Another Tale Of The Brown Recluse... My Mother

When I was in fifth grade of elementary school we had been living here for almost three years, just two houses down from my two best friends. Life was as good as it could possibly get when seen through my 12-year-old eyes. Summers were filled with swimming at the Elks Club, going to YMCA Day Camp, and giggling as we let *Fizzies* dissolve in our mouths. We'd have lemonade stands, ride our bikes with reckless abandon throughout the neighborhood, playing *Kick-The-Can*, swinging until dark at the park across the street from our houses and partaking in the famous *Water Balloon Wars* we used have against all the boys in the neighborhood.

The year was 1963 and the top musical hits of that year were:
Surfin' U.S.A. and Surfer Girl by the Beach Boys
Blue Velvet by Bobby Vinton
It's My Party by Leslie Gore
Rhythm Of The Rain by The Cascades
Puff The Magic Dragon and Blowing In The Wind by Peter, Paul & Mary
Wipeout by the Surfaris
Pipeline by the Chantays
Up On The Roof by The Drifters
Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah (A Letter From Camp) by Allan Sherman
He's So Fine by The Chiffons.

Those were truly the best few years of my childhood. I loved the school I went to and I adored my teacher. For the first time in my life, I was making passing grades because we seemed to have finally settled down somewhere. Being young, I had no idea what was coming. I was sure that we'd finally found someplace we could be happy as a family, but The Brown Recluse had other plans and schemes in mind. She was always scheming and my brother and I were seldom on her mind when it came to her big plans.

In January of my fifth grade year at school, The Brown Recluse awakened my brother and me in the middle of the night, telling us both to hurry and get dressed. She instructed us to pack up all of our clothes and a few favorite toys. I remember being confused and sleepy and not wanting to pack anything. I had school in the morning. However, TBR was frantic and I was old enough to recognize when she was in a total panic and smart enough to keep my mouth shut. I did as I was told with great reluctance. There was never any arguing with The World's Greatest Guilt Maker and Drama Queen.

It was only a few weeks past Christmas and my ever elusive father (probably bought by Mimi, my Grandmother) sent me a Madame Alexander doll for Christmas. Mother wouldn't let me play it with so I would spend lots of time just looking at her... in her lovely outfit... in her lovely box. It was an Ana McGuffey doll and I adored her. So, it was only natural that I chose her as one of my toys to take along.

The Brown Recluse told me a flat out "No!" and said that it would be going into storage with our other belongings. She assured me that we would have them sent when we arrived, wherever we were going. I was devastated. I did not want to leave her behind because I knew I was going to lose her like so many other things over the years.

I knew it was happening again. We were running away from something, in the middle of the night. Again. I should explain here that TBR was always running away from failed love affairs as well as bills. I can't remember ever leaving a forwarding address whenever we escaped in the middle of the night and I was never allowed to write my former friends. That says a lot in itself. I was beginning to see a pattern in her crazy behavior, even though I was still unaware of what it really meant. I did know that it meant another new school and having to make new friends. Again. I was beginning to really hate having to go to a new school and it was getting harder and harder to make new friends. I never saw Ana or any of my other toys again.

Fast-forward to the year 2004. I was driving home from a doctor's appointment one day and noticed an estate sale that looked interesting, so I went around the block to get back to it, and parked. The deceased woman who had owned the house had been a local seamstress for like 40 years. She never had any children but she collected dolls. I felt as if I was Alice In Wonderland falling into a dream. I spent somewhere around two hours there and wound up buying 8 Madame Alexander dolls, that were all in mint condition. Ana McGuffey was among them. Then I began to worry about how I would explain this to Mr. Snoots, because I had spent $400.00.

When I told him what I'd done, I assured him I could get every penny back (and then some), but there was a catch. I told him I just wanted to keep them for a little while. I wanted to just enjoy them for a while before I sold them. I relayed the Ana story to him and he agreed to let me keep them for a while as long as I eventually sold them, profit or no profit.

