Although I also worked in the Brogan orchard, thinning peaches with Cheryl, thankfully I never was "exposed" to a view of Frank Brogan's private parts. It's possible Cheryl protected me from that experience. She did tell me later about what happened, all those years ago. In those times, somehow we didn't feel like we should tell anyone about an experience like that -- I don't know why. I certainly never told my parents about the geometry teacher who liked to put his hand up my skirt when I went in after class for help. I often wonder if my dear friend Susan Brogan was ever molested by her father. As close as we were, I never caught any hints that this had happened.
As for Grandpa, I mostly remember that he was the first person I knew who chewed tobacco. He would spit into a small coffee can swirling with dark liquid. I thought this was disgusting!!
I will forevermore think of roasted potatoes as a euphemism for an old man’s hanging junk, although they do not provide all the visual cues as kiwifruit.
Peach fuzz and poison oak in Wenatchee reminded me of cuts and stings from running through the corn field, and poison ivy lurking in the wild strawberries in Sebewa. And so much more riding the currents of your flowing river of memories.
Although I also worked in the Brogan orchard, thinning peaches with Cheryl, thankfully I never was "exposed" to a view of Frank Brogan's private parts. It's possible Cheryl protected me from that experience. She did tell me later about what happened, all those years ago. In those times, somehow we didn't feel like we should tell anyone about an experience like that -- I don't know why. I certainly never told my parents about the geometry teacher who liked to put his hand up my skirt when I went in after class for help. I often wonder if my dear friend Susan Brogan was ever molested by her father. As close as we were, I never caught any hints that this had happened.
As for Grandpa, I mostly remember that he was the first person I knew who chewed tobacco. He would spit into a small coffee can swirling with dark liquid. I thought this was disgusting!!
I will forevermore think of roasted potatoes as a euphemism for an old man’s hanging junk, although they do not provide all the visual cues as kiwifruit.
Peach fuzz and poison oak in Wenatchee reminded me of cuts and stings from running through the corn field, and poison ivy lurking in the wild strawberries in Sebewa. And so much more riding the currents of your flowing river of memories.