The Earliest Years (That I can remember)

I guess I was born in George Legare Homes on Eden Avenue. I don't remember anything about it. Not too surprising that, yet I am sure I must have liked it there.

I do remember being a baby however. Its only one memory but it stuck with me and, as insignificant as it is, I count myself among very few who can recall anything prior to being a toddler.  I remember being in my crib and having to hold on to the sides to stand. I was alone in the room and had my bottle (back in the day they were glass, and heavy). I must have wanted some company. I don't think I cried at first but I managed to heave my bottle a good way across the room. I don't know why that seemed like a good idea but I did it. And I think I must have regretted it soon after because I remember reaching for it and wanting it back in my hand. Of course it did not come to me. I stared at it, laying against the baseboard on the rose flowered linoleum, half full, and I cried. And I cried... until my brother came in the room and figured out why I was crying and fetched the bottle back to me.

I don't remember anything else of my early, early years.

And then we moved. We moved over to Amboy Street off of Remount Road in North Charleston. Remount was off of Rivers avenue at 10 Mile Hill. We didn't call it Rivers Avenue. We didn't call it Highway 52. We called it Dual Lane. Why? Because it was the only dual laned highway in Charleston. It was huge ( by the standards of the day). Two lanes going West and two lanes going East.  Just past 10 Mile Hill ( I can't tell you why that is called that), the road narrowed to one lane.

On the Remount Road side there was a Piggly Wiggly and across from that, on the East bound side, there was a Eagles 5 & 10. And toys. Now, being only 3 or so, I hadn't had the opportunity, nor the wherewithall to avail myself of a proper ladie's purse. However I had a pair of cotton panties and a nickel that I had found and the front of my panties served quite well as pocketbook, for I was going shopping! I do remember this.  We lived on a dead end sandy street. At the end, the land sloped down and past a rather formidable jungle of pine and oak, it gave way to The Sand Pit. The other end of the street opened on to Remount Road. And there was one little side street that went from Amboy to Dual Lane (Rivers Avenue) through the side yard of the Binghams house. I must have paid close attention to shopping trips to Piggly Wiggly and indeed even over to Eagle's 5 & 10 store because I made up my mind  and went off on my own. I suppose everyone thought the other one was watching me. I was supposed to be playing with my friend, Cheryl, who lived across the street. But my good fortune had it that no one was watching me, and I had no reason to tell them that I was off to do some marketing. A nickel seemed like a large sum of money but it didn't weigh the purse down like I thought it should, so a couple of good handfuls of sand went in for good measure and off I went. My memory is sketchy about the trip through the yard and out to Rivers Avenue, but I made it. I wonder what people must have thought to see a toddler, 3 or 4 years old, barefooted, a load of sand in her drawers, purposefully making her way through the parking lot and to the edge of a busy highway. I remember standing on the side of the road, knowing not to cross it while traffic was coming. That did not stop me from yelling at the 18 wheel trucks to "Stop!" because I needed to get over to the dime store. I offered them my nickel several times, to no avail.  It seemed like forever but apparently somehow I made it to Eagles.  By then my family was frantic to find me...I am not clear on what happened but I seem to remember something about one of the truck drivers actually stopping, picking me up and taking me over to Eagles.  I am sure I could tell my name but not much more. The lady at Eagles called the police. My mother called the police.  The police then asked my mother if she was missing a blonde curly haired, blue eyed little girl. When she told them yes, they told her that they and I were over at Eagles, I was having candy or something and they came and took me home.  In writing this I am forced to think of how things have changed since then. A child, hardly more than a toddler, makes her way out of the yard, across a major highway and into a dime store to spend a nickel she found. The police are called, the parents come and get the child, and that was the end of it. No Department of Social Services, no charges of neglect or child endangerment...  and I am sure that I must have been spanked or scolded after the hugs and kisses for being found safe...Whatever happened, it cured me from wandering out of the yard from then on. I think they might have confiscated my nickel too... 

I have to thank my cousin Carlene for my re-awakened awareness of my blog page! Her blog, Horseshoe Bend, reminded me that I also have stories to share. Thank you, Carlene.
I am sure that most of these posts will bore some or all of you to tears. Some will evoke nostalgia. Some will evoke the "Holy crap! I can't believe that she told that!" response... and some, occasionally, will just bring on the head-shaking tsk-tsking "what is she thinking?" mindset. I'm 53. I don't care. I own that right, bought and paid for by years of meek, sweet, mouth-shut niceness.
So read at your own risk. This is coleslaw and hushpuppies. Plenty of fiber, mixed and shredded, a bit innocuous at first glance, but flavored with salt, pepper, vinegar, and creamy goodness.You didn't have coleslaw without hushpuppies in our house ... so it comes in small, neat littel round packages -  deep fried, loaded with cornmeal, onions, buttermilk, and served up hot and fresh - all told,  a grainy goodness, full of good, wholesome, if grainy, truth. Settle back with the sweet tea or your glass of buttermilk and a spoon and spend a few minutes here, going back there, for the most part.

Go Cindy!

I've got to say that the woman has guts. She's got moxie. She's also got my vote. You can only admire this woman's drive and devotion to righting a serious wrong; namely, the death of her son, Casey. And the question she begged George Bush to answer, " Why?", is one that seems to be a very popular one now, amongst millions of Americans, and I'd wager that even some of you Bush supporters who said she was crazy and an attention seeker, are echoing her sentiments. Maybe your son or daughter was killed in Bush's war to gain control of the oil, amongst other things, and you finally woke up to the fact that this war should -never- have been entered into in the first place. It's too sad and too bad and I'm sorry your loved one is among the thousands of dead soldiers who died 'fighting terrorism' on foreign soil. My thought is that if you'd backed Cindy then, your child might have been brought home alive, along with the other thousands of boys and girls, men and women, sitting out there waiting for the next sniper to take a bead on them.
If you aren't a suppoter or sympathizer of Cindy, then I hope you remember this when you get that knock on your door... because it will surely come.
Cindy has decided to take on the biggest beast threatening our servicemen and women. It isn't terrorists. It is our own greedy government. It's George W. Bush, and Nancy Pelosi. It's Dick Cheny. It's Condoleeza Rice. It's any member of Congress, any member of our governing body who has not moved to Impeach George Bush for lying his way into taking America to war to fight a terrorist whose father was in business with his father...
Aren't you wondering why we could find Saddam Hussien in a spider hole and we can't find a man who still leads his armies of terrorists... Come on. Please give us credit for having some intelligence... We can see a license plate from space, we can tell if it's screwed on with a phillips or a slotted screw... We have night vision this and that and we can't find Osama?! We don't -want- to find Osama because he isn't really the object of this war. The object is setting up permanent bases in the oil rich country, initializing our form of government there, perhaps making ourselves comfortable enough that we manage to get control of the oil... How did our oild get under their sand, anyway? Right?
If Cindy's son died for a good reason, I want to know what it is. If terrorism is the real reason we are fighting over there, then why in God's name aren't we securing our border with Mexico? Why are we pardoning Scooter Libbey and locking up men who did their jobs attempting to stop a -known- drug dealer who was trying to enter America from Mexico, illegally!?
Why aren't we putting more stringent enforcement on our imports from China, who obviously, is not at all concerned with the quality of food and other merchandise that they send to America. If Bush and his cronies, and Pelosi is one of them, now, are so enamoured of keeping America safe, hadn't they ought to bring these men and women home and give them jobs protecting our borders, and inspecting the billions of dollars worth of food and goods that we receive from China? Shouldn't protection start at home? Bush's brand of fighting terrorism is akin to protecting against STD's by washing hands -after- sex with the infected individual.
It's insane, and this isn't my last blog.
Go Cindy! I'm voting for you!