Coin-Operated Machines

G is for Grandparents #TuesdayTidbit #Life’sAlphabet #Poetry

Thanks to BeetleyPete for inspiring this feature with a similar one of his own, in which he wrote about his life, using words starting with consecutive letters of the alphabet. He posted this series on his blog last December. My letter this week is G.

I have many fond memories of my grandparents. But one stands out in my mind, and I wrote a poem about it.

In the summer of 1971, Dad and I drove from Tucson, Arizona, to Sheridan, Wyoming, to visit my paternal grandmother. My paternal grandfather had recently passed, and Grandma needed someone to help with the family’s coin-operated machine business for a while. My family moved to Sheridan in 1973, so Dad could run the business full-time, and I’ve lived here ever since, but I digress.

On our trip, we stopped in Denver, Colorado, where I spent time with my maternal grandparents while Dad went ahead to Sheridan. Grammy and Granddad Hinkley loved to play cribbage every morning after breakfast, as you’ll figure out when you read the following poem, published on a blog called Recovering the Self in June of 2021. You can click on the title to hear me read it.

Cribbage, 1971

by Abbie Johnson Taylor

“Nine in a crib, oh boy,”

Grammy says, gazing at her hand.

“You wouldn’t know a crib from a rattlesnake,” Granddad quips.

“Now sir, I’ve raised three children.

I should know what a crib is.”

In the summer morning heat,

they sit at their kitchen table,

deal, shuffle, count, peg.

My ten-year-old brain doesn’t understand the game,

but, mesmerized, I watch, fascinated,

as they play, banter, play some more.

Years have passed

since those Colorado summer mornings.

Grammy and Granddad are both gone.

They smile down on my family and me

from their cribbage table in the sky.

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How about you? Do you have fond memories of your grandparents? Please feel free to share them in the comment field below.

Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

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New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

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Two Pentacles Publishing.

Sixteen-year-old Natalie’s grandmother, suffering from dementia and confined to a wheelchair, lives in a nursing home and rarely recognizes Natalie. But one Halloween night, she tells her a shocking secret that only she and Natalie’s mother know. Natalie is the product of a one-night stand between her mother, who is a college English teacher, and another professor.

After some research, Natalie learns that people with dementia often have vivid memories of past events. Still not wanting to believe what her grandmother has told her, she finds her biological father online. The resemblance between them is undeniable. Not knowing what else to do, she shows his photo and website to her parents.

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

Her younger sister, Sarah, senses their parents’ marital difficulties. At Thanksgiving, when she has an opportunity to see Santa Claus, she asks him to bring them together again. Can the jolly old elf grant her request?

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The Quarter’s Decreasing Value #It’sSix-SentenceStoryThursdayLinkUp

For years, my father owned a coin-operated machine business. In the 1970’s, during my tween and teen years, I loved hanging out in the shop, where a quarter allowed me to hear three songs on a jukebox or play one game on a pinball machine. In the summer of 1984, when my family drove to California to attend my uncle’s wedding, we stopped in Nevada, where the slot machine cost a quarter per game. I used to be able to buy a can of pop for two quarters. Before I had my own washer and dryer, I spent six to eight quarters for laundry each week. Now, the quarter doesn’t go far anymore.

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How about you? What did you spend quarters on in your lifetime? Please feel free to share your memories in the comment field.

Thanks to Girlie on the Edge for inspiring the above vignette with her six-sentence prompt for this week. If you’d like to participate, click here.

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By the way, for those of you who use the National Library Service for the Blind and Print Disabled, The Red Dress is available for download from their site here. No matter how you read it, please be sure to review it wherever you can. That goes for all my books. Thank you for stopping by. Stay safe, happy, and healthy.

New! The Red Dress

When Eve went to her high school senior prom, she wore a red dress that her mother had made for her. That night, after dancing with the boy of her dreams, she caught him in the act with her best friend. Months later, Eve, a freshman in college, is bullied into giving the dress to her roommate. After her mother finds out, their relationship is never the same again.

Twenty-five years later, Eve, a bestselling author, is happily married with three children. Although her mother suffers from dementia, she still remembers, and Eve still harbors the guilt for giving the dress away. When she receives a Facebook friend request from her old college roommate and an invitation to her twenty-five-year high school class reunion, then meets her former best friend by chance, she must confront the past in order to face the future.

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A Road Trip to Remember #Open Book Blog Hop

Please be sure to read to the end of this post to find out about a live interview in which I’ll be participating tomorrow. If you miss the program, don’t despair. It’ll be recorded, and I’ll share it here and on Facebook as soon as it’s available.

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Stevie Turner’s Open Book Blog Hop question for this week is this. “You’re going on a road trip: where are you headed? With whom? What are your snacks? Music? Plans?”

Since today is St. Patrick’s Day, I’d love to tell you about a road trip through Ireland, but I’ve never been there. However, I remember many road trips I took with my family through the United States when I was growing up.

My most memorable journey was one I took with my father in 1971 when I was ten. We were living in Tucson, Arizona, at the time. My paternal grandfather here in Sheridan, Wyoming, had just passed away, and Grandma needed help with the family’s coin-operated machine business. That summer, Dad volunteered to drive up to Sheridan and give her a hand for a while.

Originally, he was planning to go alone, but at the last minute, he asked me if I wanted to accompany him, and, always ready for a new adventure, I said yes. We left one warm evening in our old Mercedes Benz. After driving for a few hours, we finally stopped at a campsite where Dad unrolled a sleeping bag on the ground next to the car, and I stretched out in the back seat.

The next day, still in Arizona, we drove through the Navajo reservation and stopped at a trading post, where we saw Indian beadwork and other items. Being visually impaired and only ten years old, I couldn’t appreciate such things, but I enjoyed sitting on the porch, drinking Coke, and watching people come and go.

We then drove into Colorado and spent that night in Durango. Below is a poem I wrote about that night, which appears in my collection, How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver. you can click on the Play button below the poem to hear me read it.

A Memorable Stop in Colorado

by Abbie Johnson Taylor

In the summer of 1971 at the age of ten,
I traveled with Dad from our home in Tucson, Arizona,
to Sheridan, Wyoming, to visit Grandma.
While bar hopping in Durango,
I had Coke–Dad drank something stronger.
One establishment served hot dogs.
I liked them plain with not even a bun.
I must have had at least three.
Intoxicated, we made our way to the car.
I slept on the back seat
while Dad slept on the ground nearby.
Who knows where we were when we woke up?

The next day, we drove to Mesa Verde, where we toured a cave, crawling through parts of it on hands and knees, which I found exciting. We spent that night with friends in Beulah. Despite my limited vision, I loved stairs, and this house had them on the outside. So, to get from one level to another, you had to go outdoors and up the stairs, then enter the house through another door. If I remember correctly, there were three levels. I also enjoyed playing with other kids in a nearby creek.

The next afternoon, we drove to Denver, where we spent some time with my maternal grandparents before traveling the rest of the way to Wyoming. In Sheridan, I loved to play the jukebox and pinball and bowling games in my paternal grandmother’s garage, which had been converted into the coin-operated machine business’s shop. I met a couple of girls close to my age, who lived down the street, and we spent a lot of time listening to music in the shop. I got to go swimming, and we spent one day in the mountains where we observed a log rolling competition, which was interesting, although I couldn’t see a lot of the action. We also attended a rodeo parade and local band concerts in the park, which I also enjoyed.

In August, when it was time for me to start school, Dad needed to stay in Sheridan a little longer. So, he drove me to Denver, and I flew alone back to Tucson, which was also exciting. Dad returned home a month later. In the summer of 1973, my family moved to Sheridan permanently, and Dad ran the coin-operated machine business for the next twenty years until it was sold.

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What about your most memorable road trip? You can either tell me about it in the comment field below or click here to participate in Stevie Turner’s blog hop.

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Thursday March 18, 2021, Tell It to the World – Chat with Author Abbie Johnson Taylor: 7:30pm ET, 4:30pm PT, 1.30pm HT

In this month’s call, guest author Abbie Johnson Taylor talks with us about her writing life and more. In a brief interview, led by Patty Fletcher, Abbie will give a presentation and then take questions from the audience.

Abbie Johnson Taylor is the author of two novels, two poetry collections, and a memoir and is working on a third novel. Her work has appeared in The Writer’s Grapevine, Magnets and Ladders, The Weekly Avocet, and other publications. She’s visually impaired and lives in Sheridan, Wyoming, where she cared for her totally blind, partially paralyzed late husband, worked as a registered music therapist with nursing home residents, and helped other blind and visually impaired individuals. When not writing, she participates in a water exercise class, sings in a women’s group, and enjoys walking, reading, and listening to podcasts.

Website: http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com

To join us and subscribe to our email list to receive the daily schedule, which will include Abbie’s call-in info, send a blank email to: Acb-community-events+subscribe@acblists.org

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New! The Red Dress

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