Genealogists and family historians get a lot of satisfaction from chasing their ancestors’ stories. Finding a diary, a message on a postcard, or a photo with a name attached is like the sun coming out after a storm. One day we will be somebody’s ancestor. We need to leave our descendants a little bit of sunshine too. So here is my story told alphabetically, not chronologically: Growing Up in Cradock.
is for money.
I do not recall getting an allowance regularly. When I asked for an allowance, I’d sometimes be given one, but after a while it would stop. I’m not sure why. Maybe my parents forgot. Maybe I forgot. Admittedly, if I wanted money, I needed only to ask and I would receive, so a true allowance was never very important. Even when I was in high school and my friends were getting real paychecks from summer employment, I was not expected to go to work.
Sometimes though I felt obligated to be deserving of money, even as a little kid. That’s when I would create a menu of chores I was willing to perform and how much money I expected for doing so. The chores included dusting, vacuuming, making beds, sweeping the walk, and doing dishes. Of course, there were varied rates for dusting only the living room, for example, as opposed to every room in the house. My number one customer was my maternal grandmother, Lucille Rucker Davis. I think she found my little business amusing. She was one who would have gladly handed me some spare dimes and quarters for the asking, but she would hire me every time.
|Wendy and Mary Jollette August 1959|
in our grandparents' living room.
There was plenty of dusting to do!
Once in a while, maybe out of boredom, my Frailey Place friends and I would set up a Kool-Aid stand. One day our only customer was a man working on the light poles. We split our profits, but we knew it was tougher to make a buck on a Kool-Aid stand than we were led to believe by stories of great success as reported in our kid magazines.
My favorite money was the silver dollars and $2-bills that my paternal grandparents Fred and Julia Slade gave me on birthdays and Christmas. I spent the $2-bills but still have the silver coins.
Avoid malady and malaise but be malleable to being mesmerized by the maelstrom of magniloquent and mellifluous myths and metaphors offered by the mavens of the blogisphere at the A to Z April Challenge.
© 2016, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.