Category Archives: Family

The birth of an infant-sized, no-sew, Power Ranger costume

The birth of an infant-sized, no-sew, Power Ranger costume

So, three days before Halloween my daughter, who has her hands full with four children under the age of nine, tells me that they’re doing a Power-Ranger themed family costume this year. They all have their costumes, except for the newest family member, little three-month-old Elias. He was going to be the yellow Ninja Steel Power Ranger, but no costumes were available online or locally. Grandma to the rescue! I don’t sew, and don’t even own a sewing machine, so I had to come up with something that was not too time-consuming and didn’t require sewing, so off to Target and WalMart I went. The total cost of the supplies for the costume came to $34, but, that was because I had to buy four-packs of the longsleeve onesies and socks. I won’t break it down, but the cost for what was actually used for the costume was probably less than $15.

The goal:


Goal for costume:  Power Rangers Ninja Steel Yellow Ranger

There were no yellow onesies available anywhere at such short notice I needed size 0-3 months. I would need to improvise.

Rit dye to the rescue!

Now for that Ninja Steel trademark design. Using my iPad Pro, Apple Pencil and the Procreate app, I traced the design from a photo I acquired on Google images, saved it as a jpg, uploaded the photo to Cricut Design Space, and then cut the Siser HTV vinyl out using my Cricut Maker.

Traced design in Procreate app using iPad Pro and Apple Pencil


Finished design in Procreate app

Photo uploaded to Cricut Design Space and arranged on mat

Positioning the cut out HTV on the onsie

After ironing on the main part of the design

I also cut out two strips of glow-in-the-dark HTV for the white part of the design, as I had not white HTV on hand.

I arranged the white strips and ironed them on

I cut off the long yellow sleeves to make it short-sleeved, and saved the cut off portion. I then tucked a long-sleeved, black cotton shirt inside the onsie, and then pulled the saved cut-off portion of the yellow sleeves over the end of the black shirt sleeves.

After dying the socks yellow, I was corrected by my eldest grandson that the rangers wear white shoes. Good thing I bought a package of them!

Within 5 minutes of donning the costume, little Elias promptly spit up all over it! LOL!

What a crew!  Mom, Dad and the #QuadSquad



A family find: A WWII-era Letter Between Brothers in the US Navy:


A little family history:  Being the youngest of my siblings, I have no memories of either of my uncles Gerard and Barney Baker. The author of the letter below, Barney, died as a somewhat-young man, but my mother idolized her older brother and spoke of him often, so I’ve always considered it a great loss that I never got to know this man whom my mother, and others, spoke so highly of.  All I have are some old family photos that include him, and a couple of stories, but now this letter gives me a little insight to his personality, and the way he tries to support and uplift his younger brother with advice, while still not being too easy on him, speaks volumes to me about the kind of man he was. Words my mother used to describe him with were “reliable, likable, easy-going with a great sense of humor” and in a home with an absentee father my mother looked up to Barney as more of a father-figure than an older brother. Born in 1924, my ever-anxious mother was especially sensitive to the stigma of that time period of not having a father in the household, and Barney was her rock. Barney always made everything okay. Their mother, my grandmother, depended on him a little too much. There is a funny story told by my family that on the day of his marriage to Marie, his mother called him and in drama-queen fashion threatened to jump out the window if he got married, and Marie, listening in the background, said “tell her to go ahead–she’s on the first floor” — or something to that effect. Marie was a no-nonsense sort of woman with a wicked dry sense of humor. Grandma lived, Barney and Marie did marry,  and had 4 sons — cousins I’ve had little contact with over the years and mostly see on Facebook now, but the familial bond is still there and I will be contacting them to see whom I should send the original letter to. I’m sure one of them would want it, and there are also grandchildren and great-grandchildren now and I’m sure one of them would like to be the keeper of the family history.

About the letter:  My sister Peggy Facetimed me yesterday to tell me that she had found a few boxes of personal items left to me after my Aunt Eleanor O’Connor (mother’s sister) died.  A few days after Eleanor passed away my sister and I started cleaning out Eleanor’s house and Peggy had forgotten that these boxes were stored in an unused closet in her house. As she started going through one of the boxes she came across this typed letter from my uncle (my mother and Eleanor’s brother) Barney Baker to younger brother, Gerard Baker, dated August 27, 1944, written while aboard the USS Princeton while in port.  Just 82 days after this letter was written the USS Princeton was lost in the Battle of Leyte Gulf. Uncle Barney survived the battle, but not before spending a bit of time in the water awaiting rescue, but that story will be in another blog post.
Below is a transcript I just made of the letter.  The photos of the original letter are below the transcript.

