Boy, nothing like having someone pressure you to start BLOGGING! But I am here visiting my niece in Los Alamos and she says I have to Blog. I guess that means she is tired of hearing me talk....
She says this is addicting. Great!
Ok. I am 65 and I suppose I should write my stories down before I forget them like my 86 year old sister (whom I am traveling with) has.
Early memories...
I am the youngest of 10 kids. My parents were quite a bit older than me. I use to tell people they were my grandparents, but then everyone started asking my parents what happened to my real parents. So, I stopped that.
Being the youngest child made me sit quietly back and watch the rest of my brothers and sisters make
their mistakes and I would think, "Don't do that."
Every night my 3 older sisters would take turns washing dishes. One of my sisters was always thinking of other things that she had to do instead of doing dishes. On this particular night, she wanted to visit her friend across the street. Even at my early age, I knew she would be in trouble if my dad saw the dishes had not been done. I followed her across the street and reminded her that she needed to do the dishes or Daddy would be really angry. I remembered my sister laughing and telling me Daddy was a pussycat and he would never be angry with her. So, we casually walked back home laughing without a care in the world. My sister started washing the dishes and was. She was drying a cup and throwing it in the air to my amazement that she could throw a cup so high and not drop it. Daddy walks in and yells at my sister about where she had been when she was suppose to be washing dishes earlier. My sister was caught quite by surprise and forgot the cup that was falling through space. What was most astonishing to me was that the cup happened to fall right onto my Daddy's bare foot. That was a real blessing as it turned out because my dad started bouncing around holding onto his foot and forgot why he was yelling at my sister.
She says this is addicting. Great!
Ok. I am 65 and I suppose I should write my stories down before I forget them like my 86 year old sister (whom I am traveling with) has.
Early memories...
I am the youngest of 10 kids. My parents were quite a bit older than me. I use to tell people they were my grandparents, but then everyone started asking my parents what happened to my real parents. So, I stopped that.
Being the youngest child made me sit quietly back and watch the rest of my brothers and sisters make
their mistakes and I would think, "Don't do that."
Every night my 3 older sisters would take turns washing dishes. One of my sisters was always thinking of other things that she had to do instead of doing dishes. On this particular night, she wanted to visit her friend across the street. Even at my early age, I knew she would be in trouble if my dad saw the dishes had not been done. I followed her across the street and reminded her that she needed to do the dishes or Daddy would be really angry. I remembered my sister laughing and telling me Daddy was a pussycat and he would never be angry with her. So, we casually walked back home laughing without a care in the world. My sister started washing the dishes and was. She was drying a cup and throwing it in the air to my amazement that she could throw a cup so high and not drop it. Daddy walks in and yells at my sister about where she had been when she was suppose to be washing dishes earlier. My sister was caught quite by surprise and forgot the cup that was falling through space. What was most astonishing to me was that the cup happened to fall right onto my Daddy's bare foot. That was a real blessing as it turned out because my dad started bouncing around holding onto his foot and forgot why he was yelling at my sister.
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