What Fresh Hell Is This!

Welcome to Wednesday. And because it's Wednesday, you get some good old fashion fun.

First a photo. I mentioned in my last few blogs that I've been scanning old (and I mean OLD) photos of myself. Well here's just a little taste of the Life of Jenn.

The Two Dresses

I can remember with what I consider vivid clarity the moment I got this dress. I loved this dress. It was quite girly. It shooshed and whooshed when you moved. It was, by far, the prettiest thing I had at that time. There was a family we used to visit regularly who lived in Belt, Montana. The Oslee's (? on the spelling of that last name...I was young). They had like a thousand kids, and all of their names started with T's. Tricia was their youngest (I think) and she gave me this dress.

The goofy chick standing next to me is my sister. Who swears she never EVER wore pink, but now I have proof. (insert evil laugh). The dog's tail you see is that of our beloved Beagle, Happy - who was always in or around us kids.

But back to the dress. I don't remember wearing the dress out of my bedroom much (you know playing dress up and all). I grew out of it pretty quickly, too. But it was definitely a princess dress for me. Our family didn't have much and we'd never EVER be able to afford such a nice dress. In fact, most my dresses were hand me downs from Goofy Pink Girl. (My sister will kill me for posting this photo, but it will all be worth it.). I can remember when it was time to pass the dress on too, and I so didn't want to let it go. I had a feeling I'd never be in anything like it again.

And then I had this dress...

You can't tell its a dress, but it is. It itched. Man did it itch. I hated it with every fiber of my being. My memory is that my mom made it - but I can't be sure. I have no idea why I have that in my head that she did, but I do recall mom making some clothes for us some times. Anyhow, the dress didn't have any defining points to it. Other than apparently I had lost a tooth - I'm willing to bet I lost that tooth when pulling the bulky green drape fabric that was way too heavy over my head. And the white lacy collar itched - it added "color" and "dimension" to the dress. I am pretty sure this was a hand me down from the Goofy Chick behind me.

These two pictures can't be too far apart either. Both in Montana. The green monster one I think was when we actually lived in Great Falls on 15th. The cute girly dress I'm not at all sure where we were living at that point, but I know it was Great Falls - somewhere. Side bar: We lived in a few different houses in Great Falls. To put it in perspective, I went to 4 different schools in my third grade year. We lived on base, we lived off base, we lived as a whole family unit, we lived with just mom and me (my personal favorite), and we lived on base again. I think.

I have several memories of GF. Some good, most not so good, some funnier now that I'm older, some I kind wish I could go back in time and erase altogether.

I'm drawing a blank on the good right now. I'm almost 100% positive there was some good. Maybe I'll just come back to them.

The bad are so much easier to remember. Why is that?

My favorite is getting grounded for bringing the MomUnit flowers. I had extremely mean parents who were ungrateful for the things I did for them. I was so proud of myself for bringing her a handful of freshly picked flowers, they were beautiful in my eyes. Plopping them down on the counter mom asks, "Where'd you get these?" I probably responded with something stupid like, "I found them." As the conversation progressed and she pressed me for more details where I got them, I had to tell her I picked them out of this ladies garden. See, smart child that I was, I left the roots on them...so mom was hip to my lie. My mean mother whom I just gave fresh flowers to, took me - probably by my ear - back down to said ladies house. Made me apologize and I had to do yard work for a couple of days for this lady. The nerve of my mom teaching me a lesson. Though admittedly I never picked someone else's flowers again. I don't even like flowers! I do think this is why I hate yard work though. Scared for life.

Ahem, moving on.

MJ broke her ankle and used to whack me with her crutches. I think I still have bruises. The funnier part of the story is how I told mom and dad. See we lived on this gigantic hill - which I'm sure if I were to go back to now wouldn't be more than a slight decline. Well, MJ liked to ride the skateboard down the hill - she was the rebel, the one who threw caution to the wind and openly defied my parents - we were expressly not allowed to ride the skateboard down this hill. (It should be mentioned that this was all in the 70's at some point - helmets weren't really a thing yet. Which wouldn't have mattered since I'm sure mom would say our heads were the hardest part of our body and we couldn't possibly hurt ourselves there. Anyhow, we were at the bottom of the hill - mom yells for dinner. (mom had a very distinctive voice to me as a child. I could hear her yelling for miles) I trudge uphill, plop myself down for dinner, started eating. Mom asks, "Where's your sister?" I casually respond between bites of chicken that she broke her ankle and is at the bottom of the hill. Speaking of bottoms, I think mine was sore for months after that.

And GF was the place where my sister wrote on the refrigerator. To THIS day we still argue over who wrote on the refrigerator. When I start getting all sassy about MJ and I mom will ask, "Who wrote on the refrigerator?" And if MJ and I are together, we'll point at each other. But, I know in my heart of hearts, and will stick to this until the day I die that it was her. She knows it too. But she swears it was me - which meant the "I-Don't-Knows" did it which meant we both got a whoopin. Scouts honor - it was her.

I scrubbed my brain for good Montana stories, but unfortunately I can't find very many. I don't remember being unhappy there, but I do remember that the family was stressed. I remember the family starting to come apart at the seams. In the end, Mom, MJ and I moved to California and started a new life. Then the good times really started. I think.

Now, wanna see a picture of the mature, and classy, woman I've grown up to be. I'm miles away from that Green Monster dress, and thousand of lessons from the flower plucking.