Friday, November 28, 2014

Snowball Fight

I was in the 5th grade which means I was 10 years old. I lived in one of the many small towns my family moved to. As a matter of fact this small town is probably the closest to being my home as any.

My grandmother lived there. My uncle and his family came to town on Saturdays to shop and party. I liked living there.

The public school was on the opposite corner of town from where I lived. We usually walked to school but sometimes we were lucky enough to have my mother give us a ride.

In Nebraska we got a lot of snow during the winter. It was not a hardship because we expected it. It was just the way the weather worked.

The school was for Kindergarten through 12th grade like most of the schools I went to. And this school had a large number of students. More than I was used to up to that time.

This particular school did not open the doors to students until time for school to begin. If we got there early we played outside. Tag and other group games kept us busy until we could go inside.

However throwing activities were against the rules. Balls and that sort of thing might break a window. The prohibition against throwing included snowballs. No snowball fights... ever!

There had been a good snow overnight. It was nice and wet... perfect for snowballs. We decided to go across the street to the yard of one of my classmates. We just could not leave that great wet snow untouched.

It was a magnificent snowball fight. We did not even take the time to choose teams. It was every man for himself.

We made and threw snowballs until the bell rang. With all the running and throwing and laughing we were all nicely exercised and ready to settle down for a warm classroom and our lessons.

Once attendance was taken the principal visited our room. He was a short round man with a very deep baritone of a voice. And he was not happy. Someone had broken the no throwing rule.

One of the teachers had arrived at the school to see us having our glorious snowball fight across the street from the school. She took down all our names and marched straight in to see the principal in a self-righteous rage. He would be calling us out of class later when he had decided on our punishments.

We were indignant of course. We had not been on school grounds. We had broken no rules. And we certainly did not deserve to be punished.

The boys were called to the office first. The girls waited in the secretary's outer chamber. One by one the boys came out rubbing their bottoms with wet eyes that were slightly red.

When all the girls were assembled in the principal's office he boomed out in that deep voice of his that we would have to be punished. He explained that we may not have been on the school grounds for the snowball fight but we had been there earlier so technically he was responsible for us and we had broken the rules. WHAT?!?!

He went on to say that he had paddled each boy five whacks with his paddle. He had never had to paddle a girl before. Therefore each of us would get three whacks.

I got to go first. Lucky me. The whacks did not hurt because he did not hit us as hard as the boys. We were girls after all. The secretary had been called in to be a witness. There was to be no suggestion of impropriety you know.

Now one of the girls had on a skirt with lots and lots of can-cans as we called them. Can-cans were starched petticoats that were stiff and made the skirt stand out prettily. When she would lean over the chair to place her bottom in position for a spanking the can-cans popped into the air exposing (gasp) panties.

Finally the secretary came over to hold the skirt down so no panties would be seen. The principal gave her the three whacks and we all went back to class giggling because of his embarrassment. His little round fat face was so red.

Of course we knew which teacher had demanded punishment for our misdeeds. She was such a prune. We set about plotting ways to get her back. Sadly we never did anything but I still sort of wish we had. I also still feel that we did nothing wrong.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014


This week we in the United States celebrate Thanksgiving. Traditionally it is to commemorate the pilgrims being thankful for making it through an especially hard winter.

The tradition tells us that the Indians showed the Pilgrims how to fertilize the seeds they planted by planting fish with them. Because the Indians were so helpful they were invited to a feast to give thanks for the bounty of the harvest.

There were many Thanksgiving days held sporadically over the years. Finally President Franklin Delano Roosevelt proclaimed the 4th Thursday in November to be a national holiday celebrated every year.

For some it is a religious holiday. For most of us it is a day to gather the family together to over-eat a magnificently scrumptious meal. I love Thanksgiving meals. Mmmmmm.

But I do try to reflect on those things for which I am thankful. There are many.

I am thankful for my children. The only thing that has given me greater joy in my life is my grandchildren. I am so thankful for them.

I am thankful for the family I was born into. I had such wonderful parents and I loved all of my brothers and sisters. I am thankful that I can now love their children and grandchildren.

I am thankful for the family I married into. I cannot imagine being more accepted and loved by people who did not have to love me.

I am even thankful for the father of my children. He was a remarkable person and even though I no longer wanted to be married to him I miss him now that he is gone.

I am thankful that I am reasonably healthy. Many people my age have begun to deteriorate and have scary health conditions.  I am fortunate.

