My Best Friend-neighbor Betty, loved to take photographs. She’s the girl who lived ¼ of a mile away from my house, when I was in kindergarten. I got to walk to her house sometimes, with her mom watching from her porch, and my mom watching from mine. We played in her yard, under the clothesline at the end of the narrow sidewalk that led from her house. .That part matched my house, everything else about Betty’s house was different. Once I ran lickety-split from Betty’s house to the clothesline and landed on my foot half off and half on the sidewalk. It hurt like the dickens for over a month. Of course, I only got to go inside the house when Mom went with me and had coffee and chatted Extension Club stuff with Mrs. S.
Betty had an older sister, and an older brother, just like my Best Friend-ever, Connie; only Betty’s sister was oldest and Connie’s brother was oldest. All my brothers were Little Kids, and Loren, all by himself in the middle. I only had one big sister, Deanna and she was just a year older than me, which was next to nothing. Connie and I had lots of Little Kids in our families; Betty had nobody she could boss around and be in charge of. She was the baby.
Babies of the family are special our baby, Johnnie. Betty was nowhere near as special as Johnnie, ‘cause for one thing, she was the youngest of three, and Johnnie was the youngest of nine, which was way specialler. Plus, Johnnie almost died from getting a haircut, and from sucking on an oleo wrapper, and from breathing the smell of a hen turkey on Thanksgiving, and a bunch Continue reading