The Best School Year – Sophomore Year

Sophomore year just has to be the best year of high school, or at least it is in my memory. You are no longer the "fish" and you have yet to become the "snob" of your senior year. FREEDOM seems to describe my 10^th grade of high school. Continuing on my journey to post my youth with Mommy Piggy Tales.
The school year 1976 to 1977!

The first year of Steppers..now check out those guns in my house...wonder why the boys were  afraid of my dad?

With hand-sewn and custom designed uniforms, the "Steppers" would make their debut the fall of 1977. We were allowed a limited number of football, assembly and basketball appearances the first year. We were small but determined and I had found my niche. I would cherish, and in some ways "mother" these girls. With our volunteer sponsor, we would bring a new tradition to the old establishment. Our first football appearance was a hoe-down with hay bales. My "older brother" (future husband) would attend this game and help to get the hay on the field. He would stay in the stands with my friend Kathy, whom he called "string bean". Watching with "older brother" pride, he would watch me step onto the field. (Now remind you he had dated a UT twirler and was then dating a UT cheerleader, as he finished up his senior year at UT)

I would continue to ride the bus to school (until I got my license) and was only allowed to drive to school if there was a reason for me to be early or late. Having a car at school meant you could leave for lunch. We were allowed to leave on our own or with other drivers…this became the objective of the day... to see how you could get away for lunch. Since my parents only allotted me enough money for the school lunches, I would save a day or two of my lunch money in order to be able to eat out.


School meant classes and something you had to do. My grades would remain high, allowing me to continue in leadership over the drill team. PE requirements would be obtained through drill team preparation classes that I would lead. Other than taking tennis my freshman year, I never took another PE class, other than dance.

My father would continue to coach the church basketball teams. My future husband would continue to play and the all the guys would make regular visits to our house. I established some very dear friendships with different guys on the teams. Youth would continue with Bible Study, Revivals, All-Night Lock-ins and Sunday School. This was the time when most churches felt if the kids were at the church building, they were less likely to be involved in drugs. Youth leaders were hired to fill the calendar with activities and an old personage was turned into the youth building.

January would bring my license and age "16"!!! Now when you finally get your license, your whole world changes!!!!!!!!! My father, in his engineering mind, made sure his first born daughter knew all there was to know about a car. I was required to know how to change oil, change my own tire (neither of which I have ever done in 33 years of driving) and learn to drive a standard. The family car that I would speed  uh, drive around town in was a 1977 Honda Civic, which would carry me 50 miles on a gallon of gas. So, the fear I had in junior high of never driving didn't come true. Figuring out excuses to go somewhere became a full time job. I fell in love with driving and just chilling out behind the wheel of my little "can" orange car. At church the guys were known for taking my car and turning it sideways in between two parked cars!!!


Wednesday night at church, I would receive an "older brother" birthday talk from my husband-to-be.  It was not unusual to spend the time between church supper and the service sitting beside him while he played the church piano.  This Wednesday night, I would sit on the piano bench while he sang and then listen as he offered his "grown-up" advice to his future wife on her "16" birthday.

Age 16 also allowed me to legally date, (yes I did sneak out on a date one time…and got caught) which didn't matter much since, I would only date about a half a dozen times before seriously dating my husband to be, even though I would spend time with different guys through the year. This was the age that you swore the whole world of girls had countless offers each week and you were the only one who stayed home…some things don't change. I would fill in my weekends shopping on Saturday with my dating girlfriends and finding different options for group entertainment. Movies would be a big departure for those of us who weren't being asked out.


My family would start to deal with some of the same struggles as other families during this time...my sibling would chose to become involved with alcohol and drugs.  Her decision would bring strain on our family, at the same time it would challenge my faith.  I would learn to take what I believed and make it my own through times of prayer for my family's struggle and Bible reading.  This struggle would continue until after I married.

Summer between my sophomore and junior year would bring a mission trip and DRILL TEAM CAMP!!! Life was just great!!! New adventures every day and just the joy of growing into a young adult brought me continued fulfillment.  Even with struggles at home God would continue to give me a place of refuge in Him and other outlets.

Let's Go Panthers - 7th Grade

...Continuing down memory land to tell my story from birth to age 18 with Mommy Piggy Tales in fifteen posts and  I am now over halfway.  I hope this inspires you to join in telling your own story.

