Mom's Car

Mom wanted her own car. She had use of Daddy's car whenever it was available but she decided she wanted her own. The thing was that she was a homemaker and did not have an outside job. She wanted it to be all hers as in she made the money and paid for it.

Not having a job outside the home meant no money. She could not get a job because she would not have regular availability of the car. What to do? Daddy told her he would get her a car and she adamantly refused.

My inventive mother decided to collect refundable bottles and cans to see if she could raise the money on her own. She collected all the bottles that her children were too lazy to return to the store. She regularly visited our houses to pick them up. She also scouted along the streets of the city and picked up bottles and cans that people had littered the area with.

She would take them to the grocery store and cash them in. The money she received was placed in a bank account she had opened specifically as her auto account. It added up surprisingly fast. So as she still collected the bottles she began shopping for a car.

It took a while but she finally found one that fit her criteria. It was compact but had a roomy trunk. It was a used car but ran well. That was the only contribution Daddy was allowed to make. He checked out the car to make sure it was in good condition for her.

It was not a car I would have chosen. It looked like an old lady's car but it was what she wanted. The paint was an ugly color. I do not even remember what it looked like but I do remember it was ugly. But Mom was happy with it.

She had enough money from her pop bottles to pay cash for the car. She had enough left over for insurance and license plates AND a full tank of gas. She kept collecting bottles for a long time to pay for anything she needed for the car and maybe a little extra something personal for herself.

Mom and I were involved with a small company in which we taught people to paint on fabrics and metals. The hope was that the people would enjoy it so much they would purchase the paint and other supplies from us. We did moderately well.

I used the money I made to buy things for my family. Mom reinvested in product. She had paints to be used with brushes, thinner, remover, brushes, and spray paints. She bought things by the case and got really good deals.

The company that we were affiliated with went out of business. Oh well. But Mom had all these paints lying around.

As I said her car was an ugly color. Mom decided that since she had all this spray paint she would paint her car. She got the necessary items like masking tape to help cover windows and chrome and got the car ready to paint. Then she chose her color.

She had several cases of phosphorescent blue so she chose that. Being the capable and artistic person she was she did a good job with her painting. The car looked great.

My parents did not have a garage. No one in that neighborhood did. They all parked on the street in front of their houses. My parents' bedroom also happened to be in the front of the house.

The first night Mom parked her car in front of the house after her paint job they noticed a strange glow out front when they went to bed. It was an eerie bluish light. Aliens? UFO? Nope. Mom's fluorescent blue car. Daddy got a good chuckle out of that.

Being in the big city has definite drawbacks. One is the amount of crime. Often the people committing the crimes tried to elude police by hiding in residential areas where it was easier to conceal themselves from the authorities. If the crime was serious enough the police would call out the helicopter to help them search.

The helicopter has a strong searchlight that they play over the area. Often they can see things that are not visible from the ground. It also illuminates areas that the ground police might not be able to see well. It is a good tool and being in the big city we saw that helicopter quite often.

One night Mom and Daddy were asleep when the helicopter began to make so much noise that it woke them up. Daddy got up to see what was going on. After all you do not want criminals loose in your neighborhood. Almost immediately he told Mom to get dressed and come out front which she did.

Outside were several squad cars and the helicopter hovering very low above the street.  They had been chasing someone when the helicopter spotted this glowing blue object and reported it. Squad cars were immediately summoned to the area. There sat Mom's car.

After a discussion about why on earth the car was glowing in the dark and why on earth anyone would paint it to do that, everyone had a big laugh. The police and their helicopter went on their ways. Mom and Daddy went back to bed.

Mom had that car for several years. Because it was a used car when she got it problems eventually were troublesome. She kept it in repair as long as she could but she finally had to let go of it. She had other cars after that but never any that she loved as much.

Friday The 13th

Recently we were supposed to celebrate Defy Superstition Day. This was brought to my attention by my online friend John At Reflections. If you click on the link you will see his post on the subject.

I am fascinated by superstitions. I sort of collect them for my own amusement.

My family has a Friday the 13th superstition all our own. My mother had a terrible (but funny) day and we never let her live it down. Let me tell you all about it.

My aunt and uncles went to school in a one room schoolhouse in the country. On the last day of school there was a picnic and we always went. The more the merrier, you know. This year it was held on Friday, the 13th.

We set out for the picnic with Mom at the wheel. Daddy had to work. Mom was running late as usual so she was driving a bit faster than she should have. She came to the top of a hill and saw the police car at the bottom. Instead of slowing down she panicked and stopped. When she restarted and drove down the hill she was pulled over. Luckily the cop recognized the car. Daddy was the town marshal and worked with the state police on occasion. Mom received a warning to be more careful and we went on our way.

The car was low on gas so Mom pulled in to a station along the highway. In the 1950's the pumps often had big glass globes on the top with the name of the gasoline company on them. They were pretty. When Mom pulled in for gas she realized that she was too far away from the pump. She pulled forward a bit and then backed up a bit closer... whoops! a little too close.She bumped the pump. That beautiful glass globe began to wobble, wobble, wobble, wobble... it seemed to be slowing and coming to a stop. Whew. Then it just fell right off and smashed into millions of pieces.

The man at the station was very kind. Of course we did not have to pay for it; it happens all the time. (Right!) We got our 2 dollars worth of gas. That filled it up then. And we were off again.

We turned off the highway to the county road on the way to the picnic. We were merrily driving along and Mom missed the turn onto the next county road that led to the school. Not to worry... she just backed up so she would be in position to turn. Somehow we ended up in the ditch. Some of the ditches in Nebraska were like valleys. We were rear end down with the nose of the car pointing up. Now what was she to do?

Here we were with a car full of children sitting in a deep ditch with no chance she could drive it out. As luck would have it a neighboring farmer came by on his tractor. Mom waved him down and he of course was happy to help. He was so happy to help that he could not stop laughing as he hooked the chain up to the car and his tractor. Laughing as he had Mom steer the car while his tractor strained to pull us out of that ditch. He was so happy when we were completely clear of the ditch that he kept laughing. Mom had made him so happy that he was still laughing as he drove off.

Off we went again. Mom successfully made the turn. Believe it or not we made it safely to the picnic. Of course we were extremely late but there were still a few games left to be played. After that Friday, the 13th, was a day that we no longer let Mom drive. As a matter of fact we would not even let her in the car.

This is the way many superstitions start. Got any of your own?

Long As I Can Grow It, My Hair

Our hair is something we all think about. We wash it, comb it, style it, color it, or wish we still had it.

Genetics plays a big part in our hair. In my own case many of the men from my mother's side are bald like my great-grandfather. All of the women have lots and lots of hair.

