job, and my annual salary was 500$ for a year of teaching. But out of that I was able to live like a king because I knew how. And I saved money, I went to school in NY city, Columbia University. In NY city, you felt the burden and threat of war because we had blackout training, and if there was even one visible crack, of the window of light, the warden came and told you to fix it. It was a black out, a black ny city. When times of, when they thought there was danger of attack, the whole city went black, you can’t imagine that can you? ( no) When the war ended, I was in Eurica California on a mission for the LDS church when VJ day was announced, everyone in that coastal town celebrated. It was an unbelievable joyful time, to think the war with Japan was done.

(perception of life) I don’t know that my perception of life has changed, because the depression created my perception of life, but in my home, education was our goal, school was of the essence, it was the way of the future. I had a scholarship, I graduated, No sorority in my life. I spent Saturday in the alta area walking to capital building or wall street, teaching lessons 50 cents a lesion. I spent Saturday earning money… 4 $, and those 4$ got me through the week expenses.

(Young) Don’t buy anything on credit. Do a lot of walking, that’s the reason I’m so healthy w and w and w. There are some things you have to buy… a home, we bought a home and didn’t buy furniture till first mortgage. Looking forward to and planning for something is better that anticipation greater than satisfaction. when you have something you think… now what’s, what’s next. I never bought a piece a furniture unless I could pay for cash. I have one credit card, and I only use it when as a matter of convienience for buying things. There was the laughed at slogan, I can’t say it now because it’s not one of mine, but I have 2 “when a job seemed incermountable, I say, you eat an elephant a bit at a time”, and along with that “most of this world’s work, is done by people who don’t feel like it” (I really like that) But there is great joy and satisfaction in personal accomplishment, in doing a task. This isn’t a perfect garden but look what I can do, look at my fingernails, I couldn’t clean them today. It isn’t that I love the work, but I love what the work accomplishes. (You’re such a wise woman) I made these covers for these chairs, they aren’t professional, these furniture, I piano lessons and they built them from trees because he as a carpenter. I often trade what I do for someone else that does something for me. But yes, we are who we are because of our learning experiences, I never said that one day things will be different, I love things not for cost, I love my flowers, I love my trees, I can have my same furniture and have it for ever if I loved it in the beginning, I love old things. On my furnature, I just say, I’m going shabby shick. It made me that way, it was life, I didn’t feel depressed, I felt wonderful. The music was amazing, the movies were amazing, there was this great sense of being who you were, it was your shot, so it was great. I got my masters from colombia not money, goals. I studied at Juliard, I didn't want to be concert, and I just wanted to be the best pianist I could be. I left because I had a stron testimony of the BOM and I had the conviction that I was a convert. There is a time in your life where you have to be a convert Taylor, my prayers were answered in an unmistakable way. That's why I left Juliard with the money I saved, my brother helped me when I ran out. It wasn't that it was cheap, even being a missionary, I was prepared by the way my life was. The depression wasn't a trial to me, I'm sure it was a difficulty. I don't think I'd have accomplished anymore in my life, what do they advise you to do now, walk... walking is good for you, blood pressure, good for emotional, we had to walk and walk and walk and walk, but you have to walk your thinking.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Fallen Angel

Lone Star lucked upon Angel
Strong as angels appear.

Inadequacy consumes
The thoughts of Star's isolated soul.

Angel loves.
Time

She nurtures.
Time

Star begins to unlock her treasures,

And the loving labor grows
To a savory sweet friendship.

Angel shows
A new Star her worth…

And Star begins to shine.

The Devil:
Tempter,
Twister of minds;
Distorter of angel's being

... an inward war consumes her...

But Star,
Blinded by her new light, doesn't see
Till Angel's gone too far for saving.

Fallen Angel;
Tattered, Cold,
Beaten.

Fallen Angel;
Fallen Angel,
My turn to take you

Home.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Invitation (enjoy reading about my life :^} )

Everyone’s soul lies somewhere,
Waiting to be discovered.