My precious grandmother joined our family on our summer vacation to Arkansas prior to seventh grade. On our trip, we searched through roadside junkyard-antiques for an iron bed which we tied, Beverly Hillbilly Style, upon our trusty station wagon for the ride home.  This new bed would begin my bedroom decorating - this time more subtle.  My bed would be sandblasted white and adorned with gingham check blue and white. My room would hold a large, cubed-legged, modern, white kitchen table without the chairs. This large table was big enough for studying and sewing.   Side tables would be cube-legged-square white tables, where my alarm clock/radio would rest.  I would go to sleep with music and wake up with music.

Janette's Top Billboard Songs for 1975 and 1976

Hooked on a Feeling, The Streak, Billy Don't Be a Hero, I Honestly Love You, Love Will Keep Us Together, One of These Nights, The Best of My Love, Lovin' You, The Hustle, Mandy

With my metal mouth, long hair, standing 5'6" and sewn clothes, I would confidently enter Junior High. 

•  Old life friends from my past neighborhood would be bussed  to my new Junior High, making this year a year of reunions and new friendships
• I would ride a school bus for the first time to my out-of-the neighborhood school, walking to the bus stop would continue until I drove and was allowed to use the car
• Lockers - combination locks that I had to memorize - six classes, different teachers - five minutes between each class - crowded halls - what excitement!!!
• PE class - SHOWERS!!!!!!!!!!! UGH!!! - running around the school fence, can you say humiliation?
• Joining the pep squad, I would release my vocal ability and support our football team.  Each week we would enter our pep squad bus to different football fields, after we had rallied the school "spirit" in the morning pep rally.  I would wear my uniform with pin on "spirit" ribbons....red and blue ribbons in my hair
• My fingernails grew and became the envy of "mean" girls at school....cliques would form
• We would have 50's day at school
• Slumber parties were almost every weekend...some I didn't get invited to. Instead, to cheer me up, my house was papered by friends....this meant you were liked
• Boy/girl parties were the rave (no I have never allowed mine to go to any of these) they were pretty harmless, spin the bottle was played  to pick who you would kiss....very uncomfortable indeed and the fear of those of us who had braces getting them locked kept the game to pecks only
• I would sew almost every outfit I wore....usually just days before the event - my dress for the Junior High dance,  my dress for Valentine's Banquet, party outfit and daily wear

• I attended my first Valentine Banquet at church with a date...along with high school students 
• I attended my first school dance.  (I would never attend another dance or prom.) This was the year where the girls stood on one side of the gym and the boys on the other...very few danced, mainly 8th graders
• I would continue taking piano lessons...my sister was better, but I learned to play the piano to release stress - I haven't touched it in years, but my children and husband's fingers dance across our piano
• I tried out for cheerleader...didn't make it, oh well!
• I had my first and only boy/girl party.  I made matching outfits for my friend and I.  Our garage was converted into a game room.  We decorated with streamers and played a lot of games - it was fun!
• I would get my first yearbook...where we wrote to each other that we would be friends for "life"

• Summer would bring the first of many youth choir trips.  I would be among the youngest to go.  Because I was one of the youngest, the older girls felt it was their "duty" to make me look more stylish.  So, to my mother's horror, one would pluck out my "Brook Shield" massive eyebrows to one single line of hair!  Many of these high school girls would become life time friends as I started to establish a group of older friends
• We lead revivals and performed "Agape" in Kansas City and at the Gainesville boys prison
• Gas crisis - 55 MPH speed limit enforced across nation to conserve gas - I believed I would never get to drive a car because of cost...I was so worried about missing this rite-of-passage driver's license
•  Helter Skelter - book about Charles Manson is released and tops the New York Bestsellers List
• Watergate Scandal shakes the nation
• With all that changed in the world around me, I still continued to dream of my future life. 
• 
  

The Most Pivotal Year

My sixth grade school year of 1972 to 1973 had to be the most pivotal year of my youth because it would propel my future.

Starting back at my familiar school, in my final year of elementary education, I became aware of politics when our school held the Presidential Elections. Nixon won in our school elections and was victorious across the nation weeks later. I remember feeling so "wise" because we had elected the same President that the nation also elected…now history shows that was probably a mistake.

In the fall of 1972, with many of my lifelong friends, I would become a Little League Longhorn cheerleader. When the team won its district, we were given the privilege of following the players to Dallas, Texas for the playoffs. We all stayed at a hotel…calling each other through the hotel phones, giggling and dressing up in our "piggy tails" and cheer leading uniforms, we would cheer the team through their games. This exciting trip would end my school year, just months after my family's newest adventure.