Two of my brothers are bald. One has been since high school.

My youngest brother is only five years older than my oldest son so they have always been quite close. My son has more hair than two people should have. He realized suddenly one day how bad my brother felt about being bald and stopped teasing him about it.

The other brother makes the jokes before anyone else can. He is fond of saying things like, "God made a few perfect heads… on the others he put hair!" or "This is not a bald spot….it’s a solar panel for my brain."

My oldest brother had hair like my son. As he got older his turned the prettiest white.

My mother's mother had the most beautiful black hair. She wore it long but kept it pinned up to keep it out of her way. As a farmer's wife she was busy all day. She cooked all meals on a wood stove so that alone was a problem if hair was hanging loose.

After she suffered a series of strokes in her 60's she gained a few, very few, strands of gray in her hair. She also began wearing it short because she was no longer able to care for it otherwise.

My father's mother had the most beautiful silver hair. Many women go to the hairdresser to try to have their hair colored to look that way. They inevitably end up with blue hair.

Mom's hair was dark but began to gray as she aged. She colored it to a lighter color than her natural dark hair. Eventually she let it grow out natural because it began to turn more white than dull gray.

My mother had a mole on one side of her head. The hair that grew from that mole was very white. It gave her a pretty stylish white streak in her dark hair. When her hair became white that streak was dark brown. Imagine that.

Daddy had dark hair when I was very young. In his late twenties his hair had become that salt and pepper color. He always wore it short. Somehow that seemed to hide a lot of the gray so that he still had what looked to be brown hair when he died.

Both of my sisters have naturally curly hair. One has almost kinky curls. She straightens it to make it manageable. The other has hair that falls into waves. All she has to do is wash it and brush it. She looks like she spent hours at the beauty shop.

My hair on the other hand is straight as a string with absolutely no body at all. The saving grace is that there is a lot of it. That can also be a curse but I will accept it because it does give a small amount of volume.

I wore my hair long as a child and young woman. The straightness came in handy for that. I was often referred to as "Morticia" as in Morticia Addams from the Addams Family.

You will often see people with long hair tuck it behind their ears to keep it our of their faces. My mother hated that . She was constantly telling me that my ears were not handles.

My hair was a sable brown color and I am vain enough that I loved that color. Of course with age the color fades. And a little bit of gray seeps in. I inherited my maternal grandmother's genes for hair color. I am almost 69 years old and my hair is still mostly brown.

When we were having pictures taken for the yearbook my senior year of high school. My mother insisted that I wear my hair up for some reason. As you can see from my picture at the side here she got her way. I suppose she did not want to chance me tucking it behind my "handles".

Now that I am older I wear my hair shorter for reasons of vanity. Long hair tends to pull the focus of eyes down which makes a person look older. I know I am not young any more but I was blessed with youthful genes. My coloring is good and I have few wrinkles for a person of my age. I do not need help to look older.

My husband had hair the color of fresh straw. It was so pretty. When he was so sick before he died his hair turned gray. Beause of the chemo he lost a lot of it too.

I have four children. My oldest son had very dark hair. My second son and my daughter are blonde like their father. My third son has brown hair.

Whenever a new baby was born in the family my mother-in-law would ask what color the hair was.before she asked about anything else. She especially wanted a granddaughter with that carrot-y red color. She had two sons with that color but no daughters. She kept hoping but it never happened.

My oldest son is very gray now. He has been turning gray since he was quite young. My second son was always so blonde that it is hard to tell just how gray he is. He also wears his hair short but I think I see the tiniest bald spot right at the crown of his head. My third son seems to be keeping his color for now even though he is a grandfather. My daughter still has that pretty color she got from her father.

As for my grandchildren the boys keep their hair well-trimmed as is the style today. Brown and blonde are the colors. The girls have all had long hair. When my oldest granddaughter graduated from college she cut hers off. Her father was heartbroken.

My great-granddaughters are still just beginning to grow hair. It will be interesting to see if their parents keep their hair long.

Practical And Artistic

I have told you before that my mother was the most intelligent woman I have ever known. But perhaps she was the most talented too.

Mom planted a garden every year. In it she grew all the vegetables we could eat. Sometimes we did not plant corn because it takes up so much room to get a decent yield and it does tend to suck the nutrients from the soil. We did not usually plant potatoes because again they took a lot of space to make it worth while.

Her garden always had a variety of flowers. And lots of zinnias. She liked zinnias because they come in such a wide variety of colors and sizes.

If we did not have fruit trees Mom and Daddy would buy bushels of fruit when the farmers brought them to town. Most fruits were not available unless they were in season back then.

When things grew and ripened we had salads, soups, and stews with all those fresh foods. Fresh vegetables with supper every day.

But there was way too much for us to eat while it was fresh. Mom canned a lot. A day might be devoted to canning tomatoes for instance. Then green beans. You get the idea.

The fresh fruit was also canned. We had jars of fruit all winter. But better than that she made jellies, jams, and fruit butters. All delicious on toast.

Cucumbers as well as several other things like watermelon rinds became homemade pickles. Homemade are the very best kind and Mom's were definitely the best of the best.

The flowers were pretty in the garden and other spots around the yard. But Mom turned them into beautiful arrangements to keep the inside of the house pretty too.

She made homemade cottage cheese when I was smaller. It was the only kind I would eat for years. She even rendered lard if we butchered a hog.

Most of our clothes were made by Mom. With so many children and so little money it was cheaper to buy material and make them.

Mom would hold a newspaper up to measure me for the size. Then she would decide on the style and cut out a pattern from the paper.

She made dresses and blouses and skirts and shirts. She tried making blue jeans for the boys one year but decided that store bought wore better so she bought the boys jeans for school.

My favorite winter coat of all time was the one Mom made from Daddy's Navy pea coat. It was stylish and the warmest coat I ever had.

When I was quite young Mom started to make Christmas ornaments. We had a lot of ornaments that we had purchased but she liked to make things.

She learned how to fold strips of paper to make an ornament. Then she would dip them in wax and they would hold their shapes forever. A little bit of food coloring in the wax gave us several different colors.

We used pine cones, glitter, and paint to make decorations. Mom always gave us projects to do too. I think she believed we were all as artistic as she was. I definitely was not but I had fun.

Mom would buy a large amount of those shiny silky Christmas balls. With beads and straight pins and maybe a little rick-rack she would make the prettiest ornaments.

My mother could draw too. She liked a still life the best.

She liked to paint as well and did some very nice pictures. She used both oils and watercolors.

The year she was experimenting with charcoals she drew pictures of our teachers for us to give them at Christmas.