I am thankful for indoor plumbing. It may sound like nothing to most but I often lived without it when I was growing up and I never want to do it again.

I am thankful for the peace in my life. I wish it for everyone.

I am thankful that I am a happy person. I have so much to be happy about that it would be a shame to waste by being unhappy.

These are but a few but they are probably the most important. What are you thankful for?

Friday, November 21, 2014

The Robot

My oldest son was easily scared when he was little. A lot of the things people thought would scare him did not but then the strangest things would make him cringe with fright.

For instance there were horror movies on late night television when the boys were small. We stayed up and watched them with glee. My son still likes them. The old Hammer films are his favorites.

His uncle drove a delivery truck for a beer distributor. Often the company had promotional displays for retail stores. One such display was the famous delivery wagon along with the team of horses that pulls it. It was impressive with the barrels of beer on the wagon.  It was probably 3 feet long in total. His uncle took one home with him and placed it so it could be seen by everyone.

For some reason my son was afraid of it. It was on display so it could be seen as you entered the house. My son would grab my leg and clutch it until we were inside the house and past the horses and wagon. Then he was fine.

My brother-in-law bedeviled my son at almost every turn. It was done as a loving thing and he meant no harm. It was what he did with all the kids including his own. My son just reacted differently. So at his uncle's house he never knew what to expect. He was appropriately scared all the time.

It was one of my son's favorite places to visit. I think he liked being frightened. Now that he is grown he tries his best to scare his nieces and nephews in the same way.

My son has always been interested in gadgets. We had some of the very first home computers and my son was the one who used them the most. Of course there were video game systems too. His brother and sister thought they were okay but he loved them.

My son researched what made them work and studied about what new technologies were coming soon. He learned to troubleshoot which is so handy when you are dealing with this kind of thing. He even began building his own computers using what he judged to be the best components. For little money he could have a top-of-the-line computer.

My son is the first to try a new electronic gadget. Cell phones, tablets, readers; all are thinbgs he researches intensely and then buys what he has decided to be the best. It works out well for me because I get his old one of whatever it is.

He even bought a Roomba. Roomba is a flat little robot type of thing. He has programmed it to vacuum the carpets while we sleep. We wake to clean floors. It works well and I highly recommend it.

When I think of him owning a robot it brings a smile to my face. When he was almost two years old Santa gave him a robot for Christmas.

It was a marvel. It was battery operated. It stood about 18 inches tall.

When you turned it on it would walk across the floor in a menacing manner because it was a warrior. At intervals it would stop, its chest would open, and a gun would pop out and noisily fire. Then the chest would close and the robot would advance some more.

My son was terrified. I tried to have him become more familiar with it by handling it while it was turned off. Nope. He wanted nothing whatsoever to do with that robot.

Even my little brother who was only 6 years old tried to cajole him into not being afraid. Nothing worked.

I am not sure what ever happened to that poor robot. Not much scares my son any more. He might even like the robot now.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Evolution Of Life At The Bar

When the band I managed moved to a new bar to work it was a real change. The bar was huge with a nice dance floor that was slightly sectioned away from the tables.  Everything was clean and the customers were not as ready to cause problems as before. It was almost like a nightclub.

There were two brothers who owned the business. One was always present and the other seldom seen but his wife was always there. They were young like we were.

The older of the brothers was the one who ran the bar. He was a single man who really wanted to marry but had terrible luck with women. It seemed as if each woman was only interested in his money. He was a super nice person and deserved better.

He became a drug user and died at a young age. It was never stated as such but I believe it was AIDS probably from a shared needle.

When his health began to deteriorate the other brother took over. I was never as close to him as the first brother but I really liked his wife a lot.

She was in charge of the waitresses. She was very pretty and friendly. Everyone liked her. They had two little girls who were also very pretty.

She came to me one evening and asked if she could talk to me. I went to a more private spot with her. She was worried that her husband was having an affair. I was shocked. In the first place he was not a desirable person to me. He was nice enough to look at but his personality was rather surly. I was  not sure what to say but it turned out that she just needed someone to talk to.

As time went on she discovered that it was true that he was seeing someone else. Imagine my horror to find out that it was a good friend of mine who was working as a waitress there also.

The wife filed for divorce. She continued to work there which pleased almost everyone. The two women even developed a sort of relationship that was not unfriendly.

