To entertain my older siblings, I put on an old hat, sunglasses, and wrapped myself in a shawl. Clutching a large, empty purse, I knocked and entered the bedroom my sisters, Mary and Betty, shared. In a high-pitched, whiny voice I announced, “My name is Mrs. Humperditzel, and I’m here to drink a cup of tea with you.” My sisters screamed with laughter and began to ask my alter-ego questions. Mrs. Humperditzel answered in a snooty voice, “Yes, of course I live nearby; in the haymow. I’ll have my tea with lots of sugar!“
I grew up with several siblings who were much older me. Life had handed me an excellent invitation to be an entertainer, and I took advantage of the opportunity with gusto. My repertoire included several eccentric individuals. Mrs. Humperditzel was an old woman who liked to dress up and make Sunday afternoon visits. Erma Peabody on the other hand was an outgoing woman who did unexpected, outlandish things. My favorite persona was Rosie Spearmint. She was a young girl who lived in the orchard in an apple tree. Her solemn father liked to twirl a button on a string, and his full name was Spearmint Spearmint.
One drought-marred summer afternoon, I took on the persona of a famous mud pie chef. It was so oppressively hot that July day, I didn’t even bother to give him a name. After gathering the ingredients needed to make a mud pie, I gratefully sank down on the grassy lawn in the shade of a backyard tree next to one of Mom’s meticulously tended flower beds. High overhead, the hot July sun glared down on the farm. The dappled shade provided by the young tree gave me scant relief from the scorching summer heat, but I knew that if I stopped moving around and stayed in the shade, I would eventually feel cooler.
I slowly organized my equipment and ingredients on the grass next to where I was sitting. Mom’s old kettle, usually used to carry scraps to the chickens or barn cats, was my mixing bowl. Instead of using a stick to stir, I lifted an old spoon from the kitchen. Mom had used it for so many years that one side of spoon’s bowl was rubbed flat.
Life Lines 