Mom was also an author. She had several short stories published in women's magazines when I was a child. Her writing style was a little too "flowery" for my taste. Mom loved adverbs and adjectives which was the style from when she was younger. But her stories were good.

As you can see a lot of my mother's artistry was put to use for practical purposes. But she was still able to express herself and that was important to her. We were the beneficiaries of it all.

Matriculation

My mother was the valedictorian of her graduating high school class. I told you she was intelligent. Of course I delighted in telling her that it was not too difficult. There were three students in her graduating class.

I did not fare as well as she did. There were almost 1000 graduates in my class. My grades were high but there were other people who were awarded the honors.

Both of us married the same year we graduated and that was the end of our educations. Mom was so disappointed that I did not go to college. I was too. But at that time being married meant you were supposed to be a wife and in due time a mother.

So time went on. My mother had seven children me being the oldest. She nurtured us and we grew to be adults with families of our own. I had four children who of course were a bit younger than hers.

One day I stopped by my mother's house after I had picked the children up from school. She looked at me and said, "I went and signed up for college today. You need to go tomorrow."

I had no choice. Mom told me to do it so I did as did my youngest sister.

The three of us ended up with several classes together. Because we had been out of school for some time we needed the 110 classes. They were above entry level classes but below the more advanced classes. So English 110, Algebra 110, etc.

We were able to ride together for most of our classes which was nice because I did not have a car at the time. When I had a class that one of the others did not I had to take the bus.

One of our classes (and our favorite) was an English class. It was quite basic dealing with grammar and punctuation as well as some writing. Often the instructor would write something on the board with no capitalization or punctuation and have us write it correctly.

Sometimes he gave us a topic and had us write about it for say 20 minutes. Then he would have us read them to the class. It was interesting to see the different ways of looking at a simple topic.

I began thinking I would major in computer sciences. I cannot begin to tell you how boring I find flow charts. I switched to accounting and business management.

I am a born paper pusher. I would be perfectly happy with a job that required sorting and filing.  At any rate I began to do some research (a little late don't you think?) and realized that the whole area was glutted with accountants and unemployed accountants.

It was about that time that my husband left for good. I had four children and I needed to bring in more money to support them. I dropped out of college.

Once my children were older I went back to school. By then I changed courses again. I enrolled in a Natural Resources package of classes.

These classes were taught by guest instructors who were employed by the federal government. Upon completion of these classes we would be qualified for a job with the government.

What appealed to me the most about this course was that there was such a wide variety of careers available. Of course you could go on to train to be a forest ranger or to work in a fish hatchery. Perhaps your tastes run more toward the sciences and research; there are opportunities.

The propaganda field appealed to me. It ranged from writing those informational pamphlets that you can send for in Pueblo, Colorado, to writing public service announcements, to coming up with promotional ideas for various governmental agencies.

Once again I had to leave school. I only had one Economics class left to get my degree but I could not stay. Now they have changed the requirements so I would have more than a semester of classes to complete now.

The one thing I do well is learn. I cannot do but boy can I learn. And I love it. My poor little brain is packed full of totally useless information.

One of my favorite things to do is surf the internet. I find a subject that interests me and I proceed to learn everything I can about it. That is my major form of entertainment.

So I have some college. I enjoyed it but I still had children to take care of. The kids always come first. Maybe someday I will take a few online classes. I will not go back to school because too many younger people need those seats so they can go on to more productive lives. But I will never stop learning.

Friday The Thirteenth

This past Friday was on the thirteenth day of the month. The dreaded Friday the Thirteenth. It is considered by many to be an unlucky day full of bad things both large and small that are just waiting to happen to any of us who let our guards down for even a moment.

I am not a superstitious person. At the same time I do wish on the first star of the evening or a shooting star. I wish on the rolling raindrop before it joins another. I cross my fingers for good luck and I have even been known to knock on wood. But I know that I make my own destiny for the most part.

On the other hand my mother seemed to have terrible luck. It happened mostly with cars or more specifically driving cars. We learned at a very young age that getting lost is an adventure.

Mom used to say that she had no sense of direction. She would be driving on a perfectly straight stretch of road and it would just pick itself up and be going another direction. So she would keep driving until she found something familiar. She would get her bearings and we would eventually reach our destination. Unless the road changed directions on her again.

Mom had been hearing a funny noise in her car. She told Daddy that it was a chirping noise. Finally on a day she was going to the grocery store he told her to honk when she got home. He would go to the door so she could pull the car back and forth and he could hear the noise. Then he would know what he needed to repair.

She came back from the store and honked. Daddy went to the door. Mom pulled her car back and forth. Daddy abruptly turned, closed the door, and came inside. He looked at me and said, "I can't stand watching your mother try to park the car!" He went into the closet and shut the door!

Mom's crowning glory as a driver came on Friday the Thirteenth. It was a warm spring day. My aunt and a couple of uncles attended a one room country school that was just down the road from my grandparents' farm. The school year was over and they were having their end-of-the-year picnic.

As it is in most small communities everyone was welcome to participate. The more the merrier.

There would be games like sack races and egg rolls. There would be lots of food. Everyone who came would bring a dish. It was a fun event.

Mom was running late as usual. She had four children to get ready. By the time she had the last one ready to go the first one would need a face and hands cleaning. Finally we were all in the car and very late.

Mom was driving faster than she should have. As she topped a hill she saw the police set up with radar at the bottom. What did she do? She stopped. Right there in the middle of the highway she stopped.

Of course the police noticed. Mom composed herself and drove down the hill. The police pulled her over. They knew who we were because they recognized the car. My father often drove it in his duties as town marshall.

The officer told Mom that she could have gradually slowed the car and they might not have noticed. He gave her a warning and sent us on our way.

The car needed gas and there was a gas station on the highway about halfway to our destination. Mom pulled into the station. This was happening in the 1950's. The gas pumps were big bulky things. Many had a huge glass globe on top with the company loge painted on.

Mom was a little too far away from the pump so she pulled forward a bit and backed up closer... a little too close. She bumped the pump.

She watched in horror as the glass globe began to wobble. Back and forth, back and forth, faster, faster, faster then it started to settle. As Mom started to breathe a sigh of relief it fell off and broke. The attendant assured her that it was not necessary for her to pay for it. We were off again.

We turned off the highway to a gravel covered road. We were getting closer. Still running late Mom was still driving a little faster than she should have. She drove right past the corner where we should turn to take us to the school.

She stopped and backed up to make the turn. Somehow we were suddenly in the ditch.

The ditches were deep, really deep. The back end of the car was at the bottom of the ditch and the front end was near the top of the ditch. Remember this was when all cars were made like tanks. It was a big old Buick.

