Before the sun was up, the milkman made a delivery from the local dairy right to our front door. A list with instructions about how many quarts to leave was placed with the well-scrubbed, empty bottles from his last delivery.
People were known to talk to their flowers and my grandmother was not an exception. She grew flowers in abundance, was a nationally acredited flower judge and President of the Baton Rouge Garden Club. The society section editor of The Morning Advocate phoned one summer day, learned Mamma's two granddaughters from Texas were visiting and sent a photographer to record the occasion. Mamma curled my hair using rags.
|The seventh grade began at Dick Dowling Junior High in Beaumont, TX. On that first day of school, I wondered what my classmates would be like since we had just moved and I didn't know even one person. The apprehension I felt was definitely increased when Daddy drove me to the school's front entrance in our not so spiffy vehicle.|