After quite some time the wife began to date a customer. He was very nice and very devoted to her. Several months later they married. It is a good marriage and they are happy. By this time she had left the bar to become a full time mother and homemaker.

The owner and my friend also married. She became the person in charge of the floor. She was surprisingly capable. Their marriage is a bit more turbulent but by and large they are happy.

The major problem is that he would like another child and she does not want children. She feels that the two daughters he has are enough.

She was an adopted child and she was raised with an adopted brother. They had a happy life and she loved her parents.

She did not ever try to find her biological parents. She told me that she had no need. I asked if she was worried that her parents would be hurt if she did.

She told me that they actually helped her brother find his mother. So she just had no interest in those who had given birth to her. And she did not want children.

I was no longer working at the bar. The band had undergone so many changes. They finally left the bar and shortly thereafter the band was no more.

My friend and her husband who owned the bar sold it. They have moved on to better things. I guess we all did. I miss the big happy family that we were at one time.

There were many personalities there. We truly cared about each other.

The death of the one brother was a big blow. We all loved and respected him. The divorce and remarriages were important events to all of us. We all came through the best we could. Not all parties are friends but they are friendly. It is as much as can be expected sometimes.

But, oh my, what a time we had. It was good.

Friday, November 14, 2014


A friend and I decided to take a couple of weeks away from regular life. After much discussion and checking our funds we settled on a cottage north of the thumb of Michigan's mitten.

The cottage was in a small community of cottages just outside of Oscoda. The location was ideal. I could step out of the door of the cottage, turn left and I was standing on the beach of Lake Huron.

I was usually the first one awake in the morning. I could either look out a window at the view or sit on the small landing that served as a sort of porch.

I could look out one window at the serenity of the lake. There is something so soothing and calming about a body of water. I think perhaps it might be a form of meditation because I can just look and not have my mind working.

Another window gave me a view of the picnic area in the midst of all the cottages. There were tables, lots of grass and a few flowers, and bird feeders. Hummingbirds were plentiful at the time we were there and I could spend hours watching them.

I had the same views if I chose to sit outside. The difference was that I also had sounds to accompany the sights.

In the morning there was a very slight sound of surf from the lake. The birds and small animals made all their little noises. Even though the highway was close it seemed very far away so the sounds of travel were muffled. It made for a feeling of well-being as I sat and soaked in the peace.

At night when I looked out over the lake I could see huge waves rolling in to the shore. I had not realized that the lakes enjoyed tides of that magnitude. Watching them roll in is awe inspiring. Again it gave me a feeling of contentment.

We could swim in the lake during the day. The water was warm that time of the year so it was fun to just get in the water and stay there until my skin was pruny.

In the evenings there was a huge fire pit on the beach. The cottage owners provided firewood and anyone staying in the cottages was welcome to sit around the fire. You could roast marshmallows and hot dogs. You could tell ghost stories or tall tales. You could sing songs that everybody knew and if you were lucky someone brought their guitar.

Our cottage was small. We had one living room/kitchen, one bedroom, and one bathroom. However it was comfy. We had to provide our own food but there were dishes and pots and pans. Nothing fancy but it was to provide necessities not luxuries.

They even provided a barbeque grill in case we decided to cook out. It was fun to cook my meals outside as I watched the activity on the lake.

We could see the occasional Great Lakes freighter. They are quite distinctive in shape. There were a lot of boaters. Some were fishing; others were just out for a boat ride in the sun.

As much as we loved being on the lake and in the cottage we did do other things too. Driving through the country is a favorite pastime of mine. Just to look at the trees and houses along a country road is satisfaction enough. But sometimes you make some unexpected finds.

One day we came across a nursery. It was buried out in the country but obviously did a booming business. We were not in a position to buy anything right then because we would not be able to plant right away. But we had a good time looking at all the things they had to offer.

We rented a canoe another day and alternately rowed and coasted along the Au Sable River. At one part of the day a beaver swam along side of us on his way to his dam. He was a cute little critter.

We tried some of the local restaurants too. My favorite was an "all-you-can-eat" buffet place. Most places like this provide you with a bit of meat and a buffet of several types of sides. This one served seafood.

From the buffet you could choose fish, shrimp, roast beef. Then there was mashed potaoes, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti salad, and several other carbohydrate offerings. Vegetables both raw and cooked were plentiful. They even had corn on the cob.

