This statue is in Santa Fe. My husband took this picture, as he enjoys photography. After previewing some vacation pics, I knew the sculpture captured the spirit of the young "flygirl" within me.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Grandmother's Shall Travel
My maternal and paternal grandmother's decided to take me home with them, after traveling from their small town home in the NE corner of Colorado. They had broken away from their chores and husbands for a road trip to see their children and grandchildren in Amarillo,Tx. I think they were making sure my folks were baring up o.k. At this point in my young life, my father was flying missions on B-52's. He would be on "Alert" call. This meant he was living in an underground bunker on the air base, while mom tended to three children in town at home. My paternal grandmother had a new Oldsmobile, so we would be traveling in style. My maternal grandmother would be the co-pilot and navigator! The matriarchs of our family drove from Colorado to Amarillo, Tx., without incident. This trip would make me feel the freedom of flight, while traveling in style in the backseat of this wonder on wheels. Yes, Flygirl enjoyed the trip in the backseat of the shiny new Oldsmobile.
No air conditioning, but no worries, my grandmothers washed my hair and put it up in pinwheels all over my head. I got in the backseat of the steel on wheels, windows down, my arm out the back window catching air and drying my hair. I was on my first solo flight!! Little did I know this would be one of my many adventures, with the fun loving small town matriarchs of my family.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
That's me
Flygirl is the alias I gave myself, when I was around 10 years old. I would self- talk to the shy little girl that resided inside. My real passion in life was to be able to fly in any airplane, as much as possible. My father was an officer in the Air Force and navigated B 52's, while I was growing up in the 50's-60's. The Cuban crisis was in full swing. My days were filled, with planes flying overhead at home and school. At home my father would lay out navigational maps on the kitchen table, laboring over flight patterns, with slide rules and pencils in hand. At school I would dutifully block out sounds of jets flying overhead, while I stuck to my lessons at hand. Occasionally, the daily school routine would be interrupted by alarms, with drills for nuclear attacks. I would quickly get under my desk then squat down, tuck my chin and place my hands on top of my head by interlocking my fingers. My father had his pilot's license and would take us up on weekend outings in prop airplanes. Strangely, my mother did not enjoy prop planes, although she was fine with the Air Force and airline flights we took. So it was a treat for my oldest brother and I to have dad to ourselves on these weekend adventures. I do mean adventure to----as he liked to turn off the engine and hang glide at times. Woo!!! Flygirl emerged in my mind the first day he turned off that engine and we glided across the expansive Texas plains. I could see for miles and miles, I was close to heaven, I was thrilled and awestruck. Yep, I think I like being a flygirl!!!
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