Now what? We could not drive out. Even if the ditch was not so deep there was no way the car would just drive out.

As luck would have it a farmer from the area came by on his tractor. When he stopped trying to figure out how we got in the ditch that way and stopped chuckling he offered to pull us out.

He hooked us up to the tractor and with him and his tractor pulling and Mom driving the car they managed to get us out of the ditch. The car was not damaged so we went our separate ways.

We arrived at the school in time for some of the games. There was a contest to see who could kick their shoe the farthest. There were three-legged races. And all that scrumptious food. Great fun.

After that we did not allow Mom to drive on Friday the Thirteenth. If possible we kept her out of the cars. And it is a great family legend.

It's Just Like Riding A Bike

 My mother was a remarkable woman. When she decided she really wanted to do something she learned how to do it. She just put her mind to it and did it.

Mom grew up on a farm. When they went somewhere of any distance they rode horses. She rode a horse to school.

When Mom was about 50 she decided she wanted to learn how to ride a bicycle. She did not have the opportunity when she was a child. When her children had bicycles she was busy raising us and did not learn. So she never learned to ride a bike. Now she wanted to.

She went out and bought a bicycle. It was a bike made for a female which I felt was a small mistake. For some reason boys' bikes seem to balance better. But that was what she wanted.

Every day Mom went out for a period of time and attempted to learn to ride. Sometimes she had family there and sometimes not. But she kept at it.

Mom finally got to where she could ride a bit. She was wobbly but she was riding.

My sister had just bought a brand new car... not used but brand new. It was her first new car. She drove it over to show my parents because she was very proud.

Mom was practicing her bike riding but stopped to ooh and aah over the car. My sister went into the house to get a drink before Daddy came home from work so she could show him. Mom kept practicing.

Soon Mom came into the house. My sister was sitting in there where it was cool. Mom looked a little pale. Maybe this bicycle stuff was too much for her.

Mom had to tell my sister that she had been riding her bike in the street. She was doing so much better but was still not in complete control of the bicycle. Mom had a "little" accident.

My sister was concerned that Mom was hurt. No she was not.

She had been riding up and down the street. She was feeling pretty good. Then when she was almost finished she was in front of the house. She lost control and started to fall.

My sister's brand spanking new car broke the fall. The handlebars of the bike went right through the windshield of my sister's brand spanking new car.

Now when I heard about this the loving big sister in me took over. I laughed so hard that I almost could not breathe. I could not laugh at Mom... it just is not done.

Mom did learn how to ride and was a good rider after much practice. To my knowledge she never "took out" another car.

Mom's Car

Mom wanted her own car. She had use of Daddy's car whenever it was available but she decided she wanted her own. The thing was that she was a homemaker and did not have an outside job. She wanted it to be all hers as in she made the money and paid for it.

Not having a job outside the home meant no money. She could not get a job because she would not have regular availability of the car. What to do? Daddy told her he would get her a car and she adamantly refused.

My inventive mother decided to collect refundable bottles and cans to see if she could raise the money on her own. She collected all the bottles that her children were too lazy to return to the store. She regularly visited our houses to pick them up. She also scouted along the streets of the city and picked up bottles and cans that people had littered the area with.

She would take them to the grocery store and cash them in. The money she received was placed in a bank account she had opened specifically as her auto account. It added up surprisingly fast. So as she still collected the bottles she began shopping for a car.

It took a while but she finally found one that fit her criteria. It was compact but had a roomy trunk. It was a used car but ran well. That was Daddy's only contribution to the whole thing. He checked out the car to make sure it was in good condition for her.

It was not a car I would have chosen. It looked like an old lady's car but it was what she wanted. The paint was an ugly color. I do not even remember what it looked like but I do remember it was ugly. But Mom was happy with it.

She had enough money from her pop bottles to pay cash for the car. She had enough left over for insurance and license plates AND a full tank of gas. She kept collecting bottles for a long time to pay for anything she needed for the car and maybe a little extra something personal for herself.

Mom and I were involved with a small company in which we taught people to paint on fabrics and metals. The hope was that the people would enjoy it so much they would purchase the paint and other supplies from us. We did moderately well.

I used the money I made to buy things for my family. Mom reinvested in product. She had paints to be used with brushes, thinner, remover, brushes, and spray paints. She bought things by the case and got really good deals.

The company that we were affiliated with went out of business. Oh well. But Mom had all these paints lying around.

As I said her car was an ugly color. Mom decided that since she had all this spray paint she would paint her car. She got the necessary items like masking tape to help cover windows and chrome and got the car ready to paint. Then she chose her color.

She had several cases of phosphorescent blue so she chose that. Being the capable and artistic person she was she did a good job with her painting. The car looked great.

My parents did not have a garage. No one in that neighborhood did. They all parked on the street in front of their houses. My parents' bedroom also happened to be in the front of the house.

The first night Mom parked her car in front of the house after her paint job they noticed a strange glow out front when they went to bed. It was an eerie bluish light. Aliens? UFO? Nope. Mom's fluorescent blue car. Daddy got a good chuckle out of that.

Being in the big city has definite drawbacks. One is the amount of crime. Often the people committing the crimes tried to elude police by hiding in residential areas where it was easier to conceal themselves from the authorities. If the crime was serious enough the police would call out the helicopter to help them search.

The helicopter has a strong searchlight that they play over the area. Often they can see things that are not visible from the ground. It also illuminates areas that the ground police might not be able to see well. It is a good tool and being in the big city we saw that helicopter quite often.

One night Mom and Daddy were asleep when the helicopter began to make so much noise that it woke them up. Daddy got up to see what was going on. After all you do not want criminals loose in your neighborhood. Almost immediately he told Mom to get dressed and come out front which she did..

Outside were several squad cars and the helicopter hovering very low above the street.  They had been chasing someone when the helicopter spotted this glowing blue object and reported it. Squad cars were immediately summoned to the area. There sat Mom's car.

After a discussion about why on earth the car was glowing in the dark and why on earth anyone would paint it to do that everyone had a big laugh. The police and their helicopter went on their ways. Mom and Daddy went back to bed.

Mom had that car for several years. Because it was a used car when she got it problems eventually were troublesome. She kept it in repair as long as she could but she finally had to let go of it. She had other cars after that but never any that she loved as much.

A Letter To My Mother

Dear Mom,

Another Mother's Day has passed. I still miss you so much. I miss being able to call you to ask you to help me find just that right word that I am searching for. I miss knowing that you are just a phone call away.

