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.
Going through my Family Tree project, I realized I have a lot of photographic proof to back up my stories. So why not give you a good laugh going into the weekend?
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.
A week ago I posted the photo below, taken by Hubby as we watched what the wind does with smoke as old corn husks are burning in an open field.
Today I had to attend a work related lecture, which turned out to be about spotting bad weather, specifically Tornadoes, in the making. Not only was it held at the Fire Dept.'s Training Center, after having taught us what to look for, the Meteorologist asked if the photo we were looking at was a rather large tornado. While the rest of the emergency personnel from law enforcement, fire and ambulance services looked stumped, I smiled.
"Firemen...think!" he prodded as they looked at each other.
"It's smoke," I muttered quietly.
"Right!" he yelled, looking at me.
Afterwards I shared the scenario of the photo below. After what we learned today, I hope Smoke-nadoes are all I ever witness firsthand!