dailyprompt

Boring

What bores you?

I am rarely bored. At home, I have my reading, writing l, crochet, sewing, gardening, and dogs to occupy me. If I have to wait for an appointment, I thoroughly enjoy people watching. I am easily occupied.

My mother taught me a very valuable lesson about boring when I complained of boredom as a kid. She loaded me with enough chores I never complained of being bored again. Valuable lesson!

OJ and Sprite

What is your favorite drink?

First thing in the morning I fill my cup with lots of ice and top it off with OJ and Sprite. I sip along on that all day, I usually add to it mid afternoon. That keeps me hydrated.

Favorite People

Who are your favorite people to be around?

I am very fortunate to be retired so I am only around Bud most days. If I go out or have guests, it is people I care about.

Best shoes

Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where they’ve taken you.

My est shoes are old, soft soft that take me anywhere I need to go.

Rocky the Rocking Horse

Share one of the best gifts you’ve ever received.

This is Rocky. Santa brought me this lovely fellow for Christmas. He was the biggest thrill of my life. We must have bounced thousands of miles together. In my mind, he transformed into a gorgeous black stallion when I climbed aboard.

Patriotic

Are you patriotic? What does being patriotic mean to you?

Yes. I am patriotic but I definitely not MAGA. I love this country and freedom. However, I am appalled to see the words patriotism and Christianity used to promote racism, hatred, and exclusion.

Broken Law

Have you ever unintentionally broken the law?

I’m sure I’ve broken traffic laws: speeding, driving the wrong way down a one-way street, that sort of thing. I carry a shovel in my truck and have dug up plants on the side of the road. The worst thing I did was go in an abandoned house and take a battered old sign that said “Plant Emporium.”

Yes, I have broken the law.

How Did I Get From There to Here?

If there were a biography about you, what would the title be?

Warning: use of the N word is used in context in this story.

I often wonder how I became the person I am.  I was born in 1950, a Baby Boomer, in the Deep South.  I was raised Southern Baptist by a very devout mother and a father who attended as often as his conscience prompted him.  The influence in our home was definitely ultra-conservative and racist. Everything was segregated.  Water fountains and business entrances were marked white and colored.  Should a black person come to our house, they knocked on the back door, 

I never knew a single black person by name till I met Rosie, a black lady who occasionally cleaned for Mother.  One day Rosie told me she had a little girl just my age, three years old,  I was enchanted, desperate to know more and perhaps play with her little girl.

Innocently, I blurted out, “Is she a nigger?” As young as I was, the hurt look on Rosie’s face showed me I’d said something horrible.

Kindly but firmly, she corrected me. “She’s the same color as me but it’s wrong to say nigger. Say colored.” Rosie was as kind as ever afterward. I was so glad she didn’t stay mad.

Not too long afterward, Rosie had no one to keep Cynthia, so she had to bring her along. I was ecstatic to get to play with her all day. I couldn’t wait to share news of my new friend the second Daddy walked in the door. Rosie had crossed the line. I never saw her or sweet little Cynthia again.

I pray we never go back to that hate-filled time.

At My Age

What were your parents doing at your age?

My dad died at fifty-seven so he never attained my age. My mother was healthy and happy living on her own.