The obvious first thing to blog about is - well, the virus. Duh. Checked out some latest statistics: there are 395,807 cases, 17,235 people have died, and 103,736 have recovered.
Jeff and I are still sheltering in place. He's working. I'm doing laundry, probably more loads than I need to do. But, you've got to do something with your time! I don't mind the washing/drying part, but heaven knows that I hate folding!! This isn't much of a problem, for either of us, because who needs to dress up just to stay home. To be sure, we do get dressed every day. It would simply be too easy to just stay in your jammies (however you spell it) all day. It would save you time when getting ready for bed!
Since we're all sick of the news of today, which is repeated over and over, by the ever present "talking heads", I know I should find something else to blog about.
Okay, let's go back to 1967, and I'm aware that some of you possibly weren't born by then, and that's okay.
In my freshman year, we were still living in California. One day, my grandmother decided to return to Illinois. After Dad retired from the Air Force, there wasn't any reason for us to remain in California. Dad was always a GM guy, and at the time, I think he owned a Pontiac Bonneville. To the best of my knowledge, the car looked something like this:
We drove from California to Illinois. A very long road trip. We three kids were, obviously in the back seat, glamoring for the middle, because it had a hump, it helped define space for all of us.
In California, my class was somewhere over 4,000. You found a friend or perhaps two, and basically that were your buddies. If you had been a cheerleader or a jock, then you would have lots of "friends".
School in Illinois was so much different from California. There were somewhere around 47 in my class, and we moved as one. Building the float for homecoming, we all participated. Decorating the gym for the prom, again we all came together.
I think in my junior or senior play, I participated, and everybody else did as well. I don't remember the name of the play, but I was Hilda Swenson, a maid. We sprayed my hair gray, and Grandma found a friend who had those black, lace up "granny" shoes. I can't remember for sure, but think I was wearing an old lady dress. My Dad was part of the jury. When Hilda was called to testify I stomped from my seat to the stage. I didn't have a huge role, basically what I did for my employer, a rich stuck-up woman, charged for murder. I don't remember if the jury found her guilty. But, every night during rehearsal, we all gathered in the gym, found a mat, and sat back and waited for our role. Afterwards, there was a run to a local hamburger place, ate and then we all went home. Good times.
I attended the prom with a guy from college, who a good friend introduced me to. It was a date, and through all my years in high school, I think I only went on one date. I wasn't ugly, fat or suffering from acne. A male friend of mine, told me once that nobody wanted to ask me out because they felt inadequate around me. Huh?
The gym had been transformed into a wonderful prom setting. Mom made my dress, which looked like this: I can't figure out how to get rid of the black and white dresses. My dress was the pink one, with the beading - and it was beautiful.
It was also the first time that I wore long gloves. Before starting to eat, you had to tuck in the fingers of the gloves inside the glove. Or, I suppose you could have just taken them off - which would have been easier.
I have many more memories about my high school years, but I've rambled on long enough.
"Any effort directed toward a worthy goal is time well spent"
Stay safe.
P
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