Being a middle child not much was expected of me. I could just glide along in my own world and have fun. My second to oldest sister, Jean, a cheerleader, liked having a side-kick, so she made me a miniature cheerleader's outfit. With my long, curly, brown locks, I was a hit cheering at her side at basketball games. When I was chosen to be the State of Liberty in a school play, Jean fashioned a Greek toga out of old bed sheets. She let me play with her lipstick and wear her mascara. In turn, we shared dish duty at night. She washed, I dried and to bring me up to cupboard level she put chairs together with leaves from the table to make what she called a "running board."
From her waitressing job on Saturdays she bought my first magazine subscription. Instructions taught us how to make bird feeders out of bacon grease and bread crumbs and weave paper mats for the kitchen table. My first drawing lessons came from that magazine. It was thrilling when the mailman delivered it each month.
Jean brought home books from the school library. Kettle Head was a favorite about a bad child who burned off her head playing with fire. The servants replaced her head with a kitchen pot (with a handle sticking out one side) and drew a face on it. Her parents, otherwise occupied never noticed that she was missing her head. Jean repeatedly checked out that book and we never tired of the story until she bought home The Monkey's Paw. With lights dimmed, she provided sound effects, scratching when the wind blew and knocking when a stranger arrives bearing a shrivelled monkey's paw guaranteed to grant three wishes. Jean was also skilled at pretending to sew her fingers together and decades before Zombies were popular, she taught me how to the erase eyes from poeple in magazines.
The journal called Angels Watch Over Us is intended for writing about how we're guarded from harm by beings with our best interests at heart. My angels were earth-bound-----my sisters who, to this day remain my best friends.
