Not just a wig; those are plastic flowers, too!

105053-627484-thumbnail.jpgGrowing up, my grandmother - Sally - whom we called "Mamaw" until I started calling her "Sally" during my late teen years, liked to tell people about how, as a very small child, I really didn't like her very much. In her own way she thought she'd found a way to convince me to like her, and she was proud of this accomplishment. As an older child, then a teenager, hearing the story didn't exactly surprise me - dear as she was, she had some qualities that were hard to take, too. But I never actually remembered a time when I hadn't liked her.

To be perfectly truthful, Sally was about as wacked-out crazy as anybody you'll ever meet. (I'm proud to carry around her genetic material - keeps things interesting. You never actually knew what might happen when she was nearby, and now if I find myself leading with my, er, eccentric side, I just blame it on her.) One of the things she loved to do was dress us (girls...I don't think she ever did it to my brother,) up in her clothes. And especially her wigs, which she wore as long as I could remember. The one I'm seen sporting here was closer to her hair's natural color, not unlike my own. That was before she decided to "go blonde." Which is the color wig she wore for easily the last ten years of her life.

What's interesting to me about this picture, (aside from the obvious "That kid's gonna' need therapy one day," qualities so evident - I'm asking you, Why the flowers, again? Help me understand. I mean, we were not a beauty pageant kind of family,) is the expression on my face. Brother Ev is sporting his own brand of curiosity, but could it be that unwittingly Sally captured the essence, in this picture, of all that disdain she reported that I'd felt for her in my early years? One might argue that I'm thinking to myself, even at the tender age of about 3 I'm guessing, "No, really. Something's just not right about this woman. Hello? Is anybody noticing?" But nobody noticed - not aloud, anyway. They just snapped the picture. (I'm thinking that would have been Papa - he was the one who always had the cameras.)

Anyway, she's not in the picture, but it's got her handiwork written all over it. Kinda' makes me miss her. And her wigs. And some of those crazy times, too...