With great excitement and much anticipation from my mom, we began to look for a house that same school year. My Dad had been successful in starting his own business and Mom was ready for a larger house. Excitement built for this new transition for our family – one possibility was an anti-bellum home with a "Gone with the Wind" staircase leading to the vast upstairs. My sister and I dreamed of how life would be in this grand home, which also possessed an outside carriage house. Our dreams would have to be altered because there was too much renovation needed. Instead, we moved out of our 1100 square-foot home to our modern-day mansion of 2800 square feet. My mother would no longer have nightmares of us going into our teen years in our one-bath home. This new home contained five bedrooms and two-and-a-half bathrooms. The kid's bathroom was huge with double sinks, which would more than accommodate four children. The wallpaper (this was the first time for us to have wallpaper) was orange, octagon shapes outlined in metallic silver, with huge make-up ball lights that could heat up the room. My sister would spend hours singing commercials in front of this six-foot-long mirror. The carpet was orange shag throughout, except my mother's room, which had red shag. The master bedroom had a full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto the Austin Skyline. We could now see the University of Texas tower turn orange after victories.

My sister and I, my siblings and old neighbors

I now had my own bedroom! My room was situated at the front of the house with a floor-to-ceiling window and, while admiring the moon and stars, I would dream of my future. (This would remain my home until my first home with my husband.) The large school playground across the street would lure me to walk over and just sit in the swing at night through my teen years and think…much like I had done as a child at my grandparents' farm. Our home was also just a block from a large river where we would raft. This river was known for having nude bathers, so as we would descend to the water's banks, we would listen for our Dad's warning. His alarm words were "wrinkled potatoes", which meant "look the other way", but stood for what he felt they looked like. We would get past the bathers and put our inner tubes into the rapid river and ride down for miles.

I am on the left, first girl, in a black and white full length dress with my piggy tail

I entered a new elementary school to finish up the year. These new friends would be classmates through high school. Cliques were already starting at this age, but since I was new, I was unaware of them until the following year. I performed in the musical that year as one of the sisters in "Fiddler on the Roof." We would sing "Matchmaker" – what a song for dreamy-eyed-girls! Of course this was the year of crushes on boys and "real boyfriends". I still own the necklace I received this year from my "boyfriend" and the other day I looked up and burst into laughter to see it dangling from my daughter's car mirror. This was the year all of us girls read, "It is Me God, Margaret" and chanting at slumber parties... "we must, we must, we must increase our bust." Neighborhood friendships, sleep-overs, running around the neighborhood playing hide and seek with the boys, filled my spring and summer evenings! Excitement built for junior high school. Braces were the new jewelry for many of my classmates and me, so summer brought us these new accessories. This was the first time in my life that I came into contact with friends who had divorced parents. This was a new concept to see my friends going home to an empty house. Most of my classmates came from church-attending families with married parents with a stay-at-home mom. I would be introduced to different denominations by attending church with friends. It was truly a year of new experiences.

Our new church!

This move also brought my greatest life-altering change. My parents would change our church membership. This change would put me in the same church with my future husband, who in this same year graduated from high school. This church body would be very critical in my spiritual growth, as well as lifelong friendships.

I can truly say that everything good that was formed in my life came out of this transitional year. I would not be who I am today, had my parents not moved my family to a new home and church body. Looking back, I rejoice over the steps that God ordered in my life.

This was the last year that I feel I lived in complete innocence…junior high would burst that bubble, but the opening of my eyes didn't keep me from enjoying the wonder of these years.

Again, I have joined with Mommy Piggy Tale to document my youth in 15 posts. Thanks for joining me down memory lane. I hope you have enjoyed reliving your own youth as you read mine, but more importantly, I hope you would begin to record your youth for your own children and grandchildren. I know it has put an extra jump in my step, as I recall all the energy I used to possess.


 

Feeling Groovy Year - 5th Grade

Remembering back to fifth grade, the years of 1971 to 1972, I start to sing this song.  The song was already old by the time I hit 5th grade, but it reminds me of the feelings during that era.  Peace signs weren’t allowed in our home, nor many of the popular singing groups, but I still heard the songs of that time. Country music was the norm in our home...I guess they thought was it more wholesome.  My father had very strong opinions against VW because of their connection with Hitler.  Drugs and flower children were seen around our liberal University city. “Feelin’ Groovy” would describe this laid back time of my life, even if the country was still dealing with war.

Our family still lived in a 1100 square feet home with one bath and six residents. I never remember feeling cramped, even though my mother retells how hard it was for her to organize all of us.

