While shopping alone in San Francisco, I encountered some colorful Girl Scouts rapping on the sidewalk. Their mom took my photo as they showed me some moves. Turned out the beautiful Scout leader was the niece of retired Judge Charles Owens from my hometown so it was a regular reunion.
The girls and I drew quite a crowd and sold cartons of cookies. Two other women joined us. My twenty-something son would really have enjoyed seeing this scene, but my poor husband would have crawled in a waste can and missed all the funky fun. Now I could add "Rapping" to my old Scout sash where "Cooking" should have been.
The week after receiving my drama badge for starring as the Witch in SNOW WHITE, I quit the Scouts. How could I humble myself to a kitchen after my name appeared in all caps on the bright play poster I had put in the window at the corner IGA? At age eleven, I refused to boil a dumb egg to put in a boring lettuce salad. Some things never change.
I thought I left town to forget it all not to remember.
To write.
To remember to write.
It's not about the shopping.
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