This is a photo from the summer of 1958, when our hometown celebrated its sesquicentennial. There were several days of parades and pageants celebrating our community's humble pioneer beginnings. Men grew beards and women dressed in sunbonnets and full-skirted dresses.
I'm the child on the left, waiting while my mother adjusts my outfit. I am holding hands with Kathy, who was a few years older and the oldest daughter of my mother's best friend. Kathy looks adorable. I am pouting.
I posted this photo on Facebook in response to cousins asking about another family sesquicentennial photo, one which I could also explain.
Margo pounced on my post immediately. She saw what I had not seen in all the decades I have had that picture:
Of course it was my friend Margo who responded immediately. Margo with whom I have had long discussions about the Little House books, ranging from "what about toilets?" (Caroline Fraser addressed that burning question in her new, absolutely sublime biography of Wilder: Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder) to shaking our head over Pa scarfing down pancakes and bacon with the Wilder boys while Ma and the girls starved during the long, hard winter. Margo, my Little House comrade in arms.
Clearly some things are just meant to be.
3 comments:
Now, that's adorable. I didn't find the Little House books until I was grown, but loved them when I did. My only excuse is a childhood on Long Island, but I expect it's more likely my tastes changed over the years.
So cute, I loved the Wilder books, I read them over and over.
Love this! The photo, memory, story, and above all friendship -- all to be treasured.
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