During these years, my mother inspired my sister and I to expand our creative side by decorating our room.  Dad built custom- designed bookshelves with a desk attached to the wall.  We had two windows on different walls and a shared bed.  We went to work.  Our choice – the closet door was painted in enamel florescent orange we found  with multi-"put-ons," daisies in yellow, pink, green which were arranged all over the closet door.  Our windows had lime polka-dotted awning curtains with orange zigzag rickrack trim.  The desk top was painted in enamel yellow….was that bright enough?  The multi-colors adorned our bed.

I would enjoy girl scouts again and go off to over-night camp. I still possess the tie with autographs from my fellow campers.  I played hand-bells during the school Christmas program. My school activities included choir and patrolette, along with Texas Readers Club.  I continued to learn to sew, as learned skills were placed as a top priority over reading.  I never remember my parents reading, even though I am sure they did.  My father read Gun and Ammo magazines stored in the bathroom.  Instead of reading time, I would learn to cook, sew, embroidery, how to shoot a gun as well as barrel riding on my grandfather’s horse.  I remember joining my father on all of the outdoor chores from shoveling dirt (and manure), planting a  garden and mowing the grass.  Our hands were never idle.


I am continuing on my journey of recording my youth in 15 post with Mommy Piggy Tale...I am half way there.  

One of My Favorite Years

There are just those years of life and school that just jump from the pages of your memory; fourth grade was one of those years. It was just a special year. I remember the boys realized that we girls existed, because we knew they had existed for years. I remember the boys "harassing us" and us girls giggling and giggling. Of course the boy that you hit or chased the most was the one you liked.

I loved my teacher. She was a seasoned teacher, much older than my first three teachers. She loved history and made it come alive, making it the only subject I remember from fourth grade. Books that I read….I have no clue. 

My fondest memory of school that year was...rubbed on pantyhose. Each morning, after arriving at school, a group of girls would meet in the entry way bathroom. I don't know who brought it, but one girl had access to leg cream that would make our legs look like we were wearing pantyhose. I am sure our mother's forbid us from wearing pantyhose because we weren't old enough, but we knew how to have the look. Meeting in the bathroom we would take off our socks and rub down our legs with the cream. On our way home we would meet in the bathroom to wash our legs off….I just have to laugh, don't you know those teachers saw our streaked legs and giggled in the teacher's lounge? We felt we were "so grown up" and had pulled something over on our moms. Feeling stylish with my side pony tail, it was a year of feeling "big".

This was the time of the Cold War with Russia and the country still prepared in case of an attack. We would have bomb drills. We would be led out into the hall to curl up in a fetal position with our hands clasp around the back of our necks, for protection. It seemed like we would stay there forever, but it brought a welcome change in the school day. Fire drills were our favorite distraction because we would go outside and everyone would talk, while the teachers were telling us to be quite. My children have all been homeschooled and had their first fire drill in college.
                                                                                
I started Girl Scouts having finished Brownies. This included selling cookies and summer camp. Summer day camp was good food, lots of girls, crafts and salt pills at lunch.
 

My sister and I would start outside lessons. This year we tried baton and ballet. The baton was so much fun. We would take it outside and throw it up as high as we could in the air, then attempt to catch it as it came back to the earth…I don't remember many successful catches, but I do remember the laughter and the bruised arms. Ballet was just wonderful. We would perform in front of my parents, who tell the story of trying not to laugh, while my sister and I would try to show them our graceful new dances. One of us was very coordinated while the other one was all arms. Let's just say my sister's talent wasn't in dance, but she passed me up in her piano playing. I would be very serious about my ballet, while my sister, 14 months younger, would be more captivated by the giggles of the viewers. She would perform, while I would work on my skills.

Our family would also venture out for another family vacation. This summer we would mark the states that we had covered…Louisiana, Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Mississippi and part of Illinois. We boarded a show boat in Mississippi, and visited two Indian reservations.

I rode a banana seat bike. Listened to Beach Boys on 45 records…Beatles weren't ever allowed in our house. We watched the Sonny and Cher Show and Carol Barnett on our single television in our family den. My father usually enjoyed his evening outside in his shop making bullets and custom-made knifes.

We cut down a "huge" Christmas tree from a friend's land. It was so large it extended from the tail pipe of our station wagon to the hood ornament on the front. When we got it home we wondered what we were thinking…shoving it through the door it couldn't even stand up in our house. My engineer father was undaunted by the size, pulled out his saw to cut off the truck and then nailed it the beam in our A-frame ceiling. The branches were so far apart that my mother used them like shelves for our gifts. So instead of gifts surrounding the tree they were up in the tree.

