Grocery Store Tales V
On Tuesday morning while my Mother and I did errands, I ran into a chain building supply store to buy a ceiling fan and received good service from a female employee. After she carried it to the check-out, she handed…
On Tuesday morning while my Mother and I did errands, I ran into a chain building supply store to buy a ceiling fan and received good service from a female employee. After she carried it to the check-out, she handed…
Don’t ask me what this photographer was aiming at when he took this picture, but here we are, Mother, Steve, and me, in front of Boyd’s Market. I must have been about six years old. I’m sure that Mother had…
When I was a girl, I went to Daddy Leland’s grocery store almost every day. I felt at home all over the store–in the aisles where Daddy put up stock, at the checkout stand with Earlene the checker, in the butcher department with…
Mrs. Frances Landrum taught me English in the seventh and eighth grades. She was short, pleasingly plump (as we used to say), and gray-headed. Photos of Laura Ingalls Wilder taken after she began writing the Little House books remind me…
I told you recently about my “noble peach” mistake. It wasn’t my first public misspelling. My first was in high school. Our young and enthusiastic band director had a fresh idea for a fundraiser: a contest to see which high…
My two grandmothers both grew up in rural Robertson County, Tennessee. Though their girlhoods had many things in common, their adulthoods seemed as different as night and day in my young mind. Mama Sue’s bedroom carpet was pink. Her bathroom tile was…