horse

Old Wives Tales and Periods

imageI knew there was some kind of big, stupid mystery even before my “sometimes” friend Margaret Green broke the news to me in the fourth grade.  My grandma had started badgering me not to go barefoot and had taken to sneaking peeks at my underwear when she was sorting laundry.

This is some interesting information and dire warnings I was given regarding health care of young ladies after the onset of puberty. My maternal grandmother hissed these warnings at me, though she was hazy on rationale  Girls should never go barefoot or get their feet wet after they go into puberty. (She made no mention of how I was to wash my feet or bathe.). I must never bathe or get my head wet or ride a horse during my period.  She offered as proof the fact that when my grandpa’s sister was only sixteen, she was riding a horse just before she got ready to take a job as a teacher in her first school.  She got caught in a rainstorm while she was having her period and was soaked to the skin.  She got galloping pneumonia and died before daybreak.  I was never sure if all these variables had to be included for the situation to be deadly.  Perhaps if she had been fifteen, walking to her job as a clerk in a store while she was having her period and broke out in chicken pox, she might have escaped with only a few scars on her face.

Also, Grandma warned me young girls shouldn’t ever go swimming.  “Never?”  I was appalled.

Then she told me of a stubborn cousin of hers who went swimming all the time.  “Even when she was expecting!  Everyone of her kids had epileptic fits!”

Mother had her own ridiculous rules about hygiene.  Hair could only be washed once a week, and never during you period.  That was a disaster for us with our oily hair.  I’d try to slip around and wash it more often, but she watched us.  She insisted on giving us hideous home perms.  They were awful!  I was so glad when Mother had to much on her mind to to to keep up with trying to enforce all her mindless rules.

Mothers Day Pinto

Mother was a slow learner.  It took her forever to learn that Daddy was not the thoughtful kind of guy who would ever surprise her with lovely gifts and gestures.  He was more the kind of guy who felt sorry for himself when she got her feelings hurt or got mad.  After all, he was pretty sure he’d gotten her something last year, for her birthday or Christmas, one or the other.  What had she done with that eggbeater?

This year was going to be different.  Virgil Hughes had a nice Pinto horse.  It was a good deal since it “wasn’t broke” yet.  Nobody really wanted it since it stomped Euless and broke his leg, but Daddy was sure he could make a fine riding horse out of it.  Kathleen was scared of horses, but she’d get over that.  If she didn’t, he’d ride it.  Daddy stopped off on the way home from work the Friday before Mother’s Day to pick it up.  It was kicking the side rails when he pulled in.  He called Mother out to see her beautiful Pinto and she hit the ceiling.  “Of all the things I need, you come bringing in a horse.  We need another useless animal to feed like I need a hole in the head.”  She stormed in, furious.

Daddy stomped off, putting the horse in the pasture.  “Kathleen didn’t appreciate anything he did for her.  It would be a cold day in Hell before he brought her anything else!

Happy Mother’s Day!

Fluffy, the Species Confused Chicken

My little sisters, Connie and Marilyn, raised their baby chick, Fluffy, in a cloth-lined box in the living room. He spent his nights in their room, going to sleep as soon as they covered his sweet, little head. He woke them early in the morning, peeping around looking for them. Cleaning up after him wasn’t really a big problem while he was a tiny chick. Continue reading →

New Babies

We had a family meeting and Daddy said we were going to have to start helping Mother just because she was having a baby.  He tried to make it sound like something great.  I wanted to tell him I didn’t want a baby or chores, but was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.  I had to dust, set the table, and fold towels.    I would be glad when Mother had that Continue reading →

Good Old Champ (A Children’s Story)

Horse and HatI knew Champ, our horse loved me, since he trotted up to the fence every time he saw me. I carefully held my hand flat and let him snuffle up goodies with his velvety muzzle.  My big sister said it he’d love anyone who slipped him apples, sugar and carrots, but she was just being mean. I didn’t tell my friends and cousins the trick, so they were scared he’d bite them.  Before long, I found he could help himself to treats.

My grandmother had written that she was coming for Easter and bringing Easter outfits with hats and shoes.  I didn’t hear much except the part about outfits with hats and shoes.  I was thrilled!  I had been dying for a cowboy outfit with red boots, red hat, and shiny pistols in a holster  but Mother said I needed other things worse.  Good old Grandma knew what really mattered!  I was up before daylight waiting for her.  Breakfast and lunch dragged by…..…..nothing.  I was getting more and more upset.  Maybe Grandma wasn’t coming.  Maybe she got lost.  Just before dark an old black car crept up.  We all flew out to the car, trying to get to her first.  “What did you bring me?  What did you bring me?” Mother tried to shush us, but nobody listened. Grandma was slow getting out of the car and slower getting in the house.  No wonder it took her so long to get here.  We got busy and helped with her bags and a big brown box from the back seat.  There was plenty of room in there for a cowboy suit and lots of other good stuff.

Even though we were dying, Mother made us wait till Grandma went to the bathroom, got a cup of coffee, and caught her breath.  She was slow at that, too.  Finally, Grandma got the scissors and started cutting the strings on the box.  She was so old her fingers shook.  It took forever.  I could have ripped into that box in a second, but would Mother let me?   Noooooo!

Just before I died of old age, Grandma started pulling things out of the box.  I knew she always saved the best for last.  I got a gumball machine full of gumballs.  That was great!!  Next she pulled out a baby doll and handed it to me. Grandma couldn’t seem to remember I hated dolls, but I tried to be nice about it.  All baby dolls were good for was burying when we played funeral.  I tried to be patient till she got to the cowboy outfit.  Finally, she hit bottom.  She made me and my sister close our eyes and hold out our hands for our outfits.

I peeked just a little and was furious!!  This was a horrible joke!  We were both holding fancy Easter dresses, big ridiculous straw hats with flowers, and shiny white shoes.  I hated them! Where were my cowboy boots and guns? My mother gave me a dirty look before I could tell Grandma what I really thought.  I hated dresses, but Mother made us put on our Easter getups and pose next to the fence for a picture. It was hot. The clothes were scratchy. We looked stupid.  My prissy big sister kept dancing around like a ballerina while the mean kids from next door laughed at us across the fence.  I’d  be dealing with them later.  Boy was I disgusted.

Mother was as slow as Grandma.  While I stood there like a dope waiting for her to take that darn picture, Champ came up behind me expecting a treat.  We both got a big surprise.  I felt a big scrunchy chomp on my head. The strap on my hat stretched tight, snapped, and that horrible hat with the flowers was gone.  I flipped around, and Champ was eating my Easter hat.  He still had straw and flowers sticking out of his mouth, but I could see he didn’t think too much of it either.  He was the best horse ever.  I never had to wear that hat again.  He did love me!