Just a sweet time of life!

I am continuing on my journey with Mommy Piggy Tales, where we are recording our youth for our children.



 

I Know Where I Was

( I am on the right in both bottom pictures, my sister and I are in jumpsuits made by our mom, red and black)

The summer of 1969 was the first memorable vacation for our family of six, meaning the traditional vacation of going in a car to visit unknown places of adventure. This was the years of the "woody"station wagon, luggage carrier on top, seats that face each other in the far back. Our family headed for Colorado. Adventures of memorable events flood my mind as I walk back through that summer. My brother was a baby, so our necessary luggage would be more than could be safely stored inside the car. My father, an engineer, who has never been known for not tying down items to the max, had a vacation of challenges. You have seen it! That's right, while traveling to our next destination, my father, one of those vacation drivers who doesn't enjoy t slowly moving toward a point, but how fast can you make it there with the fewest stops, was charging forward. I am sure his head strong determination was caused by a car load of four kids. While moving forward on our timed schedule my Dad heard someone honking at him. Not knowing what he could have possible done to aggravate the other driver he finally decided to give into the demands. Sure enough, the unthinkable had happened…the suitcase had left its designated position and proceed to fly through the air leaving our vacation clothes, more importantly the baby items, thrown along the road! Collecting our possession we set out to continue our eventful vacation.

We went to Colorado from our home in Texas. Us kids would bug my Dad every night for a hotel that had a swimming pool, there were few in that day. I am sure my parents just "sighed" over the fact that swimming in a pool was bigger deal than seeing the whole state of Colorado. One evening we stopped for the day. We were all settling down for the night when the baby's pacifier couldn't be found. We couldn't find it anywhere and there wasn't going to be any sleep for the rest of us unless one was found. In those days stores closed down…I mean shut their doors by five and you waited until the next day. Driving all over the unfamiliar city, my poor determined Dad searched until he found a pacifier which calmed my brother for the evening.

                                                                             
We would visit snow on the top of the mountains in Colorado while dressed in our summer shorts. The wonder of Carlsbad Caverns is still engrained in my head along with the Great Sand dunes. New Mexico and Colorado were beautiful states. Colorado would become a favorite vacation spot as well as my Dad's favorite place to hunt through the years.

Haven't you been asked, "where were you when….happened?" Well I remember where I was on this historical event. At this point in history we all set before the black and white television in the hotel on our vacation (televisions didn't always come with rooms either) we stared at the screen. July 20, 1969 we watched and heard these words through the snowy picture on the television, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." as Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon. So when asked if I know where I was when man stepped on the moon, I can resound with a yes!!!

                                              
Third Grade

This year brought the beginning of Girl Scouts, slumber parties and a birthday party with girls!!! One of the girl's daughters would later be a flower girl in my own wedding. Still involved in church and my parents worked with the youth.

(I am center right with a head band on the second roll)
These are the last recorded writings from my mother in my baby book. I am sure life became fuller as mine has as a mother.

Teacher Mrs. Weber – "She is doing very well, pushes herself and often expects too much from herself. Celebrated her birthday with a big party, lots of fun. Received "handwriting" and "all around" awards at the end of the school year."

I still have many of my class mates' school pictures. We seem to look much older than my children did when they were in third grade.

Life still simple, mother a stay-at-home mom would continue to create a warm and enjoyable environment for her children. My Dad would work a night job to pay for all that was required and later allow him to own his own business.


Television consisted of Monday night "Gunsmoke" and a few cartoons on Saturday morning before chores. I remember news reports about the Vietnam War with pictures in black and white.  We went to bed early.  We had six people in a house that was 1100 square feet with only one bathroom and I never thought it was small.


Continuing down memory lane with Mommy's Piggy Tales, where we are recording our youth.




 

New Siblings - Recorded History Event

Pictures, letters, cards, scrapbooks, and aged toys are now scattered through my newly-claimed craft room, as my forty-nine-year-old brain tries to recover the memories of my youth. This journey with Mommy's Piggy Tales has already been so precious. This is week 3 of 15 recording the days of our youth through age 18....aren't you glad it doesn't go past that? This week I will cover first and second grades...even though my memory is lacking. Thanks for joining me in these memorable postings.