Since then, I have sold four of the dolls in my online shop (for a modest, fair profit), but I'm rather reluctant to sell the last four and I just cannot understand why. Admittedly, I will NEVER sell Ana McGuffey. She is so perfect and lovely. Something leftover from childhood, within my psyche just won't allow me to part with her. I'm having a great deal of trouble parting with Alice In Wonderland as well. Hopefully, I can make enough profit on Snow White and Scarlett O'Hara to somewhat make up the difference. Well, if I hold onto them long enough. Maybe. Or not.

Yes, this would be considered another addiction collection. So sue me.

Tales Of My Mother, The Brown Recluse...

Before moving to Aspen, we lived in Oklahoma City for a time, although we constantly moved from one school district to another. There are lots of Oklahoma City School Districts within their school system. We managed to chalk up 5 just in Okie City,within three years.



TBR could never understand why I made such bad grades and constantly called me stupid because of it. Hmmm... Let's see. We were constantly moving, even in the middle of a semester and she never once even tried to help me with homework. TBR, who has a BA from Tulsa University. My brother The Prince apparently didn't need any help because his grades were outstanding. It was entirely evident that I did need some help outside of the home, which was ultimately one of the reasons she sent me off to boarding school. I thank God every day that she did send me off, since I probably would have otherwise turned out just like her. Still, it was many years before I learned that most kids my age grew up in loving, caring families where their lives were carefully planned out with parents that cared about the future of their children.


My brother and I both knew how to play every card game known to Americans and could both mix a mean Bloody Mary by the time we were each eight years old. We were also often sent to the neighborhood grocery on foot, to buy her Vogue cigarettes. We honestly had no idea that all other children in our world... were not doing these things. Neither one of us ever stayed anywhere long enough to have really close friends, so we didn't see how a lot of other people lived. Except, of course, the TBR's constantly changing array of friends.



Her friends consisted mostly of people of questionable professions, bookies, hit men, Oklahoma Senators, restaurant/bar owners, sports writers, oil men, pro golfers, stockbrokers, Jr. Leaguers, hairdressers, lawyers, pro football players and the list goes on. Mostly, they were people who liked The Night Life with Martinis and Jazz, like TBR. These people really went to Vegas a lot, and I had plenty of silver dollars that she'd brought back to us after her trips. As long as the friends were fun, they stayed around. Otherwise TBR dumped them and moved on to more entertaining new friends. No one else was allowed to have as much drama in their lives as she did, so she needed lots of good listeners. Sort of like how I always felt. She wished she could have moved on to another daughter when I turned out to be such a disappointment. Can you imagine? How can anyone wind up so completely shallow?


Anyway, she and her friends had lots of after hours places they haunted as well, so we were often awakened to come out of our rooms to meet so-and-so at the oddest hours... into the wee hours of the morning. This was also totally condusive to to all those excellent grades I wasn't making. I didn't realize it at the time I went off to Ursuline, but those nuns saved my life. They taught me so many more of the important things in life that I would never have learned at home.


Back in the 1960's in Oklahoma, gambling was illegal. It might still be illegal, I don't have a clue. Anyway, it was hot as a firecracker back then and I know there were many times when her friends were running numbers out of our house. They had to move around a lot. You know, when I saw the movie Casino with DeNiro and Sharon Stone, it reminded me a lot of those days.


One of the guys that used to drive me to school was a Harvard educated lawyer and another was a hit man (actually, I believe that he wore many hats in his business) for certain organizations. TBR always liked to make sure that we met a wide variety of people from a colorful array of professions. Maybe she thought it made us more well rounded than Sunday School. In a way, it did have an impact on us both. I'm a very cautious gambler to this day. I also hate sloppy drunks who insist on telling tasteless jokes. I can spot a *tell* or a *con* a mile away. I can usually tell when a person is lying. I learned to never give a sucker an even break and to never play the numbers. Unfortunately, during all of this education I was receiving at home, I have a funny feeling I was supposed to be learning fractions and how to conjugate verbs at school.


