The big ceramic crock sat a dark corner of our crowded and dusty utility room. It was a mystery unsolved by my eight-year-old mind. I was forbidden to ever lift the lid and could only stare at it, imagining how it would sound and smell if I broke the rules and raised the top. What would I find inside? Would it be something good that my parents weren’t sharing with me? Or maybe it would be something bad — a tragic family secret long hidden away from prying eyes. I didn’t learn until many years later what exactly was in that crock.
|Mom (left front) with her |
sister-in-law (The Aunts).
|Easter the year I turned 4 (pre-bigfoot |
days). That's me left front, Annette
on the right, Mickey is in the back
behind me. (You may remember
Aunt Alice from another post, that's
her carrying the basket and my cousin James just behind Annette.