There was a separate salad bar. It had more than the usual lettuce, tomato and a few toppings. All sorts of fresh garden vegetables as well as sprouts, mushrooms, garbanzo beans, with shredded eggs, cheeses, bacon bits, and various nuts for the top.

What we did was each make a salad, and fill a plate with fish and all the sides we could fit on it. Then we took one plate and piled it high with shrimp to share. We piled another plate with crab legs. We not only ate all that but we had another plate of crab legs for good measure.

It was close to closing time when we arrived at the place. My experience with this type of restaurant is that as closing time draws near they begin to take away the empty containers of food in order to make for a quick cleanup when the customers have gone.

Not this place. They closed and locked the doors to newcomers but kept refilling all the food. A glutton's paradise.

I ate so much there that it is embarrassing to tell you about it. Everything was delicious. When we finally went back to the cottage we moaned and groaned our way in. I have honestly never eaten anywhere close to that much in my life.

My stay at the cottage in Oscoda was one of the happiest times I have spent away from home. I actually cried when it was time for it to end.

canoeing beaver

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Poppy Poster Contest

In the United States we celebrate Veterans Day on November 11. It is a day to honor the men and women who have served in our country's military.

A lot of my family have proudly served. Some served voluntarily and others were drafted.Being drafted does not necessarily mean that they were not proud to serve. It simply means that their choice was restricted as to timing.

Many of our military have returned home after giving their time to no jobs, no family, and other insurmountable problems. Most can regain a fairly normal life but some cannot.

If they had to endure the horrors of war things are worse. I have often said of the Viet Nam War that no one came back whole. If they were fortunate enough to have whole bodies they still had the emotional scars. Usually those are more difficult to treat.

So we honor our veterans... those who were lucky enough to come home alive. There might be parades or other celebrations.

Veterans organizations sponsor a lot of the celebrations. They are the ones who try to keep us mindful that there are people who were willing to give their all for the rest of us. We need to remember.

So one of the things they do is to sell poppies. Not real poppies. The veterans and the veterans auxiliary organizations used to make them by hand. I think they are probably mass produced these days. Then for a donation you can proudly show your support for these wonderful people.

The money they collect is used in various ways. Medical help, job counseling, family services are only a few. I buy a poppy every year to honor the veterans of my family. My father and brother are the main ones but there are so many others.

When I was very young we honored the veterans in various ways. There was a parade and a trip to the cemetery to also honor the fallen as well as veterans who had aged and died. There were activities in the park. It was a beautiful way to remember.

At school we made posters in art class. We were to make a piece of art to show our thoughts about Veterans Day. A poppy was to be a part of the poster. We each took a donation to school to purchase the poppy for our posters.

Our posters were then displayed in various businesses around town. Mine was in the little grocery store a block and a half from my house. I was so proud.

I do not remember too much about the poster. I do remember there was an airplane and the poppy.  Nothing more. But it must have been pretty good.

A committee went up and down the street looking at all the posters on display. They judged them all and chose the top three. Mine took third place.

I was in second grade. These posters were from the whole school and mine was third best!

We were notified at school of the winners. I do not remember who else won but they were all older than I was. I did not even know there was a contest until that day.

My prize was a check for $1.00. That is correct; one dollar. It seemed like a fortune. It was 1954 and a dollar could buy a lot.

On my way home from school I stopped at the little store where my poster was right there in the front window. I told the owners who I considered to be my very close friends that I had won third place. They were proud of me.

The next day my poster was still in the window only now it had a third place ribbon attached to it. Wow. I felt famous.

The owners of the store cashed my check for me that day. I bought a half gallon of ice cream so my whole family could celebrate with me. I also bought myself an ice cream treat to eat on the way home and stuck the change (yes there was change!) in my pocket.

The Poppy Poster Contest is the only prize I have ever won for something like that. It was a big deal.

Remember at least one veteran today. Even if you are not in the United States your country has veterans too. They are important people.

Friday, November 7, 2014

More To Remember

I had such fun the last time I took a trip down memory lane that I decided to do it again. I happen to remember each and every one of these things. I am so old!

Mumbley peg is not recommended for children. I cannot believe that we played and our parents did not realize that we were doing it. There are two versions that we played. Each player had his/her own pocket knife to use.

In the first version each player would stand with legs spread apart. They would take turns dropping their knives to see who could get it to stick in the ground closest to his own foot. The older boys flipped the knife at the opponent's foot to try to be closest but us younger one's were not quite that stupid.