When we lived in Tulsa briefly, I did make the swim team, but we moved away before I could ever get to compete. Until Aspen, we had never lived long enough in any one place that I was ever able to learn a sport, so I always thought I was not a sporty girl. Until I was introduced to skiing, at any rate. Snow skiing remains the love (sport) of my life (with water skiing coming in at a red hot second) and will be until I take my last breath. It still makes me feel so free when I'm screaming down the slopes like a teenager.


I realize that some of the tales of TBR are difficult to believe by those of you who grew up in *normal* families, but I assure you that every bit of it is true. Some of it is so bizarre that I won't even be able to tell you. However, I will shock and amaze you from time to time with some of the more interesting stories about her. She was always a real piece of work. At least I can't say that I didn't have an interesting life.

Bullying Personified....

Personally, I was bullied my entire childhood by the very people who were supposed to love & nurture me, my own family. The Brown Recluse never allowed me to choose anything for myself; not shoes or clothes, high school courses or activities, nor friends. Nothing. Since what I went through never had a "name" back then, I always believed what they told me. I was told I was fat, ugly, stupid, and had better learn how to cook & clean & take care of babies, because that was all I'd ever do. However, I've happily spent 37 of my 55 years proving them wrong. I'm a successful businesswoman, a devoted wife, and a loving, nurturing mother. I'm also a jack-of-all-trades and have learned to wear many hats in my time and my life is full to the point that I won't allow bullies to penetrate my space. Ever. Again.

It also took me a long time to recognize bullying in my friends because that's how I had grown up. I grew up with a family of bullies, so I was secretly well versed at being surrounded by them. Once I figured out that those friends wanted nothing good for me, I extricated myself from them even though they continue to ridicule me to this day. In other words, I was finally able to see what I'd been allowing to happen to me all of my life. Once the beast has a label it is much easier to deal with that beast. I could care less what those people think and when they say unkind things about me & try spreading rumors about me, I am honestly sorry for them that their lives are so incomplete that they must mess with mine to make themselves feel better. I have better things to do with my time.

The way I see it, you can blame your parents for the terrible mistreatment you received growing up. Because, well, you're just a kid. Fortunately, once you are away from their clutches, you are the only person to blame if things don't go in the right direction. Being mistreated as a child leaves scars that are there for life. Those scars never go away. That said, I was still able to ascend into adulthood and take responsibility for my own life, in spite of their all-out efforts to sabotage everything I said and did. I've also found that the world is full of people who want nothing more than to bully other people and unfortunately, great numbers of these beasts exist in the working world. That's probably why I've enjoyed having an online business working for myself. I urge anyone stuck in a job where they are being bullied to flee as quickly as they can. There is always another job, another career, another corner to turn. Don't ever allow yourself to feel trapped or that there is no other option. Life is full of options.

I completely cut my family out of my life nearly 23 years ago and I can assure you that I've never been happier. Yes, it would be nice to have close family & relatives, but not if they are nothing but thorns in your side. I've been happily married for 30 years and raised two wonderful & loving children to adulthood. I was lucky enough to marry a man who is from a wonderful family. Not everyone is that lucky. If my mother & brother had been allowed to have their way, they would have ripped my family apart over & over again. Once I came to that realization, I was able to cut my puppet strings & free myself of the ugliness & hate I had suffered under for so long.

Basically, I decided that "the buck stops here" and I would never inflict any kind of pain on my children for anything in this world. It still eludes me that those who are supposed to love you could do such a thing. I just don't get it. Never have & never will. It was my own independent decision to not pass on the kind treatment I had received. I love my own children so much I simply am not able to understand why or how anyone would want to hurt their own child, physically or emotionally. Frankly, I felt cutting my family out of my life was the only recourse I had and I was right. I know that it has not been that easy for so many others. Some families can literally paralyze you, rendering you incapable of ever getting out. It turns out, I discovered early in life that I actually had a little steel in my spine. Sure, I still have the scars, but I've used them to my advantage by being who I am and accomplishing the many things I was always told I could never accomplish. That is my revenge and as the old saying goes, "Revenge is best served cold".