Thursday, January 24, 2008

Winter is a time for memories, so I sit and remember:

I hated the way my mom fixed my hair. It was supposed to be “Shirley Temple” style, although somehow the effect isn't the same on a brunette. I was ten years too late for the style anyhow. And let's face it, I was nowhere near as cute and charming as Shirley. It appears as though I spent at least one recess rough-housing the day they took the above school picture, because I had a rather frizzy, unkept look about me.


Mother said she fixed it that way because my naturally curly hair would have been too unruly, just combed. Oh, and those hot summer Sunday afternoons when we went to First Sunday singings at some Church-of-Christ fifty miles away, I had to wear a hairnet over my curls. Air conditioning was nonexistent in the early fifties . So we drove with the car windows down, eating dust and wearing our hairnets to keep from getting tangles blown in. My mother always seemed to find a dirty spot on me someplace.... neck, elbows, knees, face.... and she’d pull out a hanky, spit on a corner of it, and scrub at the offending spot with the hanky before we got out of the car: The original Wet Ones!

I did love the singings, though. Any man in the group who could even halfway carry a tune would get up and lead a song, and everybody sang their parts. That’s how I learned to sing alto. Sometimes they’d take requests, and I always asked for “On Jordan’s Stormy Banks I Stand”.
The singing started at 2:30, but first there was a basket dinner.

We spent a lot of time in Church back then. Of course you have to remember, for the adults it was work, work, work all week long. Few people had television. Church was entertainment and recreation as well as worship. In nice weather, the adults were likely to linger an hour or so after Sunday night service, just visiting. We kids played tag, or spun around getting dizzy as possible, falling on the grass laughing. Boys loved to catch Junebugs and chase us girls so they could put a Junebug down the back of our dresses. I still remember how creepy that felt.


Oh yes, we wore dresses. Not only to Church, but for all occasions. My dresses were hand-made by Mama; they all had a bow that tied in back. When I was very young, many of my dresses were made from print chicken-feed sacks, and once I asked Mama to make me some panties to match from the same material. She did, but they were rather itchy, so I didn’t wear them much.


And now for a another real oldie, I give you a picture taken at a Gospel tent meeting my grandparents attended with their brood; Mother dated it as 1928. I hated that she marked on the front of the picture when I first saw it, but that bothers me less, as time goes on.

5 comments:

  1. This is so interesting!! I had to have curls like you did too!! I will be 70 in August!

    I loved this post!! It brought back happy memories!! My arm is better today and I have a new post and can go out and vist a few blogs today!! Blessings, Grams

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  2. I remember those days as well, Donna. It used to bug me that Grandma and Mama wrote on the family pictures but now I know why they did. I'm only 44 and my memory is getting terrible, so I know they wrote on them to keep up with who, what, where and when. It's a good thing, too!

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  3. Just be glad she wrote on the pictures at all. I have so many my grandmother didn't write on and I have no idea who they are,but I love old pics so I keep them around. I do remember feed sack dress. I thought they were pretty.

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  4. Anonymous8:54 PM

    So nice to find you over here. I love reading your memories. I wonder why winter provokes such? Too cold and damp? It's not supposed to be that way here in CA, but we are experiencing terrible storms, wind and snow just a few miles up the road. Been missing some of my favorites from early on . . . you are one of them. Blessings, Penny

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  5. Aww, the memories. It was nice strolling down that lane with you today, and I'm sure you're happy now with the way you wear your hair!

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