In the second version each player would do trick flips with the knife. If the knife stuck in the ground the player could keep playing. If his knife did not stick and his opponent's knife did not stick they continued. But if his knife did not stick and his opponent's did the game was over.

Pick-up sticks were great fun. Colored sticks that look like toothpicks with pointed ends and about 7 inches long. You gather the sticks together lengthwise and stand them together on end and let go. The sticks will fall into a pile. You must pick up the sticks one at a time without moving any other sticks. Each color is worth a certain amount of points to be added at the end to see who wins.

Most people did not have air conditioners back then. It was a challenge to try to keep cool. If our parents said we could we played in the sprinkler. Sometimes we had no sprinkler so one of us would hold the water hose with a thumb or finger partially blocking the flow of water to make a spray we could run through.

Different kinds of sprinklers make for different kinds of enjoyment. The ones that spray in an arc were fun. They sprinkle from side to side up and over. I liked to lay in the grass and let the sprinkle pass over me as it went from one side to the other.

There are sprinklers that spin the water out. You have to be quick to get a share of water from those. Sprinklers that are like hoses with holes in them are not quite as much fun as the others but they cool you off.

Davy, Davy Crockett, King of the wild frontier. Davy Crockett was the most popular anything for a while. There was a series of Davy Crockett mini movies made by Disney for the weekly show. Everybody was singing the theme song.

Kids had coon skin caps, bb guns, lunch boxes; you get the idea. Anything with Davy Crockett on it would sell.

Speaking of Davy Crockett the company that made Wheaties breakfast cereal had a Davy Crockett promotion. On the back of every Wheaties box was a 45RPM record imprinted into the cardboard of the box. When you had emptied the box you carefully cut the record from the box and played it on your record player. They really worked.

Slinky came into being when a sailor was testing different types of springs to use to stabilize instruments at sea. One of the springs fell from a shelf and followed itself to the table and the floor. A remarkable toy was born.

Original slinkys were made of steel and lasted forever as long as they did not get tangled. Today most of them are made of plastic because it is so much cheaper. Perhaps it is my imagination but I do not think they perform as well as the old steel ones.

Kick ball was a popular game at school. It is played much the same as baseball except that the ball is almost the size of a basketball and you kick it (hence the name kick ball) instead of using a bat. The school liked it because the ball seldom went through a window. We liked it because a person did not need to be as talented as for a baseball game.

Young men wore a hair style that was called a D.A. It was combed back at the sides where the hair met at the middle of the back of the head. There the hair was combed upward to resemble the feathers of the tail of a duck. We were allowed to call it a duck tail but a slightly more risque name for the back of the duck was what really made it a Duck's A**.

Games on the playground were often played in the round with everyone in a circle except for "it". "It" would make a situation so that people from the circle would have to try to catch him. If they could not they would be it. There were games played in lines that were similar.

Some of those games were duck duck goose, pum pum pull away, freeze tag, and drop the hankie. Dodge ball where one person is "it" and everybody else takes turns trying to hit him with the ball and keep away where everybody tries to keep "it" from intercepting the ball sort of fall into the same category.

Jump rope with the little rhymes that accompany the jumping is fun. Almost all girls had a jump rope to jump by herself. Longer ropes were used as two girls twirled the ends as the jumper jumped. More than one person could jump at a time that way.

There were specialty jumps using the single rope and the long rope at the same time or two long ropes being twirled in opposite directions and many variations of each of those.

For a while there was a game called Chinese jump rope using long ropes made of rubber bands. I watched others do it but I never really understood it. It was entertaining though.

Jacks are little star shaped pieces, 10 in all. There is a ball about an inch in diameter. You toss the jacks to slightly spread them in front of you. Then you gently toss the ball into the air... not too far now. Before the ball comes down you pick up one jack. Then you catch the ball in the same hand the jack is in as the ball bounces up again.Set the jack down beside you and do it again. You try to get all ten of the jacks in this manner.

That is not the end of the game however. The next time around you have to pick up two jacks at a time. Next time.three. These are called onsies, twosies, threesies. You will do foursies, fivesies, sixies, sevensies, eightsies, ninesies, and tensies.

Now you may think that is the end. Nope. You start all over with onesies but this time the ball must bounce twice before you catch it. You can stay busy for a long time with jacks.

