[QUOTE=Queen Bruin]
My life would be a wreck without the other women in my life - my Mom,** Cheez_Whia**, who made me the woman I am today (although I’m not sure she’d care to own up to that! ;)). My Aunt B, who always did and still does spoil me rotten in between feeding me and offering support and advice. My Grandmother, who I have referred to often as my personal lord and savior, a tiny woman with a big heart, a steel spine, and a shrewd perspective. And even my sister, who may be a childish pain in the ass most of the time but who I think really loves me and would do anything for me (as I would for her). And my BFF, even though we live far apart and fall in and out of contact, I know I can call her any time I need to and we can bitch for hours with martinis over the abyss.
[/QUOTE]
I come from a line of strong, independent women with spines of stainless steel, :). My grandma (my mother’s mother) was a divorced single parent during the Depression. Married and divorced three times, she supported her kids by baking pies for a local restaurant, taking in laundry, and washing windows. I spent a lot of time at her house when I was little, as my mother was working at a turkey processing plant that had mandatory overtime (more on this in a bit). She could grow anything, and always had a truck garden in her back yard, and a flower garden in the front. When my sister, QB’s Aunt B, got married, her flowers came from my grandmother’s garden. I still miss her, and her wonderful molasses cookies that we have not been able to duplicate!
My own mother was married to my Dad from Valentine’s Day, 1943, until his death last autumn. She worked full time from the age of 14, with a few breaks when her babies were little, to augment the family income, as neither of my parents had graduated from High School. She was working in a turkey processing plant when I was small, during the time when a woman could legally be paid less than a man for the same work. Disliking this, she applied for a position that paid a woman the same as a man’s wage: Hock Cutter. This was cutting the feet off as the turkeys came whizzing past on the production line. Injuries at this job were common and severe; only two hock cutters worked on the entire line. This job was done by my mother, and another woman, Linda, both experts at getting their knives where they needed to go without cutting themselves or each other. Male trainees sent to learn this job never made it past the first shift, either by injuring themselves, or quitting. She was finally able to quit when I was 12, and only worked one other job when finances got tough: blasting cap packer at Bermite, and this was only for a few months. She’s been retired since then, if retired means helping her kids raise their kids, and the neighbor’s kids, too. She’s 82 now, and growing frail. However, that doesn’t keep her from expressing her opinions, which I listen to carefully!
I proud of both of my daughters, who are as different as night and day. Queen Bruin, of course, is a Doper here, and has worked and struggled a lot in her 27 years. She has consistently refused a bus ticket home when things looked bleak, and did what she had to do to get her degree. She has more work ahead; law school is on her schedule next. I have no doubt she will make it! My other daughter has fought very different fights, and she would jump down a dragon’s throat to save anyone she loves, including her sister!
This post has grown long (for me), and I haven’t touched on my sister and nieces. They have inherited the same stainless steel spine, and made their way through life’s challenges, too.
I love you all!