I know that you loved me. You knew that I loved you. There was never a question of that. That is because of you. You were a steady cool flowing stream that made us all feel safe and secure, to paraphrase someone we both met.

It seemed that nothing could rattle you. You just took what came along and dealt with it.

I always tell everyone that you are the most intelligent person I have ever known. Of course you know that to be true. And you expected intelligence from me. Thank you.

Your grandchildren feel the same way. They all aspire to be like their grandparents. There is no higher praise. My great-grandchildren are fond of saying, "If Grandma doesn't know, nobody knows!" I simply tell them that their great-grandma would know more.

It is spring now. You would be busy planting your garden. All sorts of vegetables would grow to be canned and frozen. But you always left a large amount of space for your flowers. The more colorful the better.

I miss your companionship. We really enjoyed each other's company. Whether it was playing cards, attending a political function, or taking a trip we had great fun.

I have read a few books that I know you would like. I wish I could hand them to you so you could read them too.

I even miss you admonishing me "not to talk like that" whenever I said something you felt I should not say. You expected "more" from me. That is why I strove to be "more". I hope I have come close to what you wished for me.

Love, Emma

Road Trip

Mom and I often talked about places we would like to see. One day we were doing it again. I said that my ideal trip would be to drive and be able to stop whenever something caught my eye. No timetables, no set destination, just be able to see whatever looked interesting.

Mom said she had always wanted to do that too. She said, "Your father's idea of a trip was to get into the car, point it in that direction, and step on the gas. We would rush to get where we were going in the shortest amount of time possible. Then when we got there he wanted to turn around and go right back home." I remembered that about him.

The more we talked the more we realized that we needed to do this. Mom was retired so all we needed to do was find out when I could get some time off from work. We were going to drive through New England.

It was autumn when we went. Since we were driving to New England we thought the fastest way to get in that direction was to go through Canada to Niagara Falls.

I had not been to Niagara Falls for more than 15 years. Mom had been there a couple of times since then. We had gone as a family when I went.

Everything was different. The only things I recognized was the Ripley's Believe It Or Not Museum and of course the falls. If you have never been to Niagara Falls please treat yourself and go. My favorite spot is the observation platform right at the place where the water falls over and down. You cannot imagine the quantity of water that falls over in just an instant. It is hypnotizing. And the Maid of the Mist boat ride is a must.

Then we crossed back into the United States. I am unable to tell you what we saw in what order. My little brain does not work that well. So I will just give little bits.

Mom and I are both souvenir buyers. For me that tackier the better. Mom tries to get some little thing that is nice. So in each state we got something for each person we wanted to remember. We wanted them to have something that said which state they were from right on the item. Those things are not always easy to find. A note to retailers... there is a market for those kinds of things.

We intended to share driving duties. For the most part we did. But Mom could not see well to drive after dark and she would get nervous. I was a more experienced driver so I always drove in the evening.

The original plan was that we would find a rest stop or something most nights and just pull over to sleep. We soon realized that we could not get enough rest that way so we stayed in motels instead. It also gave us a chance to rearrange our souvenirs to make room for the new ones.

In the morning we would stop at a drive through donut place and get coffee or tea and some donuts to eat along the way. We usually had a nutritious meal in late afternoon.

We steered around large cities for the most part. We wanted to see the out-of-the-way places.

We saw a sign advertising a candy factory. We had to drive a little farther and turn around in order to find the road that took us there. It was a converted barn and they made all sorts of candy there. I love chocolate. Chocolate covered cherries are my favorite.

Santa used to leave chocolate covered cherries for my mother and me in our stockings. I bought a couple for each of us because they were huge. We each thought of Daddy as we ate them.

The one place we had agreed we wanted to visit was Salem, Massachusetts. It is where the Salem witch trials were held. Mom also wanted to treat me to a lobster dinner because lobster is one of my favorite foods.

Salem is located on the ocean. I did not know that. There is beautiful scenery there.  It is a small town so you can walk almost everywhere. Which is a good thing. There is a little circle of traffic in one spot. It is a complete circle. You must join the circle in order to transfer to a street to take you to where you wish to go. The problem is that once you get on the circle it is almost impossible to get off! What fun.

We visited the Salem Witch Dungeon Museum. You can learn about the Salem witch trials... what caused them, what happened, and why they ended. They even do a re-enactment of the trials. Of course there is a gift shop so you can buy souvenirs.

The House of the Seven Gables is in Salem. It is a gorgeous old house with seven distinct gables. It sits halfway down a short street. At the end of the street is a barrier. I am guessing that it is to keep people from driving right into the ocean. From reading the book written by Nathaniel Hawthorne I did not realize how close it is to the ocean. The House Of The Seven Gables is now a museum with, of course, a small gift shop.

At the other end of the street is another street. On that street is Ye Olde Pepper Companie. It is the oldest candy company in America. It is said that a woman was shipwrecked and arrived in Salem with nothing but her son. The townspeople learned that she knew how to make candy so they gave her a barrel of sugar. The Gibralters she made are said to be the first candies made and sold in America. They also make chocolates and other kinds of candies. It is a small shop but worth the visit.

We also wanted to visit with a witch. After all that is what Salem is famous for. I do not necessarily believe that one person has more sensory powers than another. At the same time I have had some strange things happen to me. I do like to do things like this but it is like going to an amusement park and having someone guess your age. It is all in fun.

Mom had her heart set on seeing the official witch of Salem so we went to her shop. She was out of town and everyone in the shop was busy. We would have to make an appointment. They said we might try one of the other shops.

We went into a tea room that sold amulets and that sort of thing. They also had on site witches. There was a male witch who had a little bit of free time. His name was Sean. He agreed to do a reading.

Mom went first so I wandered around the tea room looking at all the wonderful little treasures. She was in there for quite some time. She told me later some of the things Sean told her. For instance he told her she was satisfied with her life. He did not see her ever in another relationship with a man. She was not wealthy but she would be okay. She was content because she always felt like someone was with her caring for her. She would live a long life... 102 years of age were not out of the question. He did see some respiratory problems that may or may not also involve her heart.

He was so concerned about the respiratory thing that he gave her a stone. He said it had the properties to ease symptoms if she had breathing problems. She should keep it wrapped in silk or some soft material. If she felt discomfort she could take it out of the cloth and hold it to her chest. Mom used that stone for years. then one day she took it out of the cloth and held irt to her chest and the stone shattered in her hand.

When I went in to talk to him he said that I was very different from my friend. Now he had to know we were related because I look a lot like my mother but I let it pass. He said she was like a cool calming stream and a person always felt safe around her. (True) On the other hand I had little lightning bolts shooting out all over the place from my aura. I lived a chaotic life. (Again true)

He told me that he did not see me with anyone in a romantic way and that I would be happier that way. The truth was that I was in a relationship that had died a slow boring death. Before I left on the trip I had decided to end it when I got back. No one but me knew anything about it. Not even the other person involved.

