The Life and Times of a Farmer's Daughter - Part One

I am born.

Apparently, I have always been talkative.

Within days of being born, I had already driven my mother to tears and beyond.  The grandparents were called in to calm someone.  Whether it was Mom or me, I'm not sure.  I just liked the sound of my own voice.  Also, I liked my mom.  No one else would do.

 Sexy glasses, Mom.  I won't mention the...is it a housedress?...

There are several stories that still get told on a regular basis at family functions about my early oratory performances. 

For their anniversary, my parents decided to have dinner out.  They left me in the care of my Uncle David.  I was approximately one week old.  He was approximately 12 years old.  I tended to cry at that  age.  A lot.  He was not aware.  As the tale goes, when Mom and Dad got back from their dinner both David and I were bawling.  I think it scarred him for life.

Apparently, I have always had the power to bring others to tears.

Later that summer, Mom and Dad decided to go fishing one afternoon at my grandparent's pond.  They left me at the house with Grandma Lois and poor Uncle David.  Grandma and David were watching a lovely television program.  I was having none of that.  Television rots your brains.  I knew it even then.  Every time they would turn up the volume, I would turn up my own.

Apparently, I have always been stubborn.

I remember none of this.

The earliest memories I do have are strange and have a dreamlike quality.  In fact, I am quite certain that I am actually mistaking some memories for the dreams they actually were.

Did I just blow your mind?

Well, if your brains haven't exploded.  Good.  Keep reading.