I published this on my birthday in 2009-13, took a year off last year, but I still think it tells the first part of my story, and I love the old photos of the little me…
Today is my birthday and I’ve attained a certain age. I have plans, things to do, places to go. But today I’m looking back.
(I tried to cut my own bangs–oops.)
For a few years after “the war,” I was an only child. We lived in an apartment in Chicago where I played.
I REALLY wanted to be a “cowgirl.” I dreamed of the far west. I idolized Hopalong Cassidy.
While I was running around the suburban streets pretending to be this and that, my parents were building a new house and having a new baby (or three…).
I noticed immediately that the driveway made a PERFECT stage:
Time passed and many new houses were built filling up the street. New brothers arrived, new cars.
Eventually they all moved into a bigger house, but by then I was gone, starting a new life. I moved to the far west to be a cowgirl.
Here’s to another year of fun, out on the ranch…!