He told me I had the ability to call people to me. That did not surprise me. Throughout my life I would suddenly think of someone I had not seen in a while. Within three days I would see them in person. I was never sure whether I knew they were coming or if they came because I thought of them. Interesting, right?

The spookiest thing was that he then proceeded to describe my children to me! None of my children look like me, they look like their father. He told me what they looked like and a bit about their personalities. He did kind of mix my second son and third son together and while the things were accurate they might not belong to the son he was talking about.

He said he saw a young woman who looked like a fairy. I was so startled. I had never made this connection but my daughter looks like almost every picture I have seen of a fairy. I was a bit muddled when our time was over. And by the way, he did not give me anything. Not fair.

While we were in Salem Mom took me for my lobster dinner. Oh my goodness. They served two whole lobsters along with side dishes. How is anyone supposed to eat that much? I do not remember what Mom had. She was not much of a seafood person.

We saw Plymouth Rock where the pilgrims landed. We drove into Maine where we just pulled trhe car off the road and watched the ocean for a while. We stopped at little out-of-the-way shops and restaurants. We drove to the places that we saw little signs for and looked around.

When we drove through the mountains I was in awe. I have seen mountains before but this was a special time. As I said it was autumn. It was not the peak time for fall colors yet. But oh my goodness. I saw leaves that were colors that they have no name for. It took my breath away.

We drove down through all the states on the east coast of the United States. We had decided to go visit my sister in Kentucky.

We stopped in Culpeper, Virginia, at a nice little cafe. Such nice people there. The food was delicious and they gave generous portions. It was true southern hospitality.

We spent several days at my sister's house. Mom surprised us both by going out one day and renting a place to live. She said she was tired of cold winters. She had tried Florida with our other sister and did not like it there. So Kentucky it was.

Mom and my sister and her boys took me back home. It was the end of a great road trip.

Since Mom was the one who supplied the car this time I told her I would treat for a trip to Washington DC in a couple of years. We were going to go in April so she could see the cherry blossoms. She died in January that year.

But I have that road trip to add to all the other memories I have of my mother. I am so glad we went.

In The Closet

My parents bought the house they were living in. It had been a three family home so they did a lot of remodeling to make it a home for one family. They knocked out walls between two small bedrooms on the first floor to make a gigantic living room. And there was a door that had been sort of between the bedrooms and the living room. It led to a large closet.

My parents used this closet to hang coats, jackets, and sweaters. Shoes and boots were kept on the floor. Christmas decorations and other things that were not used all the time were stored in the closet. It was an old house so there was no light in the closet.

My family and I spent a lot of time at my parents' house. My children liked being at Grandma's where the food always tastes better. And at Grandpa's because he always found something fun for them to do. My husband felt like he could relax which was not something he often did. I just enjoyed the feeling that comes with being around family.

It was a natural move that my children and I would stay there while I waited for my third baby. My husband had a new job out of state and I was too close to having the baby to be able to safely travel. My husband was able to join us every weekend.

On one side lived an older couple and the woman's brother. They were nice people who kept to themselves. On the other side was a young family with four little girls. The youngest girl was about the same age as my second son.

One day my boys were outside playing. The youngest was with the little girl playing in her yard. My mother was not home and I was enjoying some quiet time in the house.

My three year old son came rushing into the house and made a bee-line for the closet and shut the door!

I was sitting there wondering what on earth he was doing. It was amusing the way he rushed in. Then there was a firm knock on the front door. I answered it.

There stood the neighbor who lived on the other side of the little girl's family. He was holding a mudball that was about the size of a soccer ball. He looked like he was offering it to me. I did not want it.

"Is that little blonde kid yours?" I said that he was. "Well he and the little girl next door just threw this at my bathroom window!" Again offering me the mudball. I still did not want it.

I asked him if the window was broken. That was not the point but no it was not broken.

I looked over at his house and sure enough there was a big spot that had obviously been made by a big ball of mud. I assured him that I would talk to my son and make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

He became totally outraged. Sherry (the little girl next door) had been with my son. When the man confronted her parents, they grabbed her and spanked her. He wanted my son punished too. I told him firmly that I was not going to spank my child in front of him just to make him happy. I would take care of it but in my own way. He was still sputtering as I closed the door.

I then had my son come out of the closet. I explained that we do not throw mud at people's windows. Then we went together to the man's house. I had my son apologize and offer to clean the window. The man declined.

I have told you before that my mother was a resourceful woman. Well she decided to collect returnable pop bottles. She would turn them in once a week to collect the deposit on them and put the money in a special bank account. It kept the neighborhood cleaner and she was getting an extra bit of cash. She was going to buy a car with it.

And buy a car she did. It was a used model that needed a paint job but it ran good. She painted it herself with some spray paint she had. It was fluorescent blue paint and the car glowed in the dark.

One night a police helicopter noticed the glow and came down to investigate. They were astounded and amused.

So Mom had her car. After a few months she began to complain that it was making a "chirping" noise. Daddy drove it around the block and heard nothing. As time went on Mom said the noise was getting worse.

On a Saturday Mom was going to the grocery store. I was sitting in a chair feeling huge and bloated awaiting the imminent birth of my third child. Mom said the chirping noise was getting worse and worse so Daddy told her that when she came back from the store she should honk the horn. Then he would go to the front door and she could move the car back and forth so he could listen.

After about an hour and a half we heard the horn. Daddy sat there. I told him that Mom was honking for him so he heaved that put-upon sigh that he had and went to the door.

Mom was driving forward, then backing up so he could hear the noise. A look of horror came over Daddy's face. He turned from the door. On his way to the closet he said, "I just can't stand watching your mother try to park the car." Into the closet he went and closed the door.

I was still laughing uncontrollably when Mom came in to see where he went.

Eventually they knocked out the wall in the closet to make an entrance to the rooms that my parents were going to use as their room. I miss the closet.

Not Just A Girl

I have always been grateful to my parents because they never, not one time, told me there was anything I could not do because I was a girl. I was encouraged to try anything (as long as it was fairly safe) and praised when I tried.

My grandmother used to tell me that after I became fourteen years old I would no longer be able to 1. wear shorts, 2. tie my fathers shirt at the waist when I wore it, 3. go barefoot, and a variety of other nonsense. My parents didn't directly contradict her to me. They only showed me by example that I could do whatever I felt I had the capability to do.