The carefree days of summer in 1966 were interrupted by a cautious, yet fearful dad. My mother didn't repeat details, there wasn't time as she gathered us all together to go hide under her king-size bed. With the radio blaring and attached to the phone, the details were being aired across the airwaves of Austin, Texas. There was shooting coming from some unknown source and how many shooters no one knew. My father worked for the Highway Department just minutes from the UT campus. We, however, lived miles away. Since no one was sure what was happening, he called to have Mother move us to safety. As the details unfolded, we were allowed to come out from under our shelter. On August 1, 1966, a deranged and heavily-armed young man named Charles Whitman would climb up to the observation deck of the University of Texas Tower. He would proceed to leave 14 dead and 32 wounded. Etched forever in my memory, as well as the Texas history books, the tower would never be viewed the same way. The observation decks were closed and the fall semester would start with mourning.

Since I can recall so little of these years in school, I referred back to my baby book. In my mother's words, "Janette learned very well and rapidly with Mrs. Hyde. (She was my second teacher in first grade that year)  This teacher gave Janette faith in herself.  She did very well in writing and received a handwriting award.  She was a shy child. She tends to demand too much of herself.(don't think I have ever outgrown that).  She walked four blocks to school each day and returned home to play with her baby sister.  She got an electric sewing machine (which I still possess) for her seventh birthday, and made a cake  from her Easy-bake Oven for her birthday, but it was a flop."

My memory of first grade consists only of this one story.  I wore new shoes to school one day, anticipating compliments I am sure.  When Tracy- that is all I remember about her, not her face, not her last name, nor her being around any other time in my school history.  She preceded, to not compliment my shoes, but instead to draw her foot up and stomp on my shoe!  With expressions of horror I said, "Those are my new shoes!"  She retaliated, "not anymore!"

I also survived through misguided teaching of the experimental "look-and-say" method of reading.  God is good to redeem what was a long road of learning through tutors and to bring me through my college education with excellent grades.  Today, my bulging bookshelves of favorite reading books are testimonies to my love of reading as an adult.

Second grade was Mrs. Edwards....a reason for never having any child go to school.  As my baby book says, "She had a very non-cooperative teacher with a high temper. (that was nice, but all I remember is she threw fits and cried).  Janette became afraid of her, slowing her rapid pace of learning, even though her grades remained good. She would receive the All-Around Award at the end of school year...the highest award given."

Life was more than school

• a baby sister to rock
• first-time boyfriend
• playing with the loads of kids in our neighborhood
• catching lightening bugs - fireflies
• riding horses at my grandfather's farm
• visiting the ranch with my grandmother and cousins
• canning and sewing for each new school year with my grandmother
• birthday cards from both grandmothers with a crisp new dollar bill
• track and field day at school....dancing around the May Pole
• hand-cranked ice-cream....camping
• a mother who got so excited about Christmas that we would sometimes celebrate early
• a handmade train of boxes painted as train cars to hold our Christmas gifts
• sleeping on my grandparents back screened-in porch, hearing nature and feeling the strong wind
• clothes specially sewn by my seamstress mother
• another pregnancy for my mom

How very sweet and precious this journey has already been.  If you aren't a part of this, I would encourage you to start your own recording of your youth. I am sure it will bring tears and smiles along the way.  Recording for future generations?....priceless.

My Spiritual Birth

Continuing in my journey with Mommy's Piggy Tales, I am sharing my life at age five this week and then combining my school years.  For many, this year is the year of Kindergarten, but when I was five, Kindergarten wasn't mandatory in my school district. Therefore, my mother kept me at home with her. I would enter my school years at the age of 6, while enjoying age five at home with my mom and sister.

My parents are Christians; therefore, I was raised in the church.  I hold certificates of my promotions out of each year in the nursery, as well as certificates for my participation in Vacation Bible School each year.  My father held the seat of Chairman of the Deacons throughout my life and my mother held other positions open to the women in the church.  VBS was usually the largest event of the year.  My mother was always a worker and believer in this ministry of the church.

With that background, it would be assumed that my sister and I would be in attendance for every church service.  VBS was no exception and an instrument in my spiritual training.  This event holds cherished memories of us loading up the station wagon with neighborhood children and heading to the church.

August of 1966 saw Vacation Bible School finishing off our summer.  I would make a lifetime-altering decision during this VBS.  By the end, I had committed my life to Christ.  Because of my young age, my parents made an appointment with the pastor to make sure he felt confident that I knew what I was doing.

After our visit with the pastor he told my parents he felt sure I knew what I was doing.  I had a clear understanding that I was a sinner, that nothing I could do would get me into heaven and that salvation was a gift that couldn't be earned.  With his reassurance, I was allowed to make the next step by myself.

