Here I am..I am 11 months old--and dropped off on my grandparent's doorstep...in the big, white house. We left this house when I was 4 years old, so it surprises me that I remember anything...but..I DO. My first memory was of me in a crib, and someone had tied a balloon to the corner, and as I lay there the balloon went out the window..the window that was right beside my crib...and it floated away..
I was in this house for 3 years. The big white house was attached to the back of a paint store. They sold Dutch Boy paint. I have never figured why our house was attached to the paint store..and have never asked. When I got "older", probably around 3-4..I would walk over to the paint store, and stay in there forever..looking at all the colors, and things. The owner knew me, and obviously didn't think anything of a child plundering around his place. (Can you imagine a child doing that TODAY??). I would normally leave there, and walk across the street to the dry cleaners. The dry cleaners had a magical bird..a big black bird that could talk. So, I would go to the dry cleaners, climb up on a stool, and sit there and feed the bird crackers, and teach him new words.. His name was Sam.
So..this is how I spent my days..until around 3 o'clock...That is when our housekeeper's soap opera came on, and also the very same time that the GREEN HORNET came on. I would fight every day with Tensy, she wanting to watch her show, and ME wanting to watch mine. I can still hear her saying.."Miss Suzan..you are the MEANEST child I have ever met.." I loved Tensy..she was my partner in crime, my ally...and at 3'oclock..my worst enemy! It's funny that I have no memory of my grandmother during this period of my life..but, I remember Tensy. I also remember the reason that grandpa had to fire her. One night, late..my aunt Lou had gone out, and came home. She came running into the house..yelling for grandpa (her father)..There was SOMEONE passed out in the family car. That "someone" turned out to be my beloved, Tensy..she was drunk, and passed out, and my grandfather sent her away.
I also remember the attic of that house..and the little door that lead to it...it scared me then, and it scares me now. I totally dislike attics and tiny doors. I always feel that monsters lurk on the other side..hahahah.
Life was good at the big, white house..I had plenty of attention, five of my aunts and uncles lived there too..my grandfather worked at the Naval Air Station, and every day, he would come home and bring me that little chocolate candy called "Sixlets", and we would sit outside on the big metal glider, and talk to me about his day. He would usually have buttermilk and cornbread while we sat out there. Life was good!