Naturally I was considered a tomboy because I liked playing with the boys. But I liked to play dress-up and have tea parties too. Naturally I got into a lot of trouble too.

As it is with a lot of large families some of my aunts and uncles were very close in age to me. I followed them all over the place. A couple of my brothers were there too.

The boys decided it was a fun thing to catch snakes. Not to be outdone I caught snakes too. It wasn't until much later that I realized I had caught all the snakes. Those boys were as scared as I was but I was the one stupid enough to show them that I was not afraid.

Volleyball was the acceptable sport for girls in the schools I attended. One school I went to had a really good volleyball team. I loved playing there. Our team was undefeated for several years. That included tournament games. We were good.

I played softball and football with the boys. Not at school. That would not have been allowed. I went to one school where the boys and girls even entered the building through separate doors, for goodness sake. No fraternizing with the opposite S.E.X. To this day I have not figured out how several of the girls got pregnant (pardon me, became with child) under those circumstances.

When I was in high school I took courses to prepare me for college. I had English classes, science classes, math classes, civics classes, swimming, pep club, chorus, band, modern dance, gymnastics, and team sports. It looks like a lot when I look at the list but it was spread over several years.

The one class I was not able to take was calculus. Why not, you might well ask? Does being a girl sound familiar? I was a girl and what on earth would a girl ever need with calculus? I was shocked. I had never been restricted in that way before. I went to the proper authorities but they all had the same opinion. So I do not have calculus on my resume.

So, well before Women's Lib became a cause my parents let me follow my interests no matter what other people thought should limit me because I was female. I am thankful every day that they allowed me to become a strong individual.

A Love Story

My aunt was dating my uncle. No, silly, they were not brother and sister. My uncle's older brother had just returned from serving in the Navy during World War II. My uncle wanted to show his brother a good time so he asked his girlfriend, my aunt, if she had a friend they could double date with. My aunt's best friend was her sister who agreed to the blind date.

The brother was a good-looking young man of 20. He was glad to be home after the horrors of war. He had an outgoing personality. People liked him immediately upon meeting him.

The sister was beautiful. At the age of 17 she had just graduated from high school at the very top of her class. She was shy but confident.

The two hit it off immediately and began to see each other regularly. My aunt and uncle eventually went their own ways and married other people. The brother and sister married each other and had a long and happy marriage. You have already guessed that the brother and sister are my parents.

My father worked as a truck driver for a time. As was the custom at that time my mother stayed home and took care of domestic things.

For their honeymoon they actually spent some time at my mother's family's farm. One day as an activity they decided to go hunting. I'll never know why because shooting was not something that interested Mom. It must have been love.

Anyway off they went. Mom had a shotgun, I don't know what kind of gun Daddy used. They had been gone for several hours before they came back. Daddy was carrying Mom. Somehow she had shot her self in the foot. She was not seriously injured but I can remember seeing her through the years picking a little BB of shot that would surface from her foot every once in a while.

Daddy was a sports fan. Again because she loved him Mom would watch or listen to and sometimes even attend a game. She soon because as avid a fan as he was. When we were older and had families of our own Mom would say, "You are welcome to come over for New Years Day (or most other holidays). I'll be cooking and there will be plenty to eat. Just don't get between me and the television while I'm watching football."

Daddy on the other hand never really understood why we did not live at home when we started our own families. He said there was plenty of room. He really did not understand it.

My parents had seven children. There were also 6 pregnancies that did not make it to term. Can you imagine a family of 13 of us?  I was the first. One year later came a brother, next year another brother, two years went by before I had my first sister. After another two years came another brother.

My youngest brother was getting ready to start school and was worried about who would take care of his mother while he was at school. My parents took care of that by giving us another sister. Then five years later our youngest brother was born. There are fifteen years between me and my youngest brother.

When my father came home from war he brought a kimono for his wife and a kimono for his daughter. He did not know about either of us at the time. He wanted a little girl and I was it. You can only imagine how special I have always felt because I was truly the twinkle in my father's eye.

Our parents loved us. there was never a doubt for any of us We didn't have a lot of things. Money was scarce. But time was spent with us and we always knew it was because they wanted to not because they had to.

A short time after my father died I dreamed that he came in the door at 4:00 like he did every afternoon. Only this time he had been gone for a long time. He was carrying a ditty bag like sailors carry.  I was so happy to see him that I threw my arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Everyone else in the family was looking on with their mouths open in shock.

All except Mom. She stood and stared for a while then she walked over and examined his neck (that I still had a lock on). She backed up to the wall, crossed her arms, and said, " I hope you know I spent all thst money." She was talking about his life insurance.

Of course she had not spent it all but that was my mom. She was practical and Daddy was more impulsive.

I was a little hesitant about telling Mom about my dream but I told her. She started to laugh. It turned out that she had dreamed about him recently too. He had come back and all she could think about was how she was going to repay what money she had spent for his funeral.

I hope you can understand what good parents I had and how lucky I was that I was their daughter. I used to hear my friends complain about how terrible their parents were. I truly never felt that way.

My Mom

Mom was very pretty. I knew her as a quiet somewhat reserved person but I see in old photos that she probably got into her share of mischief.

Even though there is no Indian blood in our family it seemed that they always lived near an Indian reservation. Believe it or not they still exist today. Grandma and Grandpa did not want any of the girls working the farm so the most farming they did was to raise vegetable gardens and tend the fruit trees.. They also took care of the poultry and occasionally slopped the hogs.

Grandpa put great store in an education because he had very little schooling. Mom graduated top of her senior high school class. I used to tease her that it was easy for her because there were only three people who graduated. In truth my mother was the most intelligent person I have ever known and you would be surprised at some of the more or less famous names I could drop.

Mom and Daddy had a happy successful marriage. I never saw them argue. That is not to say that I never saw them upset with one another. Mom would stop speaking to Daddy. After he could stand it no more Daddy would try to cajole her into forgiving him. When he began to see her softening he would start with, "Hon, do you want a cup of coffee? Do you want a cup of coffee, hon? Hon, would you like a cup of coffee?" Finally she would nod her head yes and he would yell, "Emma, get your mother a cup of coffee!"

When I was quite young Mom used to write short stories. Many of them were published in women's magazines. I have no idea what they were like because women's magazines were considered too racy for little girls.

Both of my parents instilled a love of books for all seven of their children. We lived in one small town for 4 years. That was a long stay for us. Anyway during those four years we read every book in the library at least once. When new books were coming in, the librarian would let us know so we could be first to check them out.

