Summers and the Ice Cream Truck!

And speaking of ice cream . . . When Marash Girl and her sister, her brother, her cousins, and her neighbors, were kids on Lowell Avenue, the ice cream truck would slowly drive along Lowell Avenue, the driver ringing his cheery bell . . . most probably on a Sunday afternoon, as Marash Girl recalls. None of us kids had any "spare change", as we were all still very young . . . and yet we loved ice cream so much. We would shout to the driver to stop, and then run and hide as the driver of the truck paused and looked around for his next customers . . . Sorry, ice cream truck driver! We didn't understand how disappointed you would be to find no customers when you pulled your truck over to the side of the road. We were just kids!

" . . . not to put too fine a point on it!!!"

Born and brought up in Brooklyn, and a close friend and college classmate of Marash Girl, Judith would often make an astute observation about the then current state of affairs, and add, ". . . not to put too fine a point on it!!!"

"Cookie Cutter" Copies

Marash Girl objects to the use of "cookie cutter" to describe (in a negative manner) creations that folks make, creations lacking in originality. Saturday mornings would find little Marash Girl, her younger sister, and their little brother happily making beautiful cookies using the variety of cookie cutters that their mother would provide for them. And not only Marash Girl and her family valued cookie cutters, but Marash Girl still remembers the cookie cutter collection belonging to her good friend, Springfield's beloved Shirley Tashjian, a woman who used to make the most delicious and beautiful of pastries . . . and cookies, of course, made with the cookie cutters from her vast cookie cutter collection!

Armenian in Watertown and Cambridge

Marash Girl learned to read and write Armenian during her studies at college during her first year in Cambridge, Massachusetts . . . although she had heard Armenian spoken, heard Armenian sung, and seen the Armenian letters in print all of her life. While she was studying Armenian in college, she had the opportunity to practice reading and singing Armenian in Watertown at church every Sunday morning, singing from the hymnal SPIRITUAL HYMNS OF WORSHIP, compiled and translated into Armenian and Turkish (in Armenian letters) by E. E. Elmajian. (See Marash Girl, November 19, 2017.) . . . a joyous confirmation of the Armenian she was learning in college.

When Is A Nickel Not Worth A Penny?

When is a nickel not worth a penny? Have you figured it out yet? A nickel is never worth a penny. It's worth five pennies and always has been...

Speaking Ancient Turkish in Contemporary Istanbul

Many years ago, when Marash Girl visited Istanbul, Turkey, and her friend Memet Fuat Bengu, she was able to speak Turkish with the Turks, but her Turkish was the Turkish that she grew up with -- the Turkish that her Armenian family, Armenian relatives, and Armenian friends all spoke with comfort. That was the Turkish that Marash Girl spoke. Thus, years ago, when Marash Girl visited Istanbul, her Turkish was a wonder to all the Turks with whom she spoke. Although they all knew English, Turkish folks she hardly knew would approach her and beg, "Speak Turkish, speak Turkish!!!" Apparently, the Turkish she spoke was from a different time and a different place (Marash, to be exact, presently known as Kahramanmaraş), and as Marash Girl's husband explained to Marash Girl, it was as if Marash Girl had arrived in contemporary England speaking Chaucerian English.

Nickel Riddle

When is a nickel not worth a penny? Check in on Saturday for the answer, if you haven't figured it out by then!

Awakened By The Roar!

Marash Girl was awakened early yesterday morning by the roar!

Photo by MarashGirl©2021 Fortunately, it was nothing more than the crew hired by the city to clean out the water mains! But what if it had been something more sinister? No warning from the city that such would be the case on this Tuesday morning . . . Yikes! What was in those water mains, anyway? The crew was still at it 5 hours later! It certainly causes one to wonder . . .

Desperately Seeking . . . Not Susan, But An Avocado Pit That Will Sprout!!!!

On Wednesday, August 31, 2011, Marash Girl wrote a blog on how easy it is to grow avocado trees from the pit inside of a ripe avocado . . . well, it seems that, to quote Grandpa Peter, "Those days are gone . . . forever!" Now, no matter how desperately she searches, Marash Girl is unable to find an avocado that, once eaten, its pit will sprout anything -- not roots, not a stem, not leaves . . . Any suggestions?

Ծնունդդ շնորհավոր, անուշիգ Գարուն !

Ծնունդդ շնորհավոր, անուշիգ Գարուն!

