I CANNOT EVEN COUNT---WELL GUESS I REALLY COULD --THE NUMBER OF PLACES I HAVE LIVED SINCE MY FOLKS SEPARATED. THIS ONE REALLY COUNTS AS "BARBARA LEAVES HOME".
I NEEDED A PLACE TO LIVE IF I WAS GOING TO WORK---AND I WANTED TO, AT LEAST FOR A YEAR. THEN I HOPED TO GO TO NURSING SCHOOL. THE HOUSE WAS BEAUTIFUL AND THE LADY OWNING IT WAS VERRRRRRY INTERESTING. SHE WAS FRENCH AND SPOKE RATHER BROKEN ENGLISH. WELL, NOT BROKEN, BUT SHE PRONOUNCED MANY WORDS IN A WAY YOU HAD TO STOP AND THINK ABOUT WHAT SHE HAD SAID. LIKE WHEN I TOLD HER I HAD BEEN TO A SERBIAN WEDDING WHERE THEY CALLED OUT HOW MUCH EACH GUEST HAD GIVEN IN MONEY---AND SOME GAVE LOTS---SHE SAID SHE WISHED SHE COULD FIND A RICH SIR-RIBI-ON.
MY "ROOM" WAS IN THE BASEMENT. AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE HOUSE WAS, THE BASEMENT WAS A BASEMENT. IT SMELLED LIKE A BASEMENT AND FELT LIKE A BASEMENT. I SPENT AS LITTLE TIME IN IT AS I COULD MANAGE.
No comments:
Post a Comment