One Sunday evening, I knew it was time to come before the congregation at the altar call to publicly accept Christ as my Savior and Lord.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  Beside me in the pew was a very tall man, or at least tall to a five-year-old.  I would have to ask him if I could get by him.  Laying my fear aside and with great determination, I asked to pass.  I stepped out into the aisle. The invitational song was being sung... maybe "Just As I Am".  My memory says it was the longest walk you could walk, whereas reality was I was in a very small church.  The long walk ended at the hands of my pastor, who then knelt with me in prayer.

Believing in complete emursion into water for water baptism, I completed my act of obedience weeks later.  I will not forget that either.  I know God sees our hearts and must have smiled when a scared girl went into the water for baptism.  I was so short that when the pastor leaned me back my feet went out from under me and I came back up with a splash!  I am sure the angels giggle at the site, as well as the members of our congregation.

From the moment of my salvation, I would desire to tell the world about Christ.  My parents said that I would share Christ with anyone who would listen.  I remember talking to all the neighborhood children.  My walk with the Lord  and more understanding would grow through the years.  I would always share my beliefs to every friend.  I have never doubted my decision, nor do I remember life without my relationship with Christ.  Jesus would remain my strength through different hills and valleys of life.

So, as I continue with this journey, I will truly be sharing His-story, because He is the author of my life.

Life with Cousins Begins

This journey link with Mommy's Piggy Tales has already been sweet.  I have pulled out pictures, stirred my memory and laughed with my children.  Looking back reminds me of how our perspective on life can change who we are and who we will become.  Recounting my earlier days of mishaps had always been seen as funny and never told in the tone of "you were a hand-full."  This has reminded me to keep the joy in re-telling my own children their stories...yes, my heart may have stopped when my daughter rode her bike down the indoor stairs, but the message behind the story has always been what an "overcomer and independent" girl she is.

Reading others stories this past week, I saw such healthy perspectives.  I pray as I walk through the rest of this journey, I will continue to see my past in the light of the beauty it was, because it is my story, given to me by God, the author of my life.

I don't remember stories from my pre-school years, nor can I get them out of my mom, but then again, we are both pushing upward in our years.  I do remember that it was the years of cousins.  I was blessed to have five cousins and my sister, all of us stair stepped in age.  Our mothers must have enjoyed gathering together to discuss their children and the joy of parenting.  Special bonds were built at an early age, along with precious memories of being with each other.

I would visit my grandmother at her farm near Ft Hood on many summer weekends.  My cousins would meet us  from their home in Houston.  My grandfather had this old bouncing swing on the front porch.  We would spend hours bouncing on the squeeky springs, while pushing it back and forth to produce great height.  The swing was an old seat from a truck.  We would hold onto the middle of the bottom of the seat, swinging the seat out over the edge of the porch. Our bodies would glide underneath...of course, you also learned when you let go to move out of the way before it plowed you over.
My grandfather trained horses and we all started riding at an early age.  The thrill of coming from the city to the farm will always be etched in my memory.

Another favorite at my grandfather's farm was the swing he hung from a beautiful sprawling oak.  Another recycled item, a metal seat from a tractor, spun from the branches by  two large chains.

I would enjoy this swing for years.  While swinging through the hot summer breeze, I would belt out my own melodies.  The breeze would flow through my hair as my imagination would take me to places I had never seen.  This swing would leave me a lifetime reminder of it's milestone as one of  my "happy places" with a chip on my front tooth.  My sister, in good sibling rivalry, would race me to the swing to see who would get it first.  I must have been ahead, because my sister pushed me into the edge of the metal tractor seat... it and my front tooth collided.  I can still rub my tongue across the chip that occurred so many years ago. Yes, I do need to get it filled... in so doing I may look better, but I will have removed part of my history.

The other joy was my cousins on my mother's side.  Mom had a younger, single brother who was at our mercy.  We would be sent into his room to wake him. (I can so understand that now that I have older sons.)  We would all attack him at once.  There were five of us on him, all girls, giggling and tickling him.  He was always such a source of laughter in my life.  He later would marry a woman by the name of Jeannette....there would be two of us in the family.  The Lord must have needed his laughter in heaven because he was taken home at an early age.  Like my Aunt Bet, both were single while I was little and they marked my life with precious memories before they left this earth.