Photographer Unknown William Saroyan holding baby Karoun AGBU Armenian School, Watertown, Massachusetts

It's Not The Hymns . . .

It's not the hymns that stayed with Marash Girl all these years, but the children's choruses that she learned from her Sunday School teachers at the United Armenian Brethren Church in Watertown, Massachusetts, teachers who were young people, students themselves, attending Gordon College in Beverly, Massachusetts. And here's one of those choruses! Thank you, Lord, for saving my soul. Thank you, Lord, for making me whole. Thank you, Lord, for giving to me . . . Thy great salvation so rich and free. N.B. According to research on the internet, the music and lyrics were composed by Mr. and Mrs. Seth Sykes.

Those Boston Women!!!!

A certain uncle who had just arrived (for the first time) in Massachusetts from Paris, France, was complaining to Grandpa Peter, agonizing over the fact that whenever he went downtown to Boston, (Massachusetts), women were always beckoning to him. "That's odd," replied Grandpa Peter. "I go in to downtown Boston all the time, and no women ever beckon to me!"

And While We're Still Celebrating . . .

Have you ever created a leprechaun trap? If not, you'll need to ask Marash Girl's 5-year-old granddaughter . . . that little girl spent all of St. Patrick's Day designing and building a leprechaun trap filled with home-baked cookies!!! Marash Girl's guess is that the leprechaun escaped from the trap with a few home-baked cookies before the little girl was able to catch that clever leprechaun!

Better Late Than Never!!!

To all my Irish and Irish-American friends, and to all who love the Irish and Irish-American cultures! Happy St. Patrick's Day, albeit a day late . . . Erin go bragh! N.B. Sorry for the tardy greeting but Marash Girl was preoccupied remembering the good old days of fishing in Foxborough!

Fishing on Neponset Lake in Foxborough, Massachusetts

Often, on Sunday afternoons, Marash Girl's father Peter would drive to Heaton's Marina in Foxborough, Massachusetts, to spend a relaxing hour or two, fishing on Neponset Lake. . . he would often invite Marash Girl to join him . . . Why Marash Girl? Because she knew that fish (and her father with his fly rod) were alert to sound and motion, and thus she knew to keep still (both verbally and physically) while fishing from the flat-bottomed wooden rowboat on Neponset Lake in Foxborough, Massachusetts, all those many years ago . . . that is, if she hoped that a fish would be lured to the worm on her hook or to her father's red devil fishing lure!

Remove your shoes before entering the house . . . an "is-shoe" of contention!

When Marash Girl was living in Manhattan, and later in Cambridge, the custom was for visitors and residents alike, before entering, to remove their shoes and leave the shoes outside or just inside the doorway . . . thus, when Marash Girl married Marash Boy, she expected the same custom to prevail, but as in all marriages, opposites attract! Marash Boy saw nothing more anikramlī than requesting guests to remove their shoes before entering the house. Guess who won that argument!!!

When is a teapot not a teapot?

When is a teapot not a teapot? When it becomes a flower pot!!! [When you break the cover of the teapot, you have transfigured the teapot into a pot for the flowers in your front yard!]

I'm So Happy, And Here's The Reason Why . . .

The lyrics of one of the first Sunday School choruses Marash Girl learned as a child are recorded below. Marash Girl and her sister and brother and cousins and Sunday School friends would stand on the pulpit at the front of the Armenian Brethren Evangelical Church of Watertown, Massachusetts, and sing out the words with great gusto, big smiles and genuine joy! Marash Girl remembers the lyrics and sings the song to this day, all these many years later!!! Sorry she can't record the tune here, but she's sure you can find the music somewhere out there on the internet . . . so here goes . . . I'm So Happy Words and Music by Stanton W. Gavitt © 1936, renewal 1964 by Stanton W. Gavitt I'm so happy and here's the reason why - Jesus took my burdens all away; Now I'm singing as the days go by - Jesus took my burdens all away. Once my heart was heavy with a load of sin. Jesus took my sin and gave me peace within, Now I'm singing as the days go by - Jesus took my burdens all away.

Have you ever been awakened by the crowing of a rooster?

Being awakened by the crowing of a rooster is, literally and figuratively, an uplifting experience . . . that is, if you have spent your life waking up to the clashing sounds of the city or the low rumbling of the suburbs.

To Brighten Her Day . . .

Marash Girl's morning was brightened this week by the email she received (see below) offering her the 'Featured Job' of the day!!!! (Not a joke!) "We think you'd be a great fit for this job: "Position: Part Time Night Trash Collector." Unfortunately, Marash Girl had to demur, as her sleeping habits would have prevented her from being an acceptable candidate for the position . . .

Happy Birthday, Anoushigus!!!

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, dear Deron, Happy Birthday to you. . . And many more!!!!!

Above photo of Grandma Jennie Vartanian Bilezikian and Deron Charkoudian taken many years ago by Marash Girl in the backyard on the north/east side of the family home at 474/476 Lowell Avenue, Newtonville, Massachusetts.

When Is A Joke Not A Joke?

Have you figured it out yet? Here's the answer!!! When is a joke not a joke? When the joke's on you!!!!

Riddle Again

When is a joke not a joke? A prize for the best answer!!!!

A Postcard From Plum Island

Woke up this morning remembering a picture postcard that was popular in the old days -- a postcard sitting on a rack in the corner bookstore on Plum Island in Newburyport, Massachusetts. On the picture side of the postcard was a cartoon image of a bikini clad beach beauty, and on the message side of the postcard were printed the words, "Wish you were her!"

On Peeling An Orange . . .

Yesterday, watching Marash Boy meticulously trying to peel an orange, struggling as he was breaking the orange peel off into bits, brought to mind Uncle Paul's orange peeling skills! Pulling out his trusty jack knife, a knife he kept in his pocket at all times, most often using it to strip the insulation off two pieces of wire so he could connect them . . .Uncle Paul would entertain all the young 'uns as he twirled his knife around the skin of an orange, removing that skin in one curvaceous piece . . . a piece that Marash Girl and her cousins and siblings would love to bounce gently as they could recreate the orange in its wholeness and disassemble it as quickly. To this day, Marash Girl peels her oranges in that fashion, sometimes succeeding in accomplishing Uncle Paul's feat and bouncing the orange skin up and down as she used to do in her childhood . . . Thank you, Uncle Paul, for that fun memory!!! Although Marash Girl has recorded this memory in the past, allow her the luxury of reliving the moment as she once again remembers Uncle Paul peeling an orange. It should be noted that oranges were a rare treat in Marash, so special that Uncle Paul and his brother Peter and sisters Gulenia and Rosie each recieved an orange as a special gift only at Christmas. Marash Girl's guess is that they even planted the seeds to see if they could sprout their own orange tree. At least, that's what Grandpa Peter did when he was living in Newtonville . . . and he even managed to grow an orange tree from seed, but his orange tree never gave fruit. Luckily, by then, he could afford to provide many oranges . . . one for himself and one for each of member of his family every day.

Is Your Sixth Sense Telling You Something?

And, apropos of yesterday's blog post, Marash Girl herewith repeats herself: "If you feel that your sixth sense is telling you something, don't ignore it!!! Pay attention . . . it may be something of importance!" Especially today, on March 6th!

Don't Hesitate To Call!!

It's amazing what our "sixth sense" can do for us. If you feel that you haven't been in touch with someone for awhile, and something tells you that you should call them, follow your "sixth sense"! It's there for a reason and has been there for eons!!! N.B. The quotation, "S/he who hesitates is lost. . ." is an adaptation from Joseph Addison's play Cato written in 1712.

Watch Your Step!!!!

And Marash Girl does not mean that only metaphorically. It's been four days since she was NOT watching her step as she stepped from the curb onto what she thought was the roadway when . . . kaboom!!! Down she went. Luckily no breaks but lots of hurtin' . . . so don't be a fool . . . watch where you're goin' . . . both metaphorically and literally!!!!

Grandpa Peter and the Belly Dancer at Karoun Restaurant in Newtonville Square

When Karoun Restaurant, a restaurant featuring Armenian and Middle Eastern food and music, was nestled in Newtonville Square on the corner of Washington and Walnut Streets, Grandpa Peter would, on occasion, treat the family to supper there . The kids loved the music of the Middle Eastern band and the Armenian and Arabic line dancing. On one such auspicious occasion, a belly dancer -- scantily clad -- was featured. Grandpa Peter was the only man in the room who was NOT ogling the belly dancer, and . . . yes, you guessed it . . . the belly dancer chose to wrap her veils around the one man who continued to ignore her -- Grandpa Peter. A handsome guy was Grandpa Peter, muscled with light skin and blue eyes, and very accustomed, (in this case and many others, Marash Girl is certain,) to women throwing themselves at him . . . both literally and figuratively. But his blue eyes were only for Grandma Jennie!!!!