Some are never found,
Their fruits never reaped;
They are lost, never to be uncovered.

You are fortunate,
For here,
In this very book
Lies a soul
Waiting for you to understand it.
It is written,
All you have to do is read.
Come; follow the maze of my mind,
Let yourself succumb to my thoughts,
And feel my feelings.

Discover a soul today,
Don’t let the chance slip away.

Poetry


The ghostly galleon
Rising above the
Mountains
In all it's mystery;
Dispersing the last
Gypsy's ribbon of
Color,
Fading the final light of
The bright day to nothing.
It's the scent of
Rain
After a summer storm.
The ground is
Overturned with
The force and
Power.
It's the song of
Caoimhe, the fays’ tune;
The haunting sound
Trickling, flowing over the
Far hills.
It’s a swirling stream,
The silver water
Gliding down your
throat as you
sip, being
deprived for so
long.
This is freedom.
This is simply,

Poetry.

Riding the Waves of Life

Twisting
Swaying
Changing
Intriguing
Deceiving,
I wade into the pool of life.
My hasty walk is disrupted repeatedly.
Crashing
Sweeping
Tsunamis
Tempests,
The storm swiftly scales to its climax
As I press forward.
I glance at the thought of turning back.
Pushing
Tugging
Pulling
Thrashing,
The tide sweeps me to the unknown.
I wish this tossing and turning of fate to end.
Night
Late,
The sun droops below the horizon.
I reach the mystical island;
I succumb to sleep.
Light
Sun
Warmth,
I awake replenished
The past journey’s fury no where to be found.
The isle is so celestial,
It must be the heaven I was searching for.

Through the Rolling Hills (talking about the palm of a hand)

My lifeline is…

A long winding dirt road
Stretching far beyond the line of sight
Twisting and swaying dramatically,
But always moving towards the sunset,
Forever glimmering, shimmering on the horizon.

It takes me away from dark experiences in the past
The hurt is still pushing me on, pressing me forward.
The endless amount of dust is being kicked up by my briskly trotting feet,
Blocking all rear sight, keeping me from turning around.

The wind on my back forcefully leads me forward over rolling hills
Always moving toward the light.
The trudging will continue till I die,
Of thirst or desire, I’ll never know.
The passion to keep moving is fixed in me by some unknown force.
I will eventually meet the cliffs that lie before the ocean
Signifying the end of my journey.
But till then,
I will press on.

Die Flote

It lies there
Open,
A book, waiting to be played
And its stories told.
A mole
Lost in the dirt
Peeks above the surface
To create hollow holes
For which the wind can give sound to his entire life’s
Song of work.

It’s a magnified scrap of material,
The gaps waiting for a redemption needle
To thread and weave to and fro;
Waiting for pudgy human hands to
Pick and Prod at the string
And temporarily fill in the gaping emptiness.

The reflection of light from its internal prism mirrors
Ocean waves;
There nature as mysterious as a masked moon.
As the air sweeps through the metal chamber,
A vibration releases giving you
The solemn sound of satisfaction;

A living artifact of the past.

A flute from our homeland.

Book Corner

  • Harry Potter 7!!!
  • The Hero and the Crown
  • The Blue Sword
  • Harry Potter
  • Seer and the Sword
  • I am Morgan Le Fay
  • I am Mordred
  • Dragon Knight
  • Eragon
  • Artemis Fowl
  • Hatching Magic
  • How Awesome will it be?
  • The Sword of the Rightful King

Movie Madness

  • Pirates of the Carribean 3: at World's End
  • Night at the Museum
  • Eragon
  • Back to the Future
  • Monty Python and the Holy Grail
  • Pirates of the Carribean
  • A Walk to Remember
  • Phantom of the Opera
  • Timeline
  • A Knight's Tale
  • Lady in the Water
  • Lord of the Rings
  • Harry Potter 5