When Paula was here this weekend, she brought me the second Jeanette Walls memoir, Half Broke Horses. We'd both read her first one, Glass Castles, and had sort of a love-hate relationship with it. I told Paula it was kinda like a train wreck -- you don't want to look, but somehow you just can't stop yourself. Needless to say, I couldn't wait to get started on this new story about Walls' spunky grandmother Lilly (think Maddie in True Grit), hoping it would give me some clue as to how Rosemary (Jeanette's mother and Lilly's daughter) ended up being one of the poorest excuses for a mother in the history of mankind.
As we sat discussing the books with Alexis, who had also read the first one, Paula suddenly said "Becky, I still say you need to get off your duff and start writing a book about your experiences traveling the world as an oil field wife. People would love reading about your adventures as a newlywed in a strange land, and think what a wonderful gift it would be for your kids and grandkids!" Lex chimed in with "Yeah Mom, get off your duff!"
As you've probably guessed, we've had this conversation before. Many times, in fact. I gave them my usual litany of excuses: I didn't keep a journal back then; my family didn't save any of my letters, and MIL Theda only saved a few; the pictures have all faded and fallen apart; it was just too long ago... I pushed the idea right outta my head again, buried my nose in Half Broke Horses instead, and stayed up until 2:00am reading, that first night after everyone left.
This morning, as I watched the sun come up, I was mulling over the characters in that book, and thinking about how I would describe it to you guys, when suddenly a little voice from nowhere started whispering in my ear. Know what she was saying? She whispered "What I remember most about those first few months of marriage, and our journey to Indonesia, is nausea -- an unbelievable amount of nausea -- some shrubs adorned with pretty purple vomit, and a huge sign, hanging outside John's prefab metal office building, that read "Welcome Home Becky and Fuzz Nuts!"...
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4 comments:
Your 'Higher Self Muse' has no loss of memory and that last sentence is a wonderful hook! What a fantastic project for 2011 (along with maintaining your ongoing ones....) Go Becky Go---the 21st century needs more first-person accounts from women. Take up the gauntlet that our grandmothers, aunts, and moms ignored.
Be advised---Paula, Alexis and I will hold you to reporting progress throughout the year! ;-)
Thank you for sharing those pics.
A comment from Paula, sent via email: becky, john was pretty cute in that picture!!!!!
I think so too! That was the year before we got married, when he was already overseas but I was still in school. I had sent him that cowboy hat and Mexican wedding shirt made of muslin, with all the tiny tucks across the front, for Christmas, and he was modeling them for me. I loved those long, droopy mustaches and the fu-man-chus that were popular then. In fact, I still get hot whenever I see one - makes me think of John and the 60's and all the musicians I had crushes on as a teen!
EWWWWWW! Can I unread that last commnet?
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