Mom was artistic too. She painted, drew, sculpted, sewed, knitted, crocheted, tatted.... I could go on but it's depressing. I inherited none of her artistic abilities. For a while she was avid about charcoals. For Christmas that year she did a charcoal drawing of my teacher as a gift. She felt faces were the most difficult thing for her to do but that one was magnificent.

Most of us in my immediate family had birthdays within three weeks of each other. I always teased my parents that there just was not much to do on those cold winter nights on the prairies. Once she decided that she was going to have birthday parties for each of us. Since there were five of us at that time the girls would be one year and the boys another. The little one, a boy, could go with the girls because he was not in school yet.

She had imaginative parties for each of us. Mine was a treasure hunt. The morning of the party she went out and planted clues all over town. When all the children had arrived and dutifully handed over my gifts, she gave us the first clue. It was a poem that would lead us to the spot where we would find the next clue.Of course there was an adult or two with us to make sure we did not have too much trouble finding the clue. The final clue led us to the town park where Mom was waiting with ice cream and cake and of course my gifts. It was so much fun.

My aunt and uncles went to school in a one room schoolhouse in the country. On the last day of school there was a picnic and we always went. The more the merrier, you know. This year it was held on Friday, the 13th.

We set out for the picnic with Mom at the wheel. Daddy had to work. Mom was running late as usual so she was driving a bit faster than she should have. She came to the top of a hill and saw the police car at the bottom. Instead of slowing down she panicked and stopped. When she restarted and drove down the hill she was pulled over. Luckily the cop recognized the car. Daddy was the town marshal and worked with the state police on occasion. Mom received a warning to be more careful and we went on our way.

The car was low on gas so Mom pulled in to a station along the highway. In the 1950's the pumps often had big glass globes on the top with the name of the gasoline company on them. They were pretty. When Mom pulled in for gas she realized that she was too far away from the pump. She pulled forward a bit and then backed up a bit closer... whoops! a little too close.She bumped the pump. That beautiful glass globe began to wobble, wobble, wobble, wobble... it seemed to be slowing and coming to a stop. Whew. Then it just fell right off and smashed into millions of pieces.

The man at the station was very kind. Of course we did not have to pay for it; it happens all the time. (Right!) We got our 2 dollars worth of gas. That filled it up then. And we were off again.

We turned off the highway to the county road on the way to the picnic. We were merrily driving along and Mom missed the turn onto the next county road that led to the school. Not to worry... she just backed up so she would be in position to turn. Somehow we ended up in the ditch. Some of the ditches in Nebraska were like valleys. We were rear end down with the nose of the car pointing up. Now what was she to do?

Here we were with a car full of children sitting in a deep ditch with no chance she could drive it out. As luck would have it a neighboring farmer came by on his tractor. Mom waved him down and he of course was happy to help. He was so happy to help that he could not stop laughing as he hooked the chain up to the car and his tractor. Laughing as he had Mom steer the car while his tractor strained to pull us out of that ditch. He was so happy when we were completely clear of the ditch that he kept laughing. Mom had made him so happy that he was still laughing as he drove off.

Off we went again. Mom successfully made the turn. Believe it or not we made it safely to the picnic. Of course we were extremely late but there were still a few games left to be played. After that Friday, the 13th, was a day that we no longer let Mom drive. As a matter of fact we would not even let her in the car.

Mom was a loving caring woman. She would never purposely hurt anyone or anything. That does not mean that the occasional evil thought would not cross her mind. She always kind of wished she could bring herself to be slightly evil just once.

Mom died in her sleep in January that year. It was a hard winter. She was living in another state with one of my sisters. As soon as we had made all the arrangements we could by phone, I drove down to help my sister and her boys.

When my brother was killed in Viet Nam Daddy bought three adjacent plots for my brother and my parents. Mom was to be in the middle. That meant we had to have her returned to the place I was living.

It was a bitterly cold day for her funeral. One of my sons had a friend who owned a limousine service who graciously loaned my son a beautiful long white limo for the funeral. Early the morning of the funeral my son had his stepsons wash it to make sure it was nice and clean to honor his grandmother. Because of the cold the doors and locks froze tight. My son missed the services for his grandmother but he did make it to the cemetery.

As I said it was bitterly cold. There was a strong cold wind to really add some bite to the cold. As we were entering the cemetery I was struck by the thought that for just as long as it would take to snap your fingers Mom would have been happy that the day of her funeral caused us to be out there freezing half to death. It made me smile.

Vampires

We were moving into a new house. We moved a lot. This time Daddy was working for a farmer. Part of the pay package was that we got to live in one of the extra farmhouses the farmer owned. That was a common practice at that time.

At that time there were only five of us kids. I am the oldest, about ten years old at the time, and the youngest one was about three. Needless to say we had a lot of stuff to move.

Daddy was pulling a trailer behind his car with as much as he could fit in at the time. He and my uncles would bring a load, empty it, and go for the next load. Mom and those of us old enough to help were busy putting things away.

It was a fairly hot summer day. In the 1950's people did not have air conditioners. The house had good ventilation though. A nice breeze blew through and helped keep us as cool as possible.

Mom decided finally that we had been working hard enough. It was time for a break. There was no furniture there yet so we had nothing to sit on. The floor was dirty from all the traipsing in and out. We flattened a couple of big cardboard boxes and sat on them to have a snack and something cool to drink.

Mom was entertaining us by singing a few songs. Then we asked for a story. We didn't want one of the same old stories she always told. We wanted something new.

She could not think of any. We begged. Finally she started to tell a story and quickly realized we should not hear it. She said it was not a good story for us. We begged and she finally gave in.

Her story was about Dracula, the vampire. We had never heard of vampires before. It was an exciting story. When it was over my little brother was fast asleep and the rest of us had to go back to work.

We worked hard all day. At the end of the day we had not even had time to put the beds together so we slept on the floor. Our rooms were upstairs. The boys were directly across the hall from us girls. The top of the stairs was right outside our doors.

It was a sweltering night. We had all the windows open to catch any breeze that might pass by but there were not many of those.

The main problem was that it was dark outside. Vampires come out after dark. They prey on the blood of poor unsuspecting victims. We were all afraid to go to sleep.

My mother assured us that a vampire could not come into the house unless someone invited it in. We were taking no chances. She told us to leave the lights on which we did.

Having the lights on accomplished two things. Number one; it was dark outside and we could only imagine what was lurking out there just waiting to attack. Number two; moths were attracted to the light. They flew up and banged against the windows. We all knew it was vampires trying to get at us.

Mom tried to calm us. It didn't work. She tried being firm. It didn't work. She finally ended up sitting at the top of the stairs between our bedrooms until we finally fell asleep.

I have been afraid of vampires ever since. See what you did, Mom?