Where I come from. . .

Reflecting on where I come from. . .

  • from stock that left Oklahoma to come to California for a better life
  • from a family that didn’t understand in-laws/out-laws —   just family
  • from being the oldest of 5 children and the only girl
  • from 4 of us sleeping in one bedroom and pulling the baby in bed with me when he fussed
  • from Sunday dinners at Grandpa & Grandma Ripley’s, you could smell the oven baked chicken in the driveway
  • from the adults playing cards and being allowed to watch if you were silent and didn’t touch anything
  • from having to eat everything on my plate, even the stone cold sweet potatoes
  • from hours of playing Aggravation on the board Daddy made
  • from a week with a cousin at G & G Ripley’s,
    • picking out any cereal we wanted,
    • riding the cultivator with Grandpa,
    • catching the clothes as they came out of the wringer into the wash tub,
    • picking and stringing green beans for canning
    • putting on good clothes for a trip 15 miles into town for errands and lunch out. Grandma wore stockings (she put on wearing gloves to protect from snags) and shoes with low heels
    • sleeping in a room with a bee hive in the wall
    • using the outhouse when the indoor bathroom was busy
    • eating grapefruit that had sugar sprinkled on it the night before
    • knowing I was loved
  • from coming home from school on Tuesday’s and smelling starch from the ironing done that day
  • from learning to embroider at 6 years old
  • from going to Sunday School and learning ‘The Wise Man Built His House Upon A Rock’
  • from learning to make cornbread from scratch at about 9 years old
  •  (I still use the same recipe)
  • from the year the Easter dress wasn’t new, and my only shoes were tennies with a hole at the little toe. Mom washed them white and darned the hole  and we had Easter dinner at Grandma Ripley’s.
  • from changing schools in the 5th grade and not liking riding the bus or the new school
  • from making my first quilt at 11 years old
  • from a Dad who could see the possibilities
  • from walking to the Sanger library every week in the summer and buying a brown paper bag of sunflower seeds from the bulk bin at the 5 & 10 on the way home
  • from driving Clif’s Triumph Spitfire to school my senior year for two week s until he got his license
  • from a Dad who built a 4 seat merry-go-round with a center platform for all
  • from a Mom who before I was born made me a rag doll from  a pattern, embroidering the face, adding yellow yarn for braids, picking the cotton for stuffing, sewing the dress and panties. I still have the pieces of the doll, body,  arms and legs, hair is gone, dress is gone………the love has never changed.
  • from suppers ready exactly at 5:00pm
  • from meeting a young man at 17 years old
  • from getting engaged January, 1967
  • from walking out of my family’s front door on my father’s arm, down the grassy aisle, to a gladiola decorated arch to exchange vows with the man who would become the Farmer

In this blogging world sometimes we play ‘follow the leader’. Mary (oldest daughter) followed Ann, a friend and  I’m following Mary, whose next?

Published in: on March 10, 2012 at 4:01 pm  Comments (1)