Chapter 5: Growing Up

Chapter 5: Growing Up

Chapter 5: Growing Up

Chapter 5: Growing Up

Growing up was quite a chore. I was always a very sensitive child who easily cried. My mother said that I could turn those tears off and on like a faucet. I was also not inclined to stay overnight anywhere except with my grandmother on the farm, that is with my mothers's mother. Once I was taken to stay in Detroit with my other grandmother. She lived with my two aunts in an apartment. As I stood looking out the winbdow seeing only neatly trimmed little yards and missing my country woods and orchard, I remember my eyes welling up with tears. An uncle who lived near by was kind enough to drive me home to before the designated day. I did not ever want to go to the girl scout camp nor stay overnight at a friends' house. When evening came, I needed to see one of my parents or my beloved grandmother.

When I entered grade seven, we were moved from the elementary building to the high school building where we changed classes for various susbjects. It was a little less of a controlled enviornment and I began to "sow my oats". For each teacher who checked you for talking or other misconduct, your conduct grade fell one letter for the quarter. I brought home a "D" in conduct. My mother asked the reason for this and I replied: "I have too many teachers."

My good friend, Dottie, and I had many fun times together while our mothers talked. We would write stories using names of candy bars, soaps, cars or other categories. Each category would be a different story. They would read something like: " One day O HENRY was walking down the MILKY WAY when he found a BUTTERNUT." Then we would compare versions and laugh for hours. It was an excellent imagination building tool.

When my cousin Butch would be visiting, we would go into my bedroom, close the door and go out the window in order to "lose him". Running into the woods, we would bury treasures or swing on the vines like Tarzan.

My father played a game where he would hid something like an Easter egg and then write a riddle about where it could be found. This was great fun. I especially remember one egg which he taped to the bottom of a living room table which had a circle in the center and an octogonal border. The riddle was something like: "Round in the middle, square on the edge, when you stand on your head, see the egg on its ledge." This game also taught me creativity and to love solving puzzles.

Another friend, Pat, was my jacks and dancing partner. We would sit for hours playing jacks: regulars, ups and downs,around the world, in the basket, flying dutchmen, over the fence, double bounce and no bounce. Pat's parents owned a near-by restaurant whicih had a small dance floor and a jute box. My parents were excellent dancers and taught me how to dance. Pat and I would jitterbug on the dance floor to our hearts content. My favority song was "Glowworm" Thus from an early age my love of dance was imbedded. My mother had been a professional dancer and taught me the Irish jig and some Russian steps. So it seemed quite natureal to me that at seventy I would be line dancing with a group of seniors.

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