There so many things we get to do as we grow up and then old. Some memories make a dent in my brain and then have to be expressed. Here:
*In first grade, my teacher kept me after school until it was dark because I refused, and I mean refused
to draw a turkey with its tail feathers up and all different colors. I
drew turkey after turkey, each time with its tail feathers down. I
kept telling her that 1) only male turkeys raised their tail feathers,
and 2) they were speckled brown. Seeing wild turkeys most of my six
years, I knew this to be the truth. She finally gave up.
*I once said “Son of a bitch” to my sixth grade teacher. A boy dared me to say it. You see, I really
didn’t know it was swearing. My brothers, father, and grandfather said
that phrase several times a day. I didn’t get in trouble, but it was a
close call. She asked what-did-you-say? I thought quickly, responded "some of it itches".
*My
brother Robert could persuade me to do almost anything. Once he talked
me into cleaning a catfish he had caught. I had cleaned other fish,
but they had scales. The catfish had to be skinned. I did it, but
never again.
*In sixth grade (obviously a big year) a kind neighbor discovered that I
loved art. She painted in oil, producing lovely stuff. One day she
showed up at our farm house with all sorts of almost empty tubes of oil
paint, a variety of brushes, and a “How to Paint” book by John/Jon
Gnagy. Her kindness set my love for art on fire. I will never forget
her.
*When
I was a young mother with three children, my husband’s family owned
real estate company purchased a hotel in Ireland. We sold everything we
owned, packed up the rest into a crate the side of a small garden shed,
and moved to County Cork. For three + years, we owned and operated the
property along with my brother-in-law, Patrick. Oh, the stories I
could tell on that.
*When
we returned to California from Ireland, I started/re-started teaching
at the age of 37. Everyone assumed I was very experienced and a ‘master
teacher’. It was the steepest and most exciting learning curve I have
ever had to do. I loved it.
It pays to be a woman who can become a sassy and strong lady. The stories go on.
