Every spring on the prairies there were a zillion “teas” like we were supposed to be impressed that we were throwing off the heavy blankets of our strong coffee winters and embracing light and airy tea because nothing says spring like “tea.”
I mean it is not like we didn’t have cute little farm animals being born and pretty flowers blooming in the fields and even young men and young women getting frisky but oh my gosh … spring … tea … you get the connection right??
But we had many, many, many, spring teas. There were many. One such tea was the annual “Strawberry Tea.” They obviously were building on the “let’s throw words and concepts together that have zero connection or meaning to what we are doing” concept as I don’t ever remember there being any strawberries anywhere . . . not in the tea and not in the cakes. Strawberries don’t even grow in the spring! But we pretended.
We were women and we were all going to pretend that we all knew what we were doing and why it was happening. Women do that well. Look how we breeze through puberty and do the whole getting married, having babies and stuff. None of us has a clue what any of that is about but we fake it and we look good while we fake it. We had been snowed in for weeks. We had all lived for most of those weeks with layers and piles of clothing – much of it flannel and serviceable and some of it really tacky with mismatched patterns. Perhaps that was more to the point of why a spring tea … because it meant we could take off the flannel underwear, put on a pretty frock and let our pasty white legs feel a little sunshine. Continue reading
The carnage of those who tried to breach the wall served as a warning to the others who had ever entertained any idea of making a run for it ….
My brother read in an encyclopedia that our eyebrows are important because they, along with our eyelashes, help to keep dirt out of our eyes. He theorized that if dirt got into our eyes, we could get an infection that could get into our brain and we could die.
Please don’t ask me to explain the mind of a 9-year-old boy.
I was the victim of the crime. He lured me into the forest to, “see the nest of baby birds” he had found, tied me up to a tree and shaved off my eyebrows. He probably would have plucked out my eyelashes but I had good teeth and managed to gnaw one of the ropes off and gave him a black eye.
BTW, I am the one that got in trouble because “a punch could have caused real damage” and my eyebrows would grow back.
Why was it common practice for people to buy entire sets of encyclopaedias for their kids and never even check them out to make sure what kind of information they contained? They could have contained porn, or the complete guide to being a serial killer and they would never have known. They just unpacked the books and proudly put them in alphabetical order in the bookcase and said,”Here kids, go get educated.” How irresponsible is that? My brother used the information contained in our set of encyclopaedias to try and kill me. I just want to know where the parental security measures were then? Passwords? Lockdowns? I wonder how many children died because we spent hours reading those things without any parental supervision? Paedophiles could have left their names and numbers to become our pen pals and how would anyone have known? Continue reading