That’s just the way it is!

Things are a little different now, but in my youth it was a different story. Don’t get me wrong, we had fun because we didn’t know that life could be any different than it was. We lived 8 miles from my school; the bus picked us up after a mile hike. As the “young ladies” that we were, we were not allowed to wear slacks in school, ever! Arriving to a locked building we stomped our feet trying to keep warm in the 30 below weather until the school was finally opened. Later, the school agreed that us “ladies” would be allowed to wear jeans to school under out skirts, but we needed to remove them while in school. We accepted it because, that’s the way it was.

My big plan after high school was to go to college, so when the came to take the test for scholarships, I paid and took the test. We were to be given our scores when we had a meeting with our “guidance councilor.” I was stoked when it was my turn. He told me I was only qualified to get married and have kids. Nice. I was crushed, but that’s the way it was.

Looking for my first job was another enlightenment. The local paper “help wanted” section was divided into two parts; help wanted male and help wanted female. I was hired as a keypunch operator, which was a thrilling mental challenge! Not! I punched holes in the cards that the guys working on the other side of the row of file cabinets used on the computer that only male hands and brains were capable of understanding. That’s the way it was.

I was driving a stick shift truck from an early age, just not on main roads. When I was old enough I applied for a license and scheduled a driving test. The “man” that administered the test was a real peach. In Maine in the winter the roads are almost never totally clear of ice and or snow. He had me park facing uphill and had to put on my emergency brake then start of without spinning the wheels once. I was able to start and didn’t roll back, but spun the wheels a little. I failed my test. I thought it was interesting that a young man that took the test before me lost control and wiped out a ladies garden. He got his license! But, that was the way it was. Just for clarification, I never went back to try to get my license again until I was 25. Why bother?

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Another rule was nonsensical that my brothers were allowed to hitchhike, but I wasn’t. We moved to a new town 6 or 8 miles away and was dropped off by the bus at the edge of town and walked home. The boys got home and were out playing. You are asking why I wasn’t picked up? Only one car and it was used for Dad to go to work. Sometime Mom would walk part way and walk me home. That was the way it was.

There are more, but I appear to be brain dead this morning. Later I will remember more of them an post. However, is you remember some of yours, feel free to comment.

Published by Time Traveler of Life

Biography Creating worlds, characters, and wielding power like a madwoman, making my characters happy, sad, angry, and some of them with no redeeming qualities. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I sometimes laugh out loud when I am writing a scene, and I have been known to cry when one of my favorites has to die. I am a left-handed Gemini, what do you expect? Reading bedtime stories to my two children until they fell asleep or until they just told me to go away, was fun. Making up wild stories for my grandchild, and creating Halloween costumes from Cowboys to a Dragon, was another favorite thing to do. I missed that so much when they were grown, that I started writing. My yearly newsletters frequently were drafted third-person by my Love Birds, Miranda our motorhome, and by Sir Fit the White Knight, our faithful Honda. Throughout the years, some of my creative talents centered around writing letters of complaint expressing my displeasure with services or products. One crucial, at least to my Son, was a note to our local school bus driver petitioning her to allow him back on the bus. He was kicked off for making an obscene gesture at his buddy. I reminded her that it was not directed at her, and that “obscenity can be in the eye of the beholder,” kids use that gesture as a greeting. He rode the bus until he graduated. I loved driving my English teacher crazy. Leaving a “continued next week” at the end of my five handwritten pages required each week. He was one of many people that suggested I “do something about my writing.” I graduated from the School of Hard Knocks at the top of my class. After 30 years, in the trenches as a Real Estate Professional, I have found that truth is stranger than fiction. My books are filled with characters I met in that profession. Their names were changed to protect the guilty. Others were from people we met traveling around the country in Miranda, our Motorhome. I am married nearly 60 years to the love of my life, Shirl, and partner-produced two exceptionally talented children, and one grandchild who is our pride and joy.

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