Kick the can. For this game you need a tin can. "It" watches as another player kicks the can as far as possible. "It" then runs to retrieve the can as the other players hide. As "it " finds the hiding players he places them in the area designated as jail. They must remain in jail until all players have been captures unless one of the other players comes out of hiding to rescue him. The problem with that is that the other player leaves himself vulnerable to be caught as well. When all players have been jailed the first player captured is "it".

Cars were distinctive in the "olden" days. You could immediately identify a car just by looking at it. But they still went through a lot of changes in style.

Most cars used to have running boards. Those are the metal "sidewalks" beneath the doors on either side of the car. I am not certain what they were for. Perhaps at one time they were strong enough to provide a step up to enter the car.

Tail fins made a car look longer and oh so cool. The bigger the car the better.

Back then the really cool cars sat low to the ground and were called low riders. Really cool cars were lower in the back than in the front.

The last game for this time is hopscotch. A series of squares is drawn on the sidewalk or street using chalk. In the beginning of the game you just hop on one foot to the end of the squares, hop to turn around and hop back. There are spots where two squares will be side by side. Each foot goes into one square at the same time.

For subsequent turns a marker such as a rock is used to toss to squares beginning with the first square. You jump over that square and complete your round. When you come back to that square you stand on one foot (two if you are in side by side squares), bend over, and pick up the stone. You hop in that square and out of the drawing. Using the marker will continue until you have done it to each square.

If you wish to continue you can mark two squares instead of one or set up any challenges you wish.

So how many do you remember? Do you have any to add?

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Measure Your Face

When I was a young girl every girl was to have one goal in life. Catch a man, marry the man, and have children. My parents did not emphasize anything so silly but we were taught that concept in school.

Glamor magazines and women's magazines told us how to make ourselves more attractive so men would notice us and of course they would be interested if we looked good enough. There were so many beauty tips and instructions on how to act so that men would be interested.

Of course all of this instruction included the fact that men had very fragile egos. A female should not be too smart or the male would be intimidated by her. A female should be demur. If she was too forward or confident it would scare the male.

When I was in the 7th grade we were required to take a home economics course for a semester. This class was packed with all the things needed to turn us into well-rounded young "ladies".

We learned to make a cake from scratch. I had been doing that for my whole life so it was boring. We made a magnificent apron. If I ever decide to sew I would make another because it was an apron that was useful. It even covered the sides of the body. If the cook absent-mindedly wiped her (and of course it would be a her) down the sides of her body the apron actually covered the necessary area.

We made a skirt. Mine was a dismal mess. One side was about 6 inches above my knee while the other was about 3 inches above my foot. It was terrible. It was a pretty color though and my mother was able to make something from the material.

We learned to dry and arrange flowers to make a comfortable home for our man. We learned to properly set a table and serve a meal. Serve from the left, remove from the right. That is how to place a dish in front of the person. Is that not a helpful thing to know?

We learned how to behave on an outing with a man. Listen attentively and always look at him when he speaks. Of course you must not be too forward. Always defer to his wishes. And men like to be considered the protector so you must seem rather helpless. Poor fragile men.

An important thing to know was to change your underwear daily because men have a more developed sense of smell. We must not offend.

Cleanliness is next to something that will be important to that man. We even had to learn to wash our hair. One of the girls had an expensive sweater on that day so she removed it to keep from ruining it. That happened to be the day the janitor walked into the room unannounced. She screamed a lot.

It seemed to me that by the time we were 12 years old we should already know how to do all those things (with the exception of drying and arranging flowers). I thought it was a frivolous class.

But the class was required. There was one thing that I learned there that was fun and funny. It is how to measure your face.

We were told that this was the measure of beauty. It was used to determine if a model had a photogenic face. I hope you try it. It is fun and seems to work quite well.

First you hold your hand up with fingers open. Move your thumb next to your forefinger. It should reach ever so slightly below your first knuckle. This is your measuring tool.

From the earlobe to the top of your ear should be as long as the distance from the end of your thumb to the end of your forefinger. Did you try it? Amazing isn't it?

From one corner of your mouth to the other should be the same length. The tip of your nose to the spot between your eyes is the same. Each eye should be the same from corner to corner.From your eyebrow to the hairline (your forehead) will also be the same.

But the most important measurement is that your face from the side hairline to the other side hairline while going across your eyes should be exactly five units of measurement.

Now I know that models are not supposed to be full-faced these days. That was a long time ago. But how well do you match up to the beauty standard of those days? It was truly important if you wanted to catch that man.