Many of my friends are writing stories of their lives. I am wondering if they will write the whole truth. I would not because there is a lot I would not want to reveal and it might hurt some people. It is all in the past and I just want to be remembered as someone who did the best they could under the circumstances. I still have vivid memories of my childhood. It took forever for my family to claw their way out of the depression. Rural families suffered so much. There were the dust storms, the lack of money and with it the lack of good nutrition. Meat was a luxury at our house because the family had to sell all the animals. We ate a lot of potatoes and canned vegetables.The exception was chicken because they were so easy to raise. I wanted desperately to be pretty and I was not a pretty child. I saved up 50 cents (it took two months) for a charm curl home permanent wave and Mama made me buy two pairs of panties instead because I needed underwear. On the good side, we had all kinds of animals to pet, horses, dogs and cats and pigeons. We had pet calves...even knowing what their eventual fate would be. I always loved nature and practically lived in a mulberry tree with branches you could lie down in and read. Ted asked me how we had reading material and I told him our mother bought second hand books and magazines. They were one of our priorities. I am so grateful for this. When the garden started to bear fresh vegetables and the little chickens became frying size, we had fried chicken every day with mashed potatoes and gravy and of course wilted lettuce salad. One of my teachers had tried to encourage me to get a further education and eventually law school but I was so eager to make money that I took the first job that was offered and it was at South western Bell telephone company. I made 26.00 a week. Restaurants got ten dollars of it and I paid 2.50 room rent for a pretty room in a widows home. She rented out 3 rooms and was able to survive. Survival was a goal.