I realized recently that my Blogger friends whom I love and trust, do the same for me and my stories. We have faith in each other...and know when a tale is being stretched for a laugh.
Recently, my pal the excellent writer and Irish playwright Ken asked a question pertaining to our earliest memories here. I swore to him that my earliest memory was of me as a ballerina, dancing down the driveway in an outfit that didn't have shoes. The sandy driveway was hot and the pine needles pricked my leotard clad feet. I was 18 months old. I told him I had the picture to prove it.
Titus teased me last week that I must have been a Girl Scout.
Guilty as charged.
Age 11...with eyes that matched the uniform.
I was telling the Musical Map that I too once sang in public.
A L-O-N-G time ago, when I wasn't self conscious or shy.
This was 3rd grade.
And I sang a solo..."Away in a Manager".
I later stuck to playing the piano to amuse myself.
Still won't play in public.
Sweet 16 and about to meet the boy I would marry...
the one still around 33 years later.
Ah, Savannah...my southern sister in hospitality.
Only she would understand how important it once was for a girl to look
her most fashionable on the beach...
even at the age of 3.
when I said I'd been in the kitchen helping out for a long time,
I wasn't kidding.
Dad and I teamed up to pull off this surprise shot of Mom, pregnant with #2.
I was a little over 2 years old and already felt comfortable in a kitchen.
Sadly, I would still need a stool to reach the top shelf when I "grew up".
I think this photo explains it all.
The reason I am able to remember so much of my childhood
is that I treasured every moment of it.
This is Christmas, 1962.
I'm 4 and in the middle of all the goodies Santa brought were 3 other treasures.
The chair and cradle were hand crafted by my maternal Grandfather,
who died that October.
In the cradle was my best bud, Ellie the Elephant,
a gift from one of my Mom's friends when I was about 6 months old.
So, how sentimental am I?
I still have all three of those gifts.
And the photos to help me remember,
should the memories ever become foggy.