The Letter:

(Handwritten, upper left corner):
Princeton Down Nov. 1, ’44

In Port
Sunday 27 August 1944

Dear Gerard:

Received your letter of July 18th the other day and was glad to hear from you.  At the moment you have me and a number of my shipmates beautifully confused.  In your letter you say that you’ve finally got a ship.  A letter from Mom dated August 14th informs me that she had a phone call from you from Norfolk. Now, salty, just what is the score?  How about letting me in on the know – I’d appreciate it.  Until you get settled in one place I’m going to address all your letters ℅ Mom and let her forward them to you.

So you don’t know what to strike for now– well, for once you’ve got me.  It’s hard for me to tell you just what to strike for.  I don’t know what you can do.  Signalman sounds like a good bet but then you might find it monotonous after a while. If you were aboard the Peerless “P” I’d have you in the “S” Division and have you rated 3rd Class in less time than it takes to skin a cat.  When I got through with you you’d be a darn good Commissary Storekeeper.  I’ve got three strikers and a 3rd class working for me and not one of them is worth a nickel.  I tell them to do something and an hour later I find that they fouled the job up and I have to do it myself anyway.  You, I’m sure, could at least follow a few simple instructions.

We’re still in port enjoying a good rest. We’re being provided with plenty of recreation.  A section of the hangar deck was marked off and a pair of baskets rigged up — so now we can have basketball games every day.  We also have Volley Ball games daily and swimming is permitted over the side.  There are several trips a day to the beach but I’m not too interested in the beach because there’s nothing to do over there but walk, swim or sleep.  You can do all of that on the ship without going over to beat up an old Island.

We now have a boxing team and it is quite a good team.  Our team has competed with the teams from 3 other ships and we have won all three matches.  The boys are trained by an ex Golden Glover whose name is Buddy O’Dell.  He deserves a lot of credit because he has done a fine job – there are four fellows on the team who never had boxing gloves on before they joined the Navy.  They couldn’t fight before, but you should see them now.  There was one fight about a week ago that no one who saw it will ever forget for a long time to come.  One of our boys, a fellow named Shaefer, was matched with a fellow from another ship.  It was a three round bout and Shaefer had the other fellow hanging on for dear life from the opening bell, but just before the end of the round the other fellow took a wild swing – a hay maker right from the deck — and surprised himself and everyone else by connecting with it.  That roundhouse caught Shaefer right on the eye.  The round ended in Shaefer’s favor but in the rest period between rounds Shaefer’s eye went up like a balloon in spite of all the work his seconds did on it.  The Captain wanted to stop the fight because Shaefer’s eye really looked bad.  Shaefer begged to be allowed to continue the fight and was granted permission.  All through the second his opponent kept popping away at that bad eye and Shaefer lost the second round on points because he spent most of the round trying to protect his eye.  When the third round started the fight was all even and the third was to be the deciding round.  Both boys went to work with a vengeance and they stood toe to toe slugging for all they were worth and even though Shaefer had a bad eye he more than held his own against the other fellow and the round & fight ended in a draw.  Shaefer got an ovation he, or anyone present, will ever forget.  The Captain made a speech — he had his arm draped around Shaefer’s shoulder and said Shaefer had shown him the finest display of sheer guts he had ever seen.  Yes sir, it was quite a scrap.  There will probably be a writeup in the next issue of “Tiger Rag” and as soon as it comes out I’ll send you a copy.

Three of the ships have sent their orchestras over to entertain us and believe me those fellows can play.  One swing band was so good that we almost wrecked the ship.  A lot of the fellows in the bands were professionals before the war.  They came from Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey and all the other named bands.  One ship has Tommy Dorsey’s arranger aboard and does that outfit have a band.  Jerry would like to be in that outfit I’ll bet.  We’re getting up a band of our own and the boys haven’t shown much promise.  Seven musicians (?) have been located aboard.  We call them the Princeton’s Putrid Seven.  Maybe they’ll improve — they had better or they’ll be tossed off the fan-tail some night.

That’s all for now, salty.  Keep your chin up and don’t get discouraged.  All rates are closed now and it might be a while before they open up again.  So work hard and someone is sure to notice you and when the rates open up again you’ll be the first guy to get rated.  If, on the other hand you get a reputation for always hiding when there’s work to be done you’ll be a seaman as long as you’re in the Navy.  I know, because I’ve seen seaman on my working parties who have been in the Navy longer than I have.  And from the way they try to chisel I can see why they’re still seaman.  So let’s get on the ball, salty.  Admiral Nimitz didn’t get to be an Admiral in the day, a month or a year, so don’t get the idea you’re going to run the Navy in a short time.  Get some time in, you boot.  All the best to you from Barnacle Barney and his shipmates.

Your sea weary brother,


Pictured below is Barney in later years, with wife Marie and sons, and I believe that’s my sister Peggy in the front. This photo was most likely taken by my father, the “Jerry” mentioned in the letter, because he was the photographer in the family at that time — a beloved hobby he stuck with his entire life. He also continued to listen to big-band swing music his entire life.


