Dirt...it was my favorite thing to play with when I was a little girl. I would draw dream houses in the dirt and furnish them with a big stick, drawing in the dirt. Yes, we were poor...but I didn't know it.
Queen...I was Senior Prom Queen. Couldn't tell it now, but I went to a very small rural school that had less than 500 children K-12, and knew every one of them. Graduated in a class of 21...great bunch of people.
Christmas tree trimmer...worked on a Christmas tree farm. In July and August, the hottest months of the year, the trees needed to be trimmed. It was hard, hot work and mostly girls did the trimming. We wore our bikinis, yes, bikinis, and took to the trees. Got the best tan that year because we would start at sunup and work til 1 or 2 pm, then we all went to the falls for a dip in the cool water. Got buzzed by some pilots for a few days...cannot imagine what went through their heads. There was no close place to land either. Hardest part was when you had to shimmy up the tree to pull the top over so it could be cut...they were so prickery and sticky.
Wedding Bell Blues...fell down....no...was pulled down the 20 something steps of the church I got married in, by the man I just married, he fell on top of me at the bottom. Had taken a mouth full of rice when I tried to scream "Stop"(they threw rice in those days, and I am so glad they don't throw it anymore). Anyway, I was trying to spit the rice out of my mouth and unplug my throat, and all our guests thought I had landed on my mouth, and was spitting teeth. At the reception they all learned we had gone to the hospital, (to see my Uncle John who couldn't come to the wedding) and thought for a while I was seriously hurt. I was...but didn't realize it for another 26 years.
Stripper. What can I say. I was for several years the headliner and stripper at a local tv station during their annual auction. One year I stripped well over 3000 times all by myself, and for a few more years I was in charge of all the strippers. Before computers took over the world everything was done by hand. The heavy papers were cut to size for me, then they had to be lined, so the strippers could do their work and keep everything straight. We had to put on the donated objects number, a brief description, and the retail price, and it had to be readable when photographed by cameramen. Now a computer whips them out as soon as an object is cataloged for them...Had a wonderful time at WKNO, met some great people and have many happy memories, and oh...my main hobby then was calligraphy.
Goose. Never shelter wild animals in your garage while you are trying to rescue them. While living in Chicago, a somewhat tame goose, well it had its wings clipped, came waddling down our street, at the same time the children were getting home from school. Because geese bite hard, and they were all small children, and I didn't know anyone that had a goose for a pet, I managed to get the goose in my garage until I could locate the owner or have an agency pick it up. Inside my garage was our neighbors huge black sailboat, and our cute little red Pontiac something. It was already after 3pm and since I was unable to find anything out...I just left the goose in the garage with food and water until the next day when my husband would get home from out-of-town, and help me catch the goose and take it somewhere where it would be happy. The next day came, my city husband was afraid of biting geese, and our cute little red Pontiac was gray and white with green splashes of color, there was no red to be found. The goose had a blanked thrown over it after about an hour chase in the garage. We drove the goose to the bird sanctuary, and the Pontiac to the nearest carwash. No One, I mean No One would get close to our little Pontiac. As I recall, my ex-husband stayed mad for about a week, and I thought I was a rescuer.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
