I remember childhood2

I remember spending birthdays and holidays enthroned on the couch in the tv room, Mother ministering to me.  I remember hitting Cayce on the head, and when she cried and cried i was instantly remorseful, but my remorse didn't stop her tears. And I was terrified of getting in trouble.

I remember an episode, three of us are in the big boys' room. Rick is jumping on his bed and pulling down his pajama pants most daringly. John and I (unclothed? Partially clothed?) Are under the sheets of his bed. Daddy storms into the room shouting and yanking me out of the bed. I am banished to my room. "Don't you know this is wrong?!!" And my defiant and truthful answer: NO!

I remember seeing Daddy naked one time. Someone left the connecting door to their suite open, and he was walking into their bathroom. He cursed and shut the door. 

Am I remembering correctly that the parents had big parties on weekends with the bartender from the Officers' Club? Mother would make her anchovy appetizers and in the morning there would be lots of glasses lying around and full ashtrays. I think we or I tasted the leftover drinks. or else we just mixed them together. While our parents slept in and tried to nurse their hangovers.

Was there music at those parties? probably. Dancing? I doubt it. The couch was green and the carpet was green. I think the drapes were covered with big white yellow and gray flower pattern. You can see where those wrought iron chairs and coffee table would come in handy with a bunch of drunk Marines and their wives jostling about. Is this the time the chair jumped at Cayce? or was it later in California? Seems like Virginia.

I remember dancing to music on the hi-fi in that living room. Symphony Fantastique, The Firebird, or one of the musicals like Camelot or Kiss Me Kate. Scheherazade and Sinbad, Rimsky Korsakov. Or the Borodin, "On the Steppes of Central Asia." (still a favorite)

I had ballet lessons. My teacher's name is back there in memory somewhere. She was a petite brunette with a decidedly European air. So many of us little girls in our black leotards and pink tights and special pink ballet shoes. Class after class, with a live pianist, and work at the barre. I was supposed to come home and practice. First position, second position, third position, fourth and fifth positions. Plie. The recital where I was dressed as a poodle with the other little beginner girls. And I remember how I could not stand quietly in the line, but had to peer at my fellow dancers, messing up the performance. At the second year's recital, Mother fell out with the teacher over the lobster costumes. And there was a struggle over whether I would be allowed to go en pointe. Today I can see that not only was I not practicing, not doing that well in flats, but my feet were (as the teacher said) too big! I got toe shoes, but my career as a ballerina ended soon after. I don't remember having a pink leotard or a tutu, alas.

Daddy has a secretary! Annette is just as sweet as she can be for me. I remember going to see the movie Cinderella with her. She came and babysat for all of us once. Maybe more? She had one bedtime story for the boys. She had a different one for me. I wanted the one she told the boys. I felt she was disappointed. 

This belongs in California 1401 East Lomita, Orange. I remember getting my first Barbie Doll My only Barbie doll. Black hair, sloe eyes, and a striped bathing suit. But there was another doll, with jointed arms and legs, supposed to be a dancer. 

I remember one summer Mother had decided on improving us. Johnny and I were forced to participate in French lessons from a record. M. Lenoir, la chatte. Sur la table. Ou est this and ou sont that. Mother, too, was going to learn Russian from records. Not sure how long it lasted. It was rather desole.

This house has a Family/Dining room where the TV is set up. Mother's family heirloom giant round dining table is in this room. My piano. Was there a fireplace as well? Sliding glass doors open onto a concrete patio. Perhaps the living room also has sliding doors that open onto this patio. The yards in front and back are a strange ground cover called dichondra. It has to be watered with the automatic sprinklers daily. There are plantings around the edges. Poinsettias are among the exotic flowers Mother grows. Growing plants becomes something she is interested in. 

There are lots of snails in the yard. I make a science project of the snails. If starving will they become cannibals? No. They will die. I will then prepare them for cooking so as to have some result of this massive failure. There is a particular pesticide for snails and slugs, it is some kind of red pellets. I am not grossed out by slimy snails. I also learn nothing about science from them. 

I was a subscriber to Mad Magazine! and there was a record with one issue with a song: "Nose Job." I can still sing it. And the Tom Lehrer record I loved to listen to and memorize. I can sing some of those, as well. And other parodies of songs that appeared in Mad. I would march around our California subdivision singing those songs at the top of my voice! 

The house on Lomita Street has three bedrooms and two baths. The boys were supposed to bunk together in the small bedroom, the one with windows onto the front porch. The girls were supposed to share the big bedroom with the built-in desk. However, I received some kind of junior makeup kit for Christmas, and my baby brother and sister made free with its contents. My indignant shrieking led to rearrangement. The boys got the big room. I got the smaller room, and Cayce got nothing. I think she slept in the living room? Or was there a cot set up in another room? I'm still feeling awful about that. Not my decision, but still.

Mother swears a lot in California. She finds new fresh foods like mushrooms and avocados and goes all weird about Rodale and religion, too. Cayce has a pet rat. We also have cats. We sit on the linoleum in the family room to watch Leonard Bernstein's Concerts for Children. And to watch Uncle Luther's cartoon show. Uncle Luther blows a kiss and we screech and dodge it!

I am in the choir. We wear green satin robes and funny hats with white cottas. I find kneeling and singing all during communion to be too hard and often have to sit back or even leave. We sang at a funeral, the song We Are Climbing Jacob's Ladder. I am confirmed in California at Holy Trinity church. I remember my first communion, and how I felt Mother dampened the happiness. 

There was also a pageant at Christmas. Mother was of course involved in some directorial role, but the priest's son, poor little whats-his-name, was chosen (as they always are) to play a pivotal role. He had to make a speech about "the hated Herod." But he could not remember to say it. "The hated Horrid" became a byword at our house. I don't remember what my role was, if any, but I remember the rehearsals. Probably I was a silent angel. 

She then decided that Johnny would be instructed by someone better at a different church, and drove him to Anaheim for instruction weekly. I don't remember attending his confirmation service. But I do remember meeting the cutest monk at that distant church! He wore white robes and was just adorable, dark hair and eyes. He knew how I was affected. We were leaving, and going back to Decatur, Georgia, and he told me I could research convents there. He also mentioned something about asking them what nuns wore under their habits.

After years of pleading, I am given a piano and lessons. I have to practice in the family room. I hate it, every mistake so public. No one is mean to me (except me!), but practicing is agony. The lessons last for a year or two? but after one recital where I cannot seem to hit a single correct note, they end. During my piano phase, Mother tries one summer to get me to play with the band during summer school. I only last a day or two. 

A nun came to speak at church, Dr. Gladys Falshaw (or was this in Decatur? yes, perhaps it was). Mother learned about FGM, female genital mutilation, and shared her knowledge with me. I remember the shards of coke bottle. I had no idea why she would tell me this. I forgot as much as I could.