With having several surgeries and the dislocation of my hips I suffered a lot of physical pain. But the human mind is amazing. I can not remember any of it. Unfortunately, my brain shutting the door on the pain shut the door on other memories too. I was amazed when I found out that I had remembered a playground that I had played at when I was 4 years old. Mom believes that the reason I remember that place is because I was allowed to be outside alone. (She was just inside the laundry room that had windows looking out onto the playground.) 

The next memory is being in kindergarten. For some reason I believe that was the first time I ate graham crackers. I really enjoyed snack time and thought having a nap at school was silly.

Then there is a long gap, until first or second grade. The only things I can remember was having a teacher who didn't understand that I did things slowly and precisely. All she wanted was speed and punished me for being slow. In the early sixties teachers were allowed to use corporal punishment. I was punished almost every time we had a in class writing assignment.

One time I was walking home from school alone, because my older sister was sick, I saw a man "watering" a hedge without a hose. Being a curious person I wondered how he could do that. He noticed me standing there. Then he walked up to me showed what had used and asked me to touch it. I refused. He asked me a couple more times and I kept saying no. Then I started to run. He chased me for blocks. Only one thing kept running though my mind. I don't want this man to know where I live, but I want to go home!!  I lost him on the way home on some stairs.

Sometimes silly things stick with you. When I got my very first umbrella it was shortly after Mary Poppins had come out. It was a sunny day and I was running down the street with my umbrella open. As I ran I could feel myself starting to take- off. For a couple seconds I thought I would fly just like Mary Poppins.

In this same time frame, I loved the Monkees especially Davy Jones. (The only reason I picked Davy was because he was closest to my height, and the accent.) I was so infatuated that I insisted on having my hair cut in the same style as Davy's. Mom gave me her ok.

The strange thing was: when the guy's made their return to the spotlight some 20 years later, purely by coincidence Davy and I still had alike haircuts.

A couple years pass in a blank. The next true memory is when we moved from the city to the country. Even though I could see my family, I felt lost amongst the trees in our back yard.

My favorite place in town was the general store. It was like what you see in Little House on the Prairie. It everything from penny candy to penny nails. Horse harnesses hung on the walls. Big cracker barrels by the counter. Off in the side room there were plows, shovels, and other gardening tools. Downstairs, huge bags of feed for any kind of farm animal you could think of. Seeds came in big burlap sacks too. I didn't like it downstairs too much, because the grain smells were too strong for me.

The first year of school after the move was like a blast from the past also. It was a 3 room schoolhouse. Each teacher taught 2 grades at the same time. All the desks were black wrought iron and wood, and designed to be nailed to the floor. They were not. They were nailed to 2 x 4's so that the desks could be moved and the classroom could be used for dances and such. Which in theory is great. But, the way the desks were built, the desk part was actually connected the seat of the person in front of you. In-other-words, if you got the seat which was at the end of one 2x4 column and the desk that is at the end of another 2x4 column, you would either be squashed or have to ask the group in front of you to scoot back so you could reach your desk.

I kinda got bummed when they tore the place down during the summer at the end of that school year.

That year for Christmas my parents got me a white faux fur coat. I put it on over my flannel jammies and felt like a movie star.

The next school year was the first time I met someone with the same first name, spelled the same way. (Janice). She was only person I would remember when I got to go back to public school.

The next 4 years, because my doctor insisted, I went to a private school. I didn't fit in there, and the boys reminded me every day. I made a few friends there. Two inparticular: the first one was also the target of the nasty barbs of the boys, the other treated me better than I was treating myself at the time. Unfortunately, I've lost touch with both of them.

One thing that I happily remember from my school days there was: I had gotten the OK to play volleyball with the class, and my team won the game from the ball bouncing off my head and over the net. The whole class including the teacher and myself just started laughing over the absurd way it happened. I wasn't even looking the right direction. I thought the ball had already flown over and gone behind me.

My first kiss was done on a dare. No one dared me, they dared the boy who did it. I wasn't particularly too fond of the boy. I was walking on crutches, and he grabbed, pinned my arms to my side, and kissed me. I protested all the while. After the kiss, the boys who dared him to do it teased me about the whole thing. It still brings tears to my eyes after all these years.