Pot Pourri #1

This post will be about unrelated things that I have remembered. There is not enough about any subject to rate a post all on its own.

I've written about clothing styles but left out some things that may be of interest. We wore beaded angora collars with crew-necked sweaters. The collar was tied in front. It dressed up the sweaters in much the same way as scarves did.

My favorite skirt was a red flannel straight skirt with about 8 kick pleats at the bottom. These pleats started below the knee and went to the bottom of the skirt. They made walking easier than some of the straight skirts did.

My first pair of high heels were black platform - the very latest style. I was excited to have a pair of heels but I didn't like the platforms much. I believe I was a freshman in high school when I got them.

I was very near-sighted and had to sit in the front of the classroom so I could see the blackboard. Several of my girl classmates got glasses and my folks thought I just wanted the glasses because they had them. I got my glasses finally about the summer between 8th grade and my freshman year in high school. I was amazed to be able to reconize people sitting across the gym from me. It was great to be able to see better.

I had an overbite and one "eye" tooth that was sideways. Mom and I drove to a dentist about 30 miles from Ness to another little town. He put braces on my upper teeth. We would do a little grocery shopping so we could have cheese, bologna and crackers on the way home. Whenever the dentist tightened my braces, my mouth would be so tender by suppertime that I couldn't even eat soup. The braces came off before 8th grade graduation. They were supposed to go back on afterwards - but we never went back! Hooray!! The tooth was straight and the overbite was corrected.

My chores around the house were to dust the hardwood floor with the dust mop and to dust the knickknacks on the shelves. Sometimes I ran the vacuum cleaner. I also dried the dishes when Mom washed them. She would let me get out of drying the dishes - if I would go practice the piano. So I practiced!

My piano lessons started when I was in 3rd grade, I think. My teacher was a talented lady in Ness. I took from her until about 7th grade. I don't remember why I quit. My next teacher lived in a small town 12 miles from Ness. She taught two of us together until I quit. Mom made sure I always practiced my lesson. The other girl, a classmate of mine, did not practice. So we would have to take the same lesson again with the very same songs. I got tired of this, eventually, and quit. We did have fun playing music for two pianos!

Mom was good about seeing that I practiced the piano. I had to do it before I could go out to play. My neighbor Jim would come over and stand on the porch looking in the door waiting for me to be finished. Sometimes, I would be practicing when Mom went outside to hang the clothes. I would stop playing, run to the kitchen and set the timer on the kitchen stove for less time. I didn't know for many years that Mom would come in the house and set the time for more! So I acutally practed as long as I was supposed to - even though I thought I was getting away with something!

Little Girl with a curl

"There was a little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, she was very, very good - but when she was bad, she was horrid!"

This little 3-year-old also had freckles across her nose and cheekbones. I did not like them at all! My Uncle Mike liked them and told me so. I didn't hate those freckles quite as much after that. The gene for freckles came down from my dad who was sandy haired, light complected with lots of freckles!

The Stalker

I never heard of a "stalker" when I was growing up. Mom warned me that there were people who did "bad" things but I never felt that I knew anyone who was like that. That changed, however.

I had seen a very tall, very skinny boy who was a year or two ahead of me in school. I saw him at school but never anywhere else. I noticed him because he was so very tall. He dropped out of school, probably after 8th grade.

Mom was baby sitting across the street sometime after I began working at Rexall. It was evening. I was home alone so I pulled the shades in all the rooms of the house. (This is what families did at night - pulled the shades and closes the curtains.) I was reading in the living room when, suddenly, I heard someone scratch on the screen. It realy started me. I didn't know what to do.

I got up and walked into the front bedroom. I turned on the light and picked up a hairbrush from the dresser. I brushed my hair while I thought about what I should do. I was alone and afraid and we did not have a telephone. I finally decided I would go open the front door.

I turned on the porch light and yanked the door open! Then I heard these running footsteps beside the house. Can you imagine how it sounds when a very tall person runs? It is a sound I can still remember in my mind. I did catch a glimpse of the boy as he ran away. I did go across the street and stayed with Mom until she could come home.

Several weeks later I worked the Sunday evening shift at the Rexall. Mom came to pick me up. When we got to our kitchen door - it was open! Every burner on the gas range was turned on. We checked each room in the house. We found all the dresser drawers in the front bedroom were dumped on the floor! It was very scary.

I don't remember whether he bothered again. We did talk to the county attorney. He came over and we stood on the porch to talk - it was summertime. I really don't know what happened after that. The boy may have been sent away.

The rest of the story - as Paul Harvey always said - Many years later this boy was living with his aunt in my little hometown. For some reason, he got angry at his aunt and stabbed her to death. Then he did spend a number of years locked up.

I remembered my fear for many years. His obituary in the hometown paper freed me from my fear of him.