I’m thankful that I have a place to exercise, now that the weather has entered the cold, gray, and windy time. (And I’m also thankful that I no longer look like that – I’m about 50 pounds thinner now.)
In July of 1964, Big Al and I visited Stephen F. Austin State College (now University) in Nacogdoches, TX, to see if we wanted to finish our schooling there. We decided we wanted to, and matriculated in September. We both lived in (separate) dorms – before the days when men and women shared dorms, or living arrangements before they were married. But by June 1965 we were married and living in an apartment while Al finished school. Good Times!
In June of 1962, I graduated from Westfield Senior High School. Mama, Papa, Harriet, Betty. Billy and I loaded into the car early the next morning and drove to Texarkana. I had a job at the Girl Scout Camp waiting for me, and because New Jersey schools were in session much later than the schools in the south, I had already missed the first session of camp. No after-graduation dances or partying all night for me. Still I’m glad I did it. I loved the camp in Arkansas and was ready to leave New Jersey behind me.
Three years ago we rolled into Tacoma, and began our new life at Franke Tobey Jones. The days of wall to wall boxes and falling over each other in the one-bedroom apartment have been over for long enough that they are barely a distant memory. This was a wonderful decision we made six years ago, and all the angst of selling and not selling the house, and travel, and packing, unpacking, etc. were well worth it.
In keeping with the theme of last week, here I am with one foot in Alabama and one foot in Tennessee, on the Natchez Trace, as we were traveling from Dallas to Tacoma. (I know, you’re thinking how on earth is the Natchez Trace on the way from Dallas to Tacoma? Just believe me. We took a few detours to see family along the way, like Chicago, Nashville, Metarie, LA, etc., before we really got started.)