We have met new people who have had diverse backgrounds and have found them to be new friends which we can share our experiences with.
September 21, 2017
Submitted by Helen Roser
Being a tomboy, I was busy climbing trees in my coveralls when my mother called me to come home. Company was coming. Time to clean up.
My mother said she was going to be a nervous wreck from trying to make a lady out of me. I was a skinny kid with straight red hair and big feet.
My good dresses had a sash from a side seam that tied in a big bow in back. If I hardly moved at all, it came undone and hung down. I also had to wear a big bow clamped in my hair which, without provocation, skidded down my hair and hung off my ear.
But there was one good thing. I got to wear my dressup shoes. They were black patent leather sandals with straps that fastened with silver buckles. They were gorgeous and I wanted to look at them all the time.
I didn't have to curtsy when company came, like my girlfriends did. My mother settled for me sitting like a lady. She whispered: “Sit still and keep quiet.” So I did, so nothing would come untied or fall off. But I so wanted to stick my feet out so I could look at my beautiful shoes.
A neat thing about being an adult was wearing beautiful expensive shoes, for as long as aging limbs allowed.
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Manhattan, KS 66502