At home was my sister and me.  The family story of this time of my life was the fact that I was blessed with a full head of hair when I was born, unlike my sister.  She would be bald for years.  My mother would make every effort possible to keep people from thinking she was a boy.  I guess I felt I should take after my grandmother, the beautician.  When my sister's hair had grown out enough for my mother to put it in a tiny little curl on the top of her head....well, if you are holding your breath, you have guessed.  I took a pair of those scissors that were plentiful around my sewing mother's house, and I proceeded to cut that curl right off her head!  Yes, my mother was horrified.  My sister and I have laughed through the years that I must have thought it looked silly.... who knows what I thought, but it has been a family tale ever since.

One of the few times we had snow in Austin, Texas....I remember making snow ice cream. 

As I read through my baby book, I saw that I had pink cakes for most of my early birthdays.  I was a true girl. This picture is me at age 4 - if the hair was cut differently and you put boys' clothes on me, you would see my four-year-old son now... oh my! The book says I loved to sing and dance at an early age.  Lessons and the love of the arts would follow me throughout my life.

I was also in a neighborhood with alot of girls...so between girl cousins and neighbors, I was raised in a girl- dominated world.  Our precious neighbors would become long time friends.  There was a family on one side with six kids and on the other side was five.  Between our three little houses, there would be 15 children!

Wow! too wordy I know...but this is my story!  To reflect back at His goodness is just amazing.

My Life Story - Birth

John F. Kennedy was inaugurated as the U.S. president, Mickey Mantel signed a $75K major league baseball contract, the 23rd Amendment was added to the United States Constitution, Bob Dylan made his singing debut in New York City, the Bay of Pigs Invasion occurred, the American civil rights movement was in full swing, Six Flags over Texas opened, the Berlin Wall construction began and I, Janette Cunningham, was born into the world.

I am joining with Janna at Mommy's Piggy Tales to document the history of my life from birth to age 18. As I have gathered my pictures and stories I can truly see it is "His-story".

The year was 1961.

So here it goes.....and yes, my pictures will start out in black and white, because that was the medium for most pictures back in the 60's.

I am a first-born child.  My mother is Loetta Jane Ayers Cunningham and my father is Kenneth Jay Cunningham.  I was born on January 8, 1961, in Austin, Texas.  My full name is Janette Cunningham.
My parents did not give me a middle name.  My father claimed that they did not give me a middle name so I would use my maiden name as my middle name when I married.


Janette is pronounced Jeanette.  My mother's name is Jane, so my name is Little Jane!  Jane and Janette also mean "Grace".

My claim to fame is the fact I was born on Elvis Presley's Birthday!  This was the year of his movie, "Blue Hawaii" and hit song, "I Can't Help Falling in Love with You".  Elvis had moved into what was called his irrelevant years, as soul music was making it's hit in popularity.

I was born right before my father graduated with his Civil Engineering Degree from The University of Texas.  So, I was raised a native Texan, as well as a Longhorn.

I am the first grandchild on my mother's side and the second on my father's side.

I was the fourth generation on both sides of the family, with three great-grandmothers still living.  I scared everyone by getting into my great-grandmother Powell's medicine bag and getting out her heart medicine.  So, along with eating half of a roach at my grandmother's house, I kept them all running.  My great-grandmothers, as well as my grandmothers, all lived into their 90's.  Strong countenance and long life is an inheritance I received from these wonderful women.

My life and my future husband's life would start crossing even before my birth. My parents lived within two blocks of my future husband's family before moving to the home where I was born. My mother worked in the same office with my future brother-in-law, while pregnant with me. 

During my early childhood, two of my aunts lived with us, creating a deep bond to both of these special ladies.  My Aunt Bet would take me for the weekend to my grandparent's farm.  One trip left me with a life-long souvenir when I hit the front dashboard of the car with the corner of my eye.  This became a special signature between my aunt and I through the remaining years of her life.  Throughout her life, she would be a constant encourager and mentor to me on marriage and parenthood. The Lord took her home to be with Him on the birthday of one of my six children.          

I wasn't an only child for long.  My sister was born 14 months later.  During my mother's busy days with two children under two, I established a special friendship with an older woman who lived across the street, whom we affectionately called "Nanny Bell".  I would wander over to her house by myself, so my handyman father had to construct a picket fence from throw away lumber to protect my wandering feet. I would return through the years to visit her after our move.

                                                                                                         

I would challenge my Dad's construction ability again by falling off the bed, (while mom was having my sister), and knocking out my front tooth.  My Dad then built me a small bed close to the floor for my safety.

During my early years, I spent a lot of time with my grandmother and many of my future traits would reveal themselves at my grandmother's house.  The tip-toes would predict what I would do with my feet in later years.  God's precious hand can be traced from the beginning of my conception to my present day life....what an awesome gift this life is!

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