Also found in the box was this photo that Peggy and I have never seen before. On the couch starting on the far left is Marie, my grandmother Maggie (who threatened to jump out the window) and my mother Estelle holding Peggy on her lap. In the front left is Barney, and my dad Jerry King (mentioned in the letter) and my brother Jimmy (James King). I’m not sure which of the small boys is whom, except that has to be my cousin Jim Baker as a baby in his mother’s arms. I’m not sure whose house this was taken in, but it was most likely Brooklyn, NY.

Update from Jim Baker The picture on the sofa was likely Grandma Baker’s apartment.
Baby me in Marie’s lap. Tommy Baker next to us. Larry Baker with his finger in his mouth. Billy Baker sitting in front of Marie, sporting a dashing bow tie. “Bow ties are cool.”


The Value of Life — What Are Parents Teaching Their Kids About Respecting Others and Themselves?


Listen, this is how I see it:  Police lives matter. Black lives matter. White lives matter. All races lives matter. Animal lives matter. Plant life matters. Insect lives matter. All LIFE matters. We are all connected in ways we cannot even imagine, and our actions effect so much more than just ourselves. It seems like so many people just do not GET that, or care. It may not be a life that is high on YOUR priority list, but all life is sacred and deserves to be respected. I’m not talking about allowing roaches to take over your home, or a virus to take your life, or not defending yourself against a criminal — there has to be an element of common sense, but we must be very careful about our attitudes towards all living things.

Parents need to teach their children the VALUE of LIFE and every person’s right to be treated with respect and individual dignity, because childhood is where these values are formed, and because if they don’t we will have a society of sociopathic, self-centered monsters on our hands. Respect for life starts in the home, through what your children see you do, how you treat them and others, how you react to things, and what they hear you say, on a daily basis. Do you make snide comments about the homeless guy you just passed in your car? Do you spew verbal hatred at people you see on the news? Do you make fun of people less fortunate than you, or laugh along when someone else does? Do you make it known that you resent people who have more money than you? Do you lack respect for the law and in turn make your kids fearful of the police? Do you talk to your kids in an annoyed, disrespectful and impatient way that makes them feel like they are a burden, keeping you from living the life you want? Do you hit them, or otherwise abuse them? Do you ignore them? This is the poison you’re injecting into your kids that will effect how they live for the rest of their lives. Don’t be surprised if they end up alcoholics, drug addicts, criminals, prostitutes, or at the very least spend their lives chronically depressed or angry and making really poor life choices. Mind your mouth and your actions, PUT DOWN the damn cell phone/tablet/video game controller and spend some quality time with your kids, because children are always watching, hearing, and learning more than you think they are.

Oh Yes I Did!! The Birth of a Fertility Ornament.

Oh Yes I Did!!   The Birth of a Fertility Ornament.

When my sister sent me a text photo of an ornament my niece found online, I went to work right away to make one, but with my own special twist of humor, as you’ll see below!  

My niece has been married for 2 years and wants very much to have a baby.  I’m not sure how she came across the original ornament photo online, but my guess is that a Google search was involved.  I’ve decided to call it “the fertility ornament.” 

IMG_0657 - Jan 7, 2015, 8:47:32 PM

So, it begins with clay…

These little swimmers were hand rolled and sculpted from Pardo clay.
Unlike the original ornament I was copying, which had all “normal” sperm,
I decided to add a couple of defective ones to add to the humor of it all.

Time for baking.  One hour at 275 degrees Fahrenheit.
While most women were baking Christmas cookies I was baking, um…er…


Once baked they were dunked in a bowl of ice water to harden and increase durability:

IMG_0566 - Version 2


Now it’s time for the eyeballs.
I decided to give my defective swimmers an equally defective number of eyes.

The two-tailed one has 3 eyes, and the two-headed one has 3 eyes combined.
While I was sitting there gluing on the eyes I was giggling like a nutcase.
I did warn you about my sense of humor:


Now to glue them onto the ova (round glass ornament):


And the finished product was ready to ship to my niece!

My niece, sister, and brother-in-law had lunch together and FaceTimed me so I could see her reaction when she opened the gift.
Yes, she laughed and said “Oh!  You made one!”

IMG_0657 - Jan 7, 2015, 8:47:32 PM

An Amazing WWII Firsthand-Account Scrapbook of a U.S. Army Officer 1941-1945


I inherited this amazing piece of history when my Aunt Eleanor O’Connor passed away a few years ago. Her husband, John O’Connor, was the brother of James Joseph O’Connor, the subject of this scrapbook.  The scrapbook begins on April 11, 1941, and finishes November 14, 1945 with the final letter stating “with any luck I’ll be back in New York by Christmas.”  In it you will see there are lots of personal letters, mostly to Jame’s mother, Mary, historical newspaper clippings, postcards, money, stamps, telegrams, maps, and photographs.  I have yet to really sit down and read all the letters, but plan to soon.