Under the veil
Sitting here with windows on all sides, on the first day of what's promised to be a five-day storm, is like staring out from under a waterfall in the round. The veil of rain that obscures the green hills blows back and forth, slowly, and closer in, the strings of beaded drops from the roof roll down thickly.
(I've been reading other blogs, my daily fix, and feeling inadequate as a blogger.. so I thought I'd start out today with a more eloquent and poetic paragraph.)
I've been looking through the old photos that my sister sent, to see what memories bubble up. I think I have written here before about how much I hated marching in Memorial Day parades as a kid. In this photo, I seem happy, but I'm guessing the smile is the "smile at the camera" type.
Note the very bad glasses and the nerdy skirt. Also - white gloves! and uncomfortable shoes. And those awful knee socks that look like they are about to fall down at any minute. Marching on my left is Nancy Baldwin, who lived a couple houses around the corner, and on my right is my best friend Roxane McCarty. Next to her is Susan Hodge. Susan was someone that everyone picked on in school. I liked her. Perhaps we got to know each other in Girl Scouts, I can't remember that. But in both parade pictures in this collection, she is marching near me.
She came from a poor family - I think her mom was single, I seem to remember she was sick, too, and they lived in a small house on the "bad" side of town. The first time she came over to my house to play, I remember how amazed she was at the size of our house, and how she thought we were rich.
We are marching down Main Street, LeRoy, New York. Shelby's Jewelery Shop is in the background. Mom would go in there to get her watch serviced, and I remember the old guy behind the counter in the back, who always had one of those eyepieces that jewelers use for looking at the tiny parts of a watch.
(I've been reading other blogs, my daily fix, and feeling inadequate as a blogger.. so I thought I'd start out today with a more eloquent and poetic paragraph.)
I've been looking through the old photos that my sister sent, to see what memories bubble up. I think I have written here before about how much I hated marching in Memorial Day parades as a kid. In this photo, I seem happy, but I'm guessing the smile is the "smile at the camera" type.
Note the very bad glasses and the nerdy skirt. Also - white gloves! and uncomfortable shoes. And those awful knee socks that look like they are about to fall down at any minute. Marching on my left is Nancy Baldwin, who lived a couple houses around the corner, and on my right is my best friend Roxane McCarty. Next to her is Susan Hodge. Susan was someone that everyone picked on in school. I liked her. Perhaps we got to know each other in Girl Scouts, I can't remember that. But in both parade pictures in this collection, she is marching near me.
She came from a poor family - I think her mom was single, I seem to remember she was sick, too, and they lived in a small house on the "bad" side of town. The first time she came over to my house to play, I remember how amazed she was at the size of our house, and how she thought we were rich.
We are marching down Main Street, LeRoy, New York. Shelby's Jewelery Shop is in the background. Mom would go in there to get her watch serviced, and I remember the old guy behind the counter in the back, who always had one of those eyepieces that jewelers use for looking at the tiny parts of a watch.
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on Friday, January 07, 2005 at 9:04 AM.
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But I'll try. You know, you mention "Susan", whom you befriended. How great. One of my disappointments in "man" over my life is of the wicked tendency of people to bully, make fun of, or take advantage of people they see as being inferior or different. I guess it must boil down to some Darwinian instinct to dominate others, or a twisted psyche of people to only feel good if they belittle others, but I see it even in otherwise fine and stable people sometimes, so it is a true puzzlement.
As far a Shelby's in LeRoy, the man in the back of the store might have been the owner, Mr. Shelby. He was a friend of Mom & Dad and did some kind favors for our family and for me personally that were not generally known. He was a fine gentleman, for sure.