Friday, April 24, 2009

Indiana Brexton. . . .


This is a picture George tooled and painted in leather of Brexton. He took it from a picture of him and changed the jacket and shoes to make him into a little Indiana Brexton.

We are having trouble posting pictures on my blog. When Data Doctors put my new computer together some months back, he thinks they did not program Windows Messenger into it. George posted this onto my blog from his computer as a test to see if his theory is correct.

I think the picture turned out so cute that I decided to turn this test into a post and make it part of my blog. We love our four great grandchildren, Cote, Brexton, Nixin, and Ethan so much and derive so much pleasure from sharing the special events in their lives; Brexton's T-Ball, quiet sweetness, and the hilarious things he says, Cote's wonderful Baptism, love of reading, and baseball talent, Ethan's first birthday, first steps, and his go for it happy personality, Princess Nixin's smiles. coos, and all of her adorable outfits and head bands. The little children are what gives our life purpose.

George also recently did a picture in leather of Ethan from a photo Jeni (his mom) sent us. We tried to post it but have had no luck so far.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

My Cinderella Ball Gown. . . .

It was a beautiful fall day in 1945. I was happy! I was excited! I felt good about myself as I
dashed like a leggy young gazelle out the front gates of Lincoln County High School. I started
home at a speed Coach Hutchison would love to see on the football field.

Life was wonderful! It was a magical time! I loved being in high school. I loved the new 'grown
up' feeling it gave me. I loved the hustle and bustle of a new routine. In fact, I loved everything
about it; the buses arriving from Caliente and Pioche, the clang of locker doors, rushing up and down stairs to class, Boys!, the sounds of them practising on the football field. Maybe some of them had noticed me. I had certainly noticed some of them.

Today was especially exciting. The school was abuzz with preparations for the Harvest Ball. It
was the first big dance of the year, and my first formal ball! I could hardly contain myself as I
ran home. Surely, nothing could stop me from going.

As I got closer to home, I slowed my pace and some of my enthusiasm seemed to melt away.
Wanda already had her ball gown. Her big sister had helped her pick it out at Leader's in
Pioche. They said it was beautiful. Ruby had hers. Her mother had taken her to Cedar City to get it. They said it was very expensive. But then, weren't all of Ruby's clothes very expensive. Even Shirley had hers. They had ordered it from the Montgomery Ward catalog. It looked
pretty in the catalog. Maybe I would go to her home today to see it.

I didn't have my gown, but I knew what I wanted my very first ball gown to look like. And most of all, I wanted it to be a real 'store bought' gown. I had some beautiful clothes, but I didn't
have many store bought ones. I knew why, and I understood. World War II had just ended and I had brothers and sisters who also needed clothes. And, Mother could sew. She was an artist with her Singer treadle sewing machine. "Why don't you look through the wishbooks, Ina, and if
you find something you like, we'll make it."

We received both the Montgomery Ward and Sears and Roebuck catalogs. Mother had always
preferred Sears but I thought Montgomery Wards was more exciting. It was larger and had
more colored pages. And so, I would look until I found a dress or a skirt and blouse I liked. We would go to Pioche or Caliente to find 'just the right material', and then Mother's magic would begin. Before I knew it, there would be my new clothes just like the picture. Only later in my life would I realize that the clothes were more beautiful than the pictures because of the love and
sacrifice of time, in the stitches that sewed them together.

I had slowed to a snail's pace as I stepped up onto the porch and called for Mother. When she answered, I saw that she and Dad were working outside. They were clearing out the last of the
garden. It was getting cold and they were trying to harvest what vegetables they could before it froze. It was hard work and they had a lot to do, but they stopped to say hello and ask me about my day and what was happening at school.

I tried to be enthusiastic as I talked about the ball. I felt guilty when I realized they really were interested. As I was not yet old enough to date, my handsome big brother was going to be my
escort for the ball. I thought Leo was the greatest and the most handsome. It was a loving
and unselfish thing for him to do. After all, he was an Air Force pilot and there were many girls he could have taken who would have been in seventh heaven to go to the ball with a
dashing Air Force pilot who had served his country so bravely during the war. I was happy
and had convinced myself that it didn't matter that Wanda and Shirley had been allowed to accept dates at age fourteen. My day would come and it would be right.

I mentioned to Mother that we needed to be thinking about my gown as most of my friends
already had theirs. Then she said what I had been expecting and dreading, "Why don't you look through the wishbooks, Ina? Find a formal that you like and we'll make it this week." I just couldn't do it! This time I couldn't get excited about looking at a picture and trying to find the material to turn it into reality. For my first formal ball gown, I wanted the excitement of going
to one of the big department stores to purchase it.

Mother asked me several times in the next few days if I had found a gown I liked and when I told her no, she asked me if I knew what I wanted it to look like. "I know I want a gown that glitters and shines, with a full skirt that stands way out", I said. She didn't say anything else.

I walked into the house several days before the Ball. It was quiet, but I could hear Mother moving around in the back bedroom. Then I heard a rustling of paper, and she called, "Ina, come in here." As I walked through the door, I saw a large box on the bed. It stated that it was from 'Auerbachs'. I was intrigued and excited! I could see layers and layers of white tissue paper. "I had some formals sent to us on approval. Why don't you look at them and see if there is something you like. We have to return the others right away", Mother said.

I couldn't believe it! It was my dream come true. My ball gown was going to be a real 'store bought' formal. Not from Pioche or Cedar City. Not from a catalog, but from Auerbachs in Salt Lake City. Reverently unfolding the layers of tissue paper, I took out a beautiful pink gown. It had a scoop neck and a tiny wisp of a sleeve. Mother said the material was tulle. The skirt was tulle over a darker pink organza. It was magnificent! I tried it on and then laid it on the bed. I then lifted a yellow gown from the tissue paper. "Pretty, but plain", I thought. I didn't notice that the skirt was two layers of sheer silk chiffon over a deeper, rich yellow satin. I just saw that it wasn't stiff and didn't stand way out. That it brushed the floor with a light and fluffy elegance made no impression on me. I didn't notice that the bodice with it's demure heart shaped neckline was softly shirred into tiny parallel rows of gathers along the shoulders where they were caught in the sleeves. "Plain sleeve", I thought, "they are neither long nor short." Nor did I notice that the bodice from the shoulder to where the slightly dropped waist gently curved into a soft point in front, was smocked into an intricate honeycomb of soft, light and airy puffs, and that it fit me to perfection in all of the right places. "Nice, but it doesn't glitter or shine", I thought.

Gently, I lifted the last dress from the tissue paper that was holding it so lovingly, and gazed at it in awe. It was my formal! My Cinderella Ball Gown! Blue taffeta that hung crisply and stood way out. Puffy sleeves, slightly off the shoulders. And, it glittered! Rhinestones, dozens of them, glittering and shining everywhere. I had made my choice. I tried it on. Mother said I looked beautiful. "We'll fold the others and you can take them to the Post Office before it closes", she said.

I was in heaven as we started to fold the dresses. Then I saw the price tag on the pink tulle. I was shocked! It was expensive. If it cost that much, how much was the blue taffeta with it's full skirt and rhinestones? Reluctantly, I looked at the price tag on My Cinderella Gown and my dream was shattered. Mother and Dad couldn't afford that dress. I also knew that they would buy it for me anyway, and that they would be happy for me. There were times in my life when I had been selfish, but for reasons I did not understand, this time I could not put them in that position. As I looked at the price tag on the yellow dress, I realized that even though it was still expensive, without all of the adornments, it was priced less than the other two. I was sure Mother saw me look at the price tags, but she didn't say anything when I told her that I had changed my mind. I told her I was sure the yellow dress was a more flattering color for me (it was) and fit me better than the other two (it did). She asked me if I was sure, and when I said I was, she hung it on the closet door. I folded up the pink formal and my blue Cinderella Ball Gown and went to the Post Office.

As I went to bed that night, I kissed Mother and Dad. I was disappointed and yet I felt good. However, I think Mother saw a daughter whose dream had just been shattered, but being wise,
realized I had made a decision that would strengthen me and help me to mature.

I woke in the early morning before it was light. Through sleepy eyes, I saw a light in the little kitchen and heard Mother working quietly as she did her early morning chores. I wondered why she was up so early. Even for her, this was early. It couldn't be 5:00 yet. I rolled over and pulled the covers over my head, trying not to feel guilty. Usually, I would have been able to go back to sleep without feeling a twinge of guilt. Not this time. For some reason, I groaned and turned toward the kitchen. Maybe Mother needed help. Then I saw my ball gown. It had been carefully pressed and was hanging on the closet door. "It really is nice", I thought, "but wait, what is that?" In the softly muted light, I saw them, dozens of tiny luminous seed pearls shining with a burnished lustrous glow from where they had been gently and perfectly placed among the honeycomb of soft puffs. How many hours during the long cold night had a mother spent lovingly stitching her daughter's dream back together?

I left my warm bed and brushed my hand over the pearls as I walked into the kitchen. Did I say anything? Did Mother? I don't remember, but I will always remember the smile and the twinkle in her eyes as she looked at me.

The gymnasium looked fantastic! It had been transformed into a wondrous magic kingdom fit for a princess. Wanda was beautiful and I felt a tiny stab of envy when I saw her with her date, but she was my friend. She was right, her dress was beautiful and it was perfect for her. I could see that Ruby's dress was very expensive. It was very lovely and so was she. Shirley looked pretty. "Her dress is right for her", I thought as she flashed her special smile at me.

And, my Cinderella Ball Gown? It was breathtaking and I felt beautiful! Leo told me that, indeed, I did look beautiful and the boys were sure to notice. As we entered, they handed Leo our dance cards. How excited I was as several boys, including the Prince Charming who was the subject of all of my dreams, came to choose a dance and put their name on my dance card.

Leo looked so handsome in his uniform. Tonight we would forget the war and the combat missions flown in Italy. He was safe! He was home! As he swept me onto the floor for the first dance, I could feel the smooth rich touch of satin against my legs and the soft whisper of chiffon billowing gently and gracefully as we circled the room to a beautiful waltz. Glancing down, I saw the soft burnished glow of pearls. They seemed to glow brighter as they smiled lovingly up at me, and I basked warm and secure in that love.

Ina Mae Wadsworth