First Story - Life Pebbles

I was born in 1941 to parents who were in their 40's.

After Pearl Harbor The entire nation wanted to do something
anything !

My Father joined the Navy. My Mother wanted to join the Waves.
But she was pregnant. NO ! - Yes ! Pooey.
Daddy went off and returned as a recruiter. He was too old to go to sea. He said he fought the battles of Reno, Nevada and Idaho. It was his job to get the boys off the farms and show them the world.

We lived in  housing in The Ambassador in Salt Lake City, Utah. I remember individual apartments with a common  dinning room. The kids harassed the cook, climbed thru my bedroom window and on to my dresser and jumped on my bed until the slats broke. I remember running and having fun. There were lots of men with lots of brass on their uniforms. My Father drank whisky, smoked cigarettes and used profanity in his every day life. So I thought this was normal. One day I was standing on a table. Mother was marking a hem for my dress. I was probably 3 years old. A large man came to the door looking for Daddy, he was in a Navy dress uniform. I ask if that was " old son of a *&%##" ?" I  heard my Father and the  adult males refer to each other this way. My Mother was shocked that I knew these words and how to use them !

My Mother was raised in an era when you chose your words carefully. One of the first things you noticed about my Mother was she was well dressed and used correct English. "Well put together" would describe my Mother. She wore hats and gloves and loved good clothes. My Mother worked from the time I was 5 until she retired when she was 62. She worked in up scale women's clothing stores and she and I wore the latest fashions.

When my Mother and her sisters were growing up you and your Mother made your clothes. I remember a trunk in our basement that had some of those clothes. There were pin tucks and small bows and fine cotton. All made by hand. Irons were heated on wood stoves. Horses pulled wagons and my Mother was a bit of a tom boy. But her Mother made sure she and her sisters all knew how to sew a fine seam. My Mother made her living sewing in the alteration's departments. My Grandmother could put 9 stitches on a quilting needle and think nothing of it. They taught me to do needlework and sew.

I had a good child hood. I grew up strong willed and confident that I could do anything I wanted to do.

As a women today I still believe I am in charge of my life. I would like to share some of the things life has taught me. Perhaps you can use some of my life pebbles to carry you on.