Tag: #kids

The Puke Bowl

The Puke Bowl

The Puke Bowl. Do all families have one? You know, the one you pull out to put next to your kid’s bed when they have an upset stomach and things are sketchy? That, and coke syrup were staples of our childhood when sick. Our family puke bowl also had a dirty little secret.

Puke… not such a pleasant word, but I suppose it’s an apt descriptor. I’m not sure it’s better or worse than vomit, upchuck, ralphing, throw-up, or barf. All get the idea across pretty graphically. As kids, when the flu or some other illness turned our stomachs, the answer was always the same – a spoonful of coke syrup from the fridge, and then off to bed with the Puke Bowl by the bed. Running to the bathroom toilet was always the first option, but the bowl was right there if you didn’t think you could make it. Mom would dutifully wash and clean the bowl through out our misery, and when we finally became better, gave the bowl a thorough double cleaning and put it away in the utility room by the kitchen.

The Puke Bowl … In all it’s Glory …

Over the years, the Puke Bowl was also used by our nieces and nephews, if they happened to get sick when visiting Grandma and Grandpa. Three generations now called that big Tupperware bowl, the Puke Bowl. All of our spouses do as well. It became it’s own family tradition.

My sister Roberta “inherited” the bowl after mom died in 2017. All three of us kids were interested in it for nostalgic reasons, but Berta was the one who claimed it. To be honest, I did not realize mom still owned it, but of course I should have. Mom didn’t throw much away, and everything had multiple uses. Back then, America wasn’t the throw-away society we are today.

Mom Never Threw Much Away…At that Time, Most Folk Didn’t

Fast forward to this year…

A couple of months ago, Roberta’s granddaughter, Lydia, was visiting, became sick and started throwing up. When her mom, Kathi, came to pick Lydia up, Berta sent the Puke Bowl home with them, in case Lydia needed it in the car. A couple of weeks later, Berta was at Kathi’s, along with Kathi’s mother-in-law, Penny. As Roberta was getting ready to leave, Kathi said, “mom, don’t forget the Puke Bowl”, and handed Berta the bowl. Penny had a strange look on her face, and evidently thought the bowl was just a regular Tupperware bowl, like those you use for cooking or food storage. She exclaimed “What?!” Berta and Kathi started laughing, and then explained the WHOLE back story of the bowl to Penny.

In addition to being The Puke Bowl, the bowl had a secret life. It also doubled as THE bowl in which mom made her much acclaimed Potato Salad. It made an appearance whenever there was a big gathering or picnic for the family, church, neighborhood, or where ever. It was a massive bowl and the largest she owned, and due to the popularity of her potato salad, she didn’t want to run out. I don’t recall mom ever running out of potato salad at family (or other) gatherings when growing up. Never.

Tanya, Roberta and I Didn’t Seem to Suffer any Adverse Effects from the Puke Bowl…

The bowl is mostly retired now and lives in Berta’s basement. Lydia’s use a couple of months ago was the first time it was pulled out in quite awhile.

I should also mention Roberta’s daughter, Diane, is the official “holder” of mom’s potato salad recipe. Her version is the closest to mom’s of any I’ve tasted, which means it’s pretty d@mned good. Although Diane has her own set of bowls and Tupperware, including a large one she makes her potato salad in, when ever there’s a big family gathering, inevitably one of her sisters will laugh, and say to her, “Diane, you gonna make grandma’s potato salad in the Puke Bowl for the get together?” No, she doesn’t, but old family memories die hard… 😉

No, Diane Doesn’t use the Puke Bowl, to Make Grandma’s Potato Salad

Addendum:

– Our Niece, Tami, also remembered that the bowl almost always seemed to be the hiding place for someone’s Easter Basket each year at Grandma and Grandpa’s house… 😉

– In writing this blog, and talking with friends, two items became clear.

  • First, most all families had some version of a “puke bowl” or bucket, and many of them were multi-use products, particularly for holding popcorn.
  • And second, many lamented the throw-away society we have become. As Americans, we retain very little – Of course diapers, cups, plastic silverware and paper plates are all disposable. These days, so are phones, computers, mixers, coffee pots, stereo equipment, and a great deal of furniture. Washing machines, dryers and dish washers fit the same mode, unless they break down in the first few years of use.

⁃ Special Thanks to Cathy, and my sister Roberta for all of their help on this blog.

⁃ Thanks to sister Tanya, along with nephew Casey, and nieces Diane, Tami, Bre, Kathi and Jordan for their memories as well.

– Thanks and photo credit of the picture of Diane about to make potato salad, to her four year old daughter, Riley! Roberta took the pics of the bowl itself.

⁃ As always, MAJOR thanks to my old friend and editor, Colleen (who didn’t own a Puke Bowl growing up.) She always keeps me straight and on track.

Playing “Work Up”

Playing “Work Up”

Summer is almost here and schools will soon release their prisoners for the season. I envy the kids and their feelings of anticipation right now. Summertime, and the livin’ will be easy… Of course lots of the summer will be planned out, as seemingly everything is for children these days. Do they ever have the chance to just act like kids?

I was thinking back to summertime during my own youth and growing up in Tomahawk Terrace on the Southside of Ottawa, Illinois – population 18,000. There wasn’t much planning of our time at all, with every day it’s own adventure. Playground at the school? Playing Horse or two-on-two basketball at Schaefer’s or Cavanaugh’s house? Playing army in Varland’s nearby corn field or cow pasture? Hanging out and reading comics? … The possibilities were endless.

There were some organized activities in my life, such as Little League Baseball, or Boy Scout Camp, but most of the time? It was just us kids hanging out. You had to be home for lunch, and you had to be home for dinner. After that, I don’t really remember any other requirements.

… me in the mid 60s …

I think one of the best memories was playing “Work Up” baseball behind Honer’s house, next to the cemetery.

Work Up? What’s that you say? It’s the baseball game you play when you don’t have enough players for two teams, or maybe even one team. Hell, it’s the game the kids on the movie “Sandlot” would have been playing if the film had really gotten it right (and yes, I do love the movie).

The rules? Well there weren’t really any rules, but there were norms. Typically we’d have 7, 8 or 9 guys show up to play. You’d have 2 or 3 guys up to bat, with the remainder in the field. In our case, that included, in order of importance, a pitcher, 1st baseman, shortstop, 2nd baseman, and right and center fielders. We didn’t have a catcher, it was just whoever was up next to bat. The game was called Work Up because you would bat and run the bases until you made an out. Then the pitcher would go in to join the batters, the first basemen became the pitcher, and everyone else advanced one position. Whoever made the out moved to right field. Oh, and if you hit a fly ball and someone caught it, you did a direct exchange with that player.

The game was really adaptable. As an example, if you didn’t have enough kids, there might be only one outfielder, or maybe no 2nd baseman.

The only rules I really remember concerned Left Field. Our “ball diamond” had a graveyard where much of left field normally was. We never put a player in left field, although the center fielder might shade that way a bit. When you were at bat, if you hit a tombstone on the fly, it was an out – we basically assumed the gravestone “caught” the ball. If you hit a tombstone on the ground, we assumed the gravestone fielded a grounder and it was an automatic double. If you hit a ball and it didn’t touch any of the gravestones (almost impossible to do), then the ball was in play.

There are now trees near where Home plate, and 1st and 3rd Base were. Varland Park was a cow pasture at the time.

I don’t remember us ever having a set time for a game. Word just spread around and some number of guys would show up. We might play pickle, while waiting for enough folk to show. Most everybody was from the ‘Terrace, with the occasional friend or cousin added in. This included the Honer brothers, the Hinsons, Deaks, Hazelwoods, Steve Schaefer, John Levy, Chuck Ogden, Jim Habben, one of the Leach boys, Leonard Mayberry, Howard … other names I have long forgotten. If everyone showed up, we’d actually have enough for two teams and play pick-up, but that rarely happened. Kids ranged in age from a couple years older than me to a couple years younger, and there were lots of younger brothers in attendance. One unwritten rule was you didn’t try and take advantage of the younger kids. I mean, it was OK if one of your hits went towards them, but if you did it every time? Not so cool.

By the way, there was never an adult in sight. We seemed to manage just fine by ourselves, without their oversight or interference.

I don’t recall much about the games themselves, I just remember playing the game on hot summer days until we were tired. It might have been an hour, it might have gone on for three hours. Eventually someone’s mom would call and that player went home and then someone else would have to leave, and the game slowly broke up. We might reconvene again the next day, or maybe not until a week later.

I know it’s a different world today. Things are more complex, more challenging, and perhaps less safe. Kid’s lives, from what I can see as an outside observer and non-parent, are organized to the nth degree. Multiple activities, multiple practices, multiple study activities. I guess they are able to try more things, but I also think some things might get lost in the process, like the ability to entertain yourself, informal group interactions and how to handle them, and perhaps even learning a little about leadership for better or worse…

I dunno, do kids even want to spend time outside these days, or is it all mostly computer and video games? Back in the day, I know mom, or our babysitter, would have kicked us out of the house if we were hanging there too much.

I suppose some of this makes me sound like a grumpy old man after a fashion. I don’t really mean it that way. I just remember how much fun we had hanging out on our own behind Honer’s house, playing ball and trying like hell to not hit a fly ball to left field, where it was sure to be caught by a tombstone…

Addendum:

  • I went online to do a bit of research on “Work Up” baseball as a check on my memory. In a sign of the times, I found plenty of entries, most of them with long lists of rules on how to play Work Up… – sigh –
  • Thanks to Tomahawk Terrace alumni Bob Deak and Leonard Mayberry, for providing input to this blog.