Big Stuff

I was big stuff when I was little.

Here I am showing the foundation of my childhood home in Philadelphia who’s boss.   (The reality is that my dad probably asked me to go stand out in the middle of the foundation for a sense of scale.)

Prior to living in Philadelphia, we lived in Maryland, where my sister and I were born.  Here I am standing at the front door ready to head out for doubles.  I always hiked up one pant leg for good measure.

I don’t know what I am waving around in my hand in this photo.  My hypothesis is that it was a VHS that I wanted my dad to come put in the VCR in the sunroom.

After my baby doll had worn out her welcome, I used her as a pillow when watching TV on the floor.  I was a very resourceful toddler.

When I was even smaller, I used to help Papa check on the cattle.

I was taller than Papa.

Granny and I would sit on the front walk and have serious discussions about all kinds of things…like Barbie, Barney, and the Berenstain bears.

I even wrote letters to Granny before I could read.  Here is one written the year my sister, who is now a junior in college, was born.  It appears that I wrote largely in code, except for Granny’s name.

Man, I sure got my money’s worth out of childhood.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

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Clown in the Door

When I visited Kentucky in the summer as a child, I spent my time between Granny and Papa’s house and Grandmother’s house.  Because I didn’t have any cousins on my Mom’s side of the family at the time, I often requested that my cousin Lauren come with me to play at Grandmother’s house.

Naturally, we spent a lot of time playing with barbies and babydolls.  Occasionally, however, I took it upon myself to tell my poor cousin Lauren a story about Grandmother’s old house.

One day, I made up some absurd story that there was a clown trapped in this door.  I told Lauren that the clown died in there, which made the glass wavy, and that its spirit haunted the house.

I really don’t understand what my logic (if any) was in crafting this highly plausible tale, but cousin Lauren seemed to eat it right up.

I think it is relevant that the telling of this story coincided with my Nancy Drew phase.

Although it seems my goal here was to freak out my cousin, I was most successful in freaking myself out.

That darn door still gives me the creeps to this day.

I guess it serves me right.

Y’all play nice,

Sugarlump