[Critique Group 2] Hello and Here's my March Submission

[Joan Myles]

Got it!
Looking forward to being with you and all my Group Two critique-mates!
jm

On Tue, Mar 21, 2023 at 7:57 AM Dawn Suvino via Group2 <
group2 at bluegrasspals.com> wrote:

> Hi Folks,
>
>
>
> Thanks very much for inviting me to join Critique Group 2! I look forward
> to sharing my work, getting your feedback, and offering my own comments on
> the work that all of you share. Below is my initial submission, which, like
> many of the pieces I write these days, was inspired by a conversation I was
> having with friends on Facebook a few years ago. See what you think:
>
>
>
> Saturday, July 22, 2017
>
> New York 6:53 AM
>
>
>
> Sometime in 1966, when my brother Stephan was about 2 and I was 4, we
> moved in with my mother’s mother, my Nanny, and her brother, Uncle Stefie.
> The house was small but comfortable, located at 80 Manning Avenue in North
> Plainfield, NJ. It was a temporary arrangement as my parents were then
> looking to buy a house in one of the many agreeable towns situated in
> Somerset County, NJ.
>
>
>
> Of primary import to my mom was the quality of the school system. My dad,
> for his part, was also concerned about property taxes. Together, they made
> a good couple… well, at that time, anyway. Why they did not choose to
> settle in North Plainfield is a mystery to me except that I think my
> mother, in her way, was a bit of a social climber. Put differently, I think
> she wanted to build a better life for her kids by moving to a somewhat more
> affluent town.  They eventually found a beautiful ranch house on a corner
> lot in Watchung, NJ. This town was just up the road from North Plainfield
> but it was slightly tonier and, in the late sixties, very much on the rise.
> The schools were very progressive and the property taxes low thanks to some
> commercial properties located at the far end of town. We lived there from
> 1968 until 1975, when my parents were divorced. So, the irony is that we
> ended-up back in North Plainfield at Uncle Stefie’s house on Manning
> Avenue. The even bigger irony is that I liked living in North Plainfield
> more than Watchung, despite the logistical hardships of our having to cram
> into the tiny house on Manning Ave. It hadn’t been so difficult when we
> were little kids but, as teenagers, the challenges were significant.
>
>
>
> I’m pretty sure the schools in North Plainfield were better than those in
> Watchung – well, the high school certainly was. I am proud of the education
> I received at NPHS. I’m grateful, too, all these years later, to have
> reconnected with so many high school friends here on Facebook.
>
>
>
> Yesterday, when some of us were talking about the moonwalk, I started
> remembering those early days in North Plainfield, when Nanny and I shared a
> bedroom – shared a single bed actually. I loved my Nanny and it felt
> special to be so close with her. Every morning, she would get up around 6
> AM, wash-up and then toddle into the kitchen to make breakfast. As small as
> that house was, the kitchen was huge – the biggest room in the house. This
> still seems entirely appropriate to me.
>
>
>
> I would sit with Nanny at the kitchen table while she read the paper,
> drank her tea and ate a bagel. Usually I ate cereal. Later, I might have
> scrambled eggs when my mom came downstairs to fix Daddy’s breakfast. My dad
> worked in an office but Nanny had to be up and out early to get to the
> factory where she worked. Luckily, it was just down the block, so she could
> walk there in a matter of minutes. This also meant that I could stop by
> after school and give her a hug and a kiss before going home. This was back
> in the day when children were permitted to walk freely and independently
> around their neighborhoods.
>
>
>
> I should clarify that the “factory” where Nanny worked was a small
> business where she and two or three other women spent the day making
> confections that would be mounted atop special cakes: roses, a bride and
> groom, Easter bunny, congratulatory message for an anniversary or
> graduation. While the workplace is best described as a “factory”, it was
> really a family—owned, friendly manufacturing business overtop a storefront
> on Watchung Avenue.
>
>
>
> Sitting at the kitchen table before Nanny left for work, we’d play games,
> sing songs and practice reading. Yep, she taught me to read the newspaper
> when I was just four years old. One of my favorite games was the “matching
> game”, which was a kind of predecessor to Sesame streets “one of these
> things is not like the other”. Our potholders were embroidered with images
> of kitchen items like cast iron pans, ladles, serving spoons, etc. Nanny
> would select one of the items and then ask me to identify the matching
> images. Simple, I know, but it surely stimulated my little brain in
> positive ways.
>
>
>
> After Nanny left for work, I’d watch cartoons in the living room until mom
> came downstairs with the baby. I loved my mother and father and baby
> brother very much, so the beginning of each new day with them was always
> something like a special prize. Once I started kindergarten, the prize got
> even “specialer”. But no time was ever as special as those early morning
> hours I spent with Nanny